#THE SHEER EMOTION OF SILLINESS IN EACH OF THESE?!?!??!

[vipetas]

ii. the radio's revival

It was odd. Ever since that chance encounter with the Radio Demon, he’s been gracing your doorstep more often than you had expected. You were just doing your job, after all, fixing that radio of his. But he seemed to interpret that as an invitation rather than the transaction that it was.

Whether he was cursed with inexplicable bad luck or if it was simply a series of coincidences, you couldn't say for sure, at least not in the beginning. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, and Alastor kept coming back, each time with a new contraption for you to fix, you couldn't help but come to a conclusion.

He was breaking things on purpose.

The sinister Radio Demon, with his daunting reputation and predatory grin, was breaking things on purpose. All for the sake of visiting your humble little workshop in the slums.

You couldn't decide whether to feel flattered or victimized. Hell, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what drew him back to your workshop time and again. Yet, as the routine continued, you also couldn’t deny that Alastor didn’t seem as terrifying as you once believed him to be. Gradually, you became accustomed to his presence. In fact, you even found yourself looking forward to his visits, often preparing a cup of coffee for him as you worked while he observed.

Today was no different. As you diligently worked on repairing an antique pocket watch, your attention kept drifting to the window, where sinners of all shapes and sizes strolled along the bustling street. Your keen eyes searched for a splash of red amidst the passersby, and your ears strained for the familiar sound of the bell above your door. Yet, neither sight nor sound came.

And as you affixed the final gears of the pocket watch into place, Alastor had yet to make an appearance. You glanced at the untouched, now-cold coffee cup, and despite your efforts to suppress it, disappointment began to seep into your heart.

Alastor strode through the dimly lit corridors of the hotel, his thoughts consumed by a singular objective: to find something–anything–that he could lay his hands on.

He knew it was silly. Preposterous even. For him, of all people, to resort to such childish behavior! But there was a restlessness gnawing at him, an insatiable craving for something he couldn’t quite name.

Ever since his fingers grazed against yours in that fleeting moment of contact, Alastor found himself haunted by the memory. It was as if a dormant ember had been reignited within him, sparking a firestorm of conflicting and inexplicable emotions. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom why a simple touch had stirred such chaos within his usually composed heart.

And frankly, he didn’t really care to dwell on it. To acknowledge the depth of his confusion would be to admit weakness, a notion he found utterly intolerable. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand–like finding something to break, for instance.

Turning corner after corner, Alastor reached the hotel’s parlor, a space usually abuzz with activity. However, to his surprise, the room now seemed to be eerily deserted.

The armchairs sat empty, their plush cushions undisturbed by the weight of occupants. The grand piano stood silent in the corner, its keys untouched and gathering dust. Not even a whisper stirred the air, leaving the parlor feeling desolate and abandoned.

And then, he spotted it–the TV, perched precariously upon a nearby table. Alastor’s grin, stretched wide across his face, threatened to split his features in sheer delight. It was perfect–he had been itching for an opportunity to destroy that troublesome picture box, and this presented the ideal occasion.

Crossing the room with determination, Alastor's fingers curled around the edges of the TV, his excitement palpable as he prepared to deliver the final blow. But just as he lifted it off the table, a stern voice cut through the silence.

“Alastor!” Vaggie scolded. “How many times have I told you not to touch the TV?”

Alastor's grin remained firmly in place as he turned to face Vaggie, exchanging glances between her stern expression and the television in his grasp. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly loosened his hold on the television, letting it drop to the ground with a resounding crash.

The impact shattered the screen, creating a spider web of cracks that spread in all directions, while the plastic casing splintered open with a loud snap. Vaggie's jaw dropped in disbelief as she stared at the wreckage before her, her eyes widening in shock. Alastor's grin only stretched further.

“Oops,” he said, his tone laced with mock innocence. “My hand must have slipped.”

The commotion of the shattered TV drew Charlie into the parlor like a magnet, her expression a mix of shock and dismay as she took in the scene before her.

“What in the–Alastor, what's gotten into you?” she exclaimed as she approached, her footsteps quickening as her eyes darted between the broken TV and the Radio Demon standing nearby. “You can't keep breaking everything in the hotel!”

Without missing a beat, Alastor's expression morphed into one of exaggerated shock and wounded innocence. His hand flew to his chest, fingers splaying out dramatically as if to emphasize the depth of his offense.

“My dear Charlie,” he exclaimed. “Accusing me of such vandalism! Why, I would never dream of causing harm to anything in our esteemed hotel!”

Charlie raised an incredulous eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his theatrics. “Really? Because I distinctly remember you destroying the coffee machine just last week.”

A flicker of annoyance flashed across Alastor's face, quickly masked by his trademark grin. “Ah, well, accidents happen, my dear. Surely you can't hold that against me.”

Before Charlie could respond, Vaggie interjected with a pointed look. “And what about the toaster the week before that?”

“The toaster?” Alastor echoed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he cast a sidelong glance at Vaggie’s direction. “Oh, that old thing was on its last legs anyways. I was merely putting it out of its misery!”

Charlie's sigh reverberated through the parlor, laden with frustration. Anyone within earshot could discern that even the seemingly infinite well of patience belonging to the Princess was beginning to run dry.

“Alastor,” she started, drawing a deep breath and folding her hands in front of her. “I know you mean well, but we can't have you breaking things every time you get bored.”

Alastor’s facade remained intact as he listened to Charlie’s lecture, although the subtle twitch of his ear betrayed the irritation that simmered beneath the surface. He had expected this reaction, of course; it was all too predictable. But that didn't make it any less tiresome.

“Oh, come now,” he responded as casually as he could. “You know me better than that. I'll have that pesky picture box fixed in a jiffy!”

“It's not just about fixing the TV, Alastor. We have enough trouble keeping this place together without you destroying hotel property whenever you feel like it.”

Suppressing an urge to roll his eyes at Charlie's admonishment, Alastor finally conceded, even as his pride bristled at the implication of recklessness. “Yes, yes, you’re right,” he said aloofly. “I’ll get this taken care of right away. You and Vaggie needn’t worry yourselves.”

With that, he gracefully knelt down beside the broken TV, his movements deliberate as he made a show of collecting the wreckage. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of amusement at the melodramatic nature of it all. It was almost comical how worked up everyone got over something as silly as a broken appliance. After all, what harm was a mere television set in the grand scheme of things?

Especially when its destruction served as a small price to pay for the chance to see the mechanic again.

Cradling the TV in his hands, Alastor straightened up and began to walk away, purposefully moving past Charlie and Vaggie before they could launch into any further lectures. Despite the disapproving glances he left in his wake, Alastor felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him–he had finally obtained his excuse.

“...and remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me!”

The words slipped past your lips like a well-rehearsed speech as you bid farewell to the now-proud owner of the repaired pocket watch. Standing with your hands on your hips, you watched them depart, a swell of pride filling your heart as their delighted reaction replayed in your mind. It was always rewarding to see the joy on your customers' faces when you successfully restored something precious to them.

As they left, you turned your attention to the windows, where the dwindling daylight seeped through. It was getting late, you realized with a sigh. 

With a sense of reluctance, you made your way toward the door. It was time to close up shop for the day, despite the lingering desire to stay open a little longer. As your hand reached for the lock, preparing to secure the entrance, a sudden commotion startled you.

The door swung open with such force that a rush of wind swept into the workshop, catching you off guard. Before you could react, you found yourself tumbling backward, landing unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the–” You began, lifting your gaze to confront the incredibly rude visitor. But your words caught in your throat as your eyes landed on Alastor, standing there framed in your doorway with a strained grin and a shattered TV gripped tightly in his hands.

“Alastor, what’s–” You started again, but in the next breath, Alastor suddenly dropped the TV, letting it fall to the floor with a careless thud. 

In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you, rushing to your side with an urgency that left you dazed. “Goodness gracious, darling, are you alright?” He asked, eagerly extending a hand to assist you.

You felt a peculiar flutter in your chest as his gloved fingers gently enveloped yours, guiding you back to your feet. Despite the unexpected tumble, his touch was surprisingly tender, and you couldn’t help but be aware of the warmth that spread through your hand where it met his.

“It seems like you really need to work on your landing technique, my dear,” he then remarked amusedly. Yet beneath the jest, you detected a subtle tremor in his voice, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that he hadn’t released your hand yet.

As you looked up at him with furrowed brows, Alastor knew he should let go. He should, it was the rational thing to do, the expected response in this situation.

But his hand–it was on fire! Compared to the initial spark of electricity, whilst significant in its own right, this new sensation was simply overwhelming, threatening to unravel each delicate thread that wound the Radio Demon together.

Terrifying yet exhilarating, Alastor realized the immense power that such a simple gesture held over him. If he had known that such a dramatic entrance would grant him the privilege of holding your hand like this, he would've acted sooner. He would've found any excuse, any reason, to break down your door and claim your hand as his own long ago.

And at the same time, another thought crept into his mind, igniting a different kind of excitement altogether. He couldn't help but wonder about the myriad of other sensations your touch might elicit—sensations that surpassed mere hand-holding.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you stood there, the air crackling with tension. To say that you were confused would be an understatement. Alastor’s incessant visits, today’s sudden intrusion, the broken TV, his firm yet gentle hold–it was more than baffling.

Unable to bear the heaviness of it all, you dared to give his hand a light squeeze. “Uh, Alastor?” You ventured tentatively, offering him an easy smile. “You can let go now, you know.”

His response came almost immediately, but it wasn't what you had expected. “I know,” he said nonchalantly, tightening his grip instead of releasing it.

The smile faltered slightly on your lips as your confusion deepened. “Then… will you?”

“I don’t think so, my dear.”

“Why not?” You asked, the words escaping your lips before your thoughts could catch up.

Alastor's grip tightened again, his crimson gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Because,” he began, his voice low and velvety. “I rather enjoy holding your hand.”

The simplicity of his answer caught you off guard. It was as if he were stating the most obvious fact in the world, with no need for further explanation. As you cast your gaze downward at your intertwined fingers, and then at the broken TV, lying in pieces by your door–that’s when the puzzle suddenly clicked into place.

“Oh…”

“Hmm?” Alastor hummed, his tone laced with genuine curiosity and a hint of amusement. As he waited for you to reply, he couldn't resist the temptation to let his thumb glide ever so gently against the back of your hand. The touch was feather-light, almost imperceptible, yet it sent a tingling sensation through your skin.

It drew your attention back to him, your unsure gaze meeting his intense one. For a moment, it seemed as if Alastor was extending a silent invitation for you to delve deeper, to peel back the layers of your interactions, to speak the words that hovered on the tip of your tongue.

And with a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts. 

“I... I was just thinking,” you began, your voice steadier than you felt. “Do you... have feelings for me, Alastor?”

The question hung between you, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. You weren't sure what to expect, but you were desperate for some clarity. 

“Feelings?” Alastor echoed after a pause, his demeanor carefully neutral as he attempted to evade the question. “Why, my dear, I have all sorts of feelings for you! Admiration, appreciation, curiosity–”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his evasive answer, a sudden surge of frustration bubbling within you. “Alastor,” you interrupted, cutting through his attempt at deflection. “I'm not talking about admiration or appreciation. I'm talking about... romantic feelings.”

The ever-present grin on the Radio Demon’s face faltered visibly, his ears flattening against his head. It was clear he was uncomfortable–how could he not be? The very notion of romance, of allowing oneself to be vulnerable to another, disgusted him to his core. Alastor prided himself on his independence, his autonomy, and the idea of relinquishing even a fraction of that control was utterly repulsive.

