#He is used to having so much control and plan for things

[secretsofafangirll]

oral fixation - m.s.

summary: matts girlfriend loves to have things in her mouth. when she gets home after a day of minor inconveniences, she seeks comfort from her boyfriend, in a rather, unconventional way.

warnings: oral (male receiving), praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), soft!dom matt, sub!fem, talk of anxiety,

a/n: couple of things; one, the girl doesn't have a name so you can imagine whomever you'd like, two, i've started planning my Matt series...anyways, hope you guys like it! :)))

"A touch / From your real love / Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil"

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜

For my entire life, I’ve loved having things in my mouth. 

When I was younger, it was impossible for my parents to get my thumb or my pacifier out of my mouth. The comfort that came from having the object resting in my mouth was too intense for me to leave behind. Behaviors like that followed me into childhood with things like gum or lollipops. In high school, I chewed copious amounts of gum, always had a pen or pencil in my mouth and played with my lips all the time. 

Naturally, when I managed to find myself a boyfriend, he became aware of my oral fixation in many ways. He would always notice how often I had things in my mouth or if I was biting my lips, he would offer me something else so I didn’t tear up the delicate skin. It got to a point where, if he and I were laying down together and one of his hands was unoccupied, I would simply reach down and grab his hand, bringing it to my mouth and wrapping my lips around one of his fingers and playing with it in my mouth. Of course Matt enjoyed this himself, but there were other ...situations, where this oral fixation benefitted him much more than putting a finger in my mouth. 

Matt also understood why I do what I do. Him and I both struggle with anxiety, and we both have for years. In high school, I was medicated for it and had a hard time getting through the day. However, I hated the way that the meds made me feel and I swore to my parents that I wasn’t going to take them anymore and that I’d find another way to cope. Matt copes with alone time and silence but I get more overstimulated than he does and when I do, all I want is to have something in my mouth and someone to touch. 

Which is why on days like these, anxiety ridden and insane days, I need my boyfriend and one of his extremities to rest between my lips. 

After several cars cutting me off on the road and almost hitting me on the way to the gym this morning, I was already slightly shaken up and worried for my safety. When I got to the gym, there was a man somewhat following me around, conveniently using all of the machines next to me. After that, I went to the grocery store in hopes that they had some grapes and snacks for me to feel better, they were out of seedless grapes which sent me into a frenzy about the way that the seeds feel in my mouth, and the self-checkout lanes were under renovation and I had to talk to the cashier to check out. 

I took shallow and quick breaths as I walked swiftly out to my car. I tossed the bag into the back seat and swung open the driver door. The second that I was enclosed in my car, in my space, I was able to calm myself down. Once I had myself under control, I started the car and drove home. When I arrived, I grabbed my things from the car and headed inside. I used my house key to unlock the front door, using my foot to close it behind me. I tossed my keys in the dish and heard Matt typing on the couch. 

“Hi baby,” He said without looking up. I didn’t respond because I just wanted to put the groceries I picked up away and sit with him. “Alright,” He said and continued typing away. 

I put the cold stuff in the refrigerator and the dry stuff in the pantry and cabinets before heading to his room to slide out my dirty and uncomfortable gym clothes and into one of his shirts. Once I was comfortable and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, I was finally ready to lay down next to him on the couch. 

“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, gently taking a seat next to him and pulling a blanket over my legs, curling into his side and latching onto one of his arms, “I just wanted to put those away so that I could sit with you.” 

I sat there looking for something of his to grab onto but his hands were occupied and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I put anything else, if you know what I mean, in my mouth at the moment. I sighed quietly to myself and began to bite on my lips. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” He said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head. 

I continued my assault on my lips and I felt the skin tear and the metallic taste of my own blood rested on my tongue. When it started to hurt too bad to bite my lips, one of my hands found my mouth and I started to bite and suck on that instead, the other arm wrapping impossibly tighter around his. His elbow nudged my side and he looked over at me. 

“You doin’ okay?” He asked without looking away from his computer where he was replying to emails and taking notes in a Google Doc. I only hummed, unwilling to take my fingers out of my mouth. My lack of a real response, which I know he hated, made him finally look up at me. My eyes blinked guiltily at him when his brows went from furrowed to concerned, “Sweetheart,” He sighed and reached up to pull my hand away from my mouth. I flexed all of my muscles to keep it in my mouth but he tilted his head at me and pulled harder, his strength easily overpowering mine. 

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, relaxing my muscles and looking down my hands with guilt and embarrassment written all over my face. 

“Hey,” He said softly, reaching out to grab my jaw and gently pull my head up to look at him, “You don’t have to say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head and looked into my eyes for an explanation, “D’you have a bad day?” He asked and closed his computer screen ¾ of the way down. 

“Kind of,” I said, questioning in my tone, “I don’t even know. It’s just been, like, too much.” I tried to spit it out but I struggled to pin-point how, exactly, I felt. It was just too much.

“That’s okay, baby,” He cooed, “You want my hand?” My eyes widened in excitement and I nodded before correcting myself with a ‘Yes, please’. 

He brought his left forearm up to my mouth and I played with his long fingers trying to pick which one I wanted. I decided on the pointer first, but planned to use every finger but the pinky. He used his other hand to scroll through emails and business inquiries, also scrolling through pinterest to find inspiration for future videos. 

I, on the other hand, swirled my tongue mindlessly around his fingers, taking them all the way into my mouth and then back out, my saliva coating his fingers down the knuckle. Every so often, he would shift his hips slightly or clear his throat and scratch his neck. I knew how this was affecting him, but he also respected my needs more than his and wouldn’t want to make me uncomfortable. After close to twenty minutes had passed of my sucking on his fingers, he looked at the time on his computer and closed it all the way. He leaned back against the couch, his hand still in my mouth and he turned his head as it laid against the top of the couch and he watched me mindlessly play with his fingers. When I fully pulled off his middle finger alone, I pushed his ring finger to meet it and took them both fully into my mouth. He groaned and I snapped my eyes to meet him and worked my mouth around his fingers. 

“God, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that when you’ve got my fingers down your throat, honey,” He instructed gently, understanding of my rather fragile nature. I pulled off his fingers, letting my tongue teasingly drag across the length of them. 

“Sorry,” I swallowed to clear my throat and scooted closer to him. He reached across himself and wrapped his dry hand around my thigh and under my knee to pull me onto his lap. I squealed at the sudden movement but settled and nuzzled into his lap. 

