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sinswithpleasure · 5 months

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The Devils Send Their Regards — Giselle

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Warning: Coarse Language, specifically in the liberal use of it while disrespecting women. A lot of the use of "slut".

Finally finished because @midnightdancingsol complained there weren’t enough Giselle fics, which I agree.

A very early Christmas fic <3

—---------—

"Tis the season to be slutty, fa la la la la~"

Uchinaga Aeri admires the throng of drunken revelers dancing beneath her feet from her balcony. She drinks from her wine glass, the alcohol sending warmth down her throat as she swallows. Loud techno beats blast from the overhead speakers, the multi-colored lasers waving in their arcs across the walls. The dance floor is as full as always, just as it is every night.

"Miss Uchinaga."

A waiter appears behind her with a bottle in hand. Aeri raises her glass, and he refills it with more red wine.

"Mm. Thank you, dear."

"My pleasure, Miss Uchinaga."

Even on Christmas, the club is just as busy as it would be on other days. Aeri giggles to herself—it just meant more prime specimens to scout out for. She takes a glance at the giant neon sign bathing her club in a deep red.

La Fontaine De Jouvence

Aeri downs the glass of wine and leaves it on the parapet of the balcony. She takes in a deep breath—multiple scents register in her senses. Nothing escapes her notice, not when she owns the entire building. She has eyes on every nook and cranny of her club.

'Oh, the folly of youth. Drugs, alcohol…'

Eyes flash bright green.

'Sex.'

She'll definitely have her share of the fountain tonight.

—---------

Christmas Day means nothing to the wild youths of the party scene—it is nothing but another excuse to live hard, party harder. After all, holidays should be celebrated to its fullest extent, right?

You step into tonight's nightclub of choice—'La Fontaine De Jouvence'. You scoff at the idea of the pretentious name. The Fountain of Youth? It's just a nightclub, nothing fancy about it. Who, in their right mind, would name a club like that?

A shake of your head, and you dismiss the thoughts. You're not here to ponder the intricate thought processes of a nightclub owner anyway; you're here to drink, maybe do some drugs, show your moves on the floor, and pick up a bitch whose pussy you're going to fill with your cum for tonight. It is with that thought that you step down to the bar for your first drink of the night.

Reach the bottom of the stairs. Take two steps to your left to move past the couple making out. Take another two to the right to slide between two partygoers with snow still on their nostrils, dancing. You're right at home in this chaos. Christmas parties at the clubs are always pure fun due to the relaxed societal restrictions—the women are allowed to dress as slutty as they want to, and you're definitely leering at any of the Santa girls dancing around you. You drool at the sight of one of them drunkenly twerking to the loud bass emanating from the speakers, your cock hardening as her skirt rises up to reveal bare skin, her pussy out for all to view. Another girl next to her grinds against a man, and you're wishing you'll be as lucky as he is when she grabs his hand and slides it under her top. You reluctantly tear your eyes away from the free porn and hop onto one of the seats at the bar.

"Gin and tonic, please."

You eye the bartender up and down when she turns to prepare your drink. Light brown locks cascade down her back. She's dressed in a Santa outfit, just like most of the other girls here are wearing, and you stare at the little strip of skin between her top and skirt. Your eyes roam next to her thighs—the skirt she has on ends mid-thigh, and you smirk at the thought of this girl, bent over the counter as you fuck her with that skirt on.

When she turns around to you, you're met with one of the prettiest faces you've seen. Bright doe eyes above a cute button nose, with a pair of red luscious lips, you're instantly enamored with whoever this bartender is. The cherry on top is the red bunny ear headband she wears, topping the look off with a seductive finish.

"Here's ya gin and tonic, handsome!"

The wink she sends you has you almost drooling.

"Thank you, beautiful."

The bartender giggles, and she bats her eyelashes, a coquettish grin across her angelic features.

"You're welcome!"

When she busies herself with other orders from other patrons, you sip your first drink of the night slowly as you check her out. Your eyes follow her every step of her way—you whistle softly at the sway of her hips in that sinfully short skirt, your eyes devour the peek of cleavage whenever she bends over to pick up something from under the counter, and her long legs have your cock twitching as you imagine them wrapped around your waist during sex. Sure, she has knee-high boots on, but you're damned sure she's definitely fucking hot from top to toe. You grin at the bartender when she turns back to you, and she returns a seductive smile, her eyes somehow bright in the dim venue.

What escapes your notice were her eyes flashing orange when she looked back.

—--------

The more time you spend sitting at the bar, the more you feel your lust growing. All of it is directed at the bartender whose name you still don't know, and you're feeling exceptionally warm. The cool air of the strong air conditioning helps a little, but you're definitely feeling hot and bothered.

"Is there somethin' wrong, dear?"

The bartender appears in front of you when you're wiping your sweat. The shock has you jumping, and the girl giggles.

"Oh, sorry~. Ya looked a lil' sick, are you okay?"

You're drooling way too much at the way she bends over the counter, her deep cleavage right in your field of vision.

"Uh…"

"Mm, you're quite warm…"

She raises her arm, the back of her fingers resting against your skin. You're inhaling copious amounts of her sweet scent—the fresh smell of tangerines is all you can register…

God, you want to lick her armpits so badly.

"I'm gonna getcha some water…

"Are ya sure ya okay?"

"S-Sure I am, beautiful."

There's a tinge of disbelief in her grin, but she doesn't bother to call you out. Instead she passes you a cup of iced water, and bends over in front of you again, her chin resting on her palm, a smirk over her face.

Her eyes flash orange—

No, that must be a trick of the light.

"You've been staring a lot, handsome…

"Do ya like what’cha see?"

The scent of tangerines grows stronger—

You're drowning in it—

"How about you come meet me at the back after my sh—"

"Ning."

Both you and the bartender look to the source of the interruption—

Your jaw drops.

Straight dark brown… or red—no, that's the light—hair flowing down to mid-back, framing a round face with wonderfully done makeup. You're enthralled by the eyeliner and lashes, the glossy lips, but her eyes—her gaze is mesmerizing…

"Unnie!"

The call from your left brings you back to reality, the sounds of the loud techno music suddenly blasting around you once more. You stare at the two beautiful women as they look at each other—the bartender's—Ning's—grin never faltering, and the other nameless woman maintaining her impassive gaze. You take the chance to check the other hottie out.

A dark choker around her neck, adorned with gems of some sort. A short… dress-corset mix, maybe, is her clothing choice for the night, which leaves her meaty thighs exposed for your viewing pleasure. You gaze at the knee-high stockings she has on, the two bows at the top where it ends giving it a little seductive vibe. Black boots complete the look, and you want this fucking slut on your cock already.

"... but—Un~nie!"

You return from your lustful adventure to Ning's whining. Ning’s pouting and stomping the ground like a petulant child, a far cry from the seductress earlier. She folds her arms and sulks.

"No, Ning."

"Fiiiine…" Ning somehow sulks even more when she gets her answer from the lady in front of you, and she gives you a little flirty wave and wink as she leaves to go serve another customer. You're starstruck by how hot she is again, and you resolve to come back and finish the job in the future, after you're done with the lady in front of you.

"Hi, dear."

This woman's voice just drips sex—

"Are you having a wonderful night?"

She sinks into the empty seat next to you, and you sip on the water given earlier.

"Well, I was… until Ning left—"

"Don't worry about her, dear…"

She reaches out a hand to shake.

"I'm Uchinaga Aeri, but you can call me Giselle."

Oh, a Japanese slut?

The smirk she has when you shake her hand unsettles you—

Did her eyes just glow green—?

You're left with no time to ponder the thought when she begins to speak.

"And your name…?"

—--------

You're drowning in pussy, you think, as you join the youths on the dance floor. Giselle leads you in, your hand in hers, and the both of you start moving to the beats. However, you're more preoccupied with checking out the women around you. Being in the middle of all of these sluts has your cock straining against your pants, and you just want to tear the Santa dresses off them—

"Quit staring at them and just focus on me, dear."

Giselle raises a hand to push your head back to her. She's close—very close. Her body brushes against you as she dances, and you swear it's on purpose—her ass is definitely pressed against you, and she grinds herself against your bulge. With how close she is, all you're smelling is her. You don't know if it's perfume, and neither do you know if it's her natural scent. Whatever it is, Giselle smells fucking amazing, and you have to resist the urge to bury your nose into her neck and take a deep whiff. As you dance with her, your hands slide down to her hips, and Giselle turns and grins at you. She presses even closer, and soon enough, you're grinding against her, right there on the dance floor. It's warm, it's crowded, and it's a little uncomfortable, but you don't care—you're grinding against one of the hottest women you've seen, and she's reciprocating, even moaning softly as your hard cock glides between her fucking thick asscheeks.

"Fuck, you're so damn hot, Giselle."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you're making me wanna fuck you right here, baby."

Giselle bites her lip and grins, and your cock twitches at such a sexy sight.

"Do it."

Your jaw drops.

"What?"

"Do it. Fuck me right here."

"But the people—"

"I don't care, and neither should you."

Giselle reaches a hand around to your bulge, and she runs her hand along your clothed length. Her fingers grip onto the zipper, and you feel the vibrations of the track being undone, then her hand sliding under your pants to rub your shaft over your underwear.

"Wai—"

"Shh…"

Giselle turns around, and without warning, her lips are on yours. You waste no time in making it an openmouthed kiss, and when Giselle's tongue glides against yours, lust envelops you. The kiss feels so amazing—Giselle kisses amazingly well, and you can't help but moan into the kiss when she grabs your bulge. Fingers slide beneath your pants again, but this time, Giselle pulls at your underwear, and soon enough, she has your cock out of the zipper.

"You're so big, dear, wow… You'll stretch my pussy good, won't you?"

Her lips reconnect with yours, and you groan again when she begins to jerk you off. You don't care that it's on the dance floor. You don't care that people might notice—not that they do, magically. In fact, you don't even care about any ramifications. Hell, you don't even know or care about how you can hear Giselle under all that loud music without her even raising her voice at all. All you care about is that you're about to have sex with one of the sexiest sluts you've ever met.

"Oh wow, you're really wet, aren't you?"

Giselle raises her hand. Her fingers glisten with your pre-cum, and she licks it off while staring at you.

"Mm, healthy…

"Come on, fuck me."

You watch in sheer lust as Giselle turns around and bends over. She pulls at the hem of her dress, and your cock twitches at the sight of her dripping pussy exposed for your viewing pleasure.

"Surprise, dear. I didn't wear any underwear tonight."

Giselle grabs your shaft and leads you to her entrance. She rubs your cockhead against her slit, and she smirks when your cock presses against her hole, almost entering her.

"Put it in, baby. I wanna see how men like you fuck sluts like me."

Without any warning, you thrust into her with one hard stroke. You groan loudly in pleasure, as does Giselle. She arches her back when you push in, and you wrap your arms around her body to pull her close. Finally, you push your nose right against her nape and take in deep breathfuls of her scent.

An impossible heat takes over your body—you feel so warm, almost too warm, yet very comfortable right where you are. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you know you're still in the club, right on the dance floor, but somehow, it doesn't matter. No one has noticed you and Giselle, and no one's filming anything. Everyone is dancing and drinking as per normal, even when right next to them, you have Giselle in a standing doggy position, your cock hilted deep in her pussy, your connection to her exposed right for everyone to see. You don't know how or why no one's noticed—but it doesn't matter at all, not when your cock's deep in a slut's pussy. That's all you care about—no one's looking, and you can fuck her in peace. In fact, it's even better if no one's looking.

"Stop thinking and just fuck my slut pussy, baby."

And fuck her, you do.

You pull yourself out from her cunt, then shove it all back in with one stroke. You can't help but moan loudly once more, as does Giselle. Giselle's pussy feels like paradise—you've never fucked a cunt that somehow molds around your cock just right. Every time you thrust in, her walls magically feel heavenly—she's warm, tight, wet, divine. The world around you melts away and the pleasure of sex with Giselle becomes the only thing you care about. Gradually, you begin to pound her right where you stand, which draws the sexiest and most wanton, obscene moans you've ever heard a woman moan. It only fuels you to fuck her faster, harder—you can feel your abs burn, your thighs almost cramping up. None of it matters—the pleasure that Giselle's tight body brings you overpowers the discomfort.

"That's right, fuck me just like that! Fuck my slut pussy just like that! I love it, I love the way you fuck me! Keep fucking me, fuck me until you fill my slut pussy with cum! Empty your balls in me, pump me full of your cum! Feed me all of your cum!"