But more than that, it was the sheer audacity of the question that left him reeling. How dare you suggest such a thing? Yet, as much as he wanted to dismiss you outright, a nagging voice at the back of his mind reminded him of his own hypocrisy. After all, he couldn't deny the frequency of his visits to your workshop, the way his heart quickened at the mere thought of seeing you, or the inexplicable desire to hold your hand just a moment longer.

But romantic feelings? Perish the thought! Love was a weakness, a sentiment reserved for fools, and it had no place in his world.

Alastor finally let out a forced laugh, attempting to brush off the seriousness of the conversation. “Now, now, my dear, let’s not get ahead of ourselves!” He said in between chuckles, each one more strained than the last. “I’m simply not one for such sentimental nonsense!”

Your frustration surged even further at his dismissive response, the sound of his laughter grating on your already frayed nerves. Holding up his hand, which still enveloped yours, you pressed on, determination burning in your eyes.

“Then what are we doing here?” You asked pointedly. Alastor’s gaze flickered down to your intertwined hands, his expression momentarily unreadable. But then, as if flicking a switch, he reverted to his nonchalant demeanor.

“We’re simply enjoying each other’s company, of course!” he replied enthusiastically, his thumb brushing against your hand again almost instinctively. “No need to overcomplicate things, hm?”

With a deep breath, you realized that you had reached your limit with Alastor. The frustration simmering within you had finally boiled over, and you had no interest in playing this game of his any longer.

Without a word, you tore your hand away from his grasp, a sharp movement that caused Alastor to visibly flinch. But you ignored his reaction as you focused on gathering the forgotten television set, its sharp edges digging into your skin as you collected the wreckage.

Straightening up, you returned to Alastor's side, purposefully avoiding any further contact with him as you extended the damaged device toward him. Your gaze was steady, unwavering, as you delivered your ultimatum.

“I'm closed, Alastor,” you declared firmly. “Come back when you're ready to be honest.”

part i / part ii

thank you for reading!! and thank you to everyone who left such nice comments on my last posts. i was very surprised<3

there will definitely be a third part to this story. also, @christinebloodwrittings requested to be tagged<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor

[shadowdaddies]

hi I love youre azriel fics they're so sweet and sweet az I feel is never talked enough about just the very comforting side of him I think we don't see enough of could you maybe write a fic where his mate is absolutely terrified of sex and breaks down even from hearing someone say sex and is just genuinely so scared of sex (because she has a similar past to rhys) so gradually azriel I'd helping her feel more comfortable with physical touch and the idea of sex and slowly gets more intimate starting with just fingering her and making sure she's OK whilst stroking her hair with his other hand maybe she panics at bit at first but he comforts her during it and she let's him eat her out his shadows swirling round her stroking her hair and her body comfortingly whilst he's eating her and gives her alot of sweet aftercare

thank you so much for this💜 I think Azriel's soft, compassionate side is too overlooked and what I love about his character most is his thoughtfulness and understanding towards others

Where We Begin

Azriel x Reader smut

WARNINGS: references to past SA/abuse, smut below the cut

The setting sun cast an orange hue over the horizon, night quickly taking reign from the day. Azriel’s hand was gentle against your own, fingers lightly entwined with each others’ as you strolled slowly along the bank of the Sidra. 

A deep sense of contentment glowed in your chest, settling within you much like the sun over the shining waters to your side. A silly smile graced your lips, sheer joy encompassing the moment as you looked into hazel eyes.

Your heart leapt in your chest at the feeling of his gaze on you, the soft openness Azriel bared to one else stripping you bare in the moment kind, intimate of ways. “I love you,” you whispered, the words more instinct than thought as you realized how deeply this male consumed you.

Shadows danced around you in response, a broad grin stretching across Az’s face as his hand found your cheek. “I love you, too,” he spoke, voice rough as he choked on emotions he’d never allowed himself to feel so deeply before this moment.

Eyes flicked to your lips, Azriel leaning in subconsciously as he awaited your permission. Always aware and careful of the boundaries you’d set, he had never made a move without your leading him. A small giggle escaped you as you pushed up on your toes, pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

Lips melded together, then teeth and tongues clashed as passion expressed itself in ways that words could not. Drawing back with faltered breath, the spark in your chest burst into a flame, engulfing the both of you in a warm light that binded you. Your mate.

“Azriel, I want you,” you whispered, eyes wide as your teeth worked your bottom lip. “All of you.”

Tears welled behind his eyes, glowing golden against the last rays of sunlight that cast over the purpled sky behind him. Azriel’s own breaths drew shallow, feet shifting in rare uncertainty. “Are you sure?” The words were hardly more than a breath, curling in the air between you.

“Sure of you? Always. I love you, Azriel, and there is no one I trust more with my life and my love more than you,” you promised, the sureness of your response enough to soothe his nerves.

“Then let’s go home, my love,” he smiled, wings flaring wider as he swept you into his arms and launched into the now-darkened sky. The night streets of Velaris shone below as cool wind whipped around you, Azriel’s body emanating warmth that you curled into before landing on the balcony of your home.

You flashed him a mischievous grin as your hand wound around the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently with you as you walked backwards into your bedroom. Warm faelight cast a cozy glow over the space, heat seeping back into your bones as Azriel kicked the door shut behind him.

Hand sliding down his toned chest, you tugged at the hem of Azriel’s shirt, a small chuckle breaking from his lips as he pulled away the fabric. Heat flushed in your core at the sight of him, golden brown skin illuminated by the moonlight behind you. 

Eyes sparkled as he smirked at the scent of your arousal, scarred hands finding your waist. “Will you lay down for me?” Azriel whispered, his voice a soft caress that melted your nerves. Excitement coursed through you, nodding eagerly before you slid back onto the mattress, Azriel crawling over you as strong arms caged around your head.

“Is this alright?” he murmured, hand sliding under your dress, grazing your thigh as lips teased the skin of your neck. 

You breathed a “yes,” nodding enthusiastically, hips lifting as you arched to be closer to your mate. A low groan of approval sounded in his chest, Azriel’s knee kicking your legs open as he pinned one of your knees to the mattress.

Breath hitched in your throat, a flush creeping over you as your body stiffened underneath him in a reflex. Shadows stilled, Azriel pulling back completely. 

Hazel eyes studied you intensely, scanning for any sign of harm as his guilt filled the room. “Hey,” you whispered, reaching to stroke his sharp jawline, “it’s okay. I am okay.”

Despite your encouraging words, Azriel’s face crumpled as his hands left your body entirely. “No, I am so sorry. I should have been more careful, and I-“

Hand sliding down his cheek, your thumb found his lips to cut off Azriel’s spiraling thoughts. “I am not fragile, Az. I will tell you if I am uncomfortable,” you assured him, head raising to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

Azriel sighed, relief evident as he relaxed above you. “What if you show me what you want?”

Brows dipped in a questioning look, your lips ticked up at the corners. “What do you mean, love?”

Azriel crawled off your body, reaching a hand to guide you forward on the bed. Shifting forward, you watched your mate climb behind you, legs wrapping around your hips as he pulled you to lay back against his bare chest. 

Az’s hands appeared on each side of you, palms up as he held them out. “I want you to guide my hands to touch you,” he purred, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. Heat rushed to your core, slick building between your thighs at the scent of his arousal.

Relaxing back into his body, you grasped Azriel’s wrists, pressing a kiss to each scarred palm before guiding them to the hem of your dress. “I want this off,” you whispered, shimming your hips to help as Az lifted the fabric from your body, leaving you in only your panties before him.

A low groan escaped him at the sight, hands tensing on either side of you as he anxiously awaited your next direction. A lazy smirk settled across your face, hands intertwining with his as you teased his fingertips up your thighs, hips instinctively rolling back into his. 

A small gasp left your lips as you skirted around your core, guiding him to hold your breasts. “Please, Azriel,” you murmured, pushing his hands in encouragement. Lips found your neck, lightly licking, teeth grazing the skin there as he toyed with your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples. 

Head lolled back against his shoulder, one of your hands guiding his down your stomach towards your core. “Touch me, Azriel,” you purred, the sound turning into a breathy moan as his fingers slid beneath your underwear to your folds. Arousal shone on his fingers, a grunt leaving your mate’s lips before he pressed a finger to your clit.

You could feel his gaze on you, watching your reaction to his hands working magic on your body, playing you like a violin. “More,” the plea left your lips as a breath, Azriel needing no more direction as a finger dipped inside of you, curling against your walls as shadows danced across your stomach and legs.

Pushing in a second finger, Azriel groaned at the obscene noises from your pussy as a shadow grazed your clit, the stimulation sending you over the edge into orgasm. Arching off the bed, your hands clawed at Azriel beneath you as his name left you, a lewd moan echoing through the home.

You came down from your high, turning to see Azriel already smiling down at you, pure male satisfaction on his face as he pulled his fingers from your core, licking your release clean while he kept eye contact. 

“More,” you whispered, hardly registering your own words, your body thrumming with need for your mate. Azriel’s eyes darkened, hands and shadows stilling as he gazed down at you.

“How do you want me?” he choked out, breaths coming heavy, cock twitching at your backside.

“I want all of you,” you replied, voice breathy as you ground your hips against his. “I want to ride you.”

A heavy sigh blew from Az’s mouth, his body tensing beneath you. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, hands moving to clutch the sheets beneath him. “Take me, then, please. All of me and more.”

Pushing up from the mattress, you instantly missed the warmth of your mate as you clawed at your underwear and Azriel’s, desperate to be bare with one another. You gasped at the sight of him, this glorious, strong male beneath you, practically begging for your touch.

“I am yours, and you are mine,” you whispered, hair falling in a curtain around you, breasts brushing his toned chest as you dipped to kiss your mate.

“Always,” Azriel promised, the bargain mark a pleasant burn on your chests you settled over his length. You knew that your eyes shone with emotion to match his own, the moment more tender than anything you had felt in your lifetime.

Sinking down onto his full length, lips parted in a silent moan at the stretch inside of you. “So tight,” he grunted, abs flexed beneath you while Azriel fought to keep from thrusting up into you.

You couldn’t resist the sly smile that brightened your features at his desire, rolling your hips in a teasing motion against him. Sounds of pleasure echoed from both of you at the feeling, your hands finding purchase on your mate’s chest as you slowly lifted up before sliding back down.

He hit perfectly deep inside of you, pure pleasure rolling through like a shockwave with each bounce. “My chest, Az,” you pleaded, clenching at this feeling when his hands found your breasts, gently massaging and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Shadows flicked softly against your legs, hips, neck, slithering down to your core. “Fuck, I’m close,” you breathed, crumpling at the full feeling of Azriel coupled with tendrils of darkness against your clit. “Please, fuck me,” you breathed, grateful for the reprieve when Azriel’s hands moved to your hips.

He thrust into you at a steady but powerful pace, his massive length hitting deep inside of you with every thrust upwards. Your body collapsed against his, hand tapping on your mate’s shoulder to let him know you were close.

“Let it go, darling. I’m right behind you,” he murmured, a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath your ear sending you over the edge once more, convulsing at the overstimulation while Azriel grunted, his own release filling you with warmth. 