“How many times are you gonna apologize, hm?” He questioned with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears. 

“You know how I am, Matt,” I laughed and grabbed his wrists and put them on top of my thighs, encouraging him to tickle them. 

“Yeah, I do,” He smiled, “But that means that I know you’re gonna keep saying sorry until you feel better.” He accused me and I smiled like I’d been caught stealing, “What else do you need, baby?”

I blushed and looked down at my hands, “I don’t wanna-,”

“Oh, you’re gonna.” He said sternly. 

“I want you.”

“You have me.” He said and nudged my chin with his knuckle, “What do you need?”

“Need your cock,” I said quietly. 

“What was that?” He turned his ear toward me. 

“I need your cock, Matthew.” I said louder. 

“There she is.” He said and gently moved my thighs to allow me to sink to my knees in front of him. “See? Wasn’t that hard, no?” 

When I was comfortable at his feet, I worked to remove his belt and unbuckle his pants. He did the work of actually pushing them down. His hard cock sprung out of his pants and he hissed as the cool air penetrated the sensitive and tacky skin. His tip was lathered in a small amount of pre-cum and he pulsed and twitched slightly. I pouted at the sight for two reasons; one being that it made me want him in my mouth even more, and two, I felt bad for the state I’d put him in. 

“Matty,” I whined, tracing circles with the fingernails on his knees, “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m sorry.” 

“If you say sorry one more time, all you’re getting is my fingers,” He tutted. My eyes widened in fear. 

“Okay, I’ll stop.” I promised and he smiled down at me. 

“Good girl.” 

I got to quick work pumping his cock in my hand to get him ready. His cock looked so big compared to my smaller hand. It didn’t even fit around the entire thing. He groaned and hissed at the stimulation, his breathing getting heavier and slightly more labored. Soon, I leaned down and gently licked the tip before wrapping my lips around the tip. Pleasure and comfort washed over me and I continued to sink my head down onto his dick. His hands gathered my hair in a make-shift ponytail on my head and he held my hair out of my face. He didn’t push my head down, he just simply aided me in my quest for comfort, which I was most definitely finding. 

“There you go baby,” He praised, “So fuckin’ good,” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else. 

I took his cock down my throat slowly, suppressing the slight gag reflex I still have, though it’s not too bad. I whined around his dick with comfort and need. 

“What baby?” He asked breathlessly, pulling me off him, “Why’re you whinin’? You got what you wanted, no?” 

“No!,” I protested, pushing his hands away, “I’m fine! I just love having you, s’all.” I explained with a smile before going back down on him. As I continued to work his cock, my body visibly relaxed and the sighs of content that left my mouth. Matt simply closed his eyes above me, opening them periodically to watch me take him down my throat. 

Matt started to get close, his hips becoming restless under me and his hands that were in my hair started to guide me down his cock faster. He moaned and whimpered as he grew closer and closer to the edge. 

“Oh fuck-,” He whimpered, “God, so good, baby. So close.”

His stutters and whimpers encouraged me to work with him faster, yet take my time on all of his sensitive bits. I relied on the relief that accompanied the weight of his cock on my tongue. I worked him until hips stuttered and bucked off the couch and he moaned my name and praises into the air.  

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He whispered, bucking his hips into my throat making me choke slightly but I didn’t care, “M Sorry. Fuck,” He whispered and then e shot his load down my throat. I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down. “Show me,” He demanded, once he caught his breath and he pulled me off him all the way. I stuck my tongue out to show him that I swallowed it and he smiled at me in response, lightly tapping my cheek with the hand that held my jaw. 

“Thank you,” I sighed, my throat somewhat sore. 

“No, thank you, my beautiful girl.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. When I pulled away, I bit the inside of my lip and looked into his eyes, silently yearning for more. His brows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, “What, baby? Not enough?” I looked at him with a guilty smile and shook my head. 

“I just want more,” I said quietly. He opened his mouth to respond but as soon as he did, his laptop and phone dinged several times, he looked at his phone and saw what it was. 

“Look, sweetheart, I’ve got more work shit to do,” I groaned and sat back on my heels below him but he pressed a finger to my lips, “But, if you’d let me finish you impatient little baby,” he teased, “if you’re good and hold me without moving your tongue at all, you can stay where you are.” 

“Yes please. I promise I’ll be good,” I nodded my head and sat back up right. He nodded at me and grabbed everything he needed to continue working and I took him back into my mouth. I zoned out with him in my mouth but it was still exciting to be getting what I’d been craving all day and my tongue jerked against a few times. 

“Ah, ah,” He asked, “Settle, sweetheart. You promised me.” He directed and when I calmed down around his cock, his hand patted my head softly and he went back to typing away. 

//

a/n: i'd been working on this for about a week or so. hope you guys liked it!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #fanfic #matt sturniolo x fem!oc #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #smut #light smut #light angst #masterlist #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x oc #sturniolo x reader

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

[lordprettyflackotara]

paradise || sam golbach

SMUT. minors dni fr. 18+ this one is ummm. i’d say it’s for the humiliation & harder kink leaning girls only !! i have so many fics in the work i promise imma feed all of the different fandoms that follow me🙏🏼 enjoy mwah !

How did one woman change Sam’s life so drastically?

How did you change his life so drastically?

Sam couldn’t escape you. He thought of you every day, the image of you burned into his mind. You were like a parasite, one that had buried itself into the depths of his brain.

It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He tried everything to forget you. Or at the very least to think of you less. Sam felt like he was slipping, losing control of his own thoughts. He traveled wherever, trying to distract himself.

It didn’t matter where he went, he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own desires.

Logically, Sam knew anything he felt for you was wrong. Any filthy fantasy, craving, or romantic thought, was a sin. After all, you were Colby’s little sister.

Colby was only a couple of years older than you, the age gap one that originally steered Sam away from you. Growing up with Colby, you were always around. You did your own thing, preoccupied in building a simple life for yourself. You opted to be out of the spotlight, politely declining any invitation to be apart of their content.

But then, you disappeared for a few years. Sam hadn’t seen you since high school. You went away to an out of state University, while Sam and Colby both moved across the country to pursue being content creators. If Sam was being honest with himself, despite his current obsession, he had forgotten about you for a while.

After all, he was in the major league now. He had girlfriends come and go, hookups, anything and everything he could ever need. Sam firmly believed, at the time at least, he was in paradise. He was on a high, one that he thought he couldn’t be knocked down from. So when one of Colby’s cousins was getting married, he didn’t think twice about the invitation, nor being his plus one.They did everything together, both boys pretty much members of each other’s families. Everything should’ve went the way Sam expected it to, but it didn’t.

