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#i do love a pun title
murderous-coffeebean · 11 months
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The Birth of Copia
Way back in January, I hurt my right hand and I couldn’t draw - or do much in general without pain - with it. Then a friend’s recommendation got me into Ghost and their music really helped me through a time when I felt quite down and restless as I thought I wouldn’t be able to pursue any of my hobbies for quite some time (which was mostly true). But then I bought tickets to a Re-Imperatour ritual and spent the next two months working on this shirt design with my left hand instead. Needless to say, it tested my patience a lot at times, but my left-handed drawing improved quite a bit and I had a lot of fun, which was something I greatly needed at that time. My right hand is better - although not fully healed yet - and I’m seeing Ghost next week (!!!) and I shall be wearing my self-made shirt. <3
@thebandghostofficial
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Ah lads, I might have gone off the rails in my desperation for Legato fanfics and ended up writing my own.
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chaotic-history · 11 months
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I love the silly little title <3
though clearly nothing can compete with this title:
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"etc."
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gay-dorito-dust · 30 days
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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seven-oh-four · 5 months
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🦑 give-inkbrush-crab-tank Follow
does anyone know how people do that hairstyle where they have suckers on the outside of their hair? i think it looks really cool and i wanna try it out
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🎣 grizzco-goobschnoozlers-deactivat Follow
um. guys have you read the. grizzco handbook. im beginning to think the salmonids might not be unfeeling unthinking monsters guys. are we the bad guys
🐡 toni-kensa-packer-deactivated1402 Follow
oh squit they fuckin killed op
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📱 krak-off-splat-roller Follow
anyone else find li'l judd a little creepy? :/
🐱 lil-judd-official Follow
Fuck you. Actually fucking kill yourself.
📱 krak-off-splat-roller Follow
HUH???????????????
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🍣 smallfry-deactivated140170721 Follow
ABOUT TO GO ON MY FIRST BIG RUN WISH ME LUCK!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
GOOD LUCK! WARGLARGLA!!
🍣 smallfry-deactivated140170721 Follow
THANK YOU MY BROTHER!! I WILL NOW GO INTO BATTLE!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
OP HAS FED THE SEA WITH ITS FLESH!! REJOICE!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLARGLA!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLARGLA!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLARGLA!!
🎏 flyfish Follow
DO NOT BE SO HASTY MY BROTHERS!! I HAVE SIMPLY BEEN PROMOTED TO FLYFISH!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
CONGRATULATIONS BROTHER!! WARGLAGLA!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLAGLA!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLAGLA!!
🍣 smallfry Follow
WARGLAGLA!!
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🐙 eight-8 Follow
About to go to the promised land!!! ^-^ Ahhh I'm so excited!!! >_<
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🍣 he-who-devoured-seven-inklings-under-the-full-moon Follow
JUST GOT MY OWN NAME
🍣 the-first-chum-to-earn-the-title-of-grandmaster-cook-as-well-as-the-victor-of-the-biannual-fishpaste-fortress-culinary-competition-and-the-right-hand-chef-of-the-salmonid-priestess-selenia-of-the-sixth-ring-who-provides-ritual-food-offerings Follow
HELL YEAH BROTHER
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🐻 grizzco-official Follow
This pride month we'd like to remind you that Grizzco is not in any way homophobic. We love bears.
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🦑 give-inkbrush-crab-tank Follow
IS CRUSTY SEAN'S NAME A FUCKING PUN
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🐙 eight-8 Follow
Wheare am i
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moonlitnyx · 5 months
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𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒…𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒?!?
Your boyfriend absolutely spoils you. But hey, whats so wrong with that?
ft. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, MALLEUS DRACONIA, VIL SCHOENHEIT, DEUCE SPADE x GN READER
content. TOTALLY SFW, fluff, there isn't any nsfw i did a pun in the title (do u get it) reader could be seen as yuu
notes. Reader is so lucky to get spoiled i wanna get spoiled not fair not fair-also, new fic layout!! Hope u like it...also I listened to MAGNOLIA by Gang of Youths while writing this and bro its such a good song stfu
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ft. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Leona leans back on the carseat, arm resting on the back of your seat as he lets out a sigh as you show him your newest haul that you had gotten from the store using his credit card, mind you. You grin toothily, the backseat of his car filled with an astronomical amount of bags that make even him rethink his decisions.
"At this rate, you just might make a prince of Sunset Savannah go bankrupt." He eyes you wearily. "How does someone like you need all of this stuff?" He says the words without malice-no, instead filled with pure confusion.
"Ohhhh c'mon, you're a prince! You should know a lil' luxury is essential for happiness in life!" You exclaim, and Leona looks at you with skepticism.
He shakes his head, amused. "Okay, okay. Stop lookin' at me with those eyes or I might just buy you a whole mall next." He grins, sharp canines poking out.
"OMG, maybe I can do your hair now that I got new hair products!"
"Don't push it," He drawls. "I haven't forgotten the last time you 'did my hair' and I ended up with pigtails."
"Not my fault you looked so cute with pigtails! Look I even have it on my phones home screen-"
ft. MALLEUS DRACONIA
"My love, I would buy you the world if it meant seeing you grin like that."
He smiles as he places the delicate chain on your neck, paired with a pendant of a wilted rose studded with rubies and emeralds. He had meticulously picked it, he had told you with a small, almost shy smile.
"You shouldn't have, Malleus." You ears are red, flustered just thinking about how adorably sweet Malleus is. "You keep getting me things that I don't even have time to give you a thank you gift."
"Nothing is more precious a gift than your happiness," He murmurs, planting a chaste kiss on your temple. You giggle at his words.
"Your such a sap. Sometimes your a full 180 when your talking with Leona," You say, amused.
"Kingscholar is a brat." His green eyes are filled with annoyance at the thought of Leona, and you snicker.
"Maybe he thinks the same 'bout you." You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks utterly exasperated. "C'mon, lets go get ice cream!"
Malleus' mood instantaneously lightens. "Ice cream?" His voice is filled with a childish excitement, and you nod, a grin plastered on your face.
"It'll be my treat, this time."
ft. VIL SCHOENHEIT
"Liebling, please buy at least something." Vil frowns as he stares at your hands, which, too his dismay, don't hold any shopping bags, not even food.
"I don't need anything, plus I feel guilty that I'm leeching off of you." You shrug, and Vil's purple eyes are filled with concern before he scoffs.
"Mein Liebling," my darling, "You're not "leeching off" of me." He lets out a soft smile, and pinches your cheek, which leads you to let out an indignant "ow!" and a cackle from Vil.
"What's the point of being successful if I can't spoil you?" He clicks his tongue, before glaring at you. You know he's just upset that you're thinking bad about yourself, and it made your heart skip a beat. Most thought that Vil Schoenheit was a stuck-up, rude, controlling snob, but really he just was showing his care for those he loved.
"'m sorry, Vil." You let out a smile, and Vil sighs in relief. "But, if you''re going to spoil me, then I get the right to spoil you too!"
"If you must," Vil waves his hand. "Whatever makes you happy."
ft. DEUCE SPADE
Deuce knows that he can't compare much with his friends and seniors when it comes to education or being rich, but Deuce knows that he doesn't need to be rich to spoil you.
It's the small acts, him giving you half of his lunch when you cant afford one yourself, helping you study while also horribly struggling himself, giving you small gifts that remind him of you.
Today was like any other, with both you and Deuce banging your heads on the table as you study for Trein's newest test.
"You're a real one, Deuce." Your voice is muffled as you rest your forehead on the wooden table. "When I asked Ace for help he sad that his tutor fee's were "twenty dollars an hour"! He's such a scam," you grumble.
Deuce looks up, a smile on his face. "No problem. I thought it would be cool if we both got A's and showed off to Ace." You laugh at that.
You nod. "Let's wipe that smirk off Ace's face!"
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©moonlitnyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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Miguel O’Hara x reader - Sew cute
Warnings/tags: Miguel getting lowkey horny over his girlfriend knowing how to sew. Also, mentions of marriage.
Part two
I have this head cannon of rich bf Miguel finding his girlfriend’s hobbies adorable and taking every possible opportunity to fule her passion- I might make this a loosely related series, where it’d be the same concept but different hobbies.
I’m so sorry for the pun as the title.
It all started when a line of stitching on your pants began to loosen. The top stitching under the fly, specifically.
You complained offhandedly about it to Miguel, leaning against his side and pouting slightly as you whined about your favorite pair of pants starting to give out. Miguel chuckled softly at your dramatics, scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulder sympathetically with his other, eventually pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising to buy you a new pair next time you two went shopping.
Except, he never gets a chance. Because the next night, he comes home to the sight of you hunched over on the couch, your tongue bitten in concentration as a movie you’re not paying attention too plays on the TV, your head turned to something in your lap instead.
Miguel can’t help his curiosity- coming up behind you and peaking over your shoulder.
Looking down, he sees what you’re focused so intensely on, and it catches him off guard.
You held a thread and needle in one hand and what he assumed to be your pants in the other, carefully sewing a line of stitching into the fabric. Except, you weren’t working on your pants- your pants were sitting to the side of you- the stitching already repaired. Now, you had one of Miguel’s shirts- one he recognized as one he had planned on getting rid of because of a seam coming undone.
“¿Qué haces?” Miguel asks, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing loving circles into the tense muscles as watched you work.
You can’t help but shudder as Miguel’s fingers dig into your back, easing the pain from sitting hunched over for so long. You try to keep the shakiness out of your voice as you look up at him to answer his question.
“I’m fixing my pants. The ones that were coming apart- I told you about that yesterday, remember?”
“Love, that’s my shirt. Not your pants.”
“O-oh yeah.” You felt yourself flush in embarrassment, looking back down at the shirt you had stolen from Miguel. “Well- yeah- I finished the pants earlier. Then I found this shirt in with the rest of the clothes while I was putting away laundry. I-I hope you don’t mind that I’m fixing it-”
Miguel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he continued rubbing your shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. But, I’m more than happy to buy us both new clothes. You don’t need to worry about pinching pennies.”
You turn to him, a grin spread across your still warm cheeks as you respond. “Miguel, there’s no reason to replace something so easy to repair! Plus, I’m enjoying myself!”
Miguel nodded, looking down to admire the stitching you had done on the shirt so far. “Hm… I didn’t know you could sew, mi amor.”
“It’s not exactly hard, just moving the needle through the fabric, you know? I haven’t done it in a good while, I forgot how much I liked doing this kinda stuff.”
Miguel was enamored by this new revelation. Before this, he had always seen sewing as more of an old person thing, but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling of domesticity he got from watching you lay in his lap as you delicately maneuvered the needle and thread through the torn fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at the sight, it was like you were his little house wife.
Or…house girlfriend? Because he hasn’t married you yet…. But that’s really just a technicality. You’re his house wife, Miguel has decided it.
The next morning, when you handed him the repaired shirt with a proud grin, Miguel couldn’t help but feel treasured and loved from the simple gesture. Before this, Miguel would never have considered wearing something that had ripped them been repaired. He had the money to replace things, so why wouldn’t he? But from that day on, that shirt became his favorite, and he wore it every chance he had.
After that, Miguel started coming home with little handicraft and embroidery kits for you. Whenever he’d get see a kit he knew you’d like- maybe it had your favorite animal or something- he’d toss it in the cart and save it for a rainy day, whether that be a metaphorical or literal one.
And it all stayed like that for a while: Miguel bringing you small hand sewing and embroidery kits, you lighting up and getting started on them right away- usually spending the rest of the night on the couch next to Miguel with a movie or show on in the background.
Until one of your friends asked that you sign up for a sewing workshop with them. It was a relatively basic class, held at one of the local chain fabric/craft stores, but you had agreed to go, mostly for your friends sake.
The workshop was fun. You learned a bit about sewing machine tension and using patterns, and the sewing project given was simple and doable within the time period.
You didn’t realize that Miguel had come early, or that he was standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching you sew with a smile. He would deny it if you asked him, but he had arrived early on purpose to watch the last few minutes of the class. He had assumed the class was hand sewing, like everything else he had seen you do up till that point, and he was surprised to see you hunched over a sewing machine instead of your usual needle and thread.
It was like the first time he saw you sewing all over again: he was fucking smitten, and was going to make you his wife. That was all he could think about, because god help him, you already looked and acted the part.
Miguel was mesmerized by how focused you were as you moved the fabric through the machine. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration- it was precious, and Miguel wanted nothing more than to melt at how domestic you seemed while doing it.
And when you finished and came up to him? With a wide grin as you proudly presented the stuffed animal you had made during the workshop, insisting that you made it for him? His heart melted, right then and there. He squeezed that stuffed animal so tight and looked down at you with so much love, you were half worried he’d either pounce on you or make the poor stuffed animal’s head pop off (which Miguel might have cried about, at this point).