You fell completely into his chest, settling down on Az’s large frame as scarred hands slid up your waist, holding you close while he pressed kisses around your face and neck. “How are you, love?” he whispered, voice like rough silk as he swept the hair from your temple.

“The best I’ve ever been, Azriel.” Joy flooded the bond, so full you couldn’t tell from whom the feeling came. “I love you, so much.”

“Saying ‘I love you, too’ doesn’t feel like enough to describe how I feel about you, but that’s all I can manage for now,” he answered softly, the black waves of his hair tickling your cheek. 

He held you so close, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And you settled into that feeling, sure that that was how you wanted the rest of your life to be.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #acotar reader fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #acotar azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader fluff #azriel acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel smut #acotar azriel x reader #acotar reader imagine #acotar fluff #acotar x reader smut #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | viii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” you mumble, sniffling as you swallow yet another surge of tears. It’s all you’ve done in the last hour, weep your eyes out as Chad holds you against him.

“It’s not your fault, bean,” he reassures you, rubbing your shoulder and arm comfortingly. 

Similar words are uttered by Mindy and Anika on the other side of you. It’s what you’ve heard all night since it happened, that nothing is your fault. 

That you’re not the reason Tyler is hovering between life and death on a cold hospital bed, the machines hooked to his body being the only thing keeping him alive. 

You find that hard to believe. He made it clear it was all for your sake, taunted and berated you with that fact before hurting Tyler. 

The people who ferried him away on a gurney claimed it was a miracle he was still breathing when he was found considering the amount of blood he lost after the killer stabbed him over and over.

Like it was personal.

You know that it was. All of it is your fault.

And you can tell from the frosty glares his other teammates toss your way from their side of the waiting room that they likely feel the same. 

As nobody outside of family is allowed inside Tyler’s room, his friends are left to languish in the horrifying wait of whatever news may come. 

Your chest is tight as if it may burst any second. What started as a wonderful night spiraled into a nightmare, once again. 

And once again, you’re at the center of it all. The common denominator. The trouble magnet. 

You’d puke if your stomach weren’t so empty from sticking to Alana’s draconian pre-game diet.

“I feel like it is. If I didn’t date him…”  Your words falter as you choke on a sob. 

Chad’s forehead wrinkles in concern. “If you didn’t date him, what?”

You pull the Letterman jacket he wrapped around you earlier closer to your body. It’s pointless. The chilling sensation will not depart from your veins.

“I…I don’t know.”

He dips his head before heaving out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you as much lately.”

Your lips tug in a doleful smile.

“It’s okay,” you affirm, shrugging. “You’ve got the team, and I was busy too, with cheerleading and everything else.”

“Still, I should have made the time. You’re important to me.”

Your chest swells with emotion as you consider him. His big brown eyes lock onto you, studying your shaking form. You find yourself wishing you could unburden your heart of every worry and fear weighing it down, just like before.

But you can’t.

Things have changed.

When you were younger, you never withheld anything from him. Chad was privy to every haphazard thought roaming in your head, however silly or insignificant. 

Now your lips are sealed by the sheer terror of what would befall your best friend if you confided in him or let him get too close for his liking.

“It’s okay.”

His large hand massages your back. “It’s not okay,” he mutters, “I don’t want you getting hurt again, so call me if you need anything. Promise?”

You mull over his request, heart pinching. Lying to Chad feels wrong, but you don’t want him to end like Tyler or…Connor.

“I promise,” you chime, exaggerating the cheerfulness in your tone.

“You’re part of the Core Five now. We have to look out for each other.”

Mindy scoffs and shakes her head at that. “You can’t just give us a name, dingus.”

“Well I just did, dingus,” Chad retaliates.

You let your mind drift, the twins’ antics fading amidst your gloom. Anika keeps stealing worried glances your way and you cloak yourself in a disguise made of false, reassuring smiles.

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

Inside, you are screaming.

Relief flutters through when a doctor finally makes an appearance. Your friends gather around you as you all rise from your seats. While Mindy holds one of your hands, Chad clutches the other.

Everyone turns to the man, a glint of hope etched in every gaze. 

But this light quickly dims when he announces the dire news.

Tyler’s been in a coma since his return from surgery. No one knows for sure when he’ll wake up.

The world collapses around you. As your legs buckle beneath you, Chad and Mindy’s arms are the only thing keeping you upright.

“Can we see him?” one of the players, Jeff, inquires eagerly.

The doctor nods. “Sure, his friends can come and see him.” As you step forward, the man impedes your path with a gentle hand on your arm, an apology creeping on his features. “Not you.”

Shock bolts through you. The breath is snatched from your lungs as you gape at the man.

“Why not?” Mindy asks.

She glowers at the doctor who cowers slightly under her accusing stare. He clears his throat and fumbles with his pen and notepad.

“You are that girl who used to date Connor Richards, that kid who was also...attacked, aren’t you?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Chad asks, his irate expression mirroring his sister’s.

“The parents insisted-”

A dry laugh bursts from Mindy’s throat. “Are you serious? She barely knew him before he got stabbed.”

The doctor sighs, rubbing the weathered lines of his face.

“Either way, the parents do not want her anywhere near the patient,” he says, his inflection firmer than before. “They were quite adamant about it.”

“Probably ‘cause she’s cursed," Jeff whispers under his breath. 

Tears pool in your eyes. While you're starting to think that yourself, hearing it uttered aloud packs a different kind of gut punch. 

Mindy steps in front of you, invading Jeff's space with a wild look on her face. 

“You want to say that again?”

"I don't fight little girls," he sneers derisively. 

Before Mindy can lunge herself at him, both Anika and Chad hold her back. 

“Mindy, don’t," Anika says, squeezing her girlfriend's shoulder. 

Chad’s nostrils flare as his gaze cuts into Jeff’s.

"I think you might want to watch your mouth before I shove my fist in it,” he warns.

A sliver of dread flickers on his face and he raises his palms defensively.

"Hey, it's all good, man. I was just joking around. You know how it is."

“No, I don’t,” Chad replies, the muscles of his jaw ticking.

As the tension grows, your fingers skim over his bicep.

“It’s fine, guys. I’m just gonna head home. I’m super tired anyway.”

All the ire on his face melts away as he turns to you. You shudder at the nasty look Jeff casts your way as he and the other players walk away.

“No way you’re staying alone tonight,” Chad says, wiping an errant tear from your cheek. “We should stay together, have a sleepover like when we were kids.”

The shadow of a smile curves your lips.

“Sounds nice but I think I’d rather be alone.”

“But you hate being alone.”

His remark has you nibbling your bottom lip anxiously as you lower your head. He’s not wrong, of course, but the idea of being around other people sets you on edge at the moment.

You fiddle with your hands.

“Right now, there’s nothing I want more.”

“Let me drive you back home at least,” he insists.

You look before you. Each of your friends wears the same concerned expression.

You can’t summon any excuse, so you surrender with a weary exhale.

“Okay. You can…drive me home I guess.”

“Chad, I think you missed a turn-” you say, brows knitting as his car takes the path opposite to campus.

Undeterred, he keeps driving smoothly.

“There's no way I'm letting you be by yourself tonight.”

You open your mouth to argue and even whirl to Mindy who responds with a shrug. Your focus settles on Chad again. His features are taut with determination. You slump in your seat, defeated. There’s no changing his mind when he’s like this. Arguing would be for naught.

Much like his sister, he can be incredibly stubborn.

Forehead against the window, you let the familiar purr of Chad’s car ensconce you in cocoon of peace. It’s a rare comfort, one you’ve missed as of late so you let yourself relish the moment.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

His blunt inquiry plucks a startled gasp from you.

“No,” you reply quickly. Maybe too quickly. His brows collide, forming a deep frown.

Soft brown eyes peel away from the road to rest on you instead.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He pauses, adding with emphasis, “If you’re in trouble, for example.”

Your heart bounces in your chest but you school your features as best as you can.

“I’m not in trouble,” you shakily respond.

He studies you long enough for your breath to grow scattered. Eventually, a chuckle spills from his lips, though it’s bereft of mirth.

“You’ve always been the worst liar, you know?”

No retort comes so you swaddle yourself in silence again. 

Spending the night at the Meeks-Martin household feels just like old times, when things were simple and you weren’t so paranoid.

Chad lets you borrow one of his shirts to sleep in and Mindy makes you a warm drink before everyone heads to bed. 

Chad insists to lay a futon near Mindy’s bed to watch over you and you’re entirely too drained to argue with him again. 

As soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re out for the count, the day’s fatigue claiming its rights.

For once, you’re relaxed.

But it doesn’t last.

The flimsy blanket of tranquility is ripped from you when your phone buzzes in the dead of night. 

Whining drowsily, you stir between the sheets. Mindy groans as you reach across from her to collect it from the night table.

The glow of your phone screen sears into your retinas, making you squint in the darkness.

Lazily, you open the notification that flashes across your screen. 

When you do, you’re hurled into wakefulness. 

Hey, princess. Nice night for a midnight stroll, don’t you think?

A wobbly whimper leaves your lips as you read the taunting message and the photo accompanying it. Even in the dusky light of the picture, the distinctive outline of the Meeks-Martin house in unmistakable.

He’s here.

Close enough to harm the friends soundly sleeping next to you.

Dread twists your gut, a chill seeping into your very bones. You jump to your feet. 

You don’t pay attention to your surroundings as you rush to grab your things as quietly as you can.

Heart pounding a deafening uproar in your ears, you tiptoe outside of Mindy’s room. Hectic fingers already swipe through your touchscreen to call a car to pick you up and take you back to your dorm.

Despite your hushed trek to the front door, a familiar voice hails you on your way out.

“Where are you going?”

Your shoulders sag as you pivot to Chad. He rubs his eyes and frowns as his gaze falls on the bag tucked under your arm.

“I’m calling an Uber. I need to go home.”

His frown accentuates. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“And I didn’t even want to be here…You tricked me!”

Hurt flashes across his face at your accusation and you instantly regret your words.

“I didn’t…” He trails off, approaching you as sadness glimmers in his warm, brown orbs. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I wasn’t around and you got hurt.”

“Hurt?” you snort, feeling a new wave of tears building behind your eyes. “I’m not the one lying in a hospital bed, remember?”

“Still…”

He reaches out for you and you slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!”

Chad’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. His tone softens as he asks, “What’s wrong with you, bean?” 

When you turn away, he lifts your chin and cradles your face.

“Hey, you can talk to me. It’s me.” His thumbs brush away the tears you didn’t even realize had began pouring again. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

You swallow a lungful of painful air. Your fingers wrap around Chad’s wrists to pry his hands away from your face.

“What I need is space, Chad.”

Shock paralyzes him, his eyes widening. 

The car you ordered skids to a halt outside and you dart across the night to catch your ride.

Tears blur your vision as you plop into the backseat.

Quiet sobs shake your frame, a sea of salty anguish flowing down your cheeks.

You don’t know how you deluded yourself into thinking anywhere could be safe from him, that he’d let you breathe even a little.

There is no more air, no shelter, no haven…no place that will shield you from him.

Nowhere is safe. And you’re alone. Completely.