Those predicted thoughts and plans were all shattered the moment he saw you. You were borderline unrecognizable. Sam couldn’t figure it out, staring at you as you walked down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids. Your face had matured, a decent amount of your soft skin revealed in the dress you were wearing. Your back was almost completely exposed, the sight making Sam shift awkwardly in his chair like a thirteen year old boy.

He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, his face turning the faintest shade of pink. Was he really getting hard? Over seeing some skin? Sam mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He had seen much crazier things. Yet, the simplicity of your back was enough to send him in a frenzy. As you gazed over at the audience, your eyes met his, a small smile creeping up your lips. Sam delivered a discreet wave, your smile growing bigger at the sight. Your eyes then flickered back to the bride, your attention returning to the wedding.

Somehow, someway, for some reason, that made Sam jealous. Sam was not a jealous person. Or he didn’t consider himself to be. The after party was more Sam’s speed, the loud music and alcohol provided something he was used to. Sam didn’t drink often, deciding to stay sober for the most part. (After one too many drunken hookups, he learned his lesson.) He monitored Colby the best he could, the brunette talking up a girl Sam didn’t recognize.

Awkwardly Sam sat at one of the round tables, his phone dead and eyes glazed over from boredom.

“Sam?”

Your voice was like heroin.

Sam’s head perked up, his eyes flickering to yours. You sat down beside him, skipping the small talk and immediately trying to catch up. As you told him about your University adventures Sam couldn’t help but stare at you. Your elegant makeup complimented you perfectly, your pink lips moving a mile a minute. He hung onto every word, every time you laughed at one of his jokes.

The party was beginning to die down, older family members going their separate ways. You nervously bit your bottom lip, asking Sam a question he could’ve only dreamed of:

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?”

Sam felt euphoric when you pulled him into the back seat of your car. When you placed your lips against his, when your small hands began to fiddle with his belt.

He remembered the sweet sound of your moans. The way you whimpered for him, begging for him to not stop. How tight your cunt squeezed him, the way your lips pressed against his with such passion. As if you had been yearning for him all of those years you were away. The way you looked into his eyes as you came around his cock was all Sam could ever think about.

Attempting to return to his normal life was pure agony. Having to look Colby in the eye the next day was a nightmare, his little sister’s mouth wrapped around his cock the night before. Attempting to continue making content was even harder, Sam’s mind wrapped around the memory of you. He tried to ignore it, but his fans knew something was up. The comments of concern grew overwhelming, the blonde deciding to take a break from social media all together.

Colby recommended that he try to take a well deserved vacation to try to get himself together. Colby didn’t think much of his behavior, figuring he was just in a slump. Sometimes making too much content was draining. He figured he just needed a long break.

Sam tried. Genuinely, he tried to move on. He visited Florida, the waves of the beach not enough to drown out the memory of your moans. He tried New York next, the tourist actions not indulging enough to get him to forget you. Every time he attempted to focus his mind would begin remembering, the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

It was never enough.

He sat in his hotel room, contemplating booking another flight. Maybe to Mexico. Maybe that would fix it. He flipped apps to instagram, a picture of you showing up on his timeline. Of course. What were the odds? You were posing with a friend, standing in front of a picture of your University.

He bit his bottom lip, knowing his desire to come see you was absurd. It was reckless, completely and utterly insane. If you didn’t react well, his friendship with Colby could be entirely ruined. But what if you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you?

Fuck it.

Sam stood at the door of your dorm, becoming increasingly nervous. He could feel his heart beginning to pound, his mouth running dry. Admittedly he felt guilty about finding your personal information like this. Then having the audacity to show up at your front door unannounced. He almost thought about walking away, but then he heard your laugh. The mesmerizing sound of your sweet laughter.

Sam cleared his throat, before knocking on your door. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of locks being unlocked filling his ears. Timidly you pulled the door open, surprised to see anyone at your doorstep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Sam, shocked he was standing in front of you.

“Sam?”

Sam could feel his heart pounding louder, adrenaline running through his veins. He brushed past you, entering the apartment. You awkwardly closed the door, more confused than anything. “I know this is inappropriate but I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sam confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know why, but ever since that night at the wedding I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It’s been driving me crazy,” He continued, rambling on.

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him pace back and forth like a madman. “I have tried everything in my power to move on. But I can’t. Your pussy is like fucking heroin, okay? And I can’t stop thinking about you and that night,” Sam babbled. His tongue was moving a mile a minute, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Do you know how many times i’ve jerked off to the thought of you? Just the mere thought? You’re so addicting that I-”

An awkward cough came from behind him, your roommate gawking at the blonde in front of her. She looked back and forth from you to him, as if she was trying to process what was happening. “This is Sam?” She asked, dumbfounded. Sam felt his face turn red as his eyes flickered back and forth from you to her. Your face was nearly as dark as his.

“Uh huh.”

“The Sam that fucked you at the wedding?”

“Uh huh.”

“The same guy who made you cum like five times-”

“Emma!”

Emma raised her hands in defeat, sliding off of her chair. “I’m going to let you guys uh, figure this out,” She said. You watched as she walked over to the stairs, nodding profusely and giving you two thumbs up. You refrained from face palming, turning your attention back to Sam.

Sam was tongue tied, to say the very least. He was filled with embarrassment, his red face telling you everything you needed to know. You approached Sam slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Did you mean that?” You asked softly. Sam worked up the courage to meet your eyes, looking down at you. Your hands on his shoulders was enough to make butterflies fly around in his stomach.

“Mean what?”

“Everything you just said.”

Sam was dumbfounded by your question. Had he not been clear enough?

“If you asked me to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me id do it without a second thought.”

You bit your bottom lip, eyeing Sam’s body.

“And Colby?”

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side.

“What about him?”

You sighed, taking a step closer to him.

“Does he have any idea about this? About us?”

The blonde took a moment to rack his brain, searching for any clues he might’ve accidentally left. Obviously he hadn’t said a word to Colby, refraining from bringing you up at all. If he happened to bring you up, Sam would change the topic immediately. “No he doesn’t,” He answered honestly. You pressed your body against his, the room seemingly growing to a hundred degrees. “He’s going to find out eventually you know, are you going to be able to handle that?” You asked.

Handle being skinned alive by Colby? Piece of cake. An absolute walk in the park. Sam would do it in a heartbeat, all for you. “Yeah,” Sam agreed. His eyes darted down to your lips, the urge to kiss you overwhelming him.