Giselle's words fuel the flames of your lust—what was already there is only empowered, and you take the chance to give her thick ass a hard slap, which draws even louder moans from her.

"Yes, yes, spank me, make it hurt! Punish me, punish me for being such a slut! Punish me for fucking you right here in front of everyone, show them all how you're taming me!"

With a loud roar, you spank Giselle over and over. However, the thought you taming her sits right in your mind and you only last another three hard thrusts—

"FUCK!"

"Yes, yes, yes, YES!"

On the third thrust, you force your entire length into Giselle, and you explode into her cunt. You've never had an orgasm so intense—your knees nearly buckle and send both you and her tumbling to the floor. While you fight to keep both of you standing, your cock fires off shot after shot after shot of thick, hot semen right into Giselle's cunt. You don't know how many jets of semen you deposit into her waiting pussy—all you know is that it is enough to overflow around your connection and drip to the ground where you stand. At the same time, Giselle moans and shudders, her hips bucking intensely, her body convulsing under your touch as her orgasm arrives right after yours. Her pussy milks your cock for every shot of your cum, and you can hear the loud hisses of release as she squirts all over the floor and on your pants. Gush after gush after gush of squirt sprays all over the dance floor, and her juices mix with your semen in a puddle below your connection.

You have no idea how long your orgasms take to pass, but when you finally pull your softening cock out of Giselle, you see that your cum runs down her thighs and stains her stockings. The girl in question turns around and crashes her lips to yours in a torrid kiss, then she asks you the question you've set out to hear for tonight.

"My place or yours?"

—------—

"Nngh, fuck, that's right, keep fucking me like that, yes!"

The taxi ride back to your place isn't free of sin either—Giselle's naked and bouncing on your cock. You're naked under her too—your clothes and hers mix in a pile to your right—and you thrust up into her over and over.

Once you'd gotten into the taxi with her, somehow the driver only focused on driving. Even as Giselle suddenly mounted you and started undressing, the driver didn't seem to notice. You were wondering why earlier, but once Giselle's pussy enveloped your cock again, none of that mattered any more.

"God, fuck, your slut pussy feels so good, oh fuck…"

"I'm gonna cum, baby!"

Giselle screams out loud when her sentence ends. She shudders and falls back on you, and your cock springs out of her pussy as she squirts hard against the front seat of the car. Gush after gush of her juices drench the leather—your fingers rubbing her clit extend and strengthen her orgasm, and the pleasure she draws from it. You don't even wait for her orgasm to subside before you shove your cock back in her and start thrusting again—nothing can and will tear you away from being balls deep in Giselle's perfect cunt.

"Oh God, yes, that's right, it's your turn, cum for me, cum inside me!"

"Argh!"

With a low growl, you rail Giselle with your hard cock. You can feel the exertion across your body—sweat drips from your forehead and chest, your heart pounds against your ribcage, and your muscles work overtime to keep up with the fucking you're giving Giselle. You have no idea where this energy comes from—you're fucking her harder than you have any girl and you feel like you're on top of the world, no exhaustion at all.

You don't even bother announcing your orgasm—you just let yourself burst deep into Giselle again. Her walls almost seem to massage your cock, as if to coax more and more of your load deep into her. Giselle shudders as spurt after spurt of your warm cum is fired deep into her womb with every thrust of your cock deep into her cunt.

"Oh God, yes, fill me more, fuck yes!"

Your orgasm might as well be never-ending, with how much cum erupts from your cock. Your thick semen overflows from Giselle's cunt, and with each burst of fresh cum, you feel your load drip out of her cunt and stain your skin, as well as the floor of the taxi.

When the taxi slows to a halt, Giselle pulls out her wallet and throws a few bills in the direction of the driver. She grabs the pile of clothes and steps out of the taxi naked. She pulls your hand to lead you out of the vehicle, and when the door closes, it drives off into the night. Neither of you care about the mess you've made—it's not your issue to bother about. The only thing that is important to you is to get into Giselle's home—you're going to have sex with that slut all night.

"Let's get in quick, baby. I miss that cock already."

—-------—

Giselle's had fuckings like the one she's getting right now from you. She's no stranger to sex, that much you know from how hard she fucks herself back on you. You have her bent over her couch, the bottle of lube she had lying around thrown onto the other side of it. The expensive leather bends under her knees, and you pump harsh thrust after harsh thrust of your cock deep into Giselle once more.

"Mgh, fuck, that's it, fuck my ass harder, fuck it like you fucked my pussy!"

You're buried balls deep in Giselle's asshole now. Her idea, really—she wanted you to use her body fully, and she's also the one who led you to the couch. Your cock twitched hard watching her spread her ass for you, and you'd wasted no time lubing your cock up and pushing it deep into her. Right now, you're well on your way to thoroughly using her asshole—you make good on her instructions and fuck her just as hard as you did earlier. Dimly, you wonder how you can keep going like this—you're not tired at all.

In fact, you feel like you're on top of the world.

The thoughts that keep you occupied are broken when you orgasm again, unexpectedly. Once again, jet after jet of semen is pumped deep into Giselle's ass, and you thrust recklessly into her to fuck your load deeper into her. When you slip out of her ass in one of your strong pulls backward, you stroke yourself as you give her backshots, leaving her skin glistening as you stain her body with your semen.

"Shower, baby?"

—------—

Even in the shower, you can't escape Giselle's clutches.

You have the Japanese girl pinned against the glass, one of her legs lifted up as you thrust with reckless abandon into her perfect pussy. The water doesn't even hit your body—you're wasting all of it right now, but you don't care at all. Trails of white cum stains the glass and Giselle's skin as it leaks out of her ass and cunt with every thrust you send into her body.

"God, yes, make me cum, yes, make me—!"

Giselle's broken moan is accompanied by the strong geyser of squirt that gushes against your skin. Her orgasming cunt spits your cock out, and you waste no time forcing yourself back in her and fucking her through her orgasm. Hot spray after hot spray of the Japanese girl's squirt drenches your skin every time you pull out, and her tight, warm walls mold so perfectly around your cock. You're not far from another orgasm, and Giselle's pussy feels like heaven as usual, with its sole purpose to milk you dry of all the semen you had. Two more hard thrusts, and you explode deep into the creamy mess that is Giselle's cunt. Your semen overflows and drips off your cock, every spurt you send into her pussy displacing more and more semen from all of your past sessions.

"God, that felt so good, Giselle."

"As it should, baby. I'm the best fuck a man will ever have."

—-------—

You're feeling a little dizzy from the hedonistic activities of the past few hours. The elevated heart rate probably does you no good, and you're feeling a little hungry after expending so much energy fucking the slut that clings to your arm still. You have no idea how she's still so insatiable.

"Come on, baby, you've only cum once in my ass. I want more of it!"

Neither you nor Giselle have bothered to get dressed—you knew you were definitely having more sex with her, but you just want a break for now. You’re definitely not getting that break though—Giselle somehow has unlimited stamina, and she’s hell-bent on unleashing all of it on you. You’re seated on a chair in her room, and she bounces on your lap, impaling herself over and over on your cock with her tight, lubed asshole. Your hands rest on her hips, and you thrust upwards into her slick hole, grunting with each time you hilt. The pleasure that Giselle’s ass gives you is comparable to that of her cunt—somehow, you swear it’s just as tight and feels almost similar, though you have no idea why or how. All you know is that Giselle’s the best fuck ever, and you’re more than happy to keep filling her body with cum.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

With a loud shrill cry, Giselle orgasms for the umpteenth time. A huge gush of juices spray from her pussy as she squirts all over the floor, semen and slick dripping from her thoroughly used hole. At the same time, you release yet another thick load deep into Giselle’s ass, fucking spurt after spurt of hot pearly white cum deep into her once more. You’ve lost count of how much cum you’ve pumped into her tonight, but you don’t want to stop at all. You want to fill this goddess with your cum over and over and over.

Before you can move to get up from the chair, Giselle’s already a step ahead of you. She has your slick cock, stained with cum and lube, in her hands, and you stare in burning lust as she deepthroats your shaft, uncaring that it was just in her ass earlier. Giselle stares right into your eyes, and you swear she’s reading your mind with the way her gaze screams “that’s right, i’m a filthy, filthy girl that’s addicted to your cock tonight”. You can’t resist grabbing her head, and next thing you know, you’ve risen to your feet, your hands gripping her head to steady it as your fuck her face. Drool drips from her lips, down your balls and down her chin, but you don’t care, not even if Giselle sounds like she’s choking. All you care about is emptying another load into her mouth and down her throat. Of course, it doesn’t take long before the familiar sensation comes, and you’re filling the Japanese girl’s mouth with another thick load, which she swallows almost greedily, as if she can’t get enough of it.

“Thank you my dear~,” Giselle’s sweet smile as she rises has you grinning back unconsciously. When she draws close, you don’t even care that she still has your cum on her lips—you’re kissing her back harshly, your tongue swirling around hers as she sits on your lap, a hand guiding your cock towards her pussy once more. When she sinks down on you, you can’t help but moan out loud, and that’s when she takes the chance to pull you in for another kiss.

“I’m going to fuck you dry, babe.”

—--------—

Make good on her promise she does.

You’re lost as to which round it is with Giselle.

Right now, you have her bent over your desk now, her hair gripped in your palm tightly as you yank her head back with it, your hips slamming relentlessly against the Japanese girl’s ass. However, you’ve had her in that position in many other places now—on the countertop, in bed, on the couch, in the bathroom, in bed again, and the list goes on and on and on…

Your heart pounds in your chest as sweat drips from your brow, down your body, all from exertion. You’ve gone without a break ever since the club, and you still feel fresh, as if it were the first round. At least, you’re still fucking Giselle as if it were the first round. The desk beneath the both of you crashes against the wall with every thrust.

“Fuck me harder, harder! Use me, fuck me, fuck my pussy like I’m a fleshlight! Shoot your cum deep into me again!”

Giselle’s demands are your instructions, and you follow them to a tee. You force yourself to go faster, harder, quicker, even more than before, and the pleasure you derive has you delirious. Giselle’s pussy is the best you’ve fucked, and you don’t want to stop—you want to keep fucking her until you die.

“That’s right, fuck me, fuck me until you’re dead! Fuck this pussy until you milk yourself dry! Feed me!”

It is with Giselle’s words that heralds your orgasm—this time, you feel bursts of cum explode out of your cock, and the excitement comes to a head when you feel the same bursts in your chest. You can’t breathe, no matter how hard you try, as sparks fly in your vision, the pleasure overwhelming you with every shot of cum that explodes deep into Giselle’s thoroughly used cunt.

The last thing you remember is seizing up, then falling backwards, then black.

—-------—

“Thanks for the meal, baby. You were such a great fuck.”

Aeri stares at her now former partner for the night, lying on the ground behind her. He still twitches as the last of his life force evaporates from him, and then he stops moving. Forever.

With a snap of her fingers, the corpse beneath her feet bursts into green flame. Flesh begins to char underneath the extreme heat of the soulfire, and in a matter of seconds, any evidence of the man’s physical existence is erased, as if he never came over to her home. With a wave of her hands, her usual sweatshirt and pants combination clothes her bare body, and she leaves for her in-house bar to pour herself another glass of wine.

Vrrrt.

Her phone vibrates.

[Jimin | 03:15am]

Meeting. Now.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #giselle smut #aespa giselle smut

1K notes · View notes

bella-goths-wife · 2 months

Note

So if Alastor made a deal with Vs pet before going missing for 7 years how would she be at the hotel?

What would have happened if alastor made a deal with Vs pet before leaving

Warnings: obsession, bad foreshadowing, violence?