~

#ethan landry x reader #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #ethan landry x you #bimbo!reader

[comradekatara]

Ok we should talk more about sokka and aang because these two dumbasses are adorable together! Underrated relationship

The gag with Katara and blind Toph in season 3 is still the funniest scene in the series lol

yeah their friendship very cute. i like how when they're left to their own devices their respective adhd tendencies combine, that feels very true to my relationships with my friends who also have adhd lol. it's also just really adorable how through aang's sheer lovability, sokka learns to loosen up a little and appreciate life (somewhat, sometimes) in a more relaxed, content way. aang is a really good and highly valuable influence on everyone around him, especially as he counteracts the logic of war and its necessity for violence, which is an ideology sokka not only heavily subscribes to, but to which he attaches his very personhood. aang reminds sokka that he is still a child (he reminds katara of this too, but it happens in the literal pilot, whereas sokka's journey to literally enjoying himself ever is far more gradual and grueling). aang reminds sokka that he is human.

that said, i do think that people tend to be reductive when talking about the value of their relationship. not to single you out specifically, but i do kind of take umbrage with the notion (perhaps unintentional) that all their dynamic is good for is being adorable and funny. calling them "dumbasses" because they can be silly and goofy sometimes, or scatterbrained and absent-minded. i genuinely think that aang and sokka constitute one of the most interesting foils in the entire show. normally when we talk about character foils, we talk about characters who are positioned in opposition to each other, but aang and sokka are fascinating because they're allies (and friends) who nonetheless approach the same problem with the same intentions and the same goals but from completely different angles.

in many ways, sokka is aang's most distinct opposite. but first, to address their similarities: they're both victims of a genocidal imperialist project that has burdened them with a responsibility to their people that they are too young and barely equipped to handle; they are both expected to shoulder this burden easily by those around them due to their nature as "gifted" child prodigies with distinctly unique skillset and an unprecedented ability to absorb and apply new information that they learn at a genuinely abnormal rate (remember that aang is not just the avatar, but an incredibly prodigious avatar at that; he mastered all four elements within less than a year by the age of twelve, whereas most avatars take at least another four years to master their elements); they are both the "leaders" of their small guerrilla militia of child soldiers, and they take turns giving each other guidance and trusting and following the other's lead; they both consider katara the central figure in their lives and love her with an almost obsessive devotion; they both repress their grief and other unpalatable emotions through humor and constant distraction, and sometimes even depersonalize entirely when they feel that their goal is more important than retaining their humanity (sokka does this more frequently, but when aang does it, it's more blatant); and of course, they both harbor massive guilt complexes for the devastating tragedies (largely beyond their control) that have shaped their lives, and are constantly replaying those moments of "failure" as that of acute shame to motivate themselves as they strive to rectify and "atone" for their past errors.

so, as you can see, reducing their friendship to "adorable dumbasses" is already not very interesting. to me, the best aang and sokka scenes aren't the ones wherein they are playing and goofing around together. those scenes are sweet and charming, of course, but the best aang and sokka scenes are the ones wherein sokka is positioned as the logical consequence of aang's grief. wherein present-day sokka becomes the worst case scenario for a hypothetical future aang. in many ways, their friendship is incredibly bittersweet, because it is also punctuated by moments wherein sokka threatens aang's entire value system and quote-unquote "innocence" through attempting to mold him into a Man Of War the way he does those hapless toddlers in his village. for all that sokka is remarkably open-minded and receptive to new ideas, he cannot see past the limits of the world he was born into and the mechanisms and assumptions of violence he was forced to internalize and embody. aang is, of course, totally unique in his ability to not only envision a world beyond the war (i would argue that katara has the ability to do this as well), but also to have actually experienced it. and so it is truly a testament to aang's resilience that he is almost entirely impervious to sokka's ruthless, militaristic logic, even as sokka constantly attempts to enforce it.

i have a much longer post in my drafts about how aang and sokka are positioned in "the serpent's pass" (one of their best episodes in terms of their dynamic, also just a highly underrated episode in general), so i'm not gonna get too much into it here, but katara's relationship to aang as paralleled with suki's relationship to sokka is really fascinating in this episode for the ways in which it also positions katara's grief over witnessing aang's attempt to detach himself from his grief to focus on his goals and aang slipping into "sokkahood," and the absolutely devastating implications of what that must mean for katara. i think there's a strong case, in general, for the reading of katara attempting to replace her lost childhood (with sokka) through aang as he represents a vehicle for her overly idealized nostalgia (much like how zuko projects onto aang and views him as a vehicle to return to that site of his overly idealized childhood), and thus, quite literally, replacing sokka with aang. to katara, aang possesses what sokka has since lost, or perhaps something he never got the chance to have in the first place. and that isn't to say that katara views aang as a brother, but rather that katara longs for companionship in any form, and what is aang if not the ideal companion? so aang's grief and rage scares her not only because it pains her to see someone she loves so deeply in so much pain, but also because it reflects her own pain back at her, as someone who has lost so much, including family members (also including kanna and hakoda) who are, ostensibly (at least physically), still alive.

one of the most fascinating scenes between sokka and aang in the entire show is when sokka straight up attacks aang for burning katara in "the deserter." katara is very clearly affected by this beyond simply the physical pain; being burned by the weapon that killed her mother is explicitly triggering for her, and she retreats into herself and sobs like a child (she is a child, but you know what i mean. an even younger child). and sokka in turn is triggered by katara being triggered, because his entire existence revolves around his oath to protect her, and she was just hurt by the one person to whom she stakes all her hope and pride and joy and affection above all. aang obviously understands the gravity of this accident immediately; it of course wasn't intentional, but he nonetheless takes full accountability and apologizes sincerely. but sokka only calms down somewhat once he knows for certain that katara is okay. and instead of going to find katara as she sobs, he spends all his focus on yelling at aang, throwing him to the ground, more furious than we have ever seen him. and in a way, it's clear that he's also furious at himself, for having let his guard down around and trusted aang, and for his failure to perform his primary duty, protecting his sister. the fulcrum of aang and sokka's relationship is, necessarily, katara. she is the force that brings them together, and the person who is most important to either of them, but she also person who connects them in her mind, and so our perceptions of them as the audience are primarily informed by her perception of them as the narrator.

moreover, sokka's advocacy for killing zuko (in "the siege of the north") and ozai (in "sozin's comet") constitute two more fascinating scenes with aang, for the way in which sokka does not even find the act of killing something to flinch at, let alone an absolute betrayal of core principles and values the way aang does. killing is simply not something sokka feels guilty about, despite the fact that he seems to carry guilt over simply existing a lot of the time. and that juxtaposition, between aang and sokka playing together, of sokka learning how to have fun and entertain his little friend, versus sokka chastising aang for refusing to commit murder, is what makes their relationship so compelling. when people reduce their dynamic to its most comedic and innocent mode, they are reducing their roles as they embody two opposing relationships to violence, and how that reflects their ideological positions as someone who has subscribed to imperialist logic insofar as his values have been shaped by war, as opposed to someone who knows through his own experiences to refute that logic by any means necessary. when we talk about aang helping sokka to regain his humanity, it is crucial to understand specifically how sokka lost his humanity in the first place, but also why aang specifically is so crucial in counterbalancing his logic in a way no one else alive actually can.

ultimately, if sokka represents the voluntary auto-dehumanization of the colonized subject, then aang represents the potential of preservation and even reclamation of humanity and the imaginative potential of a world[view] beyond those colonial limits. their ideological conflict is not simply one of what it means to be human within a colonized paradigm, but what it means to exist at all.

#lilith-91 #asks #aang&sokka #analysis #aang #sokka #katara #under a readmore again bc i ended up writing a bajillion paragraphs (again) #also sorry for getting kind of existential with it #again obligatory disclaimer that i recognize that this is a nickelodeon y-7 cartoon #that said. i do think aang and sokka are really deep characters. like truly #and i want to honor that properly #(when i finish that serpents pass essay its over for u hoes...) #anyway. i love them so much. they are so much more than adorable dumbasses. #although yeah they are that too

[dragonanon]

Death!Reader and God!Brother head cannons

Note: you can thank @sherlockhomies-42 for this, my brain hasn’t known peace since I read their stuff about the reader being Death in Hazbin Hotel. And if I don’t get my thoughts out right now I might honestly combust. 🙃

Lore HCs:

- Before Hell, Earth, and even Heaven existed, there was nothing….Until by some cosmic miracle, God popped into existence. God started by building himself a luxurious paradise; the same paradise that would eventually become Heaven.

- God relished in his wonderful new home for a while, but quickly grew bored with being alone. So he began creating animals and other small creatures to keep him company. At first, this worked out great! But to an ageless, immortal being like God, several years felt like mere moments to him; and before he knew it, his beloved creations had become incredibly old and were in ever increasing pain and discomfort as they continued to age, and there was nothing God could do about it. All he could do was create life, and once life had been created God was powerless to do anything to stop it or take it away.

- Just when it seemed God would be forced to watch his creations suffer forever, another incredible miracle happened; you popped into existence. Sporting six mighty black wings and a set of horns gracing your head, you gently touched each of the suffering creatures, and with your touch each one FINALLY had their suffering come to an end as they died, and their now freed souls traveled down to a newly created realm to rest and wait for whatever came next; Limbo.

- God watched in awe as you gave his beloved friends what he couldn’t; an ending. God realized quickly, based on an instinctual pull he felt towards you, that whatever force had created him had clearly struck again, and brought you into existence.

- God was now in the presence of a being just as powerful as him, but while you may have been his equal in terms of how you both came to be and the sheer power you both held, your powers were VERY different from his; almost like they were the opposite of his. That’s when it dawns on him, you’re his sibling! His counterpart! If his powers are to begin and yours are to end, then you’re meant to bring balance to everything! After all, there can never be a beginning if there’s no end, and there can never be an end if there is no beginning.

- It’s then that you’re given your name; “Death”, and as both the younger sister of God and the only one capable of bringing an end to any life he creates, your very existence leads to you both creating balance in the universe for the very first time.

- As the first order of business, God started creating ageless beings, like the Seraphim and other Angelic beings. And with your input, he gave them the gift of sentience so they could all think, feel emotions, and communicate with each other and you and your older brother, and the ability to create just like him.

- At some point though, God started getting more lazy and careless, given he didn’t have to do much now that he’d created ageless beings capable of thinking and creating things themselves. He suddenly had more free time than he knew what to do with, and it culminated in him pretty much just sitting back in his fancy palace, and allowing allowing his children do as they pleased while he casually observed from time to time from the sidelines. (Dude basically just became super depressed because now he essentially had nothing to do, and felt like he no longer served any purpose in existing. He hasn’t told you or anyone about these feelings tho, just drinks himself silly everyday and vibes in his palace.)

- This annoyed you GREATLY as you now had to essentially step up and provide guidance to the Seraphim and other Angelic beings when they needed it, because your brother couldn’t even be bothered to do that. You started to resent God for his “hands off” approach to running things, while God began to resent you for being “nagging and controlling”.

- The resentment eventually boiled over when Lucifer and Lilith inadvertently created Hell, and the other Seraphim and Angelic beings banished them both into the realm they’d created. Outraged by what God’s lack of involvement had caused, you got into a nasty fight with him as you pleaded with him to intervene and FINALLY put an end to the chaos he’d allowed to run rampant for centuries. God vehemently refused, insisting that the Seraphim and Angelic beings knew what they were doing and didn’t need his input. Furthermore, God believed that the punishment was justified given it was their actions that caused evil to invade the Earth.

- You were getting NO WHERE in this argument, so for the sake of your own sanity, you returned to Limbo to continue your work of bringing death to those who needed it. Along with the new task of taking dead souls back to Limbo, where they would stay until you determined whether to send them to Heaven or Hell based on how the soul had behaved while alive.