After the workshop, Miguel didn’t take you home. You and him stayed at the fabric store, him loading your arms up with fabric, patterns, and whatever else he decided you needed. “You like this one? No? You don’t? Well I think it’s just a good basic- like a black shirt, so we should just get it anyways.”
Oh god. And then he found the baby clothes patterns. You could’ve sworn you spent hours at that craft store.
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theemissuniverse · 6 months
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FLIRTING WITH LIU KANG AND ONE SIDED FLIRTING WITH SHANG TSUNG MK 1 INTROS WITH FEM READER!
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SUMMARY : what the title says. You’re an Earthrealm warrior.
A/N : not gonna lie I’m having writers block so take this lmao
MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2
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SHANG TSUNG VS (Y/N)
Shang Tsung : Your beauty holds no bounds
(Y/N) : Your ego holds no bounds
(Y/N) : Do Outworlders speak English? I am not interested
Shang Tsung : And yet you’re here…why?
Shang Tsung : Liu Kang cannot give you a what I can give you
(Y/N) : You do know you’re competing against a literal fire God right?
Shang Tsung : Leave that pathetic God and join me
(Y/N) : You literally got deceived by your titan double. I’m good
Shang Tsung : You are far too beautiful to be with a man like Liu Kang
(Y/N) : And my mouth is producing far too much vomit
Shang Tsung : If you don’t become my queen - you will become my enemy
(Y/N) : I already AM your enemy
(Y/N) : If I didn’t want you in the last timeline- what makes you believe I’ll want you in this one?
Shang Tsung : I can be very persuasive
(Y/N) : Of all the people that could be obsessed with me - it had to be a miserable sorcerer
Shang Tsung : You will fall for my advances eventually
(Y/N) : Stay the hell away from Liu Kang
Shang Tsung : I will. Once you join me
Shang Tsung : You were so close for falling for me in the original timeline
(Y/N) : Don’t remind me of how idiotic I used to be
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LIU KANG VS (Y/N)
(Y/N) : I don’t think I can take much more of that sorcerers flirting
Liu Kang : I will put an end to it, my love
(Y/N) : So I fall for you in every timeline?
Liu Kang : It just means we are destined to be together
Liu Kang : You are the only woman made for me
(Y/N) : You always know how to make my heart race
(Y/N) : Come on. It’d be new and exciting
Liu Kang : While Temperature play sounds intriguing, I do not want to hurt you
(Y/N) : Shang Tsung seems to think he can have me
Liu Kang : *chuckles* I am the least bit worried of that sorcerer
Liu Kang : You are my one and only, (Y/N)
(Y/N) : As to you, Liu Kang
Liu Kang : Are you ready for your training?
(Y/N) : If it ends up with you on top of me then yeah
Liu Kang : I wish to treat you as my Goddess
(Y/N) : You sure know how to turn a woman on
Liu Kang : Shang Tsung’s flirting has grown drastically eye clawing
(Y/N) : You say that as if he’s been flirting with you. I’m the real victim
(Y/N) : Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?
Liu Kang : Your puns are both cute and insufferable
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LIU KANG VS SHANG TSUNG
Shang Tsung : (Y/N) will fall for me eventually
Liu Kang : You are fooling yourself if you believe she would ever want you
Liu Kang : Stay away from, (Y/N)
Shang Tsung : You and I both know that deep down she craves for my darkness
Shang Tsung : I almost had her in the original timeline
Liu Kang : Only because of certain events that had taken its place
Shang Tsung : You call me the villain but you specifically crafted this timeline to make (Y/N) fall in love with you
Liu Kang : I am not capable of that kind of power nor evil. (Y/N) fell in love with me by her own free will as she has done through out other timelines
Shang Tsung : If you want her so bad, why have (Y/N) meet me?
Liu Kang : It was bound to have happen and as I have done every timeline, I gave (Y/N) the choice whether she wanted to be consumed by your greed and darkness
Liu Kang : (Y/N) does not want to be with you, sorcerer
Shang Tsung : If she doesn’t then why does she always end up back to me?
Shang Tsung : (Y/N) will fall for my power eventually
Liu Kang : That very statement proves you do not know her as (Y/N) is not attracted to power and greed
Shang Tsung : If I win, you’ll let me have (Y/N)
Liu Kang : (Y/N) is not a prize to be won
Shang Tsung : Together, me and (Y/N) can rule all realms
Liu Kang : Im sure (Y/N) would be interested in the man that got deceived by his own double
Shang Tsung : I could treat (Y/N) better than you
Liu Kang : Better? You tried to kill her in the original timeline
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rosedom · 2 months
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HELLO AGAINNN Tis i, Lyne- No im not Lyney but ✨anon lol here to give you more ideas ✨
Fucking Cyno in the desert, in an eremite tent at a eremite camp you both had just cleared out a few minutes ago, just, literally fucking him and covering his mouth to muffle his sounds so it wont attract any other monsters. Him begging for you to go faster because he's so close to cumming <3 Sadly, that is all i have for today, have a good day and i love ya! -✨anon (Yes i have now claimed the title of ✨anon and theres nothing you could do abt it sorry <3)
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"in an open match, 【 ✨ 】 has invited CYNO to play . . . it's fucking in-tents
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!cyno, PIV sex, covering his mouth, semi-public (no getting caught), praise, dirty talk, creaming & creampie, post-coitus puns .
A/N : this fic is an apology for the spam of my new masterlists ,, i am so so sorry ><
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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He's so hard.
Cyno's so fucking hard, and it's all for you.
He can't help but whine, loud and stark in the stilling desert. It's still now, cleared from eremites; but in the distance, you both know another camp awaits. Even closer, there's hilichurls.
You're tempted, too, to fuck him in a hilichurl's outpost—maybe even a watchtower, his body bared to the sky and the sands of the desert.
(You wouldn't, of course. You're far too possessive of that which is yours.
But it doesn't hurt to tease at the idea, is all.)
"Quiet, baby," you murmur, slowing down your thrusts 'til they drag at a tent tortoise's pace. His cunt squeezes around you in reply.
"We don't want some hilichurls to hear us, do you, Cy? " He shakes his head vehemently, leaning down to press his forehead into the soft—albeit rather sandy—blanket that the eremites had left behind.
This is their home, after all; the home—the camp—that strangers slept in only hours ago, now used to fuck the General Mahamatra in.
How ironic. You think, though, that the eremites wouldn't really mind. (Hopefully.)
"'m—" he cries, cut off by the nudge of your cockhead right against the overly sensitive bump of his g-spot, soft and spongy n' deep inside his pretty lil' cunt.
You coo in reply, pressed right into his blushing ear "What, sweet thing? You're doing so good for me." You wrap your hands around his middle, palms against his rippling abdomen and teasing at the happy trail that dips to his cock.
"I—I think 'm close," he mumbles, moans; grumbles, groans. Cyno arches so prettily beneath you, and you're quick to follow the curve of his back, pressing front to back to him as you are. Small lil' mewls spill out of him, each sound beautiful to your ears—yet so, too, could they be to a monster's.
So, with a gentle grind and a rather sudden halt in your thrusts, you slide the hand you had kept wrapped around his stomach—the one not resting above his mons, keeping him perfectly in place for you—up to his throat, past his jaw, right to his lips.
Cyno positively whines when your hand clasps—snug but not tight, not rough at all—across his mouth. He huffs hotly into your palm, but he's muffled, then, when he cries out again at the next thrust of your hips.
"Keep quiet for me," you groan—muted, of course, because you are not a hypocrite. The sound of your heavy breaths, of Cyno's quiet moans: they won't carry out into the desert, beyond the hanging fabric of the eremite's tent.
This time, he nods, all shaky n' weak. His cunt clenches tight around you, wet and slick and delicious on your cock. It is divine, even with sand itching at both of your legs.
You tell him such. "God, Cyno," you say, groaning low into his sensitive ear. "You feel perfect, all f'r me.
"I almost—" you pause, a satisfied moan of your own crawling from your chest. "I almost wish they stayed to watch. It'd give me a chance to show 'em how pretty you are, yeah? The fearsome General Mahamatra, whimpering and cumming all over my cock."
True to your word, he whimpers. You grin. "That's right, baby. They'd wanna join in, too—I wouldn't let them, of course. You're all mine, aren't'cha?"
"Mhm! Mhm!" His frantic nods almost dislodge your hand, forces you to hold his face a bit tighter. He moans, tonguing at the minute gap of your fingers.
"Easy, sweetheart, easy," you murmur, pulling him closer to you, pulling him closer to your cock. "Still close?" He keeps nodding. "Good, good. Cum whenever you wanna, Cy; cum whenever you want."
He holds you true to that promise, moaning and licking sloppy-like across your fingers in a desperate bid to ground himself, to keep him quiet in the orgasm running through his veins. His cunt creams around you, a milky-white at the base of your cock drip-dripping to the blankets below—just the way you wanted.
"God—" you groan, splaying your hand across his navel, away from his cock, "Just—just a lil' while longer, baby. Look at you, creaming all over yourself. Gonna be leavin' them eremites a pretty surprise, hm? Comin' back h-home, proof of us here, our claim here, my claim on you—" And just like that, you tumble over your own edge.
Cyno makes a weak sound—halfway between a mewl and a whine and a whimper all the same—, cunt milking you in gentle undulations. You fill him right on up, right to the brim, sticky cum spilling out between his hole and your cock.
It's so, so beautiful; the contrast of his dark skin against the opaque white of his and your cum both is absolutely tantalizing.
With a huff, you drop your hand covering his mouth to the mess on the blanket. He coughs, once, licking at his lips when you capture the cum on your fingertips.
"We made a mess," you mumble, the stuff sticky between your fingers; you then take hold of his hips with both hands, dragging yourself out of his cunt. He flops to the blanket and immediately leaks, just slightly but enough—enough to dribble to the blanket. "Not so hot, now."
Breathless, Cyno laughs. "Nah," he mumbles, rolling to his back and smiling up at you—God, he's so pretty. He's all bright scarlet eyes and ruddy cheeks, and you simply can't resist finger-brushing though his tangled hair. Then, rather suddenly, he sits up, alarm in his eyes. "Hey."
You raise a brow. "What's—" he reaches up to cover your mouth.
"Did you have a license?"
"What?"
At your confusion, he only grins. "A license to cum in me. A spermit."
High off your orgasm—floating in post-coitus bliss—, you laugh. You fucking laugh, and you know you're encouraging him; but you find you don't really mind—not when you so adore this little dork of yours.
And when he giggles beneath you, too, you're taken by him even more, his antics and all. This Cyno is your Cyno, even if you're not at your home.
(He'll insist you bring the blanket; he will claim, as you're hauling it back with the satchel full of contraband, of those knowledge capsules you've come to detest, that this is your first walk as a family.
You, no longer post-coitus, will wallop him for it.)
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i went through several websites for cum-related puns . . . i cannot do him any justice. he's so funny, unironically (not in this fic but. in the game !) i hope hope hope this fulfills ur imagination, anon !!
20 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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zutarawasrobbed · 2 months
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ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)
I just finished the season, and holy shit!
Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:
“Sokka is no longer sexist”
I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.
In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.
Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.
“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”
That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.
“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”
This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.
Plot:
The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.
Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.
Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.
Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.
This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.
This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.
Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.
I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.
Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.
June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.
The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.
They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.
They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.
There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.
Shipping:
Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.
They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.
Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.
Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.
Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.
The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.
Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.
Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.
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coldfanbou · 26 days
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Banding Together
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Alright, everyone, here is the fic I was talking about. The first lady you see is Hyun-Jung of Rolling Quartz, while the second is Magenta of QWER. I love both bands and wanted to write them, so here we are with them. Also, yes, the title is a pun because they are both in a band. Please enjoy.
Length 3K
Magenta x Mreader X HyunJung
Sitting at an empty bar, you sip your drink while waiting for your friend. The small chime of the bell alerted you to her entrance. “What took you so long?” You ask, turning to face the door. You note someone else standing with her.
“I was bringing a friend,” she chides, giving you a slight wink. Hyun-Jung wore a simple white dress that suited her well, considering her blonde hair, which turned light blue. You look over and recognize the face. 
“And it’s someone I know.” You finish the last of your drink before ordering another, “Boss, serve the ladies whatever they’d like.” You tell the bartender before standing up. “It’s nice to meet you.” 
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Min-hee.” She greets you, bowing slightly. Min-hee wears a white button-up shirt, a low black vest, and a gray skirt.
“I know. You’re Magenta of Qwer. How do you know Hyun-Jung?” 
“We started talking a while ago. I really like her music, and I complimented her online. We started talking a little afterward, and we’ve gone out a few times.” 