In all honestly, if alastor had ran into you again before disappearing he would have made a deal with you

You intrigued him in a way that he hadn’t felt in years, the familiarity he felt towards you almost made him nostalgic

But let’s say he did offer you a deal on the day you met

It would be something similar to your deal with vox, your soul in exchange for food, water, shelter and protection

He’d give you a small cottage away from the city and close to the cannibal colonies, somewhere where you could live without the worry of being hurt or killed

Your fridge would always be stocked with food every week and you had all the things you could need in the cottage with you

Now you expected there to be a huge workload after you found out what a prominent demon alastor was, but all you had to really do was be his assistant and help him with his broadcasts

You were his assistant for a few weeks before he disappeared and suddenly you were alone again

You were still taken care of in the essential ways, your always had food and water in your little cottage and Rosie checked up on the cottage once a week to make sure you were still alive and safe

But you were lonely, so you started to help out Rosie in the cannibal colony every now and again

And you continued like that for seven years, until alastor finally returned

Rosie had let you know about his return and warned you that he would call on you soon and not to ask him to many questions

It was whiplash for you, one minute you were making some tea in the kitchen and the next you were standing in the hotel lobby with a look of shock

Alastor introduced you to everyone and informed you that you’d be staying at the hotel with him to help Charlie with her vision

You were mainly there to help alastor and be his entertainment, but you did help nifty with chores and even cooked meals for everyone

Charlie was ecstatic to have a younger soul with them and claimed that you’d be perfect for redemption

Her girlfriend, vaggie, on the other hand was extremely cautious around you since you were associated with alastor

Husk knew of you from whispers from some of the other souls alastor owned

At first he pitied you since he knew what it was like to be leashed by alastor, and then he saw how much alastor favoured you and treated you much nicer than he treated any of his other souls

Husk couldn’t help but feel bitter of the fact that he was in a much worse situation than you, but he eventually grew to like you since he understood you were practically a kid compared to him and he wouldn’t wish his fate on anyone

You and angel wouldn’t be as close as you were if you were the Vs pet, but you’d both still be friends

Alastor wouldn’t be fond of sharing you with the rest of the hotel since you were there to be his entertainment, but when he made comments about it and gave you an unnecessary workload he got a very harsh scolding from Rosie

I believe that alastor would become like a mentor to you, almost fatherly but not too much

It’s canon that alastor would be a terrible father but a great mentor so I could see him teaching you how to use your power to its full extent and he’d like combining your powers together

I like to imagine that when you and alastor combine your abilities then it would start off as a 1920s jazz music sound and would contain techno beats when you join in

Your relationship with alastor would be almost parallel to yours and vox if you were the Vs pet

It would be less cruel and you’d be much happier, but there would still be a hint of obsession in the relationship

Alastor would definitely be somewhat possessive of you in a certain way, the same way a male deer is protective of its children

He’d like getting to know you and finding out what the connection was between you to

The Vs would absolutely despise you since you were associated with alastor and the first time they met you was through one of Vox and alastors fights

So overall I think you’d be much happier and safer with alastor but that doesn’t exclude you from still feeling like a pet

But at least with this path, you’d have a chance at redemption for you

That’s if alastor didn’t drag you back from the pearly gates by a leash

———————————————————————

“And this little dear is my darling assistant” is the first thing you hear as your pulled from the shadows, you could recognise that voice anywhere.

One minute you were stood in your lovely kitchen and now your stood trying to take in what seems to be a hotel.

You try and hide your surprise as you turn to find your owners crazed grin staring down at you.

“What am I doing here alastor?” You question with a confused tone. You know you shouldn’t question him, Rosie had warned you against it, but you couldn’t help your curiosity “where have you been?”

Alastors eye twitches in what seems to be irritation as he stares down at you, you could see a cat demon behind alastor wince in what looked like fear before alastor wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Nevermind that, my little doe” alastor says with an over exaggerated laugh “I’ve brought you here because Charlie here has an idea to redeem demons, truly laughable I know but I’ve taken it upon myself to help her achieve this pipe dream”

Alastor laughed with radio static as a background before turning you to look at him once again.

“And I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it without my dearest little fawn” alastor said with a grin as his claws pinched your cheek in what could be seen as threatening or playful, you gave up guessing a long time ago “so from now on you’ll be staying here and helping me with this hotel, okay dear?”

You simply nodded at his question, knowing you had no grounds to refuse your owner. You had to play the loyal pet once again.

“Perfect” alastor said with pep in his tone as he let go of you and face you in the direction of the bar “now run along and get to know the others while I talk with Charlie about your rooming arrangements, I’ll call you back when I need you”

You nodded as you begin walking to the bar and you take a seat next to an extremely tall spider man who eyes you with curiosity. You’re in front of the cat demon from earlier who also regards you with intrigue.

“Hi” you say almost shyly as your ears remain pinned against your head, you hadn’t talked to someone other than Rosie or alastor since you made your deal and this entire experience was outside your comfort zone.

“Heya toots” the spider demon spoke unsurely as he looked down at you “where’s smiles been keepin’ you then?”

“Hm?” You make a questioning sound as your head tilts in a confused manner

“He means he’s not seen you around, no one has” the cat demon clarifies with a gruff tone “it’s weird for alastor not to cash in on a favour from his souls, angel here wants to know where alastors been keepin’ you”

“Oh” you say with a confused look “I don’t think he’s kept me hidden exactly”

“Well I only heard about you through whispers, but I assumed it was just rumours” husk responds gruffly “no one knew alastor had an assistant until a few days ago when he mentioned bringing you here”

“Didn’t think smiles had it in him” the spider, angel, comments before looking you up and down “your a bit young for him though, don’t ya think husk”

Husk nods cautiously as he takes in your appearance, you couldn’t have been been more than eighteen.

“It’s not like that” you assure with a mildly disturbed face at the thought of the insinuation

“Than what are you to smiles toots?” Angel asked curiously “because he certainly seemed fond of you”

You think for a moment on how to explain your connection with alastor before speaking cautiously

“Well, I’m his-“ you were about to answer but alastors call interrupted you.

“My dear” alastor called for you “don’t you think it’s time you and I set up for a broadcast”

You nod as you abandon the two demons to walk beside alastor on his way to his radio station, like a loyal mutt being called back into the house.

“I think it’s time I show that pesky TV that radio still lives” alastor comments as he puts his hand on your shoulder and guides you “and with my perfect little assistant, I’m sure my broadcast will be as great as ever”

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kittyball23 · 5 months

Note

How do you think Trolls World Tour would’ve played out if Branch reunited with Floyd who was living with the rock trolls but fled when he heard of Barb’s plan to find help to stop her only to run into Poppy and his little brother all grown up?

I think it perhaps would have played out a little something like this 🙂:

Between a Rock and a Hard Place (a Trolls fanfic)

“AAAHHHHHHH!”

The scream startled Branch and Poppy, the pair of them taken aback by the sight of their friend, Biggie, frantically scurrying through the crowd of Trolls in the Village’s clearing. The cause of his fear was made apparent when the Trolls noticed a fuzzy, bat-like creature zipping along right behind him, flapping its leathery, black wings persistently, her bugged red eyes fixed unwaveringly on him.

“Help!” Biggie cried out in desperation. “I’m being harangued by a monster!”

Giving up trying to outrun it, the big blue Troll crouched down and put his hands over his head, hoping it would perhaps go away. But, it didn’t. The creature beat its wings against him and made angry hissing sounds.

“Someone stop it!” he whimpered helplessly.

Luckily, as he’d wished, it was right at that moment that a shock of magenta hair whipped out and snatched the creature from the air. Relief passed through the Trolls, until they realized that it was not the Pop Queen who had grabbed the critter. In fact, it was nobody that the village knew.

But - standing there in the clearing donning black shorts with a large belt buckle, and a simple, black, pearl earring - the Troll seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“Gotcha! Okay, shhh, shh… Now calm down,... who’s a good girl? You’re a good girl…”

The batty creature struggled in the newcomer’s grasp for a second, not appreciating being held steadfast, but quickly was soothed as the Troll rubbed its furry little belly and spoke hushedly. Pretty soon, its flapping had stopped entirely and purred, the vibration rumbling against his teal hand.

Once the others could sense no more imminent danger, they began to gather a little closer, whispering among themselves.

“Who is that?” Legsly asked, pointing at the new Troll. “And what is that thing he’s holding?” she added, referring to the critter.

“It’s creepy!” Cooper shuddered, shielding his eyes from the creature.

“It’s scary!” Satin and Chenille chimed at the same time.

“And… naAaAAasty,” Guy Diamond yelped in his techno-like voice.

“Hold me, Daddy!” Tiny Diamond whimpered in his deep voice, letting his father clutch him close for protection.

Suddenly realizing that all the attention had gone to him, the newcomer shrunk under everybody’s gaze, bashfully tucking his head down between his shoulders and allowing his magenta bangs to fall over his face, so that it shielded his left eye.

Branch’s eyes narrowed at him, though he could feel that his gaze was not as intense as he would’ve liked for it to be. Reason being, there was something strangely familiar about this Troll. What it was, though, he couldn’t pinpoint right away. That hair, that voice… he could’ve sworn he’d seen and heard it, if long ago in his memory.

As it turned out, it wasn’t a much different situation for the new Troll, either. He looked at him curiously, mirroring Branch by slightly tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, as if there too was something he was trying to figure out. It was only when he shifted his gaze down to the leafy green vest Branch was wearing that things clicked. Recognition seemed to flash across his face in an instant, the magenta-haired Troll lifting his eyes to meet Branch’s and looking as though he were about to say something. But before he could…

“‘To Queen Poppy’?” Poppy read aloud from a scroll that the creature had dropped on the ground. She was confused to see her name written on it, and continued to read. “’Barb, Queen of Rock, announces her One Nation of Trolls Under Rock World Tour. Bring your string to the biggest party in the world has ever seen.’” Poppy beamed. “Oh, don’t worry everyone. It’s an invitation!”

The Trolls chattered excitedly. A party? With games and presents and glitter galore? That sounded like fun!

“But why does she need our string?” Cooper questioned.

“And what does ‘Queen of Rock’ mean? Who is she?” Poppy asked aloud.

“You don’t wanna know.”

Poppy whirled around to face the newcomer, his silence having her almost forget entirely that he was even there. “Trust me,” he said again, “you don’t.”

The Pop Queen was startled to hear such a thing. “But… it’s a party!” she exclaimed.

“Not the kind you wanna go to,” the Troll replied without hesitation. “Not with what the Hard Rockers have planned…”

Poppy shook her head. “But who are they?”

“Nobody!” King Peppy shouted, hurrying into the crowd of Trolls, sidling up to his daughter’s side and tearing the invitation from her hand. He proceeded to crumble it in a frenzy, all while crying out hysterically. “Nobody saw anything! Nothing to see here!” He then turned to the magenta-haired Troll and began to shove him away. “Young man, go back to where you came from! Now, please!”

“Whoa, whoa, Dad!” Poppy called, touching her father on the shoulder. He yelped, jolting and looking at her wildly. Popy was baffled. Her Dad was kicking out a Troll? What in the world for? She took his hands in hers in and spoke soothingly to calm him. “Dad, what’s going on?”

King Peppy gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment, peering between her and the new Troll, and then sighed.

“Oh, Poppy,” he moaned, “I’ve long feared this day would come. I was hoping to protect you from this.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow. “Protect me?” she asked. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. I’m the queen now.”

“You’re right,” King Peppy agreed, nodding slowly. “The truth is… we are not alone in this world…”

Mr. Dinkles made a spooky sound to accompany King Peppy’s explanation. Biggie stuck a finger in his pet form’s round mouth.

“Shhh!” Biggie said to his little friend.

“You see, there are other kinds of Trolls,” King Peppy told everyone. The Trolls around him were silent for a moment, taking this in. Other Trolls? What did King Peppy mean?”

“Wow, really?” Poppy said enthusiastically. “Dad, that’s great! The more Trolls, the merrier!”

The newcomer scoffed. “If only it were that easy,” he mumbled.

King Peppy cut his eyes to him, frowning. “Young man, this conversation does not involve you. I’ve asked you to leave once… don’t make me have to call security!” He jerked a thumb over to where Smidge was standing, the little Troll cracking her knuckles in anticipation of a potential scuffle.

The Troll gulped at the sight, and quickly stammered an explanation. “N-no! Please, I’m not here to cause trouble. I came here to help you guys.”

But when Peppy did not relax, and Poppy began to show signs of discomfort at the confrontation, Branch stepped in to enforce the matter.

“You heard him,” he stated simply, but with a hardness to his voice that spoke more volumes alongside the clenched fists at his side.

“I know,” he replied. “But I can’t just leave you guys in danger, Branch.”

“We’re more than capable of taking care of our - Wait, what?” Branch blinked, surprised to hear this stranger call him by name. How did he know who he was?

The Troll offered a gentle smile. “It’s been a while, bro.”

The blue Troll gasped, realizing exactly who this was and being unable to believe it. All the years he waited and waited, until he couldn't anymore, and now he was back? He could almost feel tears pooling in his eyes as a mix of conflicting emotions assaulted him.

Poppy saw the strong reaction coming from her friend, and cautiously spoke to the newcomer.

“I’m sorry... Who did you say you were, again?”

The newcomer let out a breath he was holding, tucked the bat creature under one arm and extended his other to Poppy to properly introduce himself.

“Forgive me for not doing this sooner. My name is Floyd,” he said, “and I’m Branch’s brother.”