“I think you should stay for a while.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, the blonde leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. They were as soft and plump as he remembered, your arms wrapping around his neck. As delicate as the kiss was, Sam remembered a very important part of why he was addicted to you. You liked it fucking rough.

Sam’s hands slithered down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as if you were going to disappear. “Jump for me,” He whispered, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back roughly hit your living room wall, knocking over a couple of photo frames off of a shelf. You gasped as you heard them clatter to the floor, Sam’s lips trailing down your face to the side of your neck.

“Sam be careful, I do have a roommate you know,” You whimpered, his lips preoccupied with littering your neck with hickies. His hips grinded against yours, your core beginning to throb with desire. “She’ll be fine, you can tell her about the five more orgasms I give you,” Sam purred, licking the side of your neck. His lips trailed up to your ear, nibbling at it gently. You groaned his name, tugging at his blonde hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Sam confessed, his hips bucking against yours. You giggled, meeting his gaze. “You better fuck me like you mean it then,” You replied. Sam smirked at your response. He carried you over to the couch, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He needed to see you, to feel you. You both stripped each other, desperate to see the other one exposed. Sam tried to ignore his raging boner as he admired you.

“Fuck, you’re ethereal,” Sam praised. He lowered himself down to your stomach, teasingly pressing kisses down to your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Purposefully he fanned his hot breath over your folds, your cunt dripping in arousal. “So wet, this all for me?” Sam asked. You attempted to push him into your cunt, his head not moving.

“Sammy, no teasing, please,” You whined. Sam wasn’t one to deny you of that, lowering himself into your cunt. His tongue lapped at your slick like a starved man, rotating licking to sucking at your clit. Roughly he brought two fingers to your entrance, relishing in the feeling of your walls struggling to take his fingers. Your juices coated his chin, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you going to take my cock if you’re struggling to take my fingers?” Sam asked teasingly. You moaned in response, his fingers curling and hitting your g spot.

You threw your head back, squeezing your thighs around Sam’s head. A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh, a gasp escaping your lips. “Look at me, fucking look at me as you become a stupid slut for me,” Sam ordered. You had no room to argue, your body a slave to the pleasure. Sam matched your energy, providing you with the rough dominant rough sex you craved. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him, your sinful moans bouncing off of the living room walls.

“Thats right, moan just like that. Let Emma and all of your neighbors know who this cunt belongs to,” Sam growled. His fingers were merciless, a third finger sliding into you. Your hands flew down to his hair, tugging at the roots as a knot began forming into your stomach. Your eyes were threatening to flutter shut, every ounce of energy you had dedicated to maintaining eye contact.

“Awe are you close already?” Sam smirked, your orgasm growing closer and closer. He spread open your folds, admiring your cunt. “Fuck, i’m going to fuck you so stupid,” He grumbled, reattaching his mouth to your clit. His strong hands forced your legs open, your thighs trembling as you came. Sam’s lips were relentless, sucking and swirling around your clit as you came on his face. As you rode out your high you threw your head back, your heart racing.

Sam couldn’t hide his ego as he emerged from between your legs. “On your knees, slut. Now,” He barked. You scrambled to meet his command, your knees hitting the wooden floor. “Open your mouth for me,” He snarled. The moment you did so his cum soaked fingers were shoved in your mouth, all three of them. You did the best you could to suck them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, teasing him.

“Thats a good girl,” Sam purred in satisfaction. He removed his fingers from your mouth, eagerly replacing them with his cock. Your mouth was heaven, Sam watching in amazement as you began taking him further without a second thought. He hadn’t even needed to tell you to. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Sam muttered, grabbing your hair. He ensured to make it into a nice ponytail, before forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

The sound of you gagging was pure ecstasy. Sam admired as saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth. Down to your chin. Then pooling onto the wooden floor in front of your knees. The blonde couldn’t think straight as his hips moved on their own, lost in his own personal euphoria as he face fucked you. You did your best to maintain eye contact with him, tears flooding your waterline. “You’re such a whore, fuck,” Sam groaned.

He briefly yanked you off of his cock, watching you gasp for gulps of air. Saliva dripped down his cock, tears officially spilling from your waterline. Sam’s cock twitched at the sight, your mouth reattaching itself to him. Mesmerized, Sam watched as you sucked his cock, your tongue swirling and wrapping around his tip. Sam whimpered as his own high came quickly, the blonde yanking you off of him. Your name was a mantra as he came, jerking his cock in front of you.

You flattened your tongue across your bottom lip, his ropes of cum painting your face. You swallowed what seed landed on your tongue, the rest of his cum staining his face. Sam guided you over to the couch. You stood eagerly, awaiting his instructions. “Cmere, come ride my thigh,” He said plainly. You planted yourself on his thigh, a whimper escaping your lips as your clit brushed against his bare skin. You went to wipe off your face, the blonde grabbing your wrist.

“No. Ride my thigh with my cum on your face. Show me that’s how much of a whore you are,” Sam ordered. You grabbed onto Sam’s thigh for support, steadying yourself before slowly rolling your hips downwards. You couldn’t hide your whimpers, your clit overstimulated. Sam watched in awe, your hips slowly grinding against him. “Go faster,” Sam commanded. He didn’t want to be easy on you, he wanted to see you squirm.

Your thighs shook as you attempted to follow his command, your cheeks turning a shade of bright red as the humiliation set in. You weren’t going fast enough for Sam, his large hands grabbing your waist. His fingers dug into your skin harshly, guiding you to ride his thigh faster. “Sam- Feels so good, I- fuck,” You slurred. Your hips struggled to keep up with Sam’s movements, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt your second orgasm coming.

Sam could feel himself growing hard again at the sight of you, blood rushing to his shaft as you pathetically did everything in your power to cum. “Cum for me, now,” Sam ordered. Unholy mantras of Sam’s name slipped from your lips, your thighs trembling as you came on his thigh. You felt dazed, your body trembling as Sam’s strong hands held you in place.

He lovingly brought his hand to your cheek, ignoring the cum that was gathering on his thumb. “You think you can handle me?” He asked gently. You mumbled an agreement, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You grabbed his wrist, redirecting his thumb into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, swallowing his cum. “Filthy filthy girl,” Sam muttered, guiding you into the next position.