“That’s great. It’s nice to know Hyun-Jung had friends.” Hyun-Jung slaps your shoulder before taking a seat next to you. 
“Boss, the most expensive drink you have,” she says, eyeing you. Shaking your head, you sit back down in your seat. Magenta sits next to Hyun-Jung. “Oh, make it two, Boss.” Hyun-Jung giggles as she puts one hand on Magenta’s shoulder. “We’re going to drink all night!” She says, happy as can be. Sighing in response, you down your drink. 
“Have you two ever played together? I mean, Hyun-Jung is a guitarist, and you're a bassist, Magenta.” 
Magenta shakes her head, “We haven’t played together at all. We mostly go to karaoke and sing our hearts out. Plus, I still stream…”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Magenta lets out a slight snort before giggling. “I just mean that you two could still play together for fun.”
Magenta waves you off, “I get it, I get it. You just said that so plainly.” She grabs her drink, wrapping her lips around the straw and taking a sip before continuing. “We just like to relax together, so we go out to sing.”
Hyun-Jung interrupts your conversation, leaning forward to block your line of sight of Magenta. “Am I just a third wheel on your guys' date?” She bangs her fist against the counter. “Don’t just ignore me.” Hyun-Jung’s anger makes you both laugh. 
“Oh, relax. We’re just chatting.” Hyun-Jung huffs and down the last of her drink. “Take your time drinking; you know how you can get.”
“I’ll be fine. You have to watch out for Min-hee. She’s the one that gets wild.” 
Magenta shakes her friend, “I’m not that bad!” She whines. Hyun-Jung laughs, knowing she’s getting to her friend. 
The three of you stay at the bar until late into the night. Both women were drunk after the many drinks they had at your expense. “I know I said today was on me, but couldn’t you two have taken it a little easy?” 
“No, free drinks are free drinks,” Hyun-Jung says, hiccups overtaking her as she stumbles out of the bar. Magenta wasn’t fairing much better, holding onto Hyun-Jung before falling to the ground. Her face was red, and she continued to pull on Hyun-Jung’s white dress from the ground. Hyun-Jung grabbed the end of her dress, pulling back on it. “You’re going to make everything spill out!” She yelled. What she said was true, though; Magenta’s pulling nearly made one of Hyun-Jung’s tits pop out of her dress. 
“I need help!” Magenta whined. Her previously pristine outfit was dirtied from the fall, and the wine she had spilled on herself earlier. As you looked down at the fallen woman, you glanced at her cleavage. Magenta had unbuttoned her shirt just a little in an attempt to dry her shirt. 
You squat down in front of the drunk woman, “Come on, I’ll carry you to the station.” Magenta sniffles before letting go of Hyun-Jung’s dress and climbing you. You grip her thighs tightly as you stand up, feeling her arms tighten their grip around you as she presses herself against you.  
“You live nearby; let’s stay at your house.” Hyun-Jung’s says as she wraps her arms around yours to support herself. 
“Are you sure? Magenta, what do you think?”
“I wouldn’t mind staying with you.” She says softly. 
“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” 
Along the way home, you feel Magenta rubbing against you. Hyun-Jung seemed completely unaware as Magenta planted her lips on your neck. “Thanks for the night out. Is there any way I could pay you back?” She whispered, adding extra emphasis to any. “I’m sure I could find a good way once we get to your home.” 
Magenta kissed your neck again, her soft lips lingering there. You felt her small tongue lick your neck; it sent a shiver down your spine. You stayed silent, not wanting to give her any attention. “Hey, are we there yet?” Hyun-Jung asked as if to remind you she was there, too. 
“Nearly there, Hyun-Jung.” You continue walking, your arms getting tired from carrying the flirty Magenta.
“I’m getting cold,” Hyun-Jung complained. 
“This is why I told you to bring a jacket,” you reply, nearing your apartment. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re nearly there.” Once you entered the main building, you let Magenta down. “You can walk the rest of the way. I’m getting a little tired.” 
Magenta rests against you, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck. You feel her rub her leg against yours as she brings it up. “What if you carried me like this?” She says in a low voice, jumping up and wrapping her legs around your waist. The sudden weight nearly brings you both down, forcing you to react. You place your hands on her ass as you take a step forward, attempting to balance yourself. Magenta takes the opportunity to shift her weight, smacking your face with her breasts. You’re getting aroused; Magenta was a beautiful woman throwing herself at you.
“Min-Hee! What are you doing?” Hyun-Jung says, trying to get her friend off you.
Magenta clings to you fiercely, “What?! I’m just holding on so he can carry me! Don’t be jealous!” Magenta shakes her head as Hyun-Jung tries to get her off you. After some struggles, Hyun-Jung was able to pry Magenta off you. Magenta pouts as she sits on the cold floor, “You just want him for yourself.”
“That’s not true. I don’t even want him.” The words sting a little, but you know it wasn’t meant as an insult. You grab Magenta’s hand and pull her to her feet before continuing to your apartment. 
You each slip your shoes off at the entrance before heading further inside your home. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Hyun-Jung says, leaving you and Magenta alone. You take a seat on your couch and shut your eyes for a moment, tired from carrying the drunk woman. Magenta stays rooted to where she’s standing, her hands behind her back as she spins from side to side. After the door to the bathroom shuts, she looks down, unbuttoning her vest before walking over to you. You only notice when you feel her straddle you; opening your eyes, you meet hers. Magenta presses her lips against yours; her delicate hands cup your cheeks before sliding down your neck and moving toward your hands. At your wrists, she brings your hands to her tiny waist. Magenta breaks the kiss, a small strand of saliva keeping you connected as she places her hands on your chest. 
“I’m going to repay you,” She says with a sly smile. She kisses you again as her hands move down to your pants, undoing your belt and pulling your dick out. Magenta’s hand moves slowly down your shaft, making you groan into her kiss. You snake your hands under her shirt, feeling her smooth skin as your hands move up her sides. Blocked by her black bra, your hands reach around her, unlatching it. “Naughty boy,” Magenta whispers as her grip tightens. Magenta uses her other hand to rub the head of your cock, her thumb moving across the tip, becoming covered in a layer of precum. 
You open up the rest of her shirt as she strokes your cock. You cup the underside of one of her tits, shaking it slightly and watching it jiggle as your other hand rubs her thigh. Magenta’s light moans turn you on. As she kisses you again, you pull her closer, feeling the heat coming from her core. Magenta pulls her shirt off and breaks the kiss. Pressing her tits against her chest, you lean forward, kissing her neck as she places her hands on your shoulders. “I can feel your cock twitching.” Magenta coos. She looks down at you, smiling as she pushes your head away. She reaches down, grabs it, and moves her hand along the shaft slowly, “I know you want to be inside me already, but you have to be patient.” She says, getting off you and kneeling. She spreads your legs apart slowly, sneaking in between them. 
Grabbing your cock again, she moves her hand up and down the shaft, smiling as she feels the warmth from it. Watching it leak precum, Magenta leans in and drags her tongue along the head. “Mmm, nice and salty.” She says before taking another lick; this time, Magenta wraps her lips around the head, her tongue swirling around it. You throw your head back and moan. Magetna’s small tongue teases you, going around the tip of your cock, only to stop midway and go in the other direction. Magenta slowly bobs her head, turning it slightly so your cock rubs the inside of her cheek. She pops you out of her mouth for a brief second, “Do you like it?” She says, continuing to stroke your cock.
“What are you two doing?!” Hyun-Jung yells, returning from the bathroom.
“What do you think?” Magenta says before she drags her tongue along the underside of your shaft. “I’m giving our host a nice treat.” Magenta stuffs her mouth with your cock, bobbing her head and turning her complete focus over to you. Hyun-Jung stands there in complete shock as Magenta continues to pleasure you, her tongue coating your cock in a layer of saliva. Feeling your orgasm coming, Magenta focuses on the head, running her tongue back and forth across the tip, making you squirm. Your hips start to move uncontrollably as you near your orgasm; Magenta’s gentle hand tries to keep you still as her tongue laps at your cock.
“Magneta, I’m cumming,” You groan as you buck your hips. Magenta sucks on the head, feeling your warm cum coat her tongue as she milks you by stroking your shaft. Hyun-Jung watches as Magenta’s throat flexes and relaxes as she drinks your cum. She feels a growing wetness in her panties as she watches the scene unfold. Her right-hand moves down her dress, rubbing her folds as she watches Magenta pull away and show you an empty mouth. 
Magenta glances over at Hyun-Jung; seeing her friend getting active, she draws attention to it. “I guess you want some, too, huh, Hyun-Jung,” She says, slapping her face with your limp cock. Hyun-Jung gulps, unable to say a word. “It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything. Just come over here. I’ll even make room for you.” Magenta scoots to the side and waves Hyun-Jung closer. She remains standing in place momentarily, considering her options before eventually moving toward you. She kneels before your, eyeing your cock. “I have just the thing to get this little guy hard again,” Magenta announces before pulling on Hyun-Jung’s dress, getting her tits out. Only now did you see Hyun-Jung hadn’t been wearing a bra. “There we go.” She says with a proud smile on her face. “Now we just do this,” Magenta presses her tits against your cock and pulls Hyun-Jung to do the same. Magenta presses her tits against Hyun-Jung’s, trapping your cock in the middle as they begin to move. You can feel their nipples rub against your cock. Hyun-Jung watches you carefully, listening to your moans. The women feel your cock come back, growing hard between their tits. 
“It’s back,” Magenta says to herself. Hyun-Jung, I’ll let you go first.” Hyun-Jung is taken aback by Magenta’s words. She hadn’t expected her friend to give her the first chance. The pair stand up, with Magenta getting behind Hyun-Jung. She raised the bottom of Hyun-Jung’s dress, revealing her white panties. “Aww, look at you trying to look pure, unnie.” The teasing makes Hyun-Jung blush, and the redness on her face gets stronger as Magenta moves her panties to the side. “Look at this little pussy. Aren’t you a lucky man?” Magenta says as she pushes Hyun-Jung onto you. Magenta helps you and Hyun-Jung along, aligning you with her cunt and pushing her friend onto your cock. 
“O-oh,” Hyu-Jung lets out a staggered moan as she feels your cock enter her. Magenta’s lips on the back of her neck arouse her further, and as you begin to move Hyun-Jung’s voice reigns free, filling the room as you stuff her with your cock. Magenta toys with her friend, squeezing her tits as Hyun-Jung bounces on your cock. You grip Hyun-Jung’s waist, your hands digging into her soft flesh as you pull her down. You nip at the other side of her neck, giving her more pleasure. With the mass of hands and lips touching her Hyun-Jung begins to lose herself to the pleasure, her warm walls squeeze down on your cock. 
“Unnie, it looks like you’re having a lot of fun. Do you like riding him that much?” 
“Mhmm, I-I love it.” Magenta plants her lips on Hyun-Jung’s while continuing to play with her tits. Her fingers trapping Hyun-Jung’s nipples and pulling them taut, making the older woman moan. 
“I love playing with you, unnie. Your tits are so soft.” Magenta whispers into Hyun-Jung’s ear. “You don’t mind if I get a taste, do you?” 
“What?” Hyun-Jung mumbles before feeling Magenta latch onto her tit. She looks down to see her friend suckling on her tit, feeling Magenta’s tongue swirl around her nipple. You do the same, getting her other nipple. Hyun-Jung holds you both to her chest, keeping you in place and becoming a moaning mess. Her cunt holds you tightly, clamping down around your head as she nears her climax. “Shit, I’m cumming.” You squeeze Hyun-Jung; her soft body is perfect for it. Your thrusts continue to speed up, your cock twitching wildly inside her. You bury your cock inside Hyun-Jung, holding her down as your cum paints her walls white. Hyun-Jung cries out as she feels the hot cum rush into her body; she grinds against you taking every drop. 
Magenta watches on happily, eagerly awaiting her turn. She rubs her clit through her panties, whimpering as she has to wait for Hyun-Jung to get off you. 
You kiss Hyun-Jung as you feel her walls squeeze the tip of your cock for more. She returns it, her tongue lazily tracing your lips as you help her off. Hyun-Jung falls back onto the floor, her legs too weak to hold her up. 
Seeing this, Magenta has a lightbulb moment. She crawls over the tired woman, coming face-to-face with Hyun-Jung. Magenta looks over her shoulder to you, raising her ass and arching her back. She shakes it from side to side, telling you to hurry up. You kneel down, holding her tiny waist with one hand while the other moves her panties to the side. Magenta was ready, her cunt slick with her nectar. You can push in with ease, sliding into the deepest parts. Magenta muffled her moans by kissing Hyun-Jung. The older woman could barely return the kiss and let Magenta explore her mouth. You gave Magenta hard thrusts, impaling her. You snuck your hands around her body, squeezing one of her tits and flicking her clit with the other hand. Magenta pushed her ass against you, loving how your cock was ruining her. She held Hyun-Jung’s hands, holding them by the older woman’s head as she forced her tongue into her mouth.  “You’re so tight, Magenta.” You groan. Magenta’s cunt felt like it was tightening around you with every thrust. As you played with her clit, you could feel her tight abs as your forearm rubbed against them. It seemed like she had trained her entire body.