__________________________________________

With the manner in which the Trolls in the clearing had erupted into a cacophony of noise - a mix of questions about the Troll-turned-sibling, panic-stricken worries over the idea of the existence of other strange Trolls, and even outright screaming - it came as no surprise that Peppy had ordered for them to break into a smaller group, to allow for a little more privacy.

It was here in the beautiful secluded grotto in the company of just Floyd, Poppy, Branch, and the Snack Pack that King Peppy wove a tale unlike any other that had been heard. A story of six Tribes of Trolls, each uniquely defined by their special taste in music - Techno, Funk, Classical, Country, Rock, and Pop - and how harmony had been created as a result of it. The harmony, however, was not meant to last. Intolerance sprouted like weeds, leading to discord, leading to the ultimate separation of each tribe. But perhaps the most striking part of the tale was the revelation of their own string - the Pop string, a gorgeous pink in color and producing an equally gorgeous sound, housing the very lifeforce that made them them - the toe-tapping, finger-snapping, rump-shaking Trolls they were.

“Ohh, I get it,” Poppy murmured, “Queen Barb wants to reunite the strings so that the Trolls Kingdom can be one big party again!” The Pop Queen grinned a little. She liked the sound of that!

But Floyd shook his head. “Um, no,” he disagreed gently. “Barb has no interest whatsoever in uniting the world. She wants to destroy it. And she’s going to do it one tribe at a time until there’s none left!” He picked up the invite from where it lay (a little wrinkled, but still legible) next to the ancient scroll that King Peppy had used to depict the tale. “These invitations were just the first step. A deception. And anyone who doesn’t give up their string is going to have it taken by force.” He looked at the bat critter in his hands and sighed. “I tried to stop the invite from even reaching you guys, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough to keep up with Debbie here…”

Poppy was stunned. “B-but… why would another queen use her power for evil? Didn’t anyone try to stop her?”

“The Hard Rockers are all on board,” Floyd explained. “She managed to convince everyone that this was the best thing to do for her people. They all believed her. Well, um… except for me. But then again, I was never a true Rock Troll from the start…”

Poppy snapped her fingers. “That’s riiiight… and that’s something else I’m not understanding…” She turned on her friend. “Branch! How come you never told me you have a secret brother?!”

The blue Troll frowned. “What’s there to tell? I have no brothers.”

Floyd was confused. “Branch, what are you talking about? Just take a look at us…”

It was true. Even by sight, there was a very distinct similarity between the two of them, from their teal skin, purple noses, round face shapes, and even slight downward curve of their ears.

But Branch crossed his arms defiantly. “I have no brothers,” he said again, emphasizing each syllable, “because the day you walked out on me, you lost the chance to ever call me that again.”

“Branch, please, believe me, I was going to come back, it’s just - “

“Just what?” Branch cut in, scoffing. “You’re a liar. You never followed through with your promise.”

Floyd fiddled with his fingers. “Well, um, I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Uh-huh… twenty years TOO LATE!” Branch turned to the others in the grotto. “Why should we believe someone like this? For all we know, he could be a spy for these ‘Hard Rock’ Trolls!” He searched his friends’ faces. Silently taking it all in, Biggie, Smidge, Cooper, Guy Diamond, and Legsly were a mixture of uncertainty and concern, not sure what to make of it.

King Peppy spoke up for them. “Branch,” he said gently, “I certainly see where you’re coming from. But… are you willing to put our tribe in danger because of it?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.” He then waved to the Trolls. “Hurry now! We must prepare before Barb arrives! We’ve got no time to lose!”

“Dad, wait!” Poppy cried, trying to stop her him and her friends as they shuffled off. “Guys, come on! Just because they’re different doesn’t mean that the solution is fighting! Branch, help me out here, say something!”

Branch marched right by her. “Wait for me!” he called out. But as he scurried by, he was grabbed by the arm.

“Branch, wait,” Floyd pleaded. Then he turned to Poppy. “Could you, uh… give us a minute?” he asked politely.

Branch wanted to protest, but he groaned, and did not put up a fight. “I’ll meet you in a second, Poppy,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh! Um, okay…” She trudged off, sparing one last glance at them before heading off in the direction her father had gone. The two boys were left there in an awkward, tense silence.

Floyd broke it first, clearing his throat. “Wow… you’ve really grown into that vest of mine. You’re… a man now.”

Branch kept his back turned to him as he answered tersely. “Just goes to show how long it’s been.”

Floyd sighed. “Look, Branch, I know that nothing I can say is a valid enough excuse for what happened. I guess I just got so caught up with my solo career once the Rock Trolls took me in. But I swear that there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you.” He chuckled for a second. “Remember how we used to make up songs and dances? It was a lot of fun.”

It was, Branch recalled, almost wanting to smile, but he composed himself. “That’s all in the past,” he said coldly, turning to look him right in the eye. “And besides, actions speak louder than words. And the fact is that you never came back.”

Branch felt a tug at his heart when Floyd winced, hurt by his words. But then again, they were words of truth.

“You’re right,” Floyd said, “Actions do speak louder than words. And here I am now, trying to save my little brother from something that I know for sure is going to harm him. Because I want him to be safe. It was a mistake to leave him the first time. And I don’t want to lose him again.”

Branch felt himself loosening. He wanted to keep up the wall of ice he built around himself should any of his brothers try to come back into his life. But not even those walls were immune to the warmth of Floyd’s kindness. “I really want to believe you, Floyd,” he whispered, “I just don’t know if I can…”

“Then let's just take things one step at a time, okay?” And when Branch nodded, Floyd took the opportunity to extend his arms out, allowing Branch to decide whether he wanted to make a move or not.

It didn’t take long to come to that decision, though. Branch embraced Floyd in a replica of that very same night that he had left him. He squeezed tightly, wanting to confirm his physical presence, and afraid to let go should he have been a mirage this entire time.

“Awww…”

The pair broke apart, finding Poppy cooing at the scene. She grinned sheepishly upon realizing she’d intruded on the private moment.

“Oh! I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, Poppy,” Branch assured. “We’re just about done here.”

“Oh, good,” she breathed in relief. “Well, I mean, because, I wanted to talk to you guys about Barb. We’ve gotta stop her!”

“Can’t say I disagree with the endgoal here, but the trouble comes in the ‘how,’” Floyd pointed out.

“Well, we can think about it as we get everyone safely hidden away in the bunker,” Branch said, waving them to follow.

“Bunker?” Floyd asked, coming up alongside his brother.

“Oh, it’s the coolest thing ever!” Poppy gushed. “It’s underground, and it’s got all these tunnels and rooms, and trapdoors, and… and so much cool stuff!”

Floyd beamed. “Wow, so you built the hideout, huh? I’m proud of you, Branch.”

“Hideout?” The Pop Queen echoed, curious.

There was a hint of a bashful blush in the blue Troll’s cheeks as he shrugged in reply. “Heh, well, it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Of course it is,” Floyd countered, bumping his elbow against his. “Did you even add the ten-story waterslide?”

Poppy gasped. “A waterslide in the bunker? That sounds amazing!”

But Branch shook his head. “Nah.”

“But then, how do you shower?”

Branch answered his brother’s teasing question with a little smirk. “I bathe.”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #branch trolls #poppy trolls #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask!#kittyball answers #100+

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okimnerdy · 4 months

Text

Trolls Headcannons

(BROZONE Edition)

[Hi yes. Welcome to another fixation.]

•The brothers got out of the troll tree BEFORE it got caged in by the Bergens. They only heard about the outer trolls being hunted, but never thought it would make it to the main settlement. All of them believed that Branch and Grandma were still alive.

•The brothers knew of other genres of music, even dabbling into a few of them. JD and Clay enjoyed techno and funk. Bruce enjoyed classical. Floyd enjoyed rock. No one really fancied country music.

John Dory

°JD felt like the group had to be perfect and loved due to their parents. Their parents (before they got "chosen" or before leaving after the last kid was born) had a wish-wash way of parenting, only giving positive attention when the boys did something of merit.

°JD acted more like a parent than a brother, assigning roles he felt fit his brothers in order to give them a better foothold in their life and career in the group. He blamed himself if they didn't seem to succeed.

° JD hasn't truly showered in like 10 years. Man is a "water's clean" kind of guy, and was promptly held down by his brothers for a cleaning. Rhonda helped by essentially being a pressure washer.

°JD found Rhonda as a baby pill bug and didn't expect her to get so big. He felt a little bad decorating her once she was big enough to house him, fearing that he was hurting her.

Bruce

°Bruce let go of his ripped image because of Brandi's cooking. This man fell in love with her food THEN her. He felt at ease with her, especially since she didn't know Brozone.

°Bruce grew his hair out for his little girl to play with since her brothers won't. He lets her put little braids and clips in from time to time, and he wears them proudly.

Clay

°Clay tried to go back for Branch during the escape, but got caught in a wave of escaping trolls. After seeing the collapsed tunnels, he believed that his family got out safely even though he never truly knew for nearly 20 years.

°Clay made it to other Troll settlements and became a CPA after leaving Brozone and before he attempted to go back.

°Clay bonded with Viva over the loss of family due to the split™. He would share all these stories about Branch and she would try to do the same for Poppy, even though she was barely a year old when they got separated.

°Clay's little admin hut actually is bigger on the inside. He dug out a little living space underneath to hold his bed, desk, and a small kitchenette. Its like his own little bunker.

Floyd

°Floyd did a self-discovery journey through the other genres. He hung around the rock and country trolls the longest due to them being more land-based tribes, even though country trolls don't particularly like visitors.

°Floyd made a name for himself in the indie scene, eventually making his way to Mount Rageous where he had a new contract in the works. He had hoped this small push would bring his family back.

°Floyd suffers from muscle spasms and PTSD after his time in the bottle. Branch was kind enough to help develop a wheelchair and other mobility aids for him to use in the jungle gym called Pop Village.

°Floyd experiences fatigue easier. One of the brothers is always ready to be a pillow or a helping hand when he needs to rest. Poppy goes to him when she wants to know what else the village can do for others like him.

Branch

°Branch's muted color is due to his many years in the gray. He still feels the effects of the fight™ and grandma's capture, and personally blames himself from time to time. He leans on Poppy and his brothers who assure him that things are okay. No one really knows if he'll fully get back to his bright blue.

°Branch kept an item from each brother, even if they don't know it. They're buried somewhere in storage. He only wears Floyd's vest cause he missed him the most and held no animosity to him.

°Branch knows exactly how to deal with his nephews and niece when their energy gets too high because of Poppy. Sometimes, he'll ask her to help since she already teaches the younger trolls in the village.

<<prev || next>>

#trolls band together #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls headcanons #trolls world tour #trollstopia #trolls the beat goes on #trolls movie

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fabled-fiction · 11 months

Note

Hiii!! I saw ur across the spiderverse update and I was wondering if you could do Hobie Brown headcanons for maybe a reader in his Earth who’s more techy, and works in like DJ or Techno themed music. It’d be pretty kool

Soundwaves

Hobie Brown x Techy!DJ!Reader Headcanons

Summary: Headcanons for a Techno DJ reader on Hobie’s Earth. How y’all go from strangers, to friends, to something else entirely ❤️💙

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: N/A (could possible have SPOILERS for ATSV but Im pretty sure there isnt)

A/N: I KINDA WENT OVERBOARD??? I had alot of fun writing this and hope it meets expectations!! ☺️

— When you live on an Earth thats as messed up (politically) as Earth 138 you have to find an out. Something to keep you from going crazy.

— For you that was music.

— More specifically techno.

— It was just, easy for you to sit down and plug yourself into your already well loved computer and not come out until you had produced at least one or two songs.

— Soon after you realized you could do so much more with this music.

— It start out small. You would show a few friends, who would show other friends. And soon after that it started to snowball.

— You were starting to hold “shows” if thats what you could call it. After Dark DJ sessions and Midnight rave rallys.

— It was just the beginning of the role you would take though.

— After a while you had started to spread this message through your music. Your flyers for your shows started to also be flyers for change.

— And soon enough you caught the eye of a certain spider. Who’s message wasn’t so different from yours.

— Especially when you were holding an exclusively inclusive rally in an old abandoned Fisk tower.

— He was curious how the hell you were gonna get in the building, it was guarded per say but it had locks even he couldn’t break.

— But as he watched you, he was impressed with how you worked your way around the keypad.

— You had this small little mechanism, which he could tell was homemade, that you plugged into the devices. All you had to do was press a few buttons and reprogram it.