You found yourself on the couch on all fours, ass in the air as Sam admired you. Your arch was divine, one he had seen before and had been yearning for all of this time. Teasingly he rubbed his tip up and down your slick, lubricating his cock for you. His eyes gleamed with pride as you squirmed at the slightest feeling of his tip brushing against your clit. One thing that Sam remembered, on top of everything else, was that you didn’t like to wait.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he quickly pushed himself inside. Sam would be fine with taking things slow, allowing your body to adjust to his cock. But you preferred to be slammed into, enjoying the pain that ever so slowly faded into pleasure. Sam let out a shaky groan as he bottomed out, euphoria clouding his senses.

Sam had traveled all over the world trying to forget about you, trying to seek paradise. One that would bring him to the state of blissful peace. But as his cock brushed against your g spot, the sweet sound of your whimpers flooding his ears, he came to a realization. Sam’s personal paradise was being buried into your cunt. Nothing else on the planet compared to the way you squeezed him, begged for him, kissed him, moaned for him. His paradise, overall, was you.

The blonde began moving his hips, your groans growing louder. Your walls clenched around him as Sam picked up the pace, he began panting curses with mixes of your name. “You feel so fucking tight, shit,” Sam groaned. He leaned over further, grabbing a handful of your hair as his cock abused your cervix. “You’re mine. My personal cock slut, understand?” He growled. He pushed your face into the couch, his cum staining the fabric below you.

“Y-yes sir,” You babbled, your body on cloud nine. Your thighs began to shake with every thrust, your body overstimulated and complete putty in Sam’s hands. Sam’s fast paced thrust were becoming greedy, the desire for him to reach his own high clouding his judgment. “Look at you, staining your couch with my cum all because I told you to. Such a pathetic whore for me,” Sam rambled, his hands digging into the sides of your waist.

You could feel your final orgasm approaching, your waterline flooded with tears as they dripped down your cheeks. “Sammy, gonna cum, please, don’t stop,” You pleaded. You tilted your head back, looking up at Sam as he pounded into you. His hand left your hair, slithering down to your throat. He squeezed the sides, restricting your airway. “Go on then, cum on my cock,” Sam muttered, thrust away from orgasming himself.

Your walls spasmed around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as Sam fucked you through your orgasm. You were seeing stars, your final orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Sam pulled out quickly, his ropes of cum painting your ass and lower back.

He felt euphoric, the paradise he had been seeking right in front of him, covered in his cum. Your body was spent, your heart pounding in your chest as you came down from your high. Sam scrambled to find something to clean you up with, deciding his shirt would have to suffice. He wiped his seed off of your ass, gently helping you roll over onto your back.

A faint smile creeped across your lips, your mascara smudged and running down your cheeks. “The cumming on my face thing was hot, we should do that again,” You admitted, allowing Sam to clean your face. He chuckled at your confession, admiring your fresh face.

“I figured you’d like it.”

With all of the energy you had left you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. This kiss was different, the desperation gone. Replaced with a certain sweetness and passion Sam hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands cupped your face, deepening the kiss. The sound of his ringtone, halted him from continuing. He mumbled an apology, digging his phone out of his discarded jeans.

“Oh shit it’s Colby, hang on.” Sam informed you. He resumed his place beside you on the floor, your soft lips leaving pecks of kisses on his shoulder.

“Hey brother, what’s up?”

“You want to explain to me why you’re at my little sister’s dorm?”

Shit.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

[yan-lorkai]

Hi hiii I'm the anon that requested the Charlie! Reader and I was wondering- would it be weird to ask for a Adam! Reader with yan! Idia, Leona, Malleus, and Vil? (If you it's too many feel free to remove anyone! ^^)

And can I be Beanie anon? If it's alright?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's not weird at all. Adam has it's charms though he isn't one of my favorites character so this end up a little short. Also yes, you absolutely can be Beanie anon (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

The first human, the one who saw everything and did everything. An angel of the highest rank, despite all his arrogance, superb character and foul vocabulary, you find yourself trapped here, still doing things your way, ordering and mocking everyone. Some students hate you, others love you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Vil, you are incorrigible. Someone he doesn't see why he loves as intensely as he does. Or maybe it's just because you two are so different that he feels curious at first and then interested. Still, there are many things you must work on to achieve your best, many things he will make you change, no matter what techniques he has to use. Doesn't care about your status but he does get curious about heaven. What does it look like? Did humans portray heaven right? As much as he is the one manipulating and twisting the threads to control you, Vil is also curious and someone as old and "wise" as you could use that to silence him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia... Idia finds you intimidating, out of his reach, a UR+ card he'll never get no matter how much he farms and pulls. He starts watching you soon after you appear in this world, waiting to see what he would have to deal with if your paths ever crossed. You are intriguing, strong and confident, everything he is not, everything he wanted to be. He is a little surprised when he finds out about your high status and angel powers, but he is confident that he can defeat you and lock you inside STYX if you ever have to fight.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He doesn't care about your angel status, your powers, about heaven or the purge that takes place annually in hell. Leona doesn't care about any of that, preferring to think and plan how to shut you up when you go on and on about how you're the first human and everything you've ever seen and done. Due to your different powers, Leona tends to use more physical force against you, which usually ends in a draw since you both are strong. But you love the challenge, teasing and mocking him. "How bold of you, Kingscholar, trying to kidnap the first human!" How does it end? With a headache for Leona, so many people for him to obsess over and he fell in love with this troublesome angel.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus think you're funny and he likes to watch you interact with your peers. He is like a researcher watching its subject doing random things, being fascinated. He does not mind your status but offer to help with the purge that happens in hell if you want. He would also like to hear you talking about whatever you have seen and done as you are older than him. Talk about heaven, about the earth, about anything you like, he'll hear you with a smile on his face the whole time. Though if you both fight someday he straight up just use his unique magic to trap you inside a dream.

#beanie anon #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil #yandere idia #yandere leona #yandere malleus #yandere vil x reader #vil x reader #yandere idia x reader #idia x reader #yandere leona x reader #leona x reader #yandere malleus x reader #malleus x reader #vil x yuu #vil x mc #leona x mc #leona x yuu #malleus x mc #malleus x yuu #idia x mc #idia x yuu #lorkai headcanons

[charliewhaw]

Ooohhh what if alastor joined the V’s? That’s an interesting scenario to think about and how different alastor and Vox’s relationship would be

(I’ve thought about this a lot, but have never come to a definite conclusion on it before. Guess today is the day to do that! Also, sorry for taking so long. Been a hectic time! Things should come out smoother and faster going forward!)