You pull away slowly, holding her waist as you ram your cock into her cunt. Magenta’s moans slowly grow louder despite using Hyun-Jung to silence them. You raise one of your hands high into the air and bring it down on her ass, a deafening clap filling the room. Magenta felt the lingering sting on her ass. Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head as you delivered another strike. Magenta was forced to break her kiss with Hyun-Jung. She began to lap at the older woman’s neck hungrily. “Unnie, I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum!” She cried out, her grip on Hyun-Jung tightening as her walls clamped down on your cock. Magenta pressed her ass against you, making your cock kiss her womb as she came. Your thrusts continued for another moment before you drove it deep into Magenta and filled her cunt with the first shot of cum. You pulled out and stroked your cock, painting her toned back with your cum before falling back.
You all lay on the floor, tired and wasted from the night. The next morning you woke up to the sight of the women holding each other, with Magenta suckling on Hyun-Jung’s tit as she slept. Magenta still had your cum on her back while Hyun-Jung lay in a pool of it.  Hyun-Jung’s dress would be ruined, while Magenta’s clothes were relatively untouched. You got up slowly and shook them both awake. Magenta smiled as she saw the near-naked  Hyun-Jung. “Unnie, last night was fun. We should do it again.” She said with a smile. Magenta looked at you and winked, telling you she wanted more times like last night. 
Hyun-Jung shook her head slowly, “Never again. This hangover is killing me.” She said, not realizing she was half-naked and filled with cum.
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aemondsbabe · 4 months
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Wind's Howling
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summary: sharing a bed & accidental stimulation || you're nursing osferth's injury as the two of you spend a cold night together in an inn, but you feel called to help him in another way as well
pairing: osferth x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, dry humping kind of, kissing, breast/nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex it’s like literally the 800’s sue me, cuddling, osferth whimpering how precious, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.8k
a/n: happy day five of 12 days of smuff!! this one can be read as a continuation of love is patient and kind or as a stand alone! enjoy! also yes, the title is a witcher pun
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @black-dread!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You can hear Osferth let out a soft sigh behind you as you shift yet again in another futile attempt to get comfortable on the thin, lumpy mattress. You sigh too, as you finally settle, only to let out a quiet groan when you realize this position is really no better than the last twenty you tried. 
“Sorry,” you spare a glance over your shoulder as you speak, wincing as another harsh gust of wind blows a cold draft through the room, “I can’t get comfortable enough on this damn thing to sleep.” You say with a defeated sigh. 
“You need not apologize,” the monk murmurs behind you, “Between my shoulder and this cold, sleep eludes me as well.” 
As if on cue, another stinging draft billows through the room, eerily whistling through any cracks it can find. The two of you sigh, defeated — leave it to Uhtred to pick the worst possible inn to stop at, though he had insisted upon it, saying Osferth needed a few days in safety to rest his shoulder and the rest of you needed the opportunity to gather supplies anyway. 
Truthfully, a break was probably a good idea. Ever since the ambush a few days ago, the spirits of your group had been in short supply and members were beginning to bicker and fight amongst themselves. Your poor monk had taken it upon himself to be the peacekeeper, which had only served to cause you more stress as you kept trying to compel him to stay in bed and rest his shoulder. 
You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at the thought of his injury, the memory of him being harshly tugged off his horse in the chaos of the ambush still makes you uneasy; your heart twists in your chest as you think through your list of “what ifs” yet again. 
Almost as if he can sense your thoughts, Osferth bumps the back of your leg with his knee. “Please do not worry yourself, my lady,” he says, a heaviness to his tired voice, “I am fine, we are safe.” 
“How did you know I was thinking about it?” 
“You tense up every time you do.” 
You sigh again before finally turning over to face him, your tired eyes meeting his in the dark room, the only light in the room coming from the full moon outside. 
“Hi,” you murmur after a moment. 
“Hi,” he whispers, the corner of his lips quirking up into a soft smirk. 
“How’s your shoulder?” You ask, shrugging one arm out from underneath the thick wool blanket the two of you share to gingerly run your fingers over his arm, taking extra care in the spots you know are still bruised and sore, “Is it feeling any better?” 
“I think so,” he mutters, flexing it a little, “It aches to move it too much but as long as I am still, it causes me no pain.” 
You nod thoughtfully, silently thanking whatever God there may be that he had escaped relatively unharmed. 
After another moment of silence, you wiggle again on the mattress before letting out a quiet, rueful laugh. “I give up,” you groan, “This mattress is useless.” 
Osferth sighs next to you and shuffles closer, reaching out as far as he can without extending his shoulder to skim his long fingers over your arm as an act of comfort, “I’m sorry, my sweet lady.” 
“I should be the one apologizing,” you murmur, “Without my tossing and turning, perhaps you could find sleep.” 
He breathes a quiet laugh through his nose, “You are not what is keeping me awake,” he says with a sigh, “Between this cold and my shoulder, your restlessness is a blessing.” 
The wind howls outside once more and you see Osferth shiver as another draft of bitter air blows through the room. With a sigh, you shuffle closer to him, practically molding the front of your body to the front of his as your legs slot together under the woolen blanket; your eyes flutter closed as you savor the warmth of having him pressed against you, though the action causes your thin linen shift to ride up nearly to the tops of your thighs as one of his long legs presses between yours. 
After a moment, you find yourself squirming for a much different reason, the discomfort of the mattress quickly slipping from the forefront of your mind as your center begins to throb, making you keenly aware of the way the monk’s warm thigh presses against your bare heat, the thin fabric of his breeches the only thing separating the two of you. 
You stay quiet, opting not to disturb him further as you know sleep is important to the healing process. However, it seems his mind is wandering too because after a moment, your eyes shoot open when you feel his hard length pressing against your hip, only to find him already looking at you. 
“Osferth —,”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” he murmurs softly, a blush visible on his cheeks even in the dim lighting, “I—,” he starts, though you cut him off with a soft kiss, sighing as his lips press against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. 
“You needn’t apologize,” you whisper, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, “In fact, I can think of something that may help us both sleep…” You tease, just barely rutting your hips against his. 
His eyes slip closed at the feeling, a soft, whimpered sigh escaping his lips before he shakes his head. “You’ve already done so much for me, my lady,” Osferth murmurs, his blue eyes meeting yours once more. 
“So let me do this last thing,” you smile, pressing one more sweet kiss against his lips, “Please?” 
Your monk can’t help but smile at your eagerness and nods, making you smile brightly in the darkness of the small room. Gently, you untangle yourself from him before guiding him onto his back, taking care to ensure that he moves his shoulder as little as possible. Finally, you climb atop him, straddling his hips, both of you groaning at the way your wet, warm center presses against his length through his cotton breeches. You’re careful to keep the blankets wrapped over your shoulders as you maneuver on top of him, lifting your hips just enough to free his length. 
You shiver when you feel him press against you, already throbbing in your grasp as you run the head of his cock through your folds, gasping as it bumps against your already aching bud. 
“Please, my lady,” Osferth groans beneath you, his chest already heaving, “You… you feel too good, please.” 
You can’t help but obey him, smirking at his pleas as you position his length at your entrance. “Shhh, sweet monk,” you soothe, moaning as the head of his cock slips inside you, “Let me make you feel good.” 
Osferth whimpers beneath you as you sink down onto his length with a pleased sigh, your walls already squeezing against him. You gasp softly when he presses fully inside you, your hips resting against his as his length fills you completely, leaving no part of you untouched. You wiggle your hips on top of him, grinding your pearl against him with a soft whimper. 
You slowly start moving atop him, though you quickly pick up the pace as one of his hands grips harshly at your waist, the other remains draped across his chest at your insistence, determined to keep his shoulder safe. You bite your lower lip, intending to stay quiet as you know the walls of the old inn must be quite thin, however that gets harder and harder to do as the tip of Osferth’s cock brushes against that sensitive spot within you every time you sink back down onto him. 
“You feel so good,” the monk gasps as he stares up at you, marveling at how you move against him, at the beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks, at the way your breasts bounce beneath the nearly sheer fabric of your simple shift dress, “So beautiful, my sweet lady.” He sighs, his cock twitching against your walls. 
“Osferth,” you whisper through a harsh gasp, “I love you, my precious monk.” You smile when he groans beneath you, his cock throbbing as you continue moving against him. 
“I — Christ,” he gasps, the hand on your hip pushing itself under your shift dress, “I love you too, sweet girl.” He groans, perhaps a bit too loud, as he cups your breast, kneading your soft skin in his palm. 
You gasp loudly at the added sensation, the heat in your belly threatening to boil over. Blessedly, Osferth seems just as done in as you, his hips squirming beneath yours as he tries to stay still. 
“My lady,” he gasps, blue eyes staring up at you more urgently than before, “My lady, I — !” He cuts himself off with a loud moan when you lean forward to press your bud more firmly against him, which only serves to press his length somehow deeper within you as his fingers toy wildly with your nipple. 
“I know,” you nod your head with a gasp, struggling to keep your eyes open, “I know, my sweet monk. It’s okay, please” you moan, your walls clenching hotly around him as your high finally spills over you, igniting every nerve ending with a blinding pleasure, “God, fuck!” You can’t help but squeal, bracing your hands on either side of the monk’s head as you tumble forward, unable to hold yourself up. 
Osferth whispers your name over and over, as if in prayer, before he finally groans loudly, cock twitching wildly within you as he cums, painting your walls with his thick spend. He moans happily as you sink further down against him, mouthing at your nipples through the fabric of your dress. 
After a moment, your high subsides and you open your eyes once more, giggling softly as you lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. With a sigh, you lift yourself off of him before dropping to the bed with a tired groan. You slot yourself against his side and pull the blanket back up from where it had slipped off, one of your legs draped across the monk’s hips. 
Just as you’re about to open your mouth again to ask about his shoulder, a fist pounds on the wall above your heads from the next room, making the two of you gasp. 
“Oi!” Sihtric calls, his gruff voice muffled, “If you don’t stop fucking like rabbits I’ll come in there and strangle the damn monk myself!” 
“Oops,” you whisper to Osferth through a giggle, nuzzling your head against his neck. 
“I would face the wrath of ten vikings to bed you, my lady,” the monk whispers softly before pressing a kiss against the top of your head.
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sunboki · 5 months
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⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING a Christopher Bahng fiction
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💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI
WORD COUNT. 6.6k words
WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, descriptive violence, smoking, fighting, cursing, blood, wounds, drinking, reader gets drunk/passes out
PLAYLIST
AUG'S NOTES. this started as a random blurb while in the bathroom(tmi i know) but i just HAD to make a longer adaptation!! as usual, if you enjoy the fic please feel free to leave feedback & a reblog!ised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~
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SYNOPSIS. A petty robbery leads to deep debt for Chan, a white-eyed demon occupying Hell. So eventually, he finds himself faced with no choice but to go job hunting. The best offer available? A bodyguard gig in the human realm. Oh, and the worst part? Jisung’s here too.
or alternatively :
When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.
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SMUT WARNING. usage of the nickname “bunny” and “good girl”, somewhat hinted size kink, praise, dumbification, barely dubcon (reader gives consent ; nonverbal), creampie, chan cums inside (use protection ya’ll), monsterfucking! basically lmao
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There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.
Or, maybe the demons did too.
Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.
What a funny thought.
Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.
So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?
The thought occurred to Chan at some point, but his head, ringing with the sound of silver coins clattering on glass surfaces, drowned out every ounce of sensibility. Blood, flesh, he was a demon. And right now, he had hell to pay as Lucifer’s underling. No pun intended.
Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.
Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.
A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.
That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.
Raiding his home was an understatement considering they had utterly demolished every inch, not leaving a single fragment remaining in one piece. Granted, he didn’t cry about it. Instead, he lived up to his name, his title.
..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.
Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and he determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.
Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.
Combing a frustrated hand through raven-colored locks, he holds the phone up to his ear, repeatedly snapping his fingers. The girl kneeled between his legs raises up begrudgingly, wiping her mouth and disappearing into his bathroom.
Well there goes a good blowjob.
Yet, finally, a job was proposed.
Multiple, according to the drone of a fumbling assistant. Jobs comprised of one he’d primarily work and occasional hitman gigs on the side.
Catch? The job was located in the human realm. Not impossible, but not as easy as sleuthing in Hell, where common folk were demons and not big-eyed, nosy, mind-your-damn-business-mortals.