— With two zaps you were in, and the keycards with your calling-card that were on the flyers handed out on it made much more sense now.

— The show itself was probably the hardest you had put on. The music and the lightshow alone were impressive. He especially had a good view from above in the rafters.

— You were in your element. You were moving to the beat, your stage presence alone told him that you truly loved what you were doing.

— After everything was said and done, you stayed on that stage till the very last person left

— Or so you thought

— As you were breaking down your equipment (also all handbuilt, he’d have to figure out how you made all this bulky equipment compactable) he decided to make himself known

— Slowly, he lowered (upside down) till he was technically in front of you. You had your back turned to him though as you were clipping a particularly difficult suitcase closed

— “Need help?”

— Needless to say you were caught off guard, because you whipped around holding what looked like a keyboard ready to smack him

— Luckily he had caught your wrist, and watched as the electronic face on your own mask turned from an angry emoticon to surprised.

— Were you surprised that THE Spiderman was at your show? Yes and No.

— While you’re sure your music wasn’t his style, based off his spike hawk and battle vest, you were sure that your views matched up.

— “Ive got it, thanks though.”

— With one more press of a button, everything else collapsed down. You were left with only two suitcases to carry.

— “‘ow you do all that? Its quiet impressive.”

— “Its quite simple, I could show you sometime.”

— That small little interaction would later spiral into an interesting friendship between the two of you

— While he never called you his person in the chair, he did find himself often coming to or contacting you whenever there was a code he couldnt crack or a person he needed identifying

— And whenever you needed a little extra help spreading the word about another one of your rave rallys there was no doubt he would have a handful of flyers accidentally falling out of his arm as he was swinging

— The night you both showed each-other your faces definitely solidified your friendship

— You were working on a new track, headphones plugged in when your phone started buzzing.

— SPIDEY P: open the window

— When you opened said window, (mask on btw) he had rushed in and then slammed it shut

— He had drew your curtains shut and grabbed your dresser, sliding it infront of your window

— You were very confused

— But when he had explained to you that Osborn had gotten wind of him and your friendship he apparently raced right over to your place

— While you were now a little scared for your life, you were more flattered

— It seemed like he had raced right over, cause he was huffing and puffing as he leaned on the edge of the bed

— “What if I…showed you my face? That way you could know like…who to look out for?”

— You could tell your question had caught him off guard, but he didn’t hesitate to reach for the edge of is his mask. And your were just as quick to reach to the clip on the back of yours

— Maybe this is also when your relationship…changed

— Not only because you both were seemingly breathtaken by both of eachother but…the fact the fact that you both had without question went to rip your masks off

— It was a raw…personal type of respect that had been shown that night

— Afterwards Hobie (whos named you had learned literal seconds after the mask off) started coming over more

— It was usually in the after hours, he would come and relax. You both would start getting to know each-other more personally.

— He started giving you samples to include in your sets, and you EVENTUALLY got him to download some of your songs

— The first time he takes you web swinging you swear you almost lost your life

— Despite the fact that he was holding onto you with dear life

— Because at this point he wouldn’t know how to react if he accidentally got you hurt

— Thats why he rushed over as fast as he could when he saw a screencap of you at one of your shows

— Whenever he went to your place, and your curtains were open he’d take a moment just to watch you in your natural element.

— He loved it when he was listening to one of your songs, and he heard his sample mixed in perfectly

— Your medleys and his always seemed to blend into each other perfectly, despite being from almost two completely different genres

— You started to notice how your heart would flutter whenever you saw him in the rafters of yourshow

— Especially if he shows up as Hobie?? OH BOy does your heart pick up

— You noticed he started being…closer? He would put his hand on the small of your back or between your shoulderblades whenever he would lean over to look at your computer

— He would “accidentally” leave one of his spiked cuffs behind, and lemme tell you he knew you would wear it so you wouldnt forget to give it to him

— So when he sees you wearing it at one of your shows (since it had become almost a tradition for him to help you pack up after a show) his heart always feels like its gonna jump outta his chest

— You guys dance around each other for a while. You both know theres gotta be SOMETHING there. You’ve both noticed the how soft you’ve come around each other

— Both your smiles become sweeter. You hug him for longer, you grip onto him just a bit tighter when he takes you out swinging to his favorite spots.

— Those are your favorite hang out nights. When you just go to sit ontop of whatever building or tower Hobie decided to take you too. Sometimes he even takes you to a tower thats right across from an art piece he had dabbled with.

— It all comes to a boiling point though, one night when you were on a call with Hobie as he was slinging around.

— You’re talking his ear off about some new sound board you were thinking about getting. He was eating it up.

— But then he starts breaking up, and you hear alot of scuffling. When he completely cuts out you lose it.

— You cant go out there, you dont have any weapon of any sort. You also know Hobie would lose it if you put yourself in danger because of him

— So all you can do is keep restarting his tracker and hope he’s okay

— You’re on your apartment fire escape in an instant just waiting for him to come back after a while, to keep yourself from going crazy

— You knew he would, especially since you cut out

— So when he slowly comes into your view, with his mask half down he smiles at you.

— He…SMILES?? SERIOUSLY??

— You don’t know what to say as you stare at him with tears in your eyes, but he does apparently

— He was always a man of action, actions do speak louder than words

— He had pulled the bottom of his mask down just enough to show the bottom half of his face

— And then he’s kissing you, his gloved hand coming to hold the side of your face. It takes you a second before you react, but then you go to hold the edge of his mask and really just sink into the moment

— After that your dynamic changes. You two become MUCH closer physically, share more private kisses and nights actually spent together.

— Those late night swings turn into dates on top of buildings, where he will sometimes (usually every time) play a song for you

— You are permanently always wearing one of his cuffs

— And suddenly the infamous Spiderman has a new patch on his battle vest, that has your stage name on it

#marvel x reader #x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #headcanon #hobie brown headcanons

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lightwise · 29 days

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Hidden Monsters

For some reason this has been a bear (dragon, Vrathean, pick your Star Wars creature) to write, but I realized after this last episode of TBB that there was more to the “monster of the week” trope that we all love to get tired of in Star Wars, and specifically for our beloved Batch members. I believe that some of the main “monsters” each member of the Batch has faced and could face represent inner turmoil and the storms/dark things within that each of them has had to wrestle with. The choices each of them have made to tame or calm or live with the creatures they have encountered, instead of automatically killing them or choosing violence against them, is a powerful metaphor. Something that looks like a monster on the outside may not necessarily be a monster on the inside, when cared for and acknowledged properly.

Echo and the Rishi Eel

Echo’s very first mission on Rishi station involved a giant monster, a droid army invasion, watching his superior officer die in front of him, and losing most of his squad along with the entire outpost he had been assigned to help defend. After the Rishi station is overrun by battle droids, Echo, Fives, Hevy, and Cutup escape through an air vent only to land in the middle of what turns out to be the Rishi eel’s nest. Echo is second to last in line and has to watch as Cutup is snatched up by the eel right behind him and swallowed whole. Echo is the only one to look back and commemorate Cutup with his name and a sigh before they have to keep moving. He does the same at the end of the episode when they lose Hevy, thanking him for his self sacrifice. Echo’s mind—strategic, careful, hesitant, wanting to do the right thing—is always on his brothers and their safety, and his own fears and questioning give way to courage and determination as he watches his brothers do what needs to be done.

This formative experience is literally emblazoned on Echo’s chest and becomes part of his identity when Rex shoots the eel in the eye, wipes some of its blood on his hand, and presses it against Echo’s armor as he encourages him to keep going. This combination of bravery, looking death in the eye, and holding compassion for each of his brothers as they fall continues to be a running theme throughout Echo’s character arc—from holding 99 in his arms as he dies, to hanging in the Techno Union chamber where his mind and body were used to hunt down the brothers he loved, to overcoming the changes and loss he’s experienced and finding a new family with the Batch and Omega, to coming full circle and joining Rex to help free his brothers from the Empire’s grip. He has had to watch as brother after brother is taken away from him, but he has learned how to keep going in the face of loss. These experiences bring out who he is—caring, loyal, brave, resolute, and a symbol of endurance—and trace back to the very first monster he had to face.

Hunter, Omega, and the Ordo Moon Dragon

In season 1 the Batch is newly on the run from Kamino after Order 66, finding Omega, and losing Crosshair. They crash onto an uninhabited planet and while trying to repair their ship, an Ordo Moon Dragon makes off with their capacitor, leaving them stranded. Like the Zillo beast seen in season 2, it feeds on energy but is actually peaceful when not provoked. Hunter wants to track it down, by himself, but Omega insists on accompanying him. While tracking the creature, Omega brings up Crosshair’s absence, and Hunter is unwilling to even say Crosshair’s name, and he is very uncomfortable with the conversation. He is unwilling and unable to face his demons right now, and instead is wallowing in self-blame. Hunter won’t be able to fully face his inner turmoil until Crosshair returns and they encounter the Wyrm on Barton IV, another dragon-like creature which also burrows underground (although it is much, much larger, and more harmful than the Ordo Moon Dragon, signifying how much Hunter’s avoidance and resentment grows over time as it is not dealt with). It’s also interesting that this episode cuts back and forth to Crosshair fully under the influence of the chip and wiping out Saw Gurerra’s insurgents in a very violent manner.

Hunter ends up being knocked out by the creature and Omega takes her flashlight and his blaster to complete the mission, going alone into the tunnels where the dragon lives. What Omega learns is that she doesn’t need the blaster to deal with the situation. As scary as it is, she doesn’t have to kill the dragon or use violence against it, as it’s simply hungry and looking for food. The terrifying creature becomes a thing of beauty, green electric shocks running over its rainbow colored body, illuminating the tunnel and Omega’s face as it feeds on the flashlight she throws to it in exchange for their capacitor. The visuals mimic the teal and green rippling over the Vrathean that Omega and Ventress encounter and have to calm down in season 3 (more on that further on).

However, this wasn’t Omega’s mission. It was Hunter’s, but she ends up completing it for him. Omega learns a valuable lesson here, which fits in with her natural tendencies of drawing both people and animals to her caring, compassionate nature instead of judging them based on appearance, but I’m not sure that this was her ultimate trial in facing her own inner demons. (See my thoughts on why this is important at the end of this essay in the Ventress section.) This also was a failed attempt for Hunter, and he would end up facing his trial again in The Return in season 3.

Wrecker and the Rancor (Muchi)

Wrecker was introduced as a character whose expertise is in explosives and making things blow up. He lives for making a ruckus and having a good time, but his strengths are engineered to be used for destruction.

Much of Wrecker’s character arc in season 1 is learning how to become more of an adult/parental figure for Omega, and how to put his own desires and needs aside in order to help take care of hers (letting her eat first, making a room for her in the gunners nest, watching out for her). In Rampage, the Batch is charged with rescuing a “child,” who they eventually find out is a young, ornery, and decidedly huge Rancor. Wrecker is the only one of them strong enough to sedate the creature after a lengthy bout of essentially hand to hand “combat.” They needed to bring Muchi back alive and Wrecker ends up gaining mutual affection and respect with her. Muchi is now calm and tamed enough that Omega can ride on her back with no fear or worry of danger.

Rancors adhere to a strict social and familial hierarchy, and have to challenge the alpha for authority. Wrecker starts out brash and boastful, and even though he is always caring, he becomes much more aware of his surroundings and his standing in their family unit as he grows in his responsibilities toward Omega. Rampage is shortly before his chip goes off, where he almost kills his entire squad. While his brute strength is an asset when used in the right ways, it is lethal if used for the wrong ones, and through his family bonds (especially with Omega) Wrecker is ultimately able to overcome the worst, chipped version of who he had been made to be, and instead be a source of safety and strength for Omega and his family.

Tech and the Zillo Beast

The Zillo beast is a marvel amongst Star Wars creatures. Its armor is impenetrable and highly valuable, and it feeds almost exclusively on energy, which allows it to become larger and morph into an even more powerful creature. When the Batch encounters it in season 2 in Metamorphasis, it tries to attack all of them, but Tech is the only one who is “fascinated” by the creature rather than scared of it. Similar to the Zillo beast feeding on energy, Tech’s mind was what he was known for, and he “fed” it by constantly consuming and integrating data about the world around him (which is transmitted by energy currents). During this episode Tech is confident in his own capabilities and extremely interested in learning more about the cloning technologies they were uncovering on this crashed ship. Tech’s research on the Zillo beast, while helpful, unfortunately comes too late and the Batch are unable to either put down or recapture the creature before it grows too strong for them to deal with. In the process, the Zillo beast escapes and is eventually recaptured by the Empire.