Vox would pop the question easily. “Will you join me?” He knew Alastor would say ‘yes’ because how could he not? Them? Taking over Hell together? There was no other way this would go. Alastor was Vox’s perfect match. In both body and mind.

Vox was used to getting his way, in life and in the afterlife. He was used to getting everything he wanted from anyone he wanted it from. So, he would, of course, expect Alastor to fall in line and give himself to Vox. He couldn’t even imagine a scenario where ‘no’ would be an option. But Vox isn’t stupid. He knew Alastor would be a challenge to convince and conquer. It would take a lot of careful persuasion on Vox’s part, but eventually, Alastor would agree to join the Vees on the condition that he didn’t have to change his name. Vox’s solution to this was to throw an “A” into his logo’s shadow, indicating the Vees and also boldly representing the man who was both a master of shadows, and who would become a master at manipulating Vox.

Vox would reach out his hand for Alastor to take and hold, but Alastor would misunderstand and shake his hand instead. Alastor would consistently misunderstand Vox’s intentions. It would be both frustrating and endearing to Vox. Every moment with Alstor was so entertaining.

Vox would run his company as the CEO, naturally, but Alastor would be his right-hand man, whispering into Vox’s ear what he should do next. Alastor wasn’t a businessman, however. So, Vox would adjust his ideas and make them profitable. But if Alastor suggested something, you can guarantee it was going to happen. Alastor is an extremely intelligent man and Vox would have no doubt Alastor’s plans would benefit his company in the end, even if they seemed strange at the time of implementation. It would become extremely easy for Alastor to take advantage of this influence he had over Vox. The only thing Vox would refuse to do was let go of Valentino. His studios were too profitable, and it would be a shame to not be in control of one of Hell’s greatest money-makers. So, Alastor’s suggestions for killing Valentino or converting the studios into something else would be denied each and every time. Vox would then attempt to distract Alastor with some other scheme.

Vox is a man of many talents and skills: One of those skills is simping over Alastor. The man could do no wrong, and that perspective Vox held would be made obvious whenever Alastor was called out for his bullshit. You see, Alastor is a jokester. He enjoys entertaining himself. A master of shenanigans, if you will. He would find no difficulty in doing such things around the V-Tower. Specifically, to Valentino. While Alastor’s pranks would be mild to most– often involving a play on words, his pranks on Valentino would be much more… severe. He might pour oil on the staircase in Valentino’s bedroom. Or replace his eye drops with acid. Alastor would find every second of Valentino’s suffering to be highly amusing. Valentino would regularly complain to Vox, who would jump to Alastor’s defense in a heartbeat. Alastor would never be scolded. There might be a time or two that Vox would ask him, in private, to cool down the intensity of his pranks on Valentino, but Vox would make no real effort to stop Alastor’s antics.

Alastor and Vox were best friends, first and foremost. They'd spend time together, whether it was inside the V-Tower or elsewhere. Alastor enjoyed walking around town, simply to people-watch. So, that’s what Vox would enjoy too. Only, he just people-watched Alastor. If they passed by a store and Alastor’s eyes lingered on something in the window for even a second too long, Vox would be at the cash register buying said item without a second thought. Alastor particularly did this with food. Vox had come to realize, however, that anything sweet Alastor looked at was more for how pretty it appeared rather than the taste. He wouldn’t buy Alastor anything sweet.

Alastor would end up needing a separate room in the V-Tower from his bedroom just to hold the trinkets and objects Vox would buy him. He also would have his own radio studio at the top of the tower. Vox would offer him assistants and secretaries, but Alastor would refuse, preferring to be a one-man show. Anyone else simply wasn’t good enough. Alastor’s bedroom and studio would be the most old-fashioned parts of the tower. He would keep to his old ways, preferring to do things the way he liked and was comfortable with. However, he wouldn’t be unreasonably averse to modern technology.

Alastor would own a cell phone. Vox would insist he did so he could call him or text him in an emergency. Alastor would barely touch it, often forget to take it with him, wouldn't remember to charge it, and when he texts, he'd type and reply so slowly it would give Velvette a headache. Vox would introduce him to mobile games at one point, searching through the app store to find something Alastor might like. He'd come across Plague Inc. and started playing it so Al could learn how to play. Alastor would end up falling asleep, bored by the entire experience. Vox would make a note that Alastor just didn’t like cell phones like a normal person would.

Alastor would hang out with Velvette a lot. She'd hate every second of it, which would only make Alastor enjoy her company even more. On several occasions, Velvette would end up calling Vox to come get his deer, “He’s distractin’ me!” And that he would be. He'd tell her jokes and bad puns until she yelled at him to shut up.

Alastor's only interactions with Valentino would be to make snide remarks or to prank him. However, some of Valentino’s employees would come into talking range with Alastor sometimes, and Alastor, forever the talkative, charismatic gentleman he was, would attempt to engage in conversation. So long as that conversation didn’t veer into inappropriate territory, which it usually didn’t. All of Valentino’s employees understood that Alastor and Valentino hated each other and were on opposite ends of the sexual spectrum. Actually, one employee managed to name Alastor’s lack of sexual interest. This person would have been Angel Dust.

“Asexual” Angel called him the third time they ran into each other. “Excuse me?” “You’re asexual. Ya don’t like sex. Like, at all.” Alastor would be offended that Angel even brought the topic up at first, and when Angel attempted to say it was okay to be asexual and it was just a word to describe people like him, Alastor would have scared him off with a tightened grin and a thinly veiled threat. But Alastor would think about this a lot, and eventually come to terms with it. He would ask Vox about it, and Vox wouldn’t be surprised in the least bit. Alastor would hold a bit of a soft spot for Angel Dust after this, but he’d never show it or admit to it.

Alastor would still own his soul. Niffty and Husk were his favorites, and he would summon them into the tower on occasion to handle some business. He didn’t like anyone touching his stuff, but he could trust Niffty and thus, she'd be his personal maid. Husk would become a secretary of sorts. Anything Alastor didn’t want to deal with, Husk was tasked with doing. From meeting with people on Al’s behalf to running errands. Even doing paperwork. Husk would be paid in booze.

Vox got to use Husk and Niffty too. Niffty would be the only one delicate enough to dust the wires in his control room and not mess anything up. Husk would be tasked with feeding Vox’s sharks from time to time. Husk would quickly become afraid of sharks.