- That’s how it went for centuries before you decided you needed a little break, and informed Heaven and Hell that you would be taking a well deserved nap. This would mean that they would need to work together to sort souls in the meantime, as your reapers would ensure that death still continued appropriately on Earth while you sleep. Heaven and Hell agreed to this, and with that you curled up in bed and went to sleep.

- Speaking of reapers, reapers are permanent residents in Limbo. They are neither Angels nor Demons, but they’re ageless all the same. God actually made the first reapers for you, so they’re essentially the Limbo equivalent of Seraphim and other Heaven born angelic beings. These reapers, often called “First Ones”, have sentience and emotions since they were created by God himself. So you typically have First Ones lead the other reapers.

- All the reapers you’ve obtained since the First Ones are Limbo’s equivalent of Sinners, often called “Hollows”. Hollows are souls who in order to avoid eternal suffering in Hell, instead opted to willingly relinquish their humanity entirely and become an undead being working for you. In giving up their humanity however, the souls lose their ability to feel anything whatsoever. They’re little more than robots; doing what they’re told and not questioning it, all while feeling absolutely nothing. They’re called “Hollows” because that’s essentially what they are, hollowed out husks that now only exist to serve you.

- Regardless of whether they’re a First One or Hollow though, they all have the same job; find the humans whom you’ve given death to, reap their souls from their bodies, and guide them down to Limbo and care for them until you’ve sorted them into Heaven or Hell. The only real difference is the First Ones are usually in charge of the Hollows, ensuring that the Hollows reap the correct souls and are doing their jobs.

- If you had only known what your absence would cause, you would’ve NEVER went to sleep. For as SOON as you were out, Heaven took it upon themselves to decide where the souls went, completely defying your orders that Heaven and Hell work TOGETHER to decide that. To add insult to injury, Heaven also became incredibly elitist and picky about who got into Heaven, and this resulted in a vast majority of souls being sent to Hell for even the smallest infractions. The unbalanced approach of sorting souls eventually caused the over population problem and subsequent annual exterminations.

- With Heaven’s incredible arrogance and Hell’s complicity in this, both realms are in for a VERY rude awakening when you eventually wake up prematurely and see what they all have done. You’re gonna read Sera, Lilith, Lucifer, Adam, Lute, AND God the riot act for fucking your shit up

Okay lore time over, here’s the silly, more generalized, shit you’ve all been waiting for!

- When making the Seraphim, God made them in your image. He really just wanted to show his love and appreciation for you in some way, and he decided the best way to that was by basing the physical appearances of his first sentient creations on you. Hence why all the Seraphim are beautiful and have six wings like you do. It was literally like a kid excitedly making a piece of macaroni art of their sibling and being super excited to show it off to them

- All of the beings directly created by God are considered his “children”, so they all refer to him as “father”. Given that you’re God’s younger sister though, it also technically makes them your “nieces/nephews/niblings” and it makes you their “aunt”. You get called “Aunt Death” or “Auntie Death” by them a lot, but you’re cool with it because you think it’s cute.

- You weren’t supposed to have any favorites, but you always did have a soft spot for Lucifer in particular. He reminded you a lot of how God used to be back when you’d first come into existence; so energetic and excited to create things. You affectionately called him your “favorite nephew”.

- You haven’t seen God since the fight you had with him after Lucifer’s banishment into Hell. You actually miss your older brother dearly, but you’re still so pissed at him that you don’t feel like talking to him for the foreseeable future. You temporarily go back on this decision long enough to chew God out for allowing his children to make a complete mess of your realm, and destroying the balance you worked so hard to create and maintain. You’re back to giving him the silent treatment after that.

- Limbo is ONLY accessible by you, Cerberus, dead souls, and your reapers. No one else is capable of entering Limbo, hence why everyone assumed that the exterminations were successful in getting rid of excess Sinners. In reality however, all the “killed” Sinners were really just getting yeeted back into Limbo for re-sorting since something that’s already dead can’t die again.

- The persistent wailing and cries of the millions and millions of souls who were now trapped in Limbo was eventually what managed to wake you up early from your nap. You were not pleased in the slightest.

- Despite having a very gothic and menacing appearance, you’re incredibly gentle and kind. You feel great honor in being the one tasked with giving everyone the ending they need and deserve, and you take pride in caring for the souls that may have to stay in Limbo for an extended period of time whilst you decide where they will go next.

- You take no satisfaction in having a send ANYONE to Hell. It doesn’t feel good to know that you’re condemning someone to an eternity of suffering, no matter how deserving of that punishment they may be. Hence why it can sometimes take awhile for you to decide where a soul goes, because you want to be sure you’re really making the right decision.

- You’re saddened by how much like your brother Lucifer has become after his banishment, and you wholeheartedly believe that the ONLY reason he hasn’t completely turned into his father is that he has Charlie to think of.

- You and God are both fucking MASSIVE in your true forms. Like, “skyscrapers BARELY reach your hips”, massive. You’re both capable of shrinking down to be able to better interact with people, but even at your smallest you STILL tower over most Sinners.

- You’re low key salty that Lucifer went and had a baby while you were sleeping, because you missed out on getting to play the role of “doting great aunt” while Charlie was growing up. You’re trying really hard to make up for the lost time by visiting frequently. Much to the minor annoyance of a certain radio demon who doesn’t like the feeling of being in the presence of someone FAR more powerful than him. He deals with it and is polite tho because it’s FAR better to have someone as powerful as you be an acquaintance than an enemy.

- You can walk the streets of Hell with complete impunity because everyone either knows EXACTLY who you are and goes out of their way to stay in your good graces, or they end up finding out real fucking quick that you are NOT to be messed with.

- That being said, your presence is generally more accepted in Hell than it is in Heaven. In Hell, you’re far more likely to be willingly approached and have a nice conversation with a Demon. Whereas in Heaven, everyone is scared shitless of you except for Emily and actively tries to avoid even making eye contact with you. It’s like pulling teeth just trying to get someone to tell you what time it is. Of course you can ask anyone in Heaven anything and they’ll respond because they’re too afraid not to lol. But they’ll look like they’re on the verge of fainting then entire time you’re talking to them.

- The aversion to you in Heaven gets better over time as you’re seen having friendly interactions with Emily, but most Angels still get a bit uneasy in your presence. Sera is one of them because she knows that you’re BEYOND pissed at her and she’s one more fuck up away from getting dragged to Limbo and being made into one of your reapers to serve you AND the souls she hurt.

- Much like sending souls to Hell, you get no satisfaction in turning someone into a Hollow. Completely stripping someone of their emotions and sentience is not an enjoyable experience, even if it does result in you getting more help in Limbo. Despite this, you’re still required to make this offer to all souls set to be sent to Hell. You do your best to explain though what the consequences of this decision are though, and thankfully most souls see what becoming a Hollow entails and opt to keep their humanity. However every now and then you’ll get few who insist that becoming a Hollow will be a better fate, so you end up with new reapers.

- Vox is BIG MAD that his biggest rival is now rubbing elbows with the LITERAL Goddess of death. Dumbass had no clue who you even were at first so he didn’t care, but as soon as found out you were Death, the ensuing meltdown he had knocked the power out for the whole Pride ring. Alastor is aware of how pissed Vox is about this, so he purposely goes out of his way to play up his interactions with you when he knows Vox is watching. He can practically hear Vox’s apoplectic screeching when he does it, and it brings him immense joy every time.

- You’re often accompanied by Cerberus; a massive, three headed, doglike beast. God made him for you as a gift AGES ago to be a bodyguard and companion for you. Not that you ever NEED a bodyguard, but the thought was appreciated all the same. You ADORE Cerberus, he is the goodest good boy that ever did a good in your book. Cerberus loves you just as much and loves to give you kisses and cuddles.

- Lucifer was dog sitting Cerberus for you while you slept. Cerberus was a little shit during this time because he missed you, so he would often purposely ignore any commands Lucifer gave him. Charlie loved him though and he was actually great with her, so Lucifer put up with it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #death! reader #reader is death #death! reader head cannons #god these were fun to write #Lucifer trying to appeal to your generosity and mercy when you first storm into hell like: #‘Hello aunt Death! Wow you look great! Did you did you do something different with your hair? gosh it’s so good to see you!’ #meanwhile internally he’s like: oh god oh fuck please don’t kill me please don’t kill me pleasedon’tkillmepleasedon’tkillmepleasedo- #you end up snorting and shrinking down from your true form to give him a hug and remark that he’s VERY lucky he’s your favorite nephew

[aziraphales-library]

Hi wonderful librarians! Thanks for providing this service. I'm hoping to hear a few of your favourite non-AU fics in which the author is delightfully creative with how they have Aziraphale and/or Crowley use their supernatural powers. E.g. guess who by attheborder where they settle a bet by temporarily wiping their memories and trying to figure out who's who. Thanks!

Hello! Here are some fics in which miracles are used in fun, silly, and dramatic ways...

Heavenly Dues by IneffableDoll (G)

Months after Armageddon, Heaven still receives receipts detailing Aziraphale’s daily miracle usage. Michael makes the mistake of checking them one idle day. OR Aziraphale reheats a lot of tea and admires his demon, scandalizing an archangel in the process.

Five's the Charm by EA_Lakambini (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley challenge each other to not perform more than five miracles in a day. (They’re both also competitive, and may or may not be above sabotage.)

Five Miracles Aziraphale Performed Accidentally and One that was Entirely Intentional by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0 (T)

Only inexperienced angels will become so overwhelmed with emotions that they accidentally perform a miracle. Doing so is laughable. Aziraphale would never! Except that he has... five times now. Each and every time when he was around the demon Crowley. Why on God's green Earth would a demon make an angel feel so strongly that he would perform accidental miracles? CW: discussion of car accidents, a nightmare with the use of holy water on Crowley by Crowley, description of a panic attack. It'll be very clear when it's coming in the story though, so if you want to skip it you can! Mind the tags :)

Barking Up the Wrong Tree by inflappible (G)

Crowley loses a bet with Adam and gets turned into a dachshund for a week as punishment. Aziraphale has to deal with the consequences.

A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street by akfedeau (M)

After stopping the apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale finally take the next step in their six-thousand-year friendship. But when a spate of miracles sweeps across Soho and Mayfair, they realize their amorous escapades may have an unintended side effect. As they scramble to restore balance and an archangel arrives to investigate, Heaven and Hell’s messengers learn that you can never have too much of a good thing.

One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey (T)

Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere. Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory... Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible... Eventually these two will communicate, even if it takes 'til the end of the year. For now there will be cuddling, excuses for closeness, sappy words, flashbacks, nostalgia, bickering, and an obscene variety of holiday foods. Oh, and footnotes. That's right. We're doing those too.

And the one you mentioned...

guess who by attheborder (T)

“Ha!” exclaimed A. “We’re married!” He grabbed C.’s hand and held it up, pointing at the gold band around his ring finger. C. stared at the ring, and then at A., a delighted grin appearing on his face. “Oh— that’s brilliant!”