I’ve always been fascinated by the point in this episode where Tech is downloading the rest of the information from the terminal onto his data pad, and Hunter warns Omega that Imperials are inbound. She immediately tells Tech they need to go, and he refuses for a moment, saying he needs to finish capturing the data. If Omega did not pressure him to leave (and the electricity go out), he very well could have been standing there when ships bomb their location a few moments later, and gotten both himself and Omega killed for no good reason. At this moment his love of knowledge is overpowering his common sense and his love for his family, and it almost costs him everything.

Contrast this to a few moments later when he pulls Omega out of danger as they leave the ship, and Plan 99 when he chooses to sacrifice himself not for his own gain, but solely so his family has a chance to live. He had to face his greatest asset where it could also be his greatest failure, and learn how to prioritize and wield his strengths.

Crosshair and the Vulture

In The Outpost in season 2, Crosshair has spent almost two seasons engulfed in poor choices made both against his will (the chip), and of his own volition (staying with the Empire no matter what in pursuit of a sense of purpose and loyalty). His decisions are starting to grate on him and have led him down a dark path, but he hasn’t been fully ready to find a way to change them. When he lands on the icy planet of Barton IV, he encounters fearsome ice vultures shrieking overhead. He is told by the outpost’s commanding clone officer, Mayday, that the creatures are vicious, but admirable, because they find a way to survive.

Vultures signify both death and cleansing and are often feared and viewed with disgust, yet are an integral part of nature. Crosshair’s isolation and status as a clone soldier have put him in a precarious and often misjudged position, in ways he doesn’t even fully realize until this episode. His very life is in danger due to the Empire’s stance toward the clones, but so far Crosshair has believed that he is valuable to the Empire in ways that the regular clones are not. This attitude and perspective are severely challenged by Lieutenant Nolan, who speaks contemptuously both about and to every clone he encounters. Nolan’s lack of respect for them as soldiers, as officers, and even as people, is an extreme look at what Crosshair’s callousness and misplaced loyalty could lead him to if he is not careful. His fate is hanging in the balance.

After being sent on an inhumane mission to retrieve two crates of armor in a blinding snowstorm, Crosshair and Mayday are caught in an avalanche. After coming up out of the snow gasping for air, Crosshair could choose to get himself back to base and leave Mayday behind. Find a way to survive in the cold on his own, but kill the last of his compassion and personal values in the process. Instead, he chooses to put his life even more at risk to bring Mayday along with him.

Unfortunately for both of them, when they get back to base, Nolan has zero sympathy for their self-sacrifice, and allows Mayday to die unceremoniously on the platform from his wounds. Once again, a vulture is circling overhead, waiting to partake of its next meal. It signifies the threat of death but also Crosshair’s struggle and desire to survive. Crosshair is now staring his own lack of value and expendability in the face, and where he finds himself is now fully intolerable. He cannot continue on the way he has been without the very essence of who he is breaking irreparably in the process. Does he reclaim who he is, a compassionate and forceful individual who protects those he cares about? Or does he fall in line with what the Empire wants from him, knowing he will be discarded regardless?

Crosshair integrates his lesson in a visceral manner, his own personal traits mimicking the very essence of the ice vulture as he finally reorients his moral compass, takes a stand for himself and for his clone brothers, and takes vengeance on Lieutenant Nolan. His caution and inner turmoil are channeled into one desperate act as he becomes an agent/angel of death, the framing of the scene creating vulture-like wings spread on either side of him. He doesn’t expect to survive this encounter, choosing a path that looks like death on the outside but is cleansing and redeeming for him on the inside. He can now face the future as his whole, integrated self.

Hunter, Crosshair, the Vulture, and the Wyrm

The vulture and its meaning for Crosshair, as well as Hunter’s cut-short encounter with the Ordo Moon Dragon, both have their bookends in season 3’s episode The Return. Crosshair has seen immense character growth after his choices in The Outpost, and has not only redeemed himself but has been given the chance to start reconciling with everyone he has hurt. This episode has two creatures that serve two important purposes: the vulture returns as a metaphor for Crosshair’s need to reconcile with and forgive himself, and a new creature, a giant wyrm (nice Dune reference there, Star Wars) highlights the fractured rift between him and Hunter, and the anger, distrust, and resentment that Hunter has been running from since Aftermath.

The Batch has returned to Barton IV, and Crosshair is greeted by the ice vulture as they land. The weather is calm and clear this time, and the creature is observing him but not in a threatening way. At the same time, tensions rise to a breaking point between Hunter and Crosshair and a long-awaited argument starts between them. Before it can be resolved, the wyrm erupts out of the ground and puts all of their lives in danger. It had been kept at bay previously by high-pitched noises, (oddly similar to Hunter’s enhanced senses, which he has been so distracted from that he wasn’t aware of the danger ahead of time) and lived underneath the same snow that had buried Crosshair and Mayday.

In their efforts to draw the creature away from the outpost so they can turn the sensors back on, Hunter falls through the snow into the wyrm’s tunnels. Crosshair has already had his inner journey underneath the snow on Barton IV. This time, Hunter has to finally face his own struggles. Every step of the way he has been running and hiding, trying to keep his family and Omega safe by keeping them away from the Empire, away from Crosshair, away from danger, but failing miserably. This time, Hunter could simply let Crosshair haul him back up to the surface when he reaches the spot where Crosshair and Batcher have dug a hole in the ice to pull him out. But he hasn’t confirmed that the wyrm is actually past the boundary and that it is safe to turn the perimeter sensors back on. This time, Hunter stays below the surface, and keeps himself in harms way until he is absolutely sure that his family is safe and that his own emotions have been worked through. He is starting to take responsibility for his journey. His senses start to kick in again and he refuses to leave the tunnel until the wyrm is barreling down his neck, and then he finally accepts Crosshair’s help. Both of them run to safety, the perimeter beacons turn on, and the wyrm is now on the other side of an invisible barrier of sound, harmless and chastened until it finally slinks away.

The boys exchange glances and nods. Their rift has been bridged and they are both willing to move forward, together. This is proven by the end of the episode, where Crosshair, who has remained closed off and unwilling to discuss what he’s been through, opens up slightly to Hunter before they leave, and Hunter responds with forgiveness, acknowledgement, and hope for the future. And for now, it’s enough. Crosshair looks into the sky and watches the ice vulture flying overhead once again. Except this time, it flies off into the sunset, signifying that his lessons from this planet have been fully learned, that the spirit of survival in the face of death that he has been carrying with him can now be put towards living and thriving again. Both Hunter and Crosshair are leaving slightly more whole than when they first arrived, both as individuals and in their restored relationship with each other.

Ventress, Omega, and the Vrathean

Omega gets a second chance at taming a terrifying creature in The Harbinger in season 3. After Asajj Ventress shows up on Pabu to help the Batch figure out the m-count conundrum that makes Omega’s blood so valuable to the Empire, (and after Omega has begged her to stay and test her capabilities), she and Omega go out onto the ocean to test Omega’s potential Force sensitivity. (Also after Ventress had to whoop the boys’ backsides to get them to slightly trust her, but we won’t go into that here).

Throughout this season, (and really for most of her life), Omega has…not been doing well. Her time on Tantiss, leaving the rest of the clones imprisoned there behind when she and Crosshair escaped, and the relentless pursuit of her by the Empire has truly traumatized her and made her single-mindedly want to know why she is always in danger and putting everyone else around her in danger as well. Her mental health has been spiraling a bit and her inner turmoil is starting to rival Crosshair’s in season 2. She knows that m-count is important and is also thrilled at Ventress mentioning the Jedi, while the rest of the Batch and Ventress herself are very somber about the prospect that Omega might have Force capabilities. However, in her desire to have answers, she ends up being very impatient and frustrated and doesn’t even show her typical level of optimism and concentration in working through Ventress’ tests for her. It’s almost like her goal (finding answers) is at odds with what her idea of finding those answers looks like.

After having tried and failed to “reach out” to the Force to summon anything, Omega pouts and sits back down in the boat, seemingly defeated. Ventress has asked her to try to connect to nature, probably because she has seen Omega’s connection to Batcher and assumes that might be more in line with whatever her gifting might be. Two of Omega’s main traits and strengths are her optimism in the face of defeat, and her compassion toward literally every living thing she encounters. She is always curious, generous, caring, and wanting to connect with others. Which makes it even more curious that she is so easily stumped and disconnected by this exercise. She challenges Ventress to prove why *she* is the best person to be teaching Omega this lesson, and Ventress sighs but gently and carefully shows her powers by calling up a school of glowing green fish from the water. “I’m not the one holding back,” she tells Omega.

After a peaceful moment, however, another creature, this time a giant and tentacled Vrathean, emerges from the water as well and starts hunting Ventress and Omega down. It’s unclear if Ventress actually called the creature up herself or not, but if she did it was not intentional. She helps rescue Omega from the creature’s clutches and then chooses to put herself in more danger by letting it grab her, and communing with it through the Force as it tries to eat her. The deadly creature becomes a thing of astonishing beauty as the color of the sea ripples over its body and its eyes soften and recognize Ventress as a sentient being.

This is where it gets interesting, because this peacefulness, calm, and compassion is not something we would have associated with prior versions of Ventress. Her experiences and growth throughout the Clone Wars, her associations with Ahsoka and Quinlan, and her choices have turned her into a much softer and stronger version of herself. This has now become her trial by allowing her to showcase just how much she has changed, and how much her own worldview has flipped.

This is an incredible example for Omega, but similar to how she took Hunter’s trial for him in Replacement, Ventress has now filled what was supposed to be hers. This begs the question, what is Omega actually holding back on? Is she really Force sensitive? Or is just her compassion and tenderness toward everyone around her overtaking her in unhealthy ways? She has always had a tendency to put herself in harms way in an attempt to make up for the complications her presence brings her brothers.

Omega will have to face these implied monsters at some point. I’m not actually certain that she will end up facing a creature like everyone else has—there’s the possibility that because she naturally has more affinity with creatures and beings that look monstrous but really aren’t, she may end up facing her inner demons in another manner. Will it be a person instead? Or a choice? Even, might I say, an identity crisis? It remains to be seen, but the fact that she must face it in order to overcome and integrate it is unquestionable.

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kittycatcomander · 11 months

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AU where SBI are villains, and Kristin is the villain wrangler making sure all the kids who get counseling in her office get a chance to meet who ever they want, even if they’re wanted dead by the hero commission.

Cue meet-cute(?) between Kristin and Phil, where she spends weeks tracking down the infamous “ Crowfather, killer of heroes and hater of the system” because some little kid wanted see him, and she stands tall and totally not terrified (/s) on a rooftop waiting for him.

And Phil is faced with this woman who spent hours and hours researching his routines not to arrest him but to let a little kid meet him, and he just falls for her.

So they exchange numbers, and everytime from there on out when Kristin has a kid who wants to meet The Blade or Orpheus or Nemesis she just casually shoots THE TOP VILLAIN a message, internally screaming, while Phil is kicking his feet on the air like a stereotypical teenager everytime his phone dings with a personalized ringtone.

Hero!Dream: I have finally confronted you, doer of evil! Today, our fight will be legend-

Crowfather!Phil: wait pause mate- OMG ITS HER 🥰🥰

Hero!Dream: wait wha-

Technoblade: I’ll take it from here

And so begins her getting really casual about the fact she personally texts the top villain.

I’m imagining some side stuff where she meets Tommy, a sidekick in desperate need of help (which she’s happy to provide), and a few others who’s relationship evolves with her over time.

Kirstin when first meeting the Blade: hooooooly smokes this guy is Dangerous, but if the kid wants to meet him… I’ll be prepared

Techno: uhhhhhh (struggling to interact with the receptionist, holds kids and swings them around gently like planes, lets them win fake fights)

Kristin: ok wait he’s like seven shaking puppies built like a brick house

She and Phil talk more and more as the arrangement continues, about everything and eventually life, and things shift from there. The first time that a villain tries hurting one of the kids also shifts their relationship…. especially since Kristin handles it as efficiently as she does.

There’s more, but in this AU I imagine Kristin to have a super dangerous power of her own (unregistered because teehee) that motivated her to work with troubled youth in need of help and kids working with a limited lifespan. I want her to be OP but just friendly and downplaying her ability since she was never in a situation to use it to the full extant.