The job in question? Babysitting. Specifically for Lucifer's right-hand man, otherwise known as the Devil’s Plaything. And, despite not being a demon, served Lucifer as if he was one. How cute.
Or as the trauma-induced auditor phrased it, “guarding” some girl.
“Guarding” was something he was mildly familiar with, but never a human. Never in the human realm. So when the suggestion was offered, Chan’s first instinct was to reject—remind Hell’s moderator that he wasn’t just a regular, but a demon of impressive status. A white-eyed demon, who, in fact, ranged most powerful of its kind.
His first instinct was also to punch the man working at the register of this putrid smelling burger joint right in the face, maybe frame his head as a part of a collection while he’s at it. Demons are creative like that.
Because being in this situation, nonetheless currently walking around in the human realm he swore to never step foot in has his stomach jarring.
“Chan, look at this! It’s called K-E-T-C-H-U-P, what a funny name!”
Oh. Yeah. The walking headache, Han Jisung. Forgot he’s here too.
Digging through his pockets for spare change, all he could find was a few meager pennie’s as the obnoxious noise of his demon-companion scarfing down a double cheeseburger had Chan’ jaw progressively tightening.
“Um, sir, that’s not enough to pay for-“ Without hesitation, Chan lifted his upper lip with his index, revealing the sharply pointed canines underneath and effectively silencing the apron-clad employee, frantically printing his receipt without another word.
Yes, apparently there are perks of being a hell-spawn.
Although, the burger still tasted like shit. What a shame.
Heading to the location wasn’t all too difficult, being that it was rather easy locating such an enormous property surrounded by tall, black hinged gates. The passcode… was another story.
Lucifer was likely laughing his ass off watching them try figuring this out.
“Okay, It’s probably like 666 or something- JESUS— you guys scare me sometimes.” Clutching a hand to his erratic heart with panic, a pacing Jisung nearly toppled over as his soon-to-be Boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gates slowly opening behind him.
He may not be a Demon, but by how nonchalantly he appeared from thin air, he seemed to gain some attributes over the years.
It didn’t take long for either of them to figure out why the title “Devil’s Plaything” was attached, because the more he toured them around this palace of a house, the more he told of his reasons for hiring them in the first place. Well, more like why Lucifer sent them here.
Easily speaking, his and Jisung’s role would be to protect you at all costs, considering your father’s current predicament (a.k.a coming under investigation for the bodies discovered in Hanuel Park). Not to mention the countless assassins sent on a daily basis, scouring the property for entryways.
Although he’s not surprised by their hesitance. This man, Yoon L/N, was the closest resemblance to the Devil on Earth.
He was terrifying, and coming from a demon, that said a lot.
Chan has to watch his tongue, because he’s not guarding another one of hell’s representatives, a creature of unprecedented rudeness and hatred, he’s guarding a human.
Someone who falls in love and cries, someone who can’t get away with murder when they’re annoyed and go uncharged.
Humans are pitiful. They’re emotional and too trusting and—
You step down the stairs.
They’re pretty and soft and really, really fucking pretty.
The sound of your father clearing his throat rips him from his trance, your trance.
He can practically sense Jisung choking on his laughter.
“Y/n, these are your bodyguards. Bahng, Han, this is Y/n,” He gestures, and Chan notes the gleaming watch on his wrist.
Best guess that thing’s averaging $70,000. Not to mention that this entire house, though naked to the human eye, is laced in traps.
Whether it’s the more hollow wooden plank on the floor that triggers some alarm or the multitude of switches under your kitchen’s island, the security system is certainly intact, and for good reason.
However, you couldn't have made Yoon L/n’s actions look more hypocritical, appearing so opposingly sweet.
“Nice to meet you,” You hold out a hand.
He doesn’t miss the half-smile you give him.
Shit. Don’t look at him like that.
Introducing themselves, you momentarily slip past, and in your stead, your father beckons either of them to the side.
“I’ll only say this once,” Yoon smiles, but it’s a leery smile, one that causes his gums to gradually show, like it’d belong to a murderer, a serial killer of some kind.
Fitting.
“Get her into danger, hurt her, or disobey my orders under any circumstances and I kill you, understood?”
And even though at the snap of a finger Chan could have this man drop dead, he believed him, both simultaneously nodding their heads without complaint.
Meeting eyes with Jisung, a common denominator sits heavy between them, most likely the first thing they’ve whole-heartedly agreed on this entire time.
This is gonna be one hell of a job.
.. .
District 9’s nightclubs are always a bust. If you’re looking for a drink without it being laced you might as well give up, and the only thing that keeps a person from getting swept away in the expansive sea of high heels, go-go boots, and awkward teenagers that miraculously managed to get past the bouncer is a lone, blinking red sign that reads “OUT”.
The first time you ever came here you never thought you’d be so relieved to open a squealing door.
Leaning against the side of the brick building sits the girl responsible for an entourage of drunk-calls and random texts of her location when she sneaks out.
Her moth-eaten sneakers are pulled up to her chest, bleached hair messily arranged into a spiky up-do while she aimlessly scrolls on her phone. Although you know she’s noticed you by now.
“I feel like..” She sighs, black mascara smudged beneath her waterline. “I should’ve taken that Vodka shot.”
You wrinkle your nose, dropping down on her left.
It’s fairly easy conversing with Ha-joon, a girl who didn’t require a reaction or a response, who didn’t talk much but had a whole pocketful of opinions. And you listened.
She swivels her head ever so slightly toward you.
“Do you think drinking a laced shot will make my life more interesting?” Her remark scarily nonchalant, you chuckle, snatching the joint from between her thumb and index and tossing it against the neighboring business’ wall in front of you.
Unfazed, she rises to her feet, pulling a Marlboro pack from her back pocket, palm cupping the lighter’s flickering flame.
“If you count fentanyl as a good time, then sure,” Lifting your chin to cock a sarcastic brow, she rolls her eyes before abruptly snapping her fingers, remembering. The sound ricochets off trash bags stashed at the furthest end of this deserted alleyway.
“You said your Mafia-daddy hired new bodyguards?”
Ah, you forgot you mentioned that.
Don’t mind the “Mafia-daddy” part.
Nodding, there’s a beat of stillness before she lightly nudges your calf with her shoe, Ha-joon’s sign for you to list some sort of detailed description for her to piece together.
This happens every time you meet somebody new. Her little guessing game before the first impression, apparently.
And so you do, spilling information to the best of your capabilities from the fifteen seconds you met them. Their hair, height, eyes (you recall Han’s especially, huge and hypnotizing like black-holes), clothing, and all the details your jumbled brain can pour out to your overly eager, easily bored best friend.
“So this Chan guy..”
One clever glance and you’re already predicting her next words.
“Does he have a big nose?” Smirk growing the darker your cheeks redden, you pathetically groan, burying your face in your hands.
Of course she’s cornered you, because you can’t deny your yes of an answer without evidently lying and digging further into your self-made rabbit hole.
Leave it to Ha-joon to secretly slip the raunchiest sentence you'll hear all night.
Smugness gradually dissipating, the barely-blonde shuffles back down, phone screen displaying countless messages you don't ask about.
Like earlier, Ha-joon doesn’t talk much, but she has a lot to say. Additionally, if she doesn’t bring it up herself, don’t mention it.
Years by her side taught you that.
“They’re only gonna get you in trouble, I have a feeling,” She murmurs prior to taking a long drag of her cigarette, lipstick shade perfectly contrasting with the soaring puff of smoke sifting from her mouth and nose upon exhaling.
She’s always been on the rougher side. Spontaneously rough, the type that would impulsively send you a text she’s going backpacking tomorrow despite an exam scheduled, the type that would continuously run away on a whim.
In essence, everyone on campus has some sort of crush on her (apart from yourself, obviously), whether it comes down to her rumbling persona or how much of a hard-core lesbian she is, you’re not sure.
You click your tongue, glaring at her flippantly.
“And that’s not doing you any better.” Musing in regards to her bad habits, she laughs lowly, low-rise jeans bagging down by her ankles while bending closer.
Your hands brace in anticipation, coughing when she blows a heavy smoke plume right in your face.
You choke a giggle, shoving her senselessly giggling frame.
“The only thing I’m letting do me is that waitress in there,” Painted nails pointing to the entrance while making utterly obscene gestures, you dramatically gag.
Well, until she spins on her heel, fetching a plastic bag holding two bottles of Cass beer from behind a metal trash can.
You tilt your head, the girl wordlessly cracking one open with her teeth and the other using the junction of her shoulder.
‘A Ha-joon thing’, you think as she hands you a glass, chilled exterior sending an unwelcoming wave of shivers throughout your body.
Your initial response is to decline, but her index to your lips shushes your reasons.
“I know you don’t drink often, but just a few sips just this once, please?” Batting invisible puppy-dog eyes, you sigh, gulping down a haphazard swig.
Last time you had genuinely gotten drunk was back in junior year of high school, all the kids swarmed in a rando’s basement, acting appropriately irresponsible for your age.
You recall your fat crush on Hwang Hyunjin (before realizing he was actually in a relationship) being the main component in getting so drunk that you blacked out, though you’re sure the highly unflattering pictures Ha-joon took would jog your memory.
Yet just a few sips was an understatement, something you should’ve known. Because conversation turns into more conversation, funny conversation, deep conversation while your wrist unconsciously lifts to your mouth till your friend transforms into nothing but a blurry figure illuminated by the moon.
And you wonder, as you feel yourself tilt further and further toward the cement below, if Ha-joon will snap unflattering pictures of this moment too, of stupid decisions leading to stupid consequences.
Most likely.
.. .
"Mmm." You mumble, face stuffed into his sleeve as Chan carries you from the alleyway, ushering a loopy Ha-joon into a taxi with a short bow.
Clad in his work attire primarily made up of black elements, he carefully places you in the back seat of the SUV and pulls off his dark coat to wrap around your body, ensuring you're fully swaddled to secure as much warmth as possible from the biting cold.
"We're going home, so hang on just a bit longer for me." The man assures, patting your head lightly before sliding into the driver's seat and pressing his foot to the gas.
Han, who was sitting in the back beside you while Chan drove, took experimental peeks at the pink-hue decorating your cheeks (evidence that you'd be drunk) to your puffy lips pursed in a pout.
He internally squeals, fiddling with his phone in his pocket, unveiled demon tail practically wagging with glee.
"Hyung, can I? Pleasee Hyung- just one photo she looks so cute–“
“No." The older of them responds sternly, one hand clutching the steering wheel.
As much as he normally wouldn’t care, this was his- their first actual order in fulfilling their duties, and Chan wasn’t willing to pay the price of fucking up Yoon’s guidelines.
His companion huffs, deflating by your side as he directs a childish frown at Chan in the mirror, only met with an equally stern gaze reading "no nonsense".
Chan had always been one to take his job seriously, not that Han didn't, he just liked having a little bit of fun jumping from side to side across those permanent marker drawn lines.
In actuality, if it weren't for his friend, Han would've never gotten the job in the first place.
Stark glowing of your houses’ lights lining the driveway ripped away his thought process, quickly intervening when your door opened.
"I can carry her," He claims, arms crossed while the older bodyguard simply cocks a brow, an action that shouldn't have Jisung shying away like he was.
There's an immense staring contest until Chan releases a hefty sigh, gesturing for Jisung to go ahead.
"If you drop her, I kill you, then myself."
This earns a giggle while Han unbuckles your seatbelt, softly cooing with you lying in his arms.
You're cute, very cute in fact.
Very off limits, in fact, he reminds himself, grip tightening the creepier he pictures your father—and it’s the adorable scrunch of your nose in discomfort that reminds him of his strength, immediately relaxing his hold.
Like Chan said, any wrong moves and they're both off the radar in seconds. Business.
The entirety of it all was a bit hilarious considering how things were when you'd first been introduced to the two, not appearing to be the type to get drunk like this, to get drunk at all in a secluded area next to some nightclub.
Chan wasn’t wrong when he said it’s always a surprise with clients.
Well, he was referring to his hitman job then, but it's still applicable in this situation, right?
…Right?
Forget it.
Slowly, oh so slowly your eyes peel open, instantly noticing the familiar smell and interior that definitely wasn't where you'd been five minutes ago with Ha-joon.
Ah. There he is.
Chan.
Peering over where you're tucked in bed, dressed in pajamas.
Hold on, pajamas?
Scrambling up and simultaneously wincing from the throbbing headache settling a dull ring in your ears, you send him an incredulous stare, face incessantly warming the longer you think about it.
Hangovers provide another of the many reasons why you don’t drink anymore, because this hellish predicament led to a single hellish explanation you certainly didn’t want to face.