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #miracles #mod d

[kopivie]

okay so i’m obsessed with your hades wrio so i have to know,, does he compromise? like in the original myth of hades & persephone he decides to let her back into the over world 6 months out of the year,, does he use something akin to the pomegranate seeds? id love to hear your thoughts lol

i'm so happy you like it! thank you so much for reading my silly little rambles, heh ♡ but i've been giving this a lot of thought because as of right now, i'm not 100% sure on what would act as the pomegranate seeds in this au. this is gonna be a bit of a brainstorm post, so bear with me:

it's evident that wriothesley loves and adores you enough to want to monopolize you, but he also knows that if he keeps you here for too long, you may grow to truly hate him. he can't have that, so he lets you go.

to some, the pomegranate seeds in persephone's myth symbolizes the indissolubility of marriage. i'm not quite sure if our hades!wriothesley would make you ingest something quite like that, but i do think he would give you a small mechanical device developed by the best mechanics and engineers in fontaine. this device would act as a timer that would go off on the fall solstice each year, which would signify that it was time for you to return "home".

hades would be gentle about it. he knows that you're suffering without organic plants and the initial love (or infatuation) you felt for him was dwindling by the day, so he pulls you aside one evening to propose the idea. he will send you back to the surface on the spring equinox. wriothesley will watch your expression change several times, but he will continue:

you deserve to thrive in the warmth of the sun. you need the long days and short nights that spring and summer provide. you deserve to be happy.... but there's a catch. the world in the fall and winter is no different from the fortress of meropide year-round; you will return to the fortress on the fall solstice to stay warm and cared for with wriothesley, who will ensure your happiness.

i think out of sheer desperation, you agree to his terms. if i were to circle back to the whole pomegranate seed thing, i don't think that would be necessary. like maybe it's just the prolonged time away from wriothesley that allows for your emotions to settle; the dust clears, the anger fades, and you're left feeling... hollow. you feel lonely in your bed at night. in the warmer months, you feel like the euphoria you feel is best shared with a companion -- with a loved one. what would wriothesley think about picnics with you on a grassy hilltop? would he go swimming with you? surely he'd ask you for flower crowns for sigewinne, right?

the time you spend away from wriothesley are freeing, yet simultaneously agonizing. you miss him.

so when the timer goes off on the fall solstice, you're actually eager to return to wriothesley's side. he's taken aback by your change in demeanor around him when you come back to the fortress -- you're shy around him, you get flustered so easily, and he can feel your lingering gaze from a mile away. but it's certainly not an unwelcome change. it's like a fresh start, where the two of you can now blossom into each other without the threat of resentment looming overhead.

i'm kinda giddy just thinking about the previously overconfident wriothesley being reduced to a smitten lover once more when you come back and actually return his feelings.. it's so cute! he wasn't expecting you to warm up to him during your time away, but now that you aren't giving him the cold shoulder or appearing visibly reluctant to accept his kindness, he doesn't really know what to do.

#[ 📬 — inbox. ] #hades!wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #heavy sigh... #he's so cute #but also so intimidating

[factsilike]

Controversial maybe, but I don't understand why people give so much preference and love to JC and WWX's non existent "brotherly" relationship (their relationship was more akin to a sect leader and his subordinate, or a master and his servant. Jiang Cheng certainly thought of him as so, however different he may have claimed him to be). JC in the novel not once called WWX his brother, and I don't think he ever said a word that wasn't harsh or critical to him either.

Why not show some more love to the actual loving and healthy sibling relationships in mdzs? Where both siblings loved and supported each other? There are plenty and they are so underrated!

Wen Qing and Wen Ning. (I don't think I need to elaborate on how sweet and cute their relationship is. Wen Qing being all stern and strict one moment and then all doting and fussy over her younger brother. Wen Ning being all meek and mild in nature and in awe of his big sister, and he's obedient and looks up to her so much. I'll never forget the impact the first Qiongqi path massacre had on me when Wen Qing, exhausted, starving and terrified for Wen Ning, faints upon learning the sheer tragedy that happened to her brother, and WWX had him seek bloody, brutal revenge on his own behalf.)

Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. (Probably the most healthy sibling relationship in mdzs, imo. They're supportive of each other and quite close from a young age. Lan Xichen being one of the only few people who could read Lan Wangji and his emotions, awwww. His understandable rage at thinking WWX was playing with his brother's feelings led to an angry outburst that was quite unlike his usually mild, gentle temperament.)

Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian. (This one is adorable and sweet and so heartwarming! Jiang Yanli is the only other person besides LWJ WWX lets himself be silly and goofy with, because he knows she'll fondly indulge him and laugh with him! The way she firmly stands up for him and declares him as her brother in front of the Jin sect! The way she has stated all her life, by her everyday acts of service towards WWX, that he's her family!)

Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang. (Theirs was a bit of a complicated relationship but they still loved each other, and Nie Huaisang all but abandoned his morals in his quiet quest to avenge his brother's death.)

I'm not hating on people who love JC and WWX's relationship and write reconciliation fic after fic, or saying that they're wrong to do so. I'm just tired of seeing so many people portray their relationship this way as if it's canon, when JC and WWX in the novel have severed ties and don't want to be in each other's lives anymore, when the character development JC goes throughout the novel ends with him finally learning to leave well enough alone and let WWX live his life in peace with the one he loves, when there are actual sibling relationships that this fandom is sleeping on, when Jiang Cheng is canonically homophobic and will certainly never hold a wedding for WWX or anyone in Lotus Pier.

#mdzs #Lan Wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #canon jiang cheng #jiang yanli #Lan Xichen #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #Wen Qing #Wen Ning #Jiang Cheng #the untamed #cql #jc stans please be more aware of his canon issues please #and don't come at me please

[lixiesfreckless]

Forgive Me | k. sm.

➸ synopsis: the truth was that you cared about each other in all the ways you really weren’t allowed to.

➸ starring: kim seungmin x female reader

➸ word count: 1.2k

➸ general content: butler!seungmin, duchess!reader, forbidden love, I guess this is a royal au lmao

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: another old fic but MAN as much as I claim to scream and cry for royal aus, I hardly ever write them smh

♫ perilous path- yu-peng chen, hoyo-mix(basically from the genshin impact soundtrack)

“Must you follow me into restricted areas as well?”

You folded your arms and rested your weight against the bookshelves, scowling at Mister Seungmin, who appeared to be looking for you at the end of the book-lined aisle. He tilted his head, assuming an amused expression as he took in your appearance.

“Pardon?”

“If there is one place a butler is not supposed to be, it is the library.”

“With all due respect your grace, I know you can come up with a better excuse than that to not want to see me.”

“Well-” you suddenly ran out of words, caught off guard by the slight curl of his rose tinted lips. There it was again, that despicable feeling bubbling up in your torso as you looked at his handsome face under the candlelit corner. “What is it that you want then?”

There was a flicker of something strange in his eyes for a moment, then he blinked and it was gone, taking out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and removing his glasses.

“The queen is requesting your presence in the ladies’ lounge,” he said, watching you empty your armload of books back onto the shelf. “I presume it is concerning the Suitor’s dinner happening this evening.”

A flash of anger shot through you, jealous of the one in front of you that doesn’t have a name to uphold as he put his round frames back on his nose bridge. His face took on a worried expression once he saw the distressed look in your eyes, so he took a hesitant step closer, treading on paper-thin ice.

“Your grace…are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright,” you snapped back at him, and although a pang of guilt rocked your head from being so harsh towards who may be the only person you care about, you let your emotions get the best of you. “Why do you care anyways?”

“Why do I care?” He stepped closer, an emotion you knew well as hurt flooding his irises as he scanned your face.

It was a silly question from both of you, considering how painfully obvious the answer was.

The stares that lingered longer than they were allowed to, the peculiar circumstances you accidentally found yourselves in, the fact that you were both in the most silent corner of the library, aware that there would be no one around for hours if you did happen to run into each other…

The truth was that you cared about each other in all the ways you really weren’t allowed to.

“Your grace…” he closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts, and maybe his sanity as well, “...as a butler you know it is my job to-”

“Very well,” you sighed, moving past the taller man and ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest. “I will be off to the-”

You didn’t see the way he silently regretted his words, or how he internally hoped you would forgive him for his next action. All you registered was the feeling of his trembling fingers circling your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

The sheer insanity of the gesture seemed to still the air in the library, keeping both you and Seungmin frozen in place as the near-silent sound of a grandfather clock ticking was heard in the distance. Your skin could have burst into flames at that very moment; you couldn’t bear to look anywhere but the forest green carpet as Seungmin stared at where you were connected to him, as if that would make him pull you closer.

But he knows better than to put you both at risk.

The moment you feel him loosen his grip on your wrist, your last drop of restraint evaporates from your skin and you turn back to face him, locking your gaze on his. Which ironically, lets the leash snap on his end as well.

“Forgive me,” was the last thing you heard him say before pulling your wrist towards him, causing you to stumble right into him, but not before he caught you with his lips.

Only a brief moment was spared for a sharp intake of air before he crashed his lips onto yours, the gasp being silenced quickly in his desires as you reached to grip his shoulder. His hand found your waist to keep you steady, but only until you regained your balance; he pulled away far too quickly for you to say that the encounter ever happened, and you finally caught your breath again.

With wide eyes you both stared at each other, unsure of what to say or do as your labored breathing filled the aisle, much like the sound of your heart rattling your rib cage filled your eardrums.

So many emotions swam in his brown irises. Not that you could identify any of them, for there were millions more drowning in your own, you were sure.

“Your…your grace,” Seungmin’s voice quivered, just above a whisper. “My deepest apo-”

“Do you regret it?”

“I- I beg your pardon?” His eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly as you pulled away from his embrace, silken hands trembling as you tried to regain your composure.

“Do you regret stealing my heart…despite knowing that you cannot have it,” you whispered, clutching the jewels at your neckline. 

“Your gr-”

“Drop…drop the formalities,” you pleaded, voice shaking now too, “you know it has never been that way between us.”

Seeing the forbidden truth in your eyes made him retract whatever he was about to say with a labored sigh.

“Y/n.” The shivers up your spine return. “As much as it should not happen, I could never regret loving you.”

“Seungmin don’t say that,” you cried out, tears spilling out from the corners of your eyes, “if you truly loved me you would have never returned my affections from the start.”

Seungmin watched in agony as you quickly swiped the tears away, only to have more fall out from under your eyelashes.

“Do you know what it is like to wake up every day, knowing that you cannot be with the one person you wish to-”

“Yes I know exactly,” he breathed, quickly closing the distance and holding you against the bookshelf so he could catch your lips in his again. This time you fell apart, melting in his grasp as his lips glided against yours, and your cares seemed to fade like the smoke leaving the candles lining the corridor.

“I am sorry,” he whispered as he moved to kiss away your tears, holding you so close to him as you gasped from the feather light touches on your cheeks. Hearing him say that only made you pull him in for another kiss, for Seungmin could have given you a thousand apologies, but not one would pull you out from how deeply you had fallen for him.

You knew he was trained to be especially careful with you, but the gentleness that he kissed you with…it was something you had only read of in books in your teen years, something you knew came about as rarely as diamonds did. To you, he was more rare and desirable than any gemstone on the market, and yet…

Your family could not pay the price for him, to lose their eldest daughter to a lower rank for something as useless as love, in their eyes.

“Seungmin,” you choked, biting back tears. “I…” 

“I know,” he whispered, kissing your trembling lips once more before letting go of you. “I know.”

And with that, you tore yourself away, away from the library, away from what you wanted most, and saddest of all, away from the man you loved.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #skz #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #kim seungmin #seungmin #seungmin fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids seungmin

[reblogthiscrapkay]

So I just finished rewatching Succession (immediately after watching it for the first time) and it really is a show that demands multiple viewings. What struck me most this time around was that in your first viewing of the show, you're kind of set up to view Kendall as the default main character and the most likely "winner" but when you divorce yourself from that idea, you notice a lot more.