Also there’d obviously be a CrimeBoys plot and adoption of Tommy into the family (bye bye Dream) which leads to her getting invited over to like. Family dinners and stuff, where the interactions are all completely cute and normal but undercut by her perspective reminding her of crimes they’ve all committed. Like-

“Phil, who had the most beautiful eyes but hands stained with the blood of approximately 3,791 people, passed her the salad with a bright smile. His son(?) continued the story of how he met a new friend. Kristin wasn’t sure if the story was in or out of masks, and she was scared to ask at this point.”

I especially want her to and Phil to reflect the two main approaches to changing the world, where you could either completely destroy the system in place (villains, anarchy) and forcefully restart, or you could tackle an issue at its lowest (if the world is full of corrupt people, change the people from a young age)

#Kristin #sleepy bois inc #superpowers #superhero au #supervillain au #tommyinnit #mcyt #tommy mcyt #technoblade #philza #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot #sbi #sbi incorrect quotes #crime boys #dsmp techno #dsmp fanfic #philza minecraft #dsmp tommy

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denzartriste · 11 days

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Bedrock bros drawing based on this stock photo provided by @epicaxolotls

Alt versions + closeup + talking a LOT under cut about this drawing <3

^ this is technicly the original version, but i really liked the tinted effect i slapped on last minute so thats the one im putting above the cut.

v Crashed my drawing app when doing these effects, it was so worth it look its shiny. Im a simple man i see shiny i eat my own art

v Closeups!!!

The rambling is lightly edited from me blabbing about this drawing in a discord server, so if it's very 'steam of conscious' it is because i was literally texting these thoughts

Okay so the BRAIDS. The braids in it are IMPORTANT okay they are they are

The designs aren't timeline consistent, because i was doing the drawing for me and also @epicaxolotls and both of us solely care about the fact there is bedrock bros and nothing else. So the white in Tommy's hair (THE PART THAT'S BRAIDED!!!) is from being revived.

But Techno doesn't have a braid in his hair, only Tommy. The Blade is a weapon, not something to be cherished and cared for and loved. Braids as a form of love, braid as a love language i will not take criticism because I'm so correct about this. The white in Tommy's hair being the part that's braided, also, that's surely something isn't it that's something that is SOMETHING.

Techno braiding the white part in Tommy's hair, it will still be in the corner of his eye but it will be wrapped in love. It will have bedrock dangling from it. The bedrock is on Tommy's braid because it is a symbol between the two of them, it's something gentle but strong held up by string and neither of them will let the string snap. They won't let is snap.

Techno's bedrock is on his sword - it's on his method of violence, the method of violence Tommy is CALLING ON!!! The violence Tommy is COUNTING ON the violence he is using to protect himself. The sword is made of marble (because it looks cool but ALSO--) Techno's violence is a PROMISE it is a swear an oath from a blood god who will not break it.

No matter what, Techno will be the blade he needs to be. He is as much of a weapon as the tool in his hand.

No matter what. He scars and bleed cold, before he even makes the first swing the sword is covered in gold it is dripping it is his

The words 'BLADE' is intertwined with his sword, the word is golden and blends into it

Mentioning this now, but the only colours in the drawing (if i don't count the effects i did that was just me having some fun with it and crashing my drawing app) is only two colours, red and gold. Tommy's bruises are a shade of magenta, the grey is a desaturated red, the whites are just a very light shade of red

It's something i thought a lot about while drawing so i did want to mention it in more detail than just the id

ALSO. Tommy is wearing Techno's crown, and Tommy is also pretty much in the position a crown would be on Techno's head (if you squint a bit)

He's also holding onto Techno's ear - I didn't draw it very well, but he is, he's using Techno for stability, pushing against him with his foot to stay upright. And Techno is something solid for Tommy to dig his nails into, he is solid and he can and will be stability.

Tommy is just another voice in techno's ear, screaming blood for the blood god

And Tommy's pupils are just pinpricks, he isn't in control and he isn't calm. He's bruised and bloody, he is clinging onto the first thing he sees and trusts that it wont topple over. Tommy trusts because that is the only thing he can do, the only thing he can ever do. He's angry he's clinging on with his nails and teeth and blood but he is trusting.

NOW IM GONNA TALK ABOUT COLOURS AND THE COLOURS I USED BECAUSE :D!!!

Techno has dark red colours - Very dark, dark as in the colour of a lot of blood. A river flowing with blood would be near black and that is what Techno is. He is an endless stream of bloodshed he is an endless steam of violence because that is all he is. That is all he is, in this moment, at least, but this moment is all that matters right now. Right now, he is the blood god and he is the blade. He's a sword about to be stained and constantly being sharpened because he needs to be.

He NEEDS to be blood and he's ALWAYS been blood and he doesn't ENJOY being blood, no, he walked away from everyone to avoid it but for tommy!! He'll be that for Tommy because Tommy NEEDS him to be (<- that paragraph is from Epic but it was very accurate)

BUt ALSO Techno has light colours too. Not as obvious as Tommy's light colours (his shirt, his shoes, his hair) but it is still THERE. It's just hidden. The white, not stained (protected) in the inside of his cape near to his heart. Because Techno's heart is gentle but he has to fight to keep it like that, the outside of his heart (heart=cape just go with it this is the metaphor I'm going with it doesn't make sense but also shhh sure it does) is DARK it is VIOLENT

Inside his heart (cape. again. silly metaphor but its fine) he is the Blade - the letters reveal themselves with his cape blowing in his wind

I dont know what any of these words mean but maybe they mean something idk :D

ONTO TOMMY'S COLOURS v

hehe okay sooo Tommy has lighter red. Still very clearly red, but the cape he has is an imitation of Techno and it isn't nearly as stained. His cape doesn't hide anything, it doesn't hide him, its short and also the lightest obviously-red colour there is in the drawing. On him is also the only actual depiction of red blood and fresh injuries. He is BRUISED his pants are ripped and at the edges there is still-fresh blood. He's wiped the blood off of him he tried. but all he did was spread it from his nose to his knuckles. He is not violent but this makes him look violent, and it wasn't on purpose. Dripping from his head is blood, again, and all of it is his. He has a fresh bruise around his eye and the only bandage to the dripping blood from his head is Techno's crown. That is the closest thing to care he has right now - later, he will get bandages, but to him care is a symbol of blood. To him, care is Technoblade's sword and he doesn't view the bedrock around his braid as gentle in anyway, he views it as a rock that is special and the string is weak but it wont break because Techno tied it there, and that means it won't break. It means it can't break.

On Tommy is Techno's crown. Because Techno views him as an equal and is letting Tommy command him in this battle, because this is Tommy's fight. This is Tommy's fight, and Techno gives him his crown with trust on his gold-scarred hands and care and a promise that he will be there and fighting by his side. He believes in him, not because he needs to but because he does. He holds him steady because he just does and he acts as a weapon because that is what he does.

Ight that's all :) If anyone reads this far they have my hand in marriage and whatnot, adding tags then hitting post without rereading <3

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vampireloverz · 1 year

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dancing with the devil

pairing: john wick x fem! reader

words: 2.5k

cw/tw: established relationship, age gap (vague but implied, more than a decade), size difference, reader wears a dress and heels, reader and john drink alcohol, public fingering, unprotected sex, au where reader basically takes helen's place, reader knows about john’s previous job, pre canon

You don’t know how you convinced John to go out dancing after dinner, maybe it was the bourbon that loosened him up, maybe it was the trail of kisses you left along his throat as you waited for a taxi. Either way, when the driver asked where to, John had said the name of some club nearby and you’d kissed him as a thank you.

Before long, you’re dancing to garish techno music, drink in hand. Bass rattling in your chest and your heartbeat in your throat as you sway and bob to the booming rhythm, all the while John keeps an eye on you from his seat at the bar. The neon lights strobing above occasionally illuminate him, drawing your focus to him past the throng of club goers every so often.

A few people come up and dance with you; a pretty woman with dark lipstick and a wicked smile, someone wearing a shimmery top you like so much you make the effort to all but scream over the music to ask where they got it, a man who offers you one of his glow-stick bracelets with such drunken enthusiasm you have to accept, laughing.

Eventually jumping in place and bobbing your head to the beat has sobered you up a little, but you’re still pleasantly warm and fuzzy around the edges, smiling as you head back to John. He reaches for you as you approach and you take his hand, squeezing it as a silent thank you for indulging you and waiting so patiently while you had your fun.

“Hello, handsome,” you lean in so close your lips brush his ear as you greet him, “Care to buy me a drink?”

You pull back in time to watch his lips tick up almost imperceptibly as he nods, signaling the bartender over and ordering your drink of choice. You kiss John’s cheek as a thank you and sit on the stool beside him, his heavy hand finding its place on your thigh, curving around you easily. The drink goes down smooth as you curl your free arm around his, suddenly giddy with happiness.

John turns your face to his with two fingers on the side of your chin, saying something you can’t quite hear but you can read his lips. You’re beautiful.

You let out a breathy little laugh that’s swallowed up by the music, heat rising to your cheeks as if it's the first time he’s ever complimented you. But you can’t help it, you cling to every carefully chosen word that falls from his lips.

“Thank you,” you don’t bother projecting, he knows, and he leans forward to kiss you.

The flavor of bourbon is still strong on his tongue but you don’t mind the sting. His hand on your waist reminds you of the same sensation earlier today. Both of you tangled in his expensive sheets, the sun hitting his face just right to light up his dark eyes into rich brown, his lips leaving kisses further and further down your body…

You break the kiss to press your cheek against his, “Wanna get out of here?”

John pulls back and gives you a look, almost amused, and you laugh as you watch the cogs turn in his mind. He takes a long, thoughtful sip of his drink, emptying the glass and setting it down along with enough bills to pay for your drinks and then some. A thrill of excitement runs through you as you hop down from the barstool and John takes your hand.

The crowd is dense but they seem to instinctively part for you two, a sea of drunken dancing split by nothing more than John Wick’s presence.

John rounds a corner out of nowhere right as you spot the exit, turning into somewhere quieter where the pounding bass turns into a pleasant thrum. You stumble into his back, disoriented by the sudden stop, but before you can question him, he spins, crowding you against the wall and kissing you. He kisses you with a surprising ferocity, a hot, hard press of lips with a small slip of tongue before he moves downward, kissing along the column of your neck as he palms your chest over your dress.

“John, what are you—?”

His hand is suddenly on your mouth, his palm to your lips as he orders, “Quiet,” as if anyone would hear.

Being cornered by John Wick sends a thrill down your spine, you suddenly feel high on adrenaline, and you know that this is only a minute fraction of what the people he dealt with at work feel. Felt.

It’s not often you’re reminded he was out killing scores of people when you’d barely started high school. It’s a callus on his palm from gripping a gun, it’s old scars from blades and bullets, it’s the tattoos. The knowledge of it all, his strength, his age, makes this feel dangerous. Despite his past, maybe even because of it, you trust him. He’s never turned his deadly hands to you beyond giving you pleasure.

You purse your lips to kiss his palm and his eyes soften just a touch, his hand pulling back to trace your mouth with his thumb. You kiss the pad of it, both your eyes locked as you part your lips, pink tongue barely peeking over your bottom lip.

John lets out a small laugh as he feeds his thumb into your mouth, gently pressing down to feel the grooves of your teeth, the soft give of your tongue, “Don’t be too loud,” he whispers as his other hand pushes up your dress.

You squirm when he cups your pussy, deft fingers tracing the line of your slit over the fabric before he slips his hand into your underwear. The warmth of his fingers as he slides them between your folds makes you gasp. John never takes long to find your clit, he’s always been impatient when it comes to your pleasure.

“You’re wet,” he comments, a little breathy and pleased.

“It's your fault,” you whine around his thumb.

Both of you make a pleased noise when he slides two fingers inside you, slow enough to have you squirming with impatience. John relents easily, pumping into you a few times to find his rhythm of slow, steady pulses before curling his fingers just the way you like it, the way you always beg for, you have to hold your breath to stop an indecent noise from flying out of your mouth.

The laughs of some people passing by suddenly makes you remember you’re not alone. In fact, the two of you are quite exposed if someone takes a turn into the half-hidden halfway John had slipped you into. You gasp and lift your head to look at him, ignoring the fact that you feel yourself tighten up. John maintains eye contact as the voices draw closer and you blink, alarmed and aroused all at once. He stops pumping his fingers and you watch him make a decision. His fingers stay inside you, curled against the sensitive spot there as he presses the heel of his palm into your clit, giving you a single nod as you grind down into him.

“Yea,” he grunts, “That’s it.”