"You... My clothes.." Stumbling over how to phrase it, you suppress a scowl watching the ghost of a grin make its way on his lips. Maybe you're imagining it.
One of his veiny hands reaches up to cover his eyes, leaving you to instead infatuate upon plush lips moving when he speaks.
"My job description, along with the papers you read and signed before I was hired gave me consent, but whatever I see is strictly confidential between you and I."
Gathering your sanity, you scoff, humiliation and embarrassment flooding your system at an alarming rate.
Flopping back onto the bed, you slam a pillow over your face, muttering a "strictly confidential my ass" that he had to have heard from the low laugh uttered in reply.
He stalks over, fingertip tapping the water you hadn’t noticed sitting atop your nightstand.
Cautiously stealing a glimpse out from your pillow to see where he distanced himself across the room, you finish the cup in a swift motion, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.
“You huma- You aren’t good with your alcohol, are you?” He starts, quite entertained witnessing your annoyed gaze, one which very noticeably doesn’t stay focused on his eyes.
Sucking your teeth, you slouch, mirroring his crossed arms.
You’re fine with playing feisty, and by the awfully attractive way he’s cocking his head, he’s also willing to join this biting game.
“And what makes you think that?”
“Because I’m never passed out and in need of someone to call for me when I go drinking.”
At this you practically hiss, grasping any futile chance to retaliate to no avail.
Opposed to his teasing nature, he drags a stool to your bedside, insisting you drink more.
Even more opposing, a gentle hand presses to your forehead, checking that you haven't contracted a fever.
To say your heartbeat pounded didn’t credit the surprise to its full extent, and thank whatever God above the experience only lasted a few more seconds, giving you plenty of time to freshen your haywire sensibility and brush your teeth before any more soul-sucking Chan run-ins continued.
You should’ve known better than to think he’d truly leave you be though, said soul-sucking bodyguard currently propped against the bathroom’s door frame.
“How did you get into this anyway? Y’know, bodyguard stuff..” You begin to ask, voice muffled from the toothbrush deterring any fully audible sentence.
He cocks an eyebrow.
“I have my ways.”
“Your ways?”
Within split seconds he’s right next to you, making rather intentional eye contact through the mirror.
You inhale sharply.
“Look, sweetness, my job as your bodyguard is to keep you safe,” He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “And if I tell you, I can’t guarantee that.”
There are three things you realized in that moment.
One, Chan is so, so close.
Two, he has an unfairly gorgeous face.
And three, your mouth is smeared with toothpaste.
Great.
You’d like to admit the first night of meeting these new bodyguards, more specifically Chan, went as normal and as non-Ha-joon-influenced as possible, but this effect on you causing your bloodstream to erupt in a hormonal frenzy of attraction told you the story had just begun.
.. .
"Jisung. Hold. Still! Keep moving and this wand is going in your eyeball."
Three weeks in and one thing after another has lead you closer and closer with either of them, whether it's convincing Jisung to go on ice cream runs (where Chan always ends up tagging along) or attempting to remain focused while they help you study (more like trying not to laugh at Jisung and averting your eyes off of Chan’s biceps in that muscle-shirt of his), the three of you are practically conjoined at the hip, and not on bodyguard standards.
"Okay okay! I was itchy. Can you move the piece of hair by my eyebrow?" He whines, grasping an apologetic squeeze on your waist while you focus in his lap.
You’re currently brushing mascara through his unfairly long lashes, but if anyone saw this without knowing the situation, chaos would likely unfold.
Although for you and Jisung, it's your average Friday night spent watching the weekly scary movie he’d decided on, Insidious. One he’d been commenting on for the past thirty minutes or so about how the “representation of demon’s was wrong” while you absentmindedly agreed, looping your index around the strand before abruptly stopping.
Residing slightly above his temple lay a scar, a decently sized scar at that.
Strangely enough, it's circular, like some type of horn or something had been there at some point. Maybe a biking incident?
"Ji?”
The boy's eyes drift up to you.
"What's this scar?"
Below you, he freezes, frantically thinking up the best excuse.
Lots of options, not a lot of time to decide.
"Ah.. that? When I was younger, I developed a weird kind of bump there, 'had it removed." And thankfully, you grunt a response, resorting back to applying his makeup.
Truth be told, those scars (another you hadn't seen yet) were his old horns, forced to be removed in order to initially land this job.
It still sends shivers down his spine thinking about when they had first been cut off, the recovery process resembling something out of nightmares.
Trust, the headaches were awful.
Chan, on the other hand, could keep his, considering he had the ability to conceal them on command. For Jisung, an inferior red-eyed demon with a few years beneath him and in such desperate need for income, chose the painful way through. As for his tail, that was luckily simple to hide (much to his pleasure).
Nevertheless, you could confidently say that your test-subject could easily land a modeling career after your makeover, and by the way he kept staring at the mirror, he seemed equally as enamored as you.
Well, that’s before a jumpscare leaps upon the screen and either of you shoot up, your clumsy companion whacking himself in the face with the mirror.
Staving your giggles, you try soothing the boy; you really do, but the uncannily gory scene that decorates the screen has you cringing back, and when you look at Jisung, expecting to find him cowering, your blood runs cold.
His lips are parted, but the only thing your horrified eyes are drawn to are the hooked canines peeking there. Not to mention his eyes.
Ghastly crimson, glowing.
Except when you breathe in an unsteady gasp, his head snaps to you, sudden facade appearing unaltered, like you hadn't seen something borderline terrifying.
Softly pulling your face close to him despite the screaming instinct to flee, he observes your bewildered expression, brows taut with concern.
“Y/n?”
Sweet tone contradicting, you immediately double backward toward your bedroom door, awkwardly honing the “I’m going to bed” excuse in hopes that suffices for the night.
Frenziedly closing the door, you determine rather quickly you don’t plan to go to sleep. Not that you think you could, but because this discovery isn’t normal.
None of this is normal.
How they found your location back at the alley despite Ha-joon never contacting anyone, how you “coincidentally” walked in on Chan “washing” his hands despite the water running red. Oh and you can’t forget about the rag left behind, putrid stench characteristic to a specific substance.
Blood.
You weren’t stupid. No father disappears the majority of the year on so-called “business trips” only to come back with new cuts and scratches he makes a sorry effort denying, and no daughter of his has literal bodyguards (yet you’re not sure they’re even official bodyguards thanks to your suspicions) glued to her side 24/7.
He does something dangerous, you know without doubt. But according to this hunch of yours, your father may not be the only one tied up in illegal madness.
.. .
Slipping into the car unknown to them was far easier than you anticipated.
You didn't plan on sneaking in in the first place, sure, but upon overhearing their hushed conversation regarding some type of “target”, you assumed whatever topic they were discussing may answer a select few of your billions of burning questions.
So, crouched in the floorboard of the backseat, you try muting your breathing, noting the clutter of metal sounding from your left, whatever responsible assumed to be shoved in the trunk.
Weapons. No mistaking it.
Your discovery is short-lived however, and you flatten yourself the best you can as Han twists around in his seat to grab something, already thirty minutes into your nearly secret mission.
Shit.
His shocked scream tells you enough.
Chan is fuming.
"Jisung, you told me she was asleep. So care to explain why the fuck she's in the back of the car?"
Han frantically flails. "For the record I told you she was lying down–”
"I. Don't. Care! She's not supposed to be here and all that matters right now is that she's at home and in bed, understood?"
As Jisung's lips pull into a tight line and Chan cranks the gear shift into drive, you glance around, a sudden–though risky–idea coming to mind.
"Hey, I could always tag along?"
"No!" They both shout in unison, heads jerking back to face you as if you suggested driving off a cliff.
That sounded much better in your head anyway.
Well there goes that.
Or so you thought.
Because unfortunately for them, wherever needed them needed them urgently, and through many clearly vocalized “she is staying in the car”’s, you weren’t driven home after all.
Fluorescent green lights cast an eerie glow across the perimeter, the location gnawing at your gut. An equestrian center by exterior, though there’s something else.
Wrong. You can’t explain it, but this place is wrong.
Discreetly unloading the guns, you skin crawls observing Chan messily stuff bullets into the magazine of a M240, the mere size of the thing setting your nerves ablaze. And as rightful asking questions seems, you can’t.
That feeling from earlier glues your mouth shut, like if you spoke too loudly, someone, something, would find you.
Thick foliage lay highlighted by your headlights, paving depth into sequential darkness.
You squint, zoning in on a small expanse of branches ajar. An ideal hiding spot.
Wait.
Bright flashes of iron spur your legs into motion, the switchblade cleaning slicing your wrist while mid-duck.
It forks into the car’s interior where the trunk had been opened, your cry of pain muffled by Jisung who basically throws himself inside a stall with you, the stomping of horse’s hooves muting your ragged breathing.
Firing belonging to none other than the machine gun Chan had been wielding pierces the air outside as either of you stay pressed to the stable wall, the pad of footsteps drawing nearer, causing your eyes to squeeze shut.
This is it. You’re going to die.
Much to your relief, it’s Chan, tactical holsters slightly torn, sweat beading his forehead.
The two share a look, remaining silent before delivering an eventual, affirming nod.
Short-lived.
An additional attacker sifts from the shadows, facial expression ushering no other logic than to kill.
Manic eyes, estranged eyes.
The older bodyguard spins, successfully blocking the first hit. Supplies are scattered everywhere, horses beginning to shift uncomfortably.
The perpetrator is faster, smaller, and lands a decent punch into his abdomen. However, the attack is futile, and just before he can stake his knife into Chan’s leg does the bigger man utilize his own weapon, ammunition positively bludgeoning every square inch of the assailant in baited seconds.
You understand why machine guns are strictly used for long range now.
Immediately, soft numbness floods your senses due to Han’s hands covering your eyes and ears, and you sit there for a while, blocked from the grotesque view of impalpable violence being enacted right before you.
You’d forgotten you were huddled together on the other side of the wall, too horrifically immersed.
It's strange. So much is strange.
These two men that you've grown effortlessly close to, grown effortlessly friends with, murder. Defensively in this case, yes, but they hadn’t brought those guns by chance, they brought them by intention.
Not just a twisted hobby like dissecting animals or something along those lines, but murder.
You’re sure they have their reasons, but it's difficult even imagining it. People who are extremely gentle when with you, responsible for such doings.
Talk about a duality.
The faint clatter of gun shells rattling against the marble flooring earns a subtle flinch, Jisung's hands cupping closer to your skin.
Then you smell it, what he'd warned you of no matter the cleanliness of the job.
A metallic, burning scent of blood, causing your nose to burn and your throat to grow increasingly dry.
Your stomach churns.
"You don't forget that smell" Chan had said before leaving the vehicle, and you knew what he was referring to now.
Putrid reek of rot and gunpowder beckon your lungs into fight or flight, but you remain still, ignoring the sharp sting of your wrist, bubbling blood dripping down your arm and onto the floor below, right atop your shoe.
Faint falling of bullet shells put an end to the fighting, then you’re blindly directed out the door without so much as a glance behind you. For your own good, you assume.
Hell, you’re not certain they’ll be much left of the bodies after Chan’s wrath.
As for right now, your top priority is your wrist. Swollen, skin tainted a grueling red shade.
Speeding home, you find yourself blurily recalling events, though all the little details simply swirl into strange shapes.
Shock is what it’s called. That state of monotonous wandering, occurrence too unfamiliar to take in, senses turning off. A coping mechanism of some sort.
Blearily you see the two men, talking, stepping out of the room, grabbing medical supplies. Like you’re in a time warp, dreaming. No pain, hurt.
On the other hand, your bodyguards were frantic, spewing curses and scouring the household for proper first aid materials.
Meanwhile, Chan was finally wrapping your wound in the bandages Jisung spotted, blinking madly in hopes his fogging headspace eased up.
Demons and wounds were not a good combination. Especially not human wounds.
Uncontrollable urges instructed him to tear you apart right this minute, do something, anything to quench that inexplicably demanding thirst.
Vulnerable, easy prey. His thoughts chanted, forcing him to step out of the room for a moment to where Jisung perched, close-pin fastened on his nose to block the mouth-watering smell.
“I’m losing my fucking mind,” He heaves, carding stressed fingers through matted hair.
“What, a little blood getting to a white-eyed demon?” His companion muses, hastily dodging Chan’s swinging fist. Immune to his threats.
It’s obvious to Jisung that’s only half of the story, but he’ll wait for his superior to admit it himself.
“It’s not just the blood,” He inhales deeply, gratefully accepting the water Han offered. “It’s her.”
Go figure.
To be honest, Jisung wasn’t good at pretending.
Well, in terms of lying he was a natural (a given, after all), but pretending he hadn’t caught onto his friend’s enormous attraction to you was technically impossible.