Because Roman snuck up on me as my favorite character during my first viewing, I wasn't really following his story as closely so the second time, I found myself following it a lot more and, bias aside, if any of the kids were to "win" in the end, it should have been him (although I absolutely wouldn't change the ending; I think it was perfect).

This is most clear to me in the final episode. Everyone talks about the scene where Kendall hugs Roman so aggressively that his stitches reopen and it's a great scene but what happens before it is really powerful too. When Kendall first sits in Logan's chair you see this very subtle discomfort on Shiv and Roman's faces like, "Oh no. What have we done?" but it's not enough for you to necessarily think they are going to betray him.

Then after Shiv leaves, Roman sees Gerri in the hallway and kind of breaks down. He says he doesn't want to go into the meeting and this eventually turns into, "It could have been me." It's a reminder that throughout all of season three and half of season two, Roman was actually the one doing the best work at the company. Why? Because he had an actual ally in Gerri. Kendall had his experience and sheer determination and Shiv had a false promise from Logan but Roman had actual, tangible support from someone with power. He and Gerri spend a bunch of time raising each other up and it actually works. She believed he could win. He believed she could get him there and if it wasn't going to be him, he wanted it to be her. But his messy feelings for Gerri is also the reason everything fell apart for him. Being reminded of what he could have accomplished got into his head.

Even his assertion at the end that everything is bullshit and they're all bullshit (echoed from the first episode) also kind of shows why he would do well at the job. Kendall believes he's entitled to it and is constantly shooting himself in the foot. Shiv lacks the experience and is incapable of loyalty. But Roman always knows deep down that it's all a silly game. He wants to win, sure, but he's able to bend to whatever needs to happen without letting it personally affect him. His emotions that he denies having are about individual people, not business. The fact that he has a genuine capacity for love means Logan views him as weak but it's that separation of emotions that makes him stronger than Kendall or Shiv who are constantly letting their feelings affect their business decisions. The one time Roman slips up on this, the dick pic, it takes him down completely, but that's so minor compared to all the times Kendall lets his feelings control him. Honestly if Logan hadn't been so horrified by it (and let's be real he seemed more horrified by the fact that Gerri is "old" than that his son is sending dick pics to employees) and Shiv hadn't been so determined to use it against her brother, it could have been nothing.

Of course, the "it's bullshit" attitude is also why Roman will be fine. Kendall and Shiv are in hell, and Roman is just chilling with a martini: kind of sad for what was lost, kind of nostalgic as martinis are Gerri's drink, but he'll be able to move on far better than his siblings.

#just had to spit out some thoughts #succession #roman roy

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

i think you're onto something with the romance novels world and plot points needing to mirror the kind of outlandishness of the love story. bc the main characters are already inherently acting absurd just by falling madly in love in a month or whatever and then if you add in the contrivances of romance tropes, it starts to feel like whiplash trying to pretend the characters live in any sort of grounded "normal" world. Like when the author adds in a family conflict subplot where the MC is like in absolute shambles because her mom said something slightly passive aggressive at lunch. that reads as more jarring to me than like conflict being something ridiculous that her mom doesn't want her being a marine biologist bc they come from a long line of fishmongers. Give me absurd drama to match the over the top dialogue and character emotions, I knew it would be unrealistic it's a romance novel! I guess this applies more to romcoms, but the same would apply I think to an analogous serious scenario. Or at least that's my take on it

okay so having just finished genuinely the most boring romance novel I have ever read in my LIFE I'm going to expand on this a little so thank you for sending an ask that gives me such a great platform to do that

I personally generally prefer a romance that just gets fucking silly with it, like really outlandish. A Lady for the Duke (Alexis Hall) is obviously the dream, being a whole swoony historical trans-affirming fantasy, but contemporary fake relationship stories can also be fun in their sheer ridiculousness, like Love, Hate, and Clickbait (Liz Bowery), which I actually liked, and Unfortunately Yours (Tessa Bailey), which I did not like but was very funny. and let's not forget queen Helen Hoang's Bride Test, which has a premise that dances perilously close to human trafficking but all works out in the end!!!

BUT HAVING SAID THAT. I don't think that something needs to be totally implausible to be a good romance. two of my very favorites romance novels anywhere ever are Helen Hoang's Heart Principle (no one should be surprised Hoang is on her twice I adore her) and Akwaeke Emezi's You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. both of these books are very grounded in reality but with very uncommon situations to heighten emotions and add urgency; in Hoang's case it's a character's adult autism diagnosis + death of a parent and in Emezi's case it's a very sudden and #problematic attraction coming out of absolutely nowhere. the stakes are very real, mostly centering around being true to yourself v disappointing your family, but the circumstances are still wild enough to make you say "god DAMN" and keep turning pages. hell, I'll even be extremely generous and include Mistakes Were Made (Meryl Wilsner) which is kind of a flop but does have the intriguing premise of "what if you were fucking a milf but her kid was YOUR BEST FRIEND and it was a secret?"

those are like the two sweet spots TO ME, and this book I just read (which was Thank You for Sharing by Rachel Runya Katz, I feel so bad putting it on blast but I know people are going to ask) really solidified it for me because TYFS didn't fall into either of those categories. I'm going to say something absolutely insane, which is that multiple times while I was reading it I found myself wishing that the book was fanfic, because on its own it just... didn't bring a lot to the table? it falls into the grounded category but doesn't really bring any of those heightened stakes to the story, it's just 330 pages of people in their late twenties complaining about dating and their office jobs. if I wanted that I could just ask my group chat! there's nothing particularly particularly gripping about watching made up strangers do it!

but then I was like oh hang on... if this was two fictional characters who are usually fighting with swords or throwing cars at each other or something this would be so gripping. it's literally the coffee shop AU principle, right? like seeing people in a very mundane setting having an office job and going to a bar is very shrimpteresting when they're normally defusing space bombs. I was explaining this to my housemates and I couldn't think of a straight couple to apply it to (the book is m/f) so I said Naruto and Sasuke, which is crazy because I've never seen a single episode of Naruto, but like. idk Naruto being a museum curator who has to work with Sasuke, a marketing specialist who he had beef with a summer camp 14 years ago, sounds kind of compelling, right? definitely more than just two people I don't know.

there's a post on here that I think about a lot that talks about why advertising a story with tropes doesn't work for original fiction as well as it does for fan fic because knowing the tropes is more helpful when you already have a sense of investment in the characters and their personalities, and I think this is related to that! I think sometimes you NEED to have a wider sense of scope for the characters for them to be interesting in a very mundane setting!

ANYWAY. much to consider, etc.

#bookblr

[senei]

rambling a little but uhhh something i love a lot about slay the princess(besides like literally everything else about it since i'm kind of latched onto it) is how the artwork is loose.

tldr it's a good way of showing that the 'cleanliness' of art isn't necessary, and you really shouldn't worry your head off about that kind of stuff. but the Entire word vomit is underneath

it's sooo sososo common seeing people make huge deals about their art being 'clean'.

the lineart needs to be nice and sharp, the rendering needs to be perfectly butter smooth, et cetera.. especially with the ai stuff going on, for some reason? it kind of varies from different communities/platforms, but it's always there in some form. hard to miss most of the time

i see so many people getting pressed over that kind of involuntary obligation they put on themself—and not to say i don't do that exact same thing at times myself!!! it really upsets me knowing the kind of toll it can take on motivation to actually just. draw whatever the fuck is bouncing in your head like an rpg slime idle.

ik the fact that the sprites weren't entirely polished wasn't on purpose. that it's just because of the sheer amount of them/the lack of emotional masochism needed to do the Entire Process on Each One as a Single Person. but it still means a lot to me.

it shows how the same exact idea can be communicated completely disregarding whether or not those kinds of little details aren't ironed flat.

in like 99% of people who look at something, they just go "ooouuh!....art coole👍 !!!!!!!!". they're not gonna give two shits on wings about stray lines or an underblended shadow or whatever.

or at least that's what i'd like to think. as an artist with ungodly chicken scratch not yet conceivable to man i haven't been told anything.

just do however much you wanna do it's silly little artworks not your holy purpose to which inaction holds eternal suffering as consequence or something

#not sure how to put it. i just. wanted to put it. somehow. #slay the princess #mutterings of i

[mamawasatesttube]

i would like 2 hear more about the timkon wedding pretty please

i talked abt timkon wedding ideas once here! some other thoughts, building off all that:

they are incredibly giddy all throughout the ceremony. bouncing on their feet keep grinning at each other and everything.

their vows are riddled with inside jokes and silliness as well as heartfelt sappy sentiment. tim is like "btw this is the abridged version. i wrote the rest down in a letter you can read later i just can't actually say it all out loud in front of an audience" and kon gets this biiig ol smile and goes "awww. you looove me." and tim just stares at him like. "yeah. that's. that's the point. that's why we're here kon"

kon wears a beautiful lacy white dress. ma, lori, cissie, and bart came with to help him pick it out; lori declared that if tim's first sight of kon in it didn't leave him stunned speechless, she'd call the wedding off bc no one who deserves kon would be capable of coherent thought seeing him in it <3

(not to worry. they do the private lil first look with the photographers and tim takes one look at kon and gets so excited that he has to turn around with a giant giddy grin and just flap his hands at the air for a minute out of sheer joy before he can actually face him. kon is so endeared by this and also delighted by tim's delight at seeing him AND by how pretty tim looks in his tux that he almost starts floating. they're both a bit of a mess.)

(tim is wearing a really pretty tux btw. later, at the reception, when he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his sleeve bc they're dancing, kon cannot stop staring.)

dick is ofc tim's best man. this bears reiterating

cassie either is kon's best butch or the officiant ♥ if she's officiating, bart's kon's best man.

tim gets choked up during their first non-choreographed slow dance. he doesn't cry often, but the overwhelming joy of the fact that they made it, they're alive and they've grown up and they're here and they're married, and all their friends and family are here with them, just slams into him like a freight train as kon twirls him around.

he hasn't cried in so long that his chest gets tight and his throat closes up and his eyes start prickling and his first thought isn't "oh i'm crying" but "oh fuck did someone poison my champagne?!" before he realizes.

kon notices his heart rate spike a little and then sees him wiping at his eyes and just. "you just freaked out about crying and thought you, like, got poisoned or something. didn't you." bc he knows exactly how tim's brain works

and then kon (radiant, holding him, his husband, in a wedding dress, beautiful, holding him, his husband!!!) is laughing at him and they're pressed together and tim can feel it in his chest and. well. now hes crying harder while batting kon on the shoulder like shut up!! shut up!!

kon (a very good husband) whisks him away after that song ends to go hide in a private lil alcove somewhere so he can just hug tim and let him sniffle it out for a few minutes. all their friends tease about them sneaking off to make out but it's actually just kon being very considerate of his overstimulated hubby-wubby who is not used to processing such intense emotions on the spot. he needs a minute to cling and let it all wash over him and then he's like okay. okay okay im good now im normal

and then they make out. obviously.

#answers #Anonymous #this is making me so soft to think abt what if i write wedding fic......... #timkon #rambles #tim #kon

[elliespuns]

Ellie and Joel sit at the campfire. It's a quiet night, and they've just finished eating. Joel's about his business, sharpening his knife, and Ellie is bored to her bone. Listening to the sound of the crickets and the nighlife around them, she shuffles her foot on the ground before she glances over at Joel with a smirk on her face.