Vox would attend Carmilla’s meetings with Alastor; Velvette and Valentino would not. Vox would always sit next to Al, pulling his chair a bit closer to Alastor than the other overlords sat from each other. No one would mention it. It would be a common belief in Hell that Alastor and Vox were secretly a couple, but no one would dare to voice it out loud. Rosie would sit on Alastor’s other side.

After the meetings, Rosie, Vox, and Alastor would all go out to eat somewhere. Seeing as Alastor and Vox were good friends, it would be only natural for Rosie to develop a friendship with Vox as well. Whenever Alastor left the table, Rosie would prod Vox to confess his feelings to Alastor. Vox would deny he had any. Whenever Vox left the table, Rosie would prompt Alastor to tell her his thoughts on Vox. Alastor’s thoughts would always be vague but positive. Rosie could get nowhere with them.

Speaking of Alastor’s friends, Vox and Mimzy would have a bickering relationship. They’d argue a lot, but they both cared for Alastor, in their own ways. Sometimes, Alastor would get too rowdy or feral and Vox would pay Mimzy to deal with him and return him home safely. Alastor would always come home drunk, and Vox would put him to bed. He loved tucking Alastor into bed and making sure he was safe and snuggled up in his silky, hoof-print sheets. Alastor would wake up the next morning with a hangover and no memory of what happened the night before. Mimzy would also have no memory of what happened. Luckily for Vox, his placement of cameras all over the city and inside most buildings would prove useful. Once he put Alastor to bed, Vox would roam through the camera footage and watch what took place. It would always be Alastor and Mimzy drinking too much, dancing on tables, and then stumbling around, disappearing into his shadows, reappearing, looking around confused, then eventually finding his way back to the V-Tower. On days when Vox was particularly worried about Alastor, he’d watch the camera feeds in real-time, spying on Alastor’s time with Mimzy.

Alastor would enjoy being part of the Vees and Vox would be so happy to have Alastor close by. Ahh, what could’ve been!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #radiostatic #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbinhotel velvette #hazbin hotel ask blog #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel angel dust

[milkyrrr]

(Inspired by @mono-the-robot artwork)

Awakening

Emptiness. Silence. Darkness.

Nothing. That's all Eclipse felt when he died. He didn't want anything. He didn't wish anything. Only rest in peace.

What was he feeling when he suddenly woke up? He could feel his whole body itching and aching with pain. He couldn't even make a sound to express how uncomfortable he was. He didn't understand what was going on. Some kind of noise that seemed to be trying to get through the vacuum to his auditory module, the darkness gradually dissipating in front of his visual module and turning into a vague veil before his eyes... Where is he?.. What is happening?.. Is this life after death?..

The body gave in to the movements with difficulty. Eclipse could barely move a finger, let alone turn his head and look around.

Hunger. This is the next thing he felt after the aching pain all over his body. He felt hunger with every cell of his body, with every atom of his existence. Is it possible? He's an animatronic, they don't need to eat food!

But...

It was a wild hunger. The desire to tear apart. Biting into someone's throat. To hear the screams of agony and horror of the victim.

What is it? Had the kill code awakened in him? No, Eclipse did not deny, he always had a craving for murder, he literally consisted of it, but it seemed to him that he put this thirst for murder and the suffering of victims into Bloodmoon, partially getting rid of it in himself. He wanted to be smarter than his dumb father and... brothers? Children? Eclipse didn't care about these family ties. He considered Bloodmoon to be nothing more than a creation that got out of control. Oh, if he had been a little more far-sighted then, he and Bloodmoon could have made a lot of chaos. Perhaps his plan could even come true.

But that was in the past. He died. So why does he feel this way then?

"....ke up..."

What?

"......Wake up....."

Where did that voice come from?

"Wake up, Eclipse."

Eclipse felt an electric shock run through his body. And then finally he heard himself. He screamed.

And he saw.

"Oh, I see you're already awake," nodded someone standing in the shadows, quickly clicking something on some device and turning off the flow of electricity. Eclipse felt his arms and legs become lighter. He was able to get up and sit down on the table where he had been lying all this time. Oh, that's it. He was literally strapped in without being able to move. That was the reason of the strange pressure on his whole body.

Head tightened into a ring of pain. Eclipse growled in displeasure, clutching it and squinting. It hurted so much. Unfortunately, it doesn't feel like life after death. It usually doesn't hurt after death. At least, not in such a "mortal" way if that was even possible.

"I'm hungry," Eclipse said irritably, realizing that he wasn't alone in this strange dim room, "I don't know who you are and nor do I care, because you're going to die right now."

The animatronic abruptly jumped up from his bunk, rushing towards the shadow in the dark. But suddenly his whole body shuddered and froze just a few inches away from the stranger. Eclipse opened his eyes wide in amazement.

Those eyes....

"What is it? Why did you stop?" He heard the sneer in fusion's voice.

He knew this guy. This dumb fusion... They didn't cross paths personally, but Eclipse knew of his existence.

How... what... Why?...

"Why?"

"Why what, dear? You should word your questions more precisely if you want to hear accurate answers," Ruin cooed playfully, bypassing Eclipse and finally appearing in full height in front of him. His mutilated body left a lot to be desired, there was a feeling that it was enough to bend this little man for him to split in half. But for some reason, Eclipse couldn't hurt him.

"Why did you remade me? Without a purpose? For fun? In order to use in your stupid doomed to fail plans? What do you want from me?" He growled in displeasure. Head still hurt. And hunger burned inside. Eclipse roared in angrily, slamming his fist hard against the iron wall, leaving a small dent.

Ruin didn't even flinch.

"Don't worry, my dear Eclipse. I'll give you a purpose. I am your purpose," he took Eclipse's face in his hands, forcing him to bend over, "Oh, I see... I see this anger and hunger in your eyes... You're just gorgeous," he whispered enthusiastically.

"My perfect creation. Don't worry, this is just the beginning of our rise. Very soon our eclipse will cover the sun, the moon, and no one will stop us. Come on, my errand boy. I know how to satisfy your hunger..."

#tsams #sams #sun and moon show #my art #sams ruin #tsams ruin #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #sams au #tsams au #the sun and moon show #villainous trio au

[foundtherightwords]

The Hollow Heart - Chapter 1

Pairing: Hellcheer, Gothic AU

Summary: To escape her mother's control and the stifling society of Gilded Age New York, heiress Christabel Cunningham impulsively marries Henry Creel, a charming and seductive stranger, and accompanies him to his remote mansion on the West Coast. There, as Henry grows cold and cruel, Christabel must uncover her husband's sinister secret before it's too late. But can she trust Kas, her husband's enigmatic assistant, who seems to be her only ally in this strange place, or is Kas's loyalty to his master stronger than his attraction to Christabel?