Quite surprising though, to think such an arrogant demon would’ve ended up like this.
Susceptible, willing. For a human.
Who would’ve thought.
.. .
It’s nothing short of a roller coaster regaining your stable consciousness. Chest wracking, world spinning. You’re situated in bed, injury carefully wrapped(though you can’t recall by who).
The doorknob rattles, and in walks Chan, except, you don’t feel happy, relieved.
Scared. You feel extremely scared.
“What- What are you?” Waver revealing your anxiousness, you curse the subtle tremble.
He smiles.
“Aren’t you a perceptive little one,” His voice dips lower, and as he edges closer, you find yourself pressing further into the pillow behind your head.
“I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, so I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his curls, two perfectly placed horns residing there.
“We’re demons. He and I are different species, but both demons.”
Demons.
Demons.
Instantaneously, a tidal wave or realization crashes salty water into your lungs, expertly piecing your observations together. Red eyes, horn-like scars.
How had you not caught on earlier?
Momentarily, you meet his eyes. Still brown, although you wonder how deep of a red they’d stain, glaze over stunning vermillion or dusky cinnamon tones.
“Species?”
He hums.
“Red-eyed are the best at persuasion, that’s Jisung. I’m a white-eyed demon.”
So neither crimson nor cinnamon, you decide. Perhaps pale, opal color.
“White-eyed demons are usually Satan’s lap dogs, but what lots of people don’t know,” You crane forward to hear his next words, and he leans in as well. “Is that we’re also the most desired species, the most lustful.”
Lustful.
The words don’t truly sink in, and by the time they do, it’s impossible to rip the mischievous look from his eyes.
"What’s that supposed to mean.." You grumble, avoid his darkening stare.
A subtle tap on your thigh has your attention immediately shfiting, your entire body instinctively jolting.
"You want me to show you?" He begins with a laugh, a low, husky laugh that has your stomach tying knots. Not the usual, squeaky laugh, but one that's different, very different. "But if you say yes, I’m sure no one else can satisfy you the way I can."
Your expression pinches with annoyance, a bit offed by his sudden cockiness.
Granted, he looks heaven-sent despite being a demon, and you doubt he'd be any different in bed, but c'mon now, you have a right to be suspicious.
"And how're you so sure of that?" Leaning back on your arms where he sits in front of you, you fixate on the way kinky locks perfectly line the crown of his head, one particularly messy strand tipping over to linger above chocolate pools for eyes.
"Sweetness, Jisung are I are carved out of sin, there's not a particle in our body not built to fuck."
God. Hearing "fuck" come out of his mouth shouldn't have been that attractive. Chan had always been well-mannered, well-spoken, so to hear him say something vulgar for the first time, nonetheless "fuck", effected you more than you'd like to admit.
Slowly, oh so slowly he crawls on the bed, kind tip of his head betraying sinful intent.
“You want this?” He whispers, and your arms immediately wrap around his neck, tugging him into your lips fervently, needily, with a short nod of approval between sighs and stifled groans.
Your wrist aches, but from how heated this kiss is becoming, that matter is the least of your problems.
He feels like fire, tastes like it, nectarine on your tongue.
You waste nimble time undressing, suppressing a high-pitched mewl the longer he sucks deep purple love bites into your neck and down your collarbones, likely to be bruised tomorrow.
He’s careful, learning your body, your sounds. Touch light as a feather, not enough.
He’s big, that’s a given. Head red and angry with thick beads of precum apparent, you can’t possibly think straight, his name the only sensible word falling off your swollen lips.
Chan Chan Chan.
Brows knitting as his fat head bumps your entrance, you murmur pleas, practically delusional on his pleasure, his love.
Most desired, you understand what he meant by that.
“Feel good? Yeah? That's a good girl."
You can feel your entire body keen at the praise, utterly blissful from how amazing he was making you feel.
The stretch of his fat cock has your common-sense threading dangerously thin, head falling back, fingernails raking his back. Delirious.
When he actually started moving? Yeah, you’re convinced you paid a visit to cloud nine, fucked-out brain recognizing only the squelch of your bodies connecting and the squeaky, absolutely desperate sounds he’s pulling from your throat.
Not to mention his voice, accent thickening tremendously the longer he ruined your drooling cunt.
His, his, his.
"Shit- you feel fuckin' divine," He kissed the sweaty skin of your calf hiked over his shoulder, ankle held by a strong hand while the other occupied your hip, squeezing and kneading with each heavy thrust.
Chan wasn't lying about being carved out of sin, fucking like an absolute animal to the point tears began welling in your eyes, overstimulated and euphoric beyond belief as your hands shakily reach upward.
Obediently, he lowers himself, letting you hold his face for some sense of security while feeling so vulnerable.
You pathetically search his eyes, head thrown back after one particular roll of his hips that earns a rumbling moan from the man.
Each time he bottoms out it feels like you're losing it, rubbing that gummy spot that makes your heels dig into his shoulders and your moans transform into high-pitched cries, shuddering.
"Channie- Oh fuck Channie- I can't It's too much-"
Practically gasping for air to ease the buzzing fuzziness blinding you, you cherish the equally mind-numbing kiss he soothes, pressure in your lower tummy building and building at a flying pace.
"Yes you can, bunny. 'Need to cum? C'mon, cum for me, 'atta girl." He tuts, slowing himself down with each squeeze of your cunt signaling your approaching release.
Torturous.
Nothing like this, never in all his life had he felt something like this. So delicate and fragile as you look up at him, glossy dolly eyes far too tempting.
At this point it was an obligation to stuff your pussy full.
Rolling your puffy nub in tight circles, your thighs twitch, gripping the pillow behind your head like a vice as the sharp knot in your stomach finally snaps and a near pornographic sound rips from your throat, back arching off the bed.
The sight of you has his eyes nearly rolling back, so ruined and angel-like. You're a white rose in a field of wilting grasses. Bloomed in his ill-fated fingertips.
His pants stifle, big hands holding the back of your thighs spread for him. His pace stutters, and with a gritted whine of your name he slams his hips, painting your aching cunt white.
The last thing he anticipated visiting the human realm was to find himself in this situation.
And whether he liked to admit it or not, if the Devil had your father wrapped around his finger, you had him tied up without a chance of escape.
So while you both scrambled to clean up your evidence and not fall over your own feet hearing Jisung clumsily drop a clattering frying pan in the kitchen, he thinks, if only for a second, he’d be okay with it.
Being yours, that is.
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FIC TAGLIST. @y-ur--i @atinism @darknova2319 @producedbyhanjisung @knightoftime21 @leonswifesstuff
sunboki, may 2022 ©
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okchijt · 20 days
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hii! could u separate headcanons of Yandere! Alastor and Vox x Male Overlord! Reader who never smiles (very rarely) , isn't very chatty and doesn't really like dance and sing?
Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! Decided to write this as soon as it came cause I finished the show a few weeks ago and still have the brainrot. The request asks for a male reader and the title also says it, but you can easily read it as gender-neutral as well since I don't think that what I write is that gender-specific to the request to matter aside from like two gender-specific words I use but you can easily ignore them if you want. And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!🩷
Yandere Alastor x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons
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📻 Smilling is Alastor's whole thing, and even though he doesn't care if others smile or not, but as his Darling, he seems to care quite a lot! He's not that vocal about it though, only making a slight comment here and there: "You're never fully dressed without a smile!" or "A smile makes all the difference!" All to try and make you smile more. I imagine he says the same speech he did to Charlie, that a smile can be anything you want it to be and the effect it has on others.
📻 When all else fails he'd use his wits and puns to get a smile out of you, and when you finally do smile on occasion Alastor is over the moon. It's a huge success in his book, he'd immediately praise how lovely that smile looks on your face and he'd pat your head or back approvingly as well.
📻 Since you're on Overlord yourself Alastor feels nothing but respect for you. If you were a simple sinner he'd feel superior despite you being his Darling. But in this case, you're on the same level if not stronger than him so that just gives him more of a reason to make you smile, anything to get your approval, it's the only one he needs or cares for anyway. In this case, you letting him stay by your side only fuels his ego because it's a pleasure only he gets to have and no one else. You're his and he has no intentions of sharing you with anyone, he's fiercely protective and possessive over you and that includes your smile. Only he gets to see and experience your purest form, sinners would rather make a deal than die by his hand just because they saw something they shouldn't.
📻 Alastor is more than fine with having a non-chatty Darling, he doesn't speak unless he has to so he can relate to you. That said, he's only okay with it when you're quiet to everyone else but him. After all, he's only this close to you so shouldn't he earn the pleasure of hearing your voice? He'd push you for a conversation sometimes, asking you questions or just string up a conversation to the point where you're forced to respond. The longer you keep quiet the more irritated and persistent he'll become, so it's better to start sooner or later if you don't want to see Alastor slowly lose himself.
📻 Although there's no official answer to whether Alastor likes to sing or dance, I have my personal thoughts on that so I'll use them here. I think Alastor likes dancing, with a specific person that is, that being you. You won't catch him on the dancefloor with anyone but you. Though because you ain't that much of a dancer, and unlike the smile thing Alastor doesn't really mind. He is forceful with everyone else as we saw in the show, but as his Darling and fellow Overlord, he has too much respect for you to push you to do something against your will. Though if you would ever agree to dance with him, he'd be really respectful and make sure you enjoy yourself so that he'll have a chance at another dance next time. Also, you always only dance to jazz or swing music, that's one thing Alastor will always put his foot down on.
📻 Singing is the second thing Alastor would take the most seriously after smiling when it comes to his Darling. Singing is one of those things that lets you express yourself, you can show any emotion by it. Even though Alastor had like four songs in the show, I feel like he only sings when he has to, always to make himself look good or to be on the winning side. So I feel like Alastor would be a little disappointed if you chose to solve problems like a normal person instead of having a rap battle with someone. Though I feel like that's a subject he won't push on about too much despite his feelings, he'll only allude to it from time to time.
📻 Overall, the only issue Alastor would have with a Darling like that is him not smiling, but that's about it. It's the only thing he'd be aggressively vocal about and sometimes the singing one. Otherwise, he tolerates everything else about you. All Alastor needs is to have you all to himself and if it means he's the only one to witness you do any of those stuff in private, how can he complain? He much rather prefers that scenario anyway, you're his after all.
Yandere Vox x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons
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📺 Unlike Alastor, Vox doesn't put that much importance on smiling like his rival, but he still views it as useful. He's a public-based Overlord, so a smile is always important to have when trying to sell his brand. You can be a part of the Vee's or not, you're still an Overlord that is either on his level or stronger, so Vox is bewildered how you don't even try to smile when talking to those below you to win them over.
📺 He'd try to explain to you how much more influence and power you could have with a smile alone: "Smile, and they'll know who's in charge here!'' or ''It's the best way to win the public's adoration!'' He just wants you to present yourself the same way he does. He'd be really disappointed if you continued to refuse his idea, but once you smiled at something he said in private, it made him stop and think. It made him realize that something so alluring should be for his eyes only, he should be the only one to enjoy such a sight and no one else. He'd always whisper sweet nothing into your ear whenever he catches you smiling, hoping it'll encourage you to smile more. It fuels him and he'd do anything to get you to smile like that again for him.
📺 As a fellow Overlord, he respects you a ton, especially if you're a part of the Vee's with him. Because you're so different from the typical Overlord he surrounds himself with, he's much more wary of how he approaches you in fear of setting you off. He wants you to adore him the same way he does you and he'll try to achieve that by treating you like the King you are. Anything you say goes and even when he tries to push some issues forward, as his Darling you're the only one that can shut him down.
📺 Though Vox would prefer if you were a bit more chatty for the sake of the brand and all that, he won't really say anything to you about it. Your presence is enough to either win other sinners over or scare all the threats away. Kinda like Alastor, in private Vox will be very chatty with you, you're his Darling so he only feels safe enough with you to spill all of his thoughts out. But unlike his rival, Vox won't push or force you to respond, he's more than okay with you just being silent as he talks, it's therapeutic in a way. Though he'd always encourage you to talk some more if you do eventually say something, your voice just makes him so happy. He'll stop whatever he was doing just to focus all of his attention on you as you talk, but if you stop that's okay, he's already satisfied to hear his Darling talk even if just a little.
📺 Vox ain't that much of a dancer, he's pretty stiff actually, so he's both glad and bothered by the fact that you aren't. Good for him cause you don't pressure or force him to do something he knows he's bad at and embarrass himself in front of you, unlike a certain moth. But at the same time, he'd want to see you dance, he wouldn't care how good you would be at it, you're his Darling so he'd still think you're brilliant regardless! He won't ever push you to do it though, taking how he feels about it he won't force you into something he knows he wouldn't like doing himself.