"Hey, Joel?" 

"Hmm?" He doesn't bother looking at her; he is busy with his knife.

"What does the receptionist at a sperm bank say as clients leave?" She asks, ready to annoy his ass with one of her adult jokes that she knows will make him unconfortable.

Hearing the words, he's quick to lift his eyes on her. "Ellie!!" The thin line of his brow jumps in surprise. "Where did you—"

"Thanks for coming!" She blurts out and falls quiet, just like him.

There's a suspended moment of silence for a while, as if something had momentarily stolen the very sound of their voice, before Joel finally breaks the silence by letting himself fall victim to the funny look on Ellie's face and bursts out into a big, booming laugh, causing her to do the same. They both guffaw. Laughter bubbles up from deep within him and her—a contagious joy shared between them that infects the air—as they can't stop their hearthy laugher from howling through the woods.

For once, they worry about nothing. They don't worry about the infected. They don't worry about the hunters. They don't worry about how they're going to cross the country, scavenge enough food, or find supplies. All they worry about is how to stop the giddy delight, unable to contain the sheer joy that radiates from both of them as their tummies hurt.

I've always loved this picture. This moment between Ellie and Joel holds so much emotion: contentment, love, and joy. We never got to experience it in the game, and so with just the existence of this picture, there was nothing left for me to do but imagine this heartwarming moment in my mind and interpret it for myself.

Judging by the picture itself, this must have happened between Pittsburgh and meeting Henry with Sam. They already have to know each other a bit, and they both still have their summer clothes. Ellie and Joel aren't that close just yet at this moment. But Joel is already far enough to let this girl make him laugh out loud.

I've always imagined that Joel cracking up could only be caused by one of Ellie's inappropriate jokes. We already know from the car scene that she's good with those, isn't she? And he'd never laugh out loud at her silly puns. She'd just make herself laugh, and he'd usually just find it cute but wouldn't let it show.

Who would have known that an adult joke from a quirky teenager would make his night?

#i just love them so much #excuse my babbling #ellie and joel #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #tlou game #the last of us game #the last of us talk #the last of us fic #ellie and joel fic #elliespuns writes

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Hello, I noticed your inbox is open so I'm hoping to make a request if you're not too busy that is. But before I do I just want to say I LOVE your work, unfortunately when I first found you your original blog had already been gone so i was unableto see all your works and art, but luckily I was able to find some reblogs of your work and I became a huge fan. May I request reader who likes to sing? Maybe they became the bard of chain to help make money? Thank you very much for your time and please keep up the phenomenal work and make sure take care of yourself.

Oh a reader who can sing would be a little bit tricky for the Chain. Not because some member of the Chain dislike songs or singing, but for other, more irrational reasons.

On the one hand, they would love the fact that you care enough about them that you’d utilize your lovely singing voice to help make money to support the group. It just proves to them how kind and amazing you are.

The sheer pride that would fill them seeing crowds gather around you in towns to hear you perform dwarfs the pride they have in themselves for saving Hyrule. If they could they’d show the world how incredible you are, even if the praise you’d receive will never quite be good enough in their eyes.

But on the other hand, when they start becoming more and more possessive, a certain jealousy starts to fill them when they see other people - strangers, no less - listening to you sing.

It’s selfish, they’ll admit it, but they feel as though they’re the only ones who deserves to hear your beautiful voice. Other people wouldn’t be able to appreciate it, appreciate you, in the ways you deserve. They couldn’t care less about the money your singing brings in, they’d rather have your singing be featured in private performances with them as your adoring audience.

But one does not simply cage a bird and expect it to sing on command, Gliph was the one who made that point, so it’s fuzzy whether or not they’d actually succeed in this or if they compromise with you.

Bonus, some members of the Chain have some connections to music and singing.

Based on Jojo’s July art, we know that each member of the group can play at least one instrument so no doubt they’d provide instrumentation to your performances.

Sky specifically seems to be the one who plays his Lyre regularly as a hobby while the others bring out their own for special occasions, so he doesn’t hesitate to play along to whatever song you decide to sing absentmindedly or hum along to.

Meanwhile Jojo said herself that Wild can sing so he’ll totally have a duet with you under any given circumstances. Personally, he doesn’t believe his singing can hold a candle to your own, but that doesn’t mean he shies away from the chance to have a romantic duet or just a silly fun one.

Also, I don’t think Legend has as much baggage from Marin by the time he’s fallen for you, he would’ve healed enough to let go of her bit by bit, but his reaction to your singing was definitely interesting.

In the beginning, he wouldn’t mind you being musically inclined and humming or singing little tunes every now and again, it’s not like every instance of song would remind him of her. But as time goes on and his attachment to you becomes much more romantic, he’ll wonder if he’s essentially *replacing* Marin by loving you.

This plays into his mini arc about not pushing you away and accepting his own feelings for you, but for a time he’ll act annoyed whenever you sing and maybe even say that it annoys him in an effort to stop the conflicting emotions going through his head.

Of course, the moment you get angry at him, or worse, stop singing around him, the guilt and regret will come crashing in and weighing on his conscious. The other heroes glaring holes into him whenever this happens doesn’t help either…

In the end he apologizes and says that he was wrong, saying that he actually loves your singing and would be blessed to hear more of it. And it’s a good thing to since he was pretty sure that the others might kill him if he didn’t, but even if they weren’t affected at all he still would’ve done it.

#linked universe #yandere linked universe #acrylic answers #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #lu legend #lu sky #lu wild

[forever-rogue]

Okok I know Steven needs sleep but waking him up at 3 am just to ask of he still likes you even though they're married sweet boy would literally stare for s few seconds straight to process the question 😂

"Please tell me, this is not why you woke me up." with Steven pretty pls

AN | Please I love this idea so much 🥰 Enjoy!

Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.2k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You huffed lightly as you rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. The pale moonlight coming through the sheer curtains was just enough to cast shadows of the tree branches on the ceiling. You knew it was nothing, but you still didn’t like them either. You rolled onto your other side and found that Steven had his back to you. Of course he would manage to be able to sleep after the marathon of scary movies you’d had that evening. 

“Unfair,” you sighed quietly as you gave up and slipped out of the bed to trek to the kitchen. If you were going to have to be awake, you might as well get a snack in the meantime. 

Once you were in the kitchen, you rummaged through the cabinet to find the cookies that were stashed away for times such as these. After not finding them for several minutes, you came to the conclusion that someone must have gotten to them before you did. You loved him, you really did, but you also really had wanted those cookies. 

“Steven Grant,” you groaned before closing the cabinet and moving onto the fridge. There wasn't much of interest in there either - you really needed to go and get some groceries - until you spotted that piece of cake in the back. It would have to do for now. 

You grabbed the plate out and set it at the kitchen table before grabbing a fork and plopping down in the chair. You were glad you'd turned on all the lights in the kitchen and hallway; it was the only thing that was keeping you from completely losing it. Each little creak and groan coming from outside and inside the apartment caused you to remain on edge. Realistically you knew that nothing was going to happen, but in the middle of the night your tired mind wasn't fully logical.

You finished the slice of cake quickly before washing it all down with a swig of whatever latest fake milk Steven had managed to find that was in the fridge. You paused to use the bathroom before making your way back to the bedroom. Steven was still in the exact same position as when you had left; lucky him. 

You crawled back under the covers on your side of the bed and bundled yourself up in the soft blankets. After a bit of tossing and turning, you couldn't take it anymore and reached for Steven, attempting to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer to your body. Even in his sleep, he attempted to pull out of your grasp.

"Steven," you pouted, ready to cry even though you knew he was asleep and couldn't help it. It was silly to let such a thing upset you, but you were already in an emotional state. What part of your cycle were you in? Maybe that was why you were feeling even more emotional than normal, "I need you."

He didn’t respond to your soft little request, either because he was still deep asleep, or very good at ignoring you and feigning sleep. But you knew he would never do a thing such as ignore you. You picked his side a little, jabbing your finger into the soft flesh on his hip, “Steven. Steven.”

“‘m sleepin’,” he grumbled as he burrowed further into his pillow. The logical part of your brain knew you should just leave him alone and try and get some sleep on your own, but you weren’t feeling particularly logical. And you really want to be wrapped up in his arms if you were being completely honest.

“Steven,” this time your hand was on his shoulders and you resorted to shaking him, “please, wake up, I need you.”

“Hmm?” he finally rolled onto his back, his eyes opening slightly as he blinked away the sleepy bleariness, “what’s wrong, darling?”

“Well, two things,” you sighed as you sat up and looked at him with wide eyes. He yawned and you instantly felt bad about waking him up, but at this point, it was already done, “first of all, I’m scared. We shouldn’t have watched all those scary movies right before bed. I can’t sleep and I swear I’ve never heard this many creaks and cracks before.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered as he put his hand on your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek, “they were just movies, that’s all. Nothing can hurt you, besides I’m right here.”

“I know that,” you pouted, “but as we are well aware, monsters and scary things that most people don’t think are real happen to be very real…and scary”

“Let me rephrase,” he couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, “nothing’s going to happen to you. Fake movies and you’ve got me here to protect you.”

“Fine,” it was a huff of defeat when you realized he was right. You were being overdramatic, but he didn’t have to point it out.

“What was the second thing?” your face flushed with warmth as you realized just how silly this was all going to sound. 

“Do you still love me?” you asked softly, burying your face in your hands as he laughed. And it wasn’t just some soft little shy laugh, but a deep one that caused him to sit up, “don’t laugh, Steven!”

“Please tell me this is not why you woke me up at three am,” he asked as you sighed lightly, shrugging your shoulders. He gently put his hands on your hips as he motioned for you to sit in his lap, “sweetheart…”

“Well no,” you offered him a tentative little smile, “but you wouldn’t let me hold you or cuddle and I was scared!”

“I was sleeping!”

“Well…normally you’d still hold me but you wouldn’t tonight,” this felt even more ridiculous as you said it out loud, “I just…I love you.”

“I love you too, very very much,” his hands found your face as he leaned in and kissed you gently. You could practically melt into his touch, finally calming down, “and in case you’ve forgotten, we happen to be married.”

You took his hand in yours, letting the cool metal of his wedding band click against yours. He brought your hand to his lips as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “there’s plenty of unhappy and out of love married people.”

“And we don’t happen to be those people, love.”

“I…you’re right,” you agreed with a small little sigh, “I’m sorry for waking you up. And being…like this. I guess I just really freaked myself out.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he promised, “now we just know that we won’t have any more scary movie marathons right before bed…and that I still love you even if my sleeping body doesn’t hold you. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly, “thank you, my love. You always know just what to do.”

“What can I say?” he teased as he nudged his nose against yours, letting his lips lingers just shy of yours, “I’m pretty fantastic.”

“And a dork,” you giggled, “that happens to be my favorite human being in the entire world.”

“Well, that settles that,” he grinned, “we’re on the same page. But for now…let’s get back to bed. It is…three in the morning after all. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

“Will you hold me?”

“Of course.”

“Then yes,” you promised, “let’s get some sleep and then tomorrow I’ll make it up to you.”

“What…just how are you planning on making this up to me?” he raised an eyebrow as you offered him a saccharine little smile.

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” you whispered, “trust me. I love you, my sweet Steven-with-v Grant.”

“I love you more.”

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x fem!reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #moon knight #marc spector