He takes his finger out of your mouth to cradle your head and press closer to you, hiding and muffling you as best he can as you shudder and press your face into his collar, moaning into it and breathing in his spiced cologne. The voices pass, leaving you both in semi silence and false seclusion. Your knees buckle, adrenaline making it feel all the more intense when your orgasm slices through you, shuddering and panting open-mouthed with your lips pressed onto whatever expensive fabric his suit is made of.

He murmurs something you can’t quite catch over the ringing in your ears before he pulls out of your still throbbing pussy, circling your clit a few times with soaked fingers until you whine. The loss of his fingers makes you feel impossibly empty but watching him lick his fingers clean of you is a fair consolation. He lets out a small laugh at the expression on your face but you can tell he’s got it bad too. You’re half sure that if no one had walked by he would’ve fucked you here, or at least could’ve been persuaded to in the club’s bathroom.

“Let's go home,” John says, leaning down to kiss you. His dark hair falling around both your faces gives the illusion of privacy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

The look he gives you when you palm him over his pants makes you sure that you can get away with fooling around in the back of the cab ride back to your shared apartment. A new song starts in the club as the two of you leave and it feels like heavy bass pours onto the street, sticking in your chest until your cab is hailed and you both slip inside.

It’s late and traffic is to be expected, but you don’t mind because you can curl into John’s side and have your fun. He lets out a soft hum and drapes an arm around your waist, his hand around you tightening when you begin to loosen his tie. You play innocent at first, trailing your fingers along the column of his neck and down his chest, kissing his jaw when he shoots you a curious look. The cab jumps on an uneven patch of the road and your hand slips further down, past his belt until you’re palming him over his dark pants.

You press a kiss to his neck when he stiffens, his strong hand tightening around your waist. A warning but not a sign to stop. His free hand curls into a fist as you trace the outline of his cock, rubbing your palm back and forth until he groans, low and deep enough for a car horn somewhere outside to drown the sound out.

John leans into you and utters a single word into your hairline, “Behave.”

Firm but not angry, far from it. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face, but you obey and move your hand away, placing it onto a more appropriate position on your thigh until your ride is over.

John’s hand is a heavy comfort on the back of your neck as you walk into your building, at this hour you’re the only people in the lobby besides the doorman. The elevator ride up is mercifully quick and it feels like it only takes a blink for you and John to be stumbling into the bedroom, neither of you willing to break the kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching at his scalp when he slides his tongue along yours. He pulls away panting and presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing each other’s air. One of his hands follows the shape of your body upwards until he can touch your chest, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You let out a mix of a laugh and a moan as he pulls down the front of your dress, “I have some idea.”

John smiles against your lips as you kiss and he takes your tits in hand, holding the weight of them and squeezing gently. You sigh into his mouth when a callus scrapes your nipple, hardening it with each pass of his palm.

“John,” you moan, shifting in place as the throb in your clit becomes insistent.

He hums thoughtfully, “Turn around.”

You do without question, looking over your shoulder as he kneels behind you, his hands steady on your hips. When you feel his lips on the back of your knee, you jolt a little, his beard lightly scratching at the sensitive skin there, but you’re more prepared when he kisses your other leg. John follows the curves and lines of your legs with his hands first, kissing your skin every few inches and only stopping when he reaches the hem of your dress. When he stands and touches your shoulder blade you think he’s going to unzip you, but instead he pushes you forward onto the bed, bending you over as he bunches and pulls your dress up over your hips.

“John!” you gasp, a short laugh bursting from your lips.

“What?” he asks like he’s not peeling your underwear down until it drops around your ankles.

You make a noncommittal noise and wiggle your hips, the emptiness in your core beginning to become almost unbearable.

“You’re beautiful,” you can’t tell if it’s because of your heels, your dress bunched around your hips, or just the way your ass looks when you’re bent over— but you decide you don’t care when you feel his cock glide through your folds, gathering your slick and nudging your clit, “Fuck, look at you.”

“Please, John,” you plea softly, “Fuck me.”

That punches a groan out of him, you feel the head of his cock push inside as he takes your hand. He slides himself to the hilt inside you in one slick thrust and it knocks the wind from you both.

He sucks in a breath behind you and grips your hip with his free hand, his grasp firm as he starts to fuck you. John fucks into you deep and hard, rutting into you as pleasure washes over you both. You feel involuntary noises spilling from your mouth but you can’t think to stop yourself as you lose yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts.

“I love you,” he grunts, fingers tightening on your hip as he goes rigid, his cock kicking inside you.

You groan into the pillows when you feel the hot spill of cum fill you, twitching every time his hips roll forward and his cock knocks against something tender inside you. It feels like forever before he finally slides out. You both give twin groans at the feeling, but you’re placated by his kisses along your shoulders. You drop your weight onto the bed, ignoring the way John laughs under his breath, and mumble something in half hearted protest as he starts to unzip and slide your dress off you, unclasping your bra and slipping your heels off your feet before he lays in the space beside you.

“Let’s clean up,” he suggests, reaching for you as you shimmy closer to him.

“In a minute.”

Resting in the easy silence, John traces your hairline and you feel the mess between your legs spill onto your inner thighs, hot and sticky and satisfying. You sling your arm over him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with uncoordinated fingers so you can feel him. Your fingertips follow old scars until your eyelids droop and you rest your hand on him, the beat of his heart comfortingly steady beneath your palm.

“We should go out dancing more often,” you sleepily murmur.

John kisses the top of your head, “Whatever you want.”

#john wick x reader #john wick smut #📝 — john wick #💒.txt

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antimony-medusa · 2 months

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hiya medusa its been a while! im curious - as someone who has been watching phil for a while now, have you noticed anything specific thats changed with how he does rp/creates his characters? ive not had the chance to see much of his qsmp stuff, but i imagine having done various smps with various levels of rp/lore, there must have been changes to his approach

Okay so there have been two big changes from DSMP to QSMP that I've noticed. The first one is just that Phil is way more willing to do lore, and to tell his own story? In DSMP he was constantly deferring to whoever the writers were for the arc and never wanted to run over any of that, so he'd be really reluctant to join RP when it wasn't "official canon" and he'd be very careful not to overstep the bounds of the story other people had written. It was always lore being written by someone else— wilbur or techno or tommy or sam or dream— I think the syndicate end is the only one he actually fully wrote? On QSMP he's WAY more open with telling his own story. With the ender king possession arc that we just had, he just role-played for I think over two hours over two different streams, and that was a story he built collaboratively with the admins, but it was also one he clearly had a hand in himself. So I would say just the willingness to roleplay and tell a story is much increased. And he's using cinematics and special Minecraft skins and voice modulators— he's going for it!

The other change is uh, the gay roleplay and flirting. If you watch things like Hexxit Homies Phil definitely used to be more comfortable playing into the relationship rp, but on DSMP he was surrounded by minors or characters he was canonically related to or creators who didn't really go for flirting on-screen (techno). So all of that stopped. And then he went to QSMP and FitMC was there, and Charlie Slime, and Etoiles, and Missa, and boy. Phil flirts back/rps back now. And will say things like "stay away from my platonic husband!" and put his bed next to someone's, and pole dance on his husband, and tell FitMC he's stolen his heart, and talk about his cock with Etoiles, and much more. You can just tell that he has way less issue with the jokes and the implications now. Which honestly makes perfect sense, playing into gay rp with someone who can legally rent a car and who is clearly delightedly making jokes about it is not the the same as with a sixteen year old. To understate the situation slightly.

#leafcabbage #ask #philza

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wolfythewitch · 2 years

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Tell us about the AU!!! I'm so curious please tell us

OKAY SO

Idk how to word this it's still very disorganized in my head lmao this'll be a bit long

But essentially the story starts with Techno showing up at Phil's door, and young boy, his brother, hiding behind his knees. He's barely holding it together, fists clenched as if it can keep his magic from bursting, from hurting everyone around him. He begs Phil, the former royal wizard/sorcerer/idk, for help. To teach him. Phil, a tired hermit with a head full of unnaturally white hair and wrappings covering up his wrists to his elbows, says no. But he lets the stay the night, and he helps calm Techno down.

By the end of the week, they never leave, and Phil agrees to help him. He's always been too weak for his own good. ("I can never say no to you", he murmurs, and Techno knows it was not for his ears). So Phil helps guide Techno the best he can, to channel his magic like lightning in a bottle, like dew dripping down a leafstalk. He never uses his own magic. Techno sometimes tries to ask, but Phil only smiles and dodges the question. Tommy is left to wander on these days, and Phil had always told him that his bedroom was off limits, but seven year olds can be bored to the point of disobedience, and Tommy was no different. In his room, he finds an old, broken mirror, and a singular gem embedded into its handle. When he turns the mirror and the sunlight shifts, a face stares back at him, older and sharper, with wispy brown hair and the bluest eyes Tommy has ever seen. (Hello, the mirror murmurs, I'm Wilbur. Tommy almost drops it.)

Because the story really starts a decade prior, when Phil still lived within the palace walls, when he takes in an apprentice with magic too powerful to handle. Be it hubris or denial, Phil promises to help his apprentice, Wilbur, control his magic. In the end, he fails. In the end, his magic grows so strong and unstable, a lit bomb that threatens to level the kingdom, that he begs Phil to seal it away, and stop him. ("I can't say no to you.") But a sorcerer's magic is their soul, and by sealing it away, you seal them to the same fate. So Phil locks Wilbur's magic away into a hand mirror, the closest object available at the time. The strain of the spell puts him in a month-long sleep, takes away his magic, and bleaches his hair a snowy white. When he wakes up, he takes the mirror, and he steals away into the edges of the kingdom, where he lives alone. Lived alone. Because now he has company, he has Techno and Tommy, and he doesn't want to fail them again. But Tommy befriends the strange man in the mirror, (who hides away when Phil comes close) and so he visits more often. He'll take the mirror in his pudgy hands and ask Wilbur about his day, ask about what limbo was like, ask if he ever missed the sun. And Wilbur does, but not enough to want to break free.

One day, the gem in the mirror breaks. It's an accident. Tommy was talking again with his new friend when Phil bursts into his room, eyes wide with anger and fear. And Tommy loses hold of the mirror, and it falls to the ground, a muffled yell sounding from the reflection. And Wilbur is back.

And his magic returns to him like fire to gasoline. It's agony. He's seeing light after being in the dark for so long, and it's searing. For the first time in years, Phil uses his magic to keep himself and Tommy from burning up into ashes. Techno rushes in and finds Phil holding a terrified but unscathed Tommy in his arms, skin blistering with heat as his own magic burns him inside out. Wilbur is a screaming inferno of his own, magic pulsing in and out of him like a storm. Techno tells Phil to take Tommy and run, and he fights Wilbur, keeps him occupied until dusk turns to dawn, until Wilbur's magic dies down enough for the both of them to breathe. When Wilbur can finally speak, he mutters two words. "I'm sorry." And he runs away, a trail of scorched footprints at his heel.

Phil is a little worse for wear, half conscious in the garden with Tommy standing guard beside him, armed with a stick. They treat his burns and coaches the story out of him. No one knows what to do, not really. Techno can't fight him forever. Phil can't even use his magic without killing himself in the long run. It's Tommy who suggests it, to take part of Wilbur's magic and seal it away, or turn it into something.

It isn't that hard to find Wilbur, what with the glowing lights and the hurricane that surrounds him. What's hard was to get him to listen, the young man so very much in pain that it consumed him, his eyes alight with agony that glowed. (Help me, he breathes, please.) Tommy talks to him, calms him, tells him stories about his hometown and about the cow that he loved to ride on. Phil takes both of his hands, staunchly ignoring how his own hands start to burn and blister. He instructs Techno on what to do, tells Tommy to keep on talking, tells Wilbur to look at him, to breathe, to trust him. He uses himself like a channel, because while he can't really use his magic anymore, it doesn't stop him from being able to host another's. With Techno and Wilbur's magic flowing in him, like twin flames, he guides them from his fingers and they pour out like streams of light, like wisps of smoke, and slowly take shape, taking the form of a blue wooled sheep. (The bluest wool Tommy has ever seen.) It blinks awake, eyes sparkling with stardust, and nuzzles Wilbur's hand. And the winds come to a gentle rest, and Wilbur sags against Phil, his body too tired to do anything but fall limp. And Phil isn't really much better, limbs like lead by his waist. Tommy curls up beside him and Techno soon joins them. Wilbur runs a hand through the sheep's wool, soft like a cloud. "His name's Friend," Wilbur decides, eyes slipping shut, "after you lot."

Fambly :D

#wolfy tedtalks #anon #magic au #lightning in a bottle au

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