📺 Singing is what Vox makes up for not being able to dance, he's a good singer and he knows it, though you're the only one who he'd sing to willingly. He'll sing to you in private all the time, wanting to charm you and make you weak for him just like how weak he is for you. But it's the same thing as with dancing, he would love to hear you sing for him, about anything really, but again, he won't force you to do it. Sometimes he'd sing a song that requires a duet to see if you'll budge. Unfortunately for him, you don't, but he won't say anything, he adores you regardless.
📺 Seems like Vox shares a similar issue with his rival, his one problem is you not wanting to smile more. Outside of that he sometimes gently tries to persuade you into singing or smiling for him, but won't push the issue onward if he faces rejection for his request. Vox is more than satisfied knowing you'd sometimes budge in private for him, that's all he really needs and craves really. Him being the only one to witness his Darling doing any of those things makes his ego only grow, because it's his privilege alone and no one else's. And it'll stay that way no matter what.
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jellazticious · 3 months
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bing bong bootleg SS au
very long ramble under the C
stuff are subjected to change
The working title isn't solidified but I'm leaning on either Candy Castle or Pastry Castle
Tho I think I'm gonna go for pastry cuz it has the same amount of letters as castle much like pizza and tower have the same number too
The tower is a gingerbread castle. According to a friend of mine (It's Beefy, it's always Beefy go follow him) that Hispanics love their bakeries and yeah, I guess that makes sense. Not only do I have a theme based on the protag's culture but also the theme gets narrowed down to just baked sweets. Candy in general is too broad, I would die figuring out how to put every kind of sweet in it, and if I did it's gonna be really cluttered hooboy
Noise is called Theo because that's Peppino's name formula. Peppino is a nickname for Giuseppe so I thought I'd give Noise's swap a nickname to Theodore as the main name
Hazel Nutt is pretty self explanatory cuz Noisette means hazelnut in French
Their outfits are pretty simple to mirror Peppino and Gustavo's with just coloured shirts and aprons
Hazel doesn't get a mount because she would have Theo's prototype rocket skates. Just like Gus, she would have different stages of getting used to the skates per floor. First she gets blasted from end to end cuz she can't control the thrust. Second, she manages to turn it off but she's trying to keep balance on it. Third, she catches her breath now that she could stand still without moving or slipping. Next she would make a card castle, in reference to the very castle they're inside. and lastly she'd be holding a box of sweets without giving a shit about the scary floor.
To parallel the og Noisette, Hazel would smile bigger when Theo faces her direction.
Hazel is also Theo's delivery gal to match and switch with how Peppino WAS Gustavo's delivery guy
The "kick the rat" function would be Hazel swinging one of the skates and the cops grabbing Brick would instead hold a weapon detector that also functions as a magnet
Unlike Peppino, Theo is more aggressive than anxious. Imagine an injured cat defending itself from what it thinks is a threat
the name of Pizzaface's swap is Pieface for obvious reasons 😭
but HEAR ME OUT
both pizzaface and pieface are used as insults. pizza face is used for people with so much acne and pie face is used for someone with a flat face or dull expression. It isn't just a pun on what food the characters are made of. Pieface is also a reference to the trope where people headshot other people with pies. With the mech floating towards the protag, it would look like a pie is being thrown and targeted at Theo
Honestly drawing what food makes his face is so fun. Did you know that before the croissant smile it was supposed to be syrup shaped to a smile? The nose was a long whip of cream before turning into a cut strawberry for the mustache effect
Pizzahead's candy version would be called Gingerhead because of how ridiculous it sounds.
Gingerhead is based on Willy Wonka much like how Pizzahead is based on Ronald McDonald which is why he has more of a showman look than a clown look
okay side note, it just occured to me how ironic PH being based on Ronald is considering McDo's isn't a pizza place
actually Wonka doesn't even sell cakes and shit so, I guess it's fair game
Theo has the nickname Muffinman to reference the rhyme. but this time, it's the gingerbreadman chasing the baker
Next up is Mr S, who would be Peppino but he becomes rich. Mr S is the stage name he uses. He is a known celebrity much as Noise is but he is more of a boxer than a host. Like Dwayne Johnson or something. His name is partially a reference to ResEvil's Mr X, another absolute unit of a guy
also the reason why he doesn't wear a shirt. He's committing to the bit. If he needs to cover himself when he isn't playing a role, then there's his robe. He doesn't take out his mask most of the time tho
Mr S's mask is based on the Chef Raider design but also part of the scrapped superhero design much like Pizzano. Actually speaking of Pizzano, S is characterized so similarly to him cuz Pizzano is the only SS character who was actually written well to my standards. To be fair we've seen too much of Peppino to flunk characterizing him sksksk
Since this is Peppino that Mr S is based on, he's not as tech savvy or as self centered as Noise so he doesn't have robots that look like himself. Instead he has ants for a crew
the ants swap the place of rats. the rats in PT reference the new york pizza rat while ants just generally eat your food especially if it's sweet when left alone for five minutes
the ants come from Mr G, who would be Gustavo's swap with Noisette. He's Mr S's lawyer. at the end of S's bossfight, G would snatch him away with Click (the ant) because S would make a foul and embarrassing move on live camera
I can't seperate Gustavo and Brick so Click stays with Mr G instead of assisting Hazel
inside what would be Noisette cafe, instead of Mr G and Click being behind the counter, they would be sitting as customers next to Caraman. the barista isn't seen anywhere
Honestly when I'm writing everyone, my logic of swapping them isn't "make them switch places AND personalities" but more of "write every single one of them with the og personality because giving them a different lifestyle/role would drastically change their motives and how they behave"
I'm practically just swapping each character's place of birth
I mentioned this because it's kinda funny with Noisette and Gus since they play the exact same role of assisting Peppino/Noise so swapping them won't change much in how they act. They also have the same cheery and welcoming personality by default so Hazel and Mr G would act REALLY similar to their og
The only difference is that Gustavo can be threatening whenever Peppino fucks up. It fits right in with being a lawyer for the same goon
Now we got Mel Caraman who would become this au's Vigi. Lemme just say off the bat that Caraman is just as delusional as Vigi. He gets hired as a guard for floor 2 and took it way too seriously that he thinks he's some sort of sentinel. Hired as a guard but thinks he's an ancient guardian or something
his name vaguely references James Bond because you also VAGUELY get "caramel" out of "Caraman, Mel Caraman"
Caraman is a caramel apple but he's half glazed to form an eyemask. he's also got a stick poking out his head that stretches his chorro hat. the big hat makes him look cooler anyways. Bro I was so ready to settle for a shitty wild west mayor hat and I owe Beefy one for suggesting a new hat. I was gonna make him look like Doug Dimmadome with the short brimmed tall hat😭😭😭
but yeah Caraman doesn't have the same dignity as Vigi does. He can fight crime decently on normal circumstances and badass when he's full serious. But like day in day out he's so obnoxious about looking for crime that people get tired of him nor would they take him seriously
he would also be mistaken for a pepper
Next to last, Cam M. Bert or just Bert who would take place of Pepperman. he's an artist who appreciates the world instead of himself, a freelancer also. There was only a bossfight because he was coincidentally commissioned to make a mural for the castle the same time Theo busts in. He didn't like how Theo ruined some of his works with his rush to open the door
Bert is a cream cheese instead of a cheese slime. his beret is actually a little cherry to distinguish him from the other creams.
Bert is really chill and humble, He's like Bob Ross, whenever he can, he'd try to talk about how every beauty in the world should be immortalized through a canvas
In parallel to Vigi's delusion of thinking he's a human, Bert thinks he's actually a living painting (which is completely possible for someone to be in the PT world since Pepperman was able to do it with his own art)
instead of a :{ face that Vigilante has, Bert has a :3 face
the naming formula is taken directly from Vigi
Vig E. Lantte
Cam M. Bert
There is a type of sweet cheese that's really creamy called camembert which his name is a direct reference from. Here is a picture of a camembert since it's hella cute
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Camembert cheese was also suggested by Beefy, brother thank you for not allowing me to name this cunt Creamlad
Mr Lardo would be in place of Mr Stick but his motive is that he's collecting Theo's money on BEHALF of Mr Stick. They're probably the only ones who completely stay intact because there's not much canon info of Stick WITHIN the game itself I also feel he's a crossover character from his own "series" with how long McPig has him prior to PT so I just swap the character who makes the "cameo"
The toppins are still called toppins because they'd be used to decorate a cake or pie. They would be
Strawberry - Mushroom
Cream - Cheese
Cookie - Tomato
Icing (in a piping bag) - Sausage
actually I dont know yet for the pineapple but I'll get to it. I've only been figuring out this au since four days ago....
Lastly (of the characters), the Faker in this would be mechanical to match the original Noise's familiarity in robots
Fake Theo (temp name) would be engineered to be "Theo but way better" while actually being succesful with it. Faker would also sort of look like a mini figure of a ballerina. Referencing The Nutcracker
Opposite to Fake Peppino, Fake Theo is more graceful than terrifying but it's so uncanny how unnaturally pretty it is
and now some misc stuff
Title of the final level is When The Cookie Crumbles
the pepper pizza will be replaced with an extremely sweet pie and the immunity is caused by the sugar rush from it
Pizza Time is called Crunch Time
Pillar John would be a giant graham cracker since the walls are made of cookies instead of bricks. Gerome however, is a solidified bar of brownies. like a shittily made brownie that it just turned into a construction brick
Snotty is a pure white cream cheese and that's cuz he's actually made of glue. His name is Sticky
Pigs would either be bears or rabbits with how many times those two animals represented sweets
I'm gonna be clear with everyone here. I literally made this au cuz I'm going insane trying to make swap stuff with Pascal/Stefano when the au itself is so empty. sure it's colourful but it's so empty like I can't draw SS characters outside of poses
I tried like doing fanon modifications as I always do then there's so much I "modified" that at this point it's not Sugary Spire anymore. Just straight up a completely different au. The only similarity is that it's a swap au with sweets
it is what it is yknow. this is my life now. I said fuck it and went with the flow and boom, new personal au that I poured too much into
basically I blame Pascal for this
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mayearies · 7 months
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POCO LOCO FOR HOCO .. miles morales ⟡
󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 “there she is! ganke! my dream girl.”
✦ synopsis miles had been crushing on you since freshman year. of course he couldnt confront you about it, even if he believed he was naturally smooth with the ladies. but today was the day.
✦ genre hugs n cuddles
✦ disclaimer none!
✦ note! the title isnt corny shut up
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“man, come on.” ganke sighed. miles wanted to ask you out to the homecoming dance since he really adored you. having a crush that didnt wind down for over a year was taking a toll.
miles paced against the marble floor of the hall as people passed by. he was a nervous mess, and ganke wasn’t helping much. “i knoww.. i know!” he crossed his arms, “come on, miles. it’s just homecoming.”
miles gave him a bothered stare and put his hands on his hips, “it isn’t ‘just homecoming,’ ganke! we’re talking about asking the girl i’ve liked for a year, two months, five days, and 2 hours to go to homecoming with me here! lighten up, would ya?”
“you’ve been pacing in the same hallway for the last 15 minutes. i’m getting dimmer and dimmer.” ganke slammed his hands on miles’ shoulders and gave him an inspired look. “you got this. you bought her flowers, tickets, the sign…”
it was a corny spiderman pun he got off the internet a few days before. i mean, it was an attempt. “… could have been better, but we were running short on time. so to sum it up—go get your girl.”
“…thanks man, that was really enli-”
“before someone else does. now go!” he shoved him into you, making you jump in surprise. he was really nervous and sweaty. he wouldn’t know what to do if you said no.
“oh! miles, right?” he was surprised you knew his name, he isnt that well known around visions. he was at one point, on like the first day of school of freshman year. “yep! t-that’s me.”
“i almost never see you around, though. and i know most people in here.” well, crap.
“i just… do a lot of online school! yeah, yeah, i get sick a lot,” he fake coughed while turning his head away, “weak immune systems, y’know?”
ganke facepalmed in the background and gestured miles to get it done and over with before their break ends. he swallowed shakily, “so, i wanted to ask you something.” you rose your eyebrow.
shuffled and pulled out the poster that he made last night, which had a pun writing of “just like spiderman saves the day, will you save a dance for me at hoco?" it looked like he spent a lot of time on it too. “so… will you..?”
“i…” you didnt plan on going to homecoming with anyone, actually. but it was too cute of a proposal “i’d love to.”
his face lit up of sunshine. ganke gave him a thumbs up from just over your shoulder. he hasn’t been this happy in a while. “seriously? like you mean it?” you nodded, “what made you ask me, though?”
“it was a choice.” you giggled a little. “same thing for your shoelaces?”
“you already know me so well, jeez!”
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@ mayearies , no swiping!
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