A/N: This was inspired by the moodboard for "Vecna's Bride" by @a-strange-inkling. I saw the title and the Gothic imagery and my imagination just ran wild.

I changed the names to differentiate them from my Regency AU and better fit the Gothic vibe, so Chrissy is now Christabel (after the poem by Coleridge; the fic title and chapter titles are also quotes from the poem) and Eddie is Kas, because I took some inspiration from the D&D lore of Vecna and Kas (big thanks to @waterfallsilverberrywrites for helping me with that!) When I did a poll, the consensus was that Eddie's Gothic name should be Edmund, but... I prefer Kas :P (I already have plans to use Edmund for another AU.)

Chapter warnings: none (but Eddie doesn't appear in this chapter yet... please bear with me)

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter 1 - At the Old Oak Tree

Christabel ran.

In the distance, she could hear the shouts and cheers of the hunting party, the excited barking of the dogs, and the occasional gunshots, cracking sharply in the crisp autumn air. She was not far enough. Lifting her heavy wool skirt above her knees, she pushed deeper into the bushes. The dead leaves from years past formed a soft carpet under her feet, muffling the sound of her steps, while the leaves of this year, despite having turned all shades of gold and crimson on the trees, had not yet fallen, so she need not worry about being discovered from their crunch underfoot. She hoped the party was not headed this way. After all her endeavors to snatch a moment alone, she intended to savor it to its fullest.

Christabel Cunningham hadn't had many opportunities to be alone in her twenty-three years on Earth. The only daughter of a wealthy New York businessman, she had been since birth surrounded by nurses and governesses and servants, who took care of her under the watchful eyes of her mother. Her father had died, quite suddenly, of a heart attack, when Christabel was only a child. Christabel did not miss him. To her, he was but a dim, distant figure, always away on business trips, or holed up in his study when at home, hiding from his wife, leaving Christabel to bear the brunt of her mother's nagging. The sole mark he'd left on Christabel's life was her name, given to her by him in a fit of romanticism, much to the disapproval of Mrs. Cunningham, who preferred classic names like Elizabeth or Catherine or Amelia. His death didn't leave much of a void behind.

Her mother, an ambitious and exacting woman, embittered by her failure to have a son and by becoming a widow so young, had poured all her affection and thwarted dreams upon her daughter, smothering the girl with them. She dictated everything Christabel wore and ate and read and play, and all the friends Christabel made and all the parties Christabel attended had to be approved by her. And so Christabel had grown up with her books and her dolls, lonely but never alone.

In truth, she hadn't been allowed to attend a lot of parties. As she grew up and learned more about her father's will, Christabel discovered a more mercenary side to what she'd once thought was her mother's overprotectiveness. As the trustee of her daughter's inheritance, Mrs. Cunningham could enjoy a lavish lifestyle, a townhouse on Fifth Avenue, a summer cottage in Newport, the latest fashion in her wardrobe and the most luxurious dishes on her table. But as soon as Christabel was married, she would be in charge of her own fortune, and Mrs. Cunningham would be left with half of what she was used to. Christabel believed that to prevent this, her mother would have locked her away forever, like Rapunzel in her tower.

But social standing has its advantages. Afraid of the wagging tongues of the town, the whispers behind closed doors that she was keeping her daughter from society to hold on to her money, Mrs. Cunningham had reluctantly allowed Christabel to make her debut when she came of age. Since then, her days had been filled with balls and theater trips in the winter, tennis matches and yacht races in the summer, giggling friends and fawning suitors, still under the watchful eyes of her mother. It was tedious, but Christabel had endured it because it was better than staying at home, surrounding by the dark walls of her room and feeling her mother's disapproving stare on her at all times. Besides, that was what was expected of all the debutantes. Smile, dance, flirt, ride, sketch or sing a little, play a little piano, speak a bit of French, a bit of German, be amusing but not sarcastic, be vivacious but not feisty, be modest but not withdrawn, and hopefully make an advantageous match, and then have daughters and watch them go through the same thing, over and over again.

Christabel knew she would not break free of this cycle. Her whole life she had been taught to do what she was told, to never question, to never put a foot out of line. But as her own, feeble form of rebellion, she made it a point to refuse every proposal she'd ever received—and there had been plenty of them. With her delicate features, dewy skin, wide blue eyes, and strawberry blonde hair, Christabel always turned heads in every room she walked in. It was true that her nose was slightly upturned and her front teeth were slightly crooked, but these flaws were seen as charming, not defective. And if her manners were at times rather listless and uninterested, well, her inheritance could more than make up for it. So a lot of men had fallen in love with her, or at least with her beauty, or with her money, and had proposed, but she had refused them all.

When Mrs. Cunningham found out about these refusals, Christabel always had a believable reason to convince her mother of her decision—the family had an unpleasant reputation, their fortunes were not equal, or the boy himself did not have a promising enough prospect. Mrs. Cunningham was appeased, for a while, but after two seasons and Christabel remained unmarried, she began to grow uneasy and warned her daughter of the perils of spinsterhood.

To all her admonishment, Christabel said nothing. It wasn't that she wanted to be an old maid for the rest of her life, far from it. But unlike other young women, who dreamed of marriage as a celebration of love or even as a way to further their social connections, Christabel saw it as a means to freedom. And none of the men in her circle could give her that freedom she so thirsted. They all grew from the same stocks, the same root. If she married one of them, she would move in the same circle, lead the same life, beating a tired circle from Manhattan to Newport and back again, perhaps with the occasional trip to Europe, but still seeing the same faces, doing the same thing as everybody else, and never be free of her mother.

For that summer season, Christabel had tried to convince her mother to go to London or Paris, or, if they had to stay, then she was secretly hoping—as hateful as it sounded—to catch the eyes of a European aristocrat, many of whom were flocking to America in search of an heiress to restore their family fortune. Europe would be the ultimate escape. However, her mother disliked traveling, and although Christabel's inheritance was sizeable, it was not large enough to draw the attention of an impoverish earl or baronet.

At least her mother had accepted Mrs. Carver's invitation to their summer mansion in Tuxedo Park for two weeks of English-style country party. There were to be riding and shooting and picnics in the woods, all culminating in a costume ball on All Hallows' Eve. They had just come back from Newport, worn out and looking forward to some quiet days to recover before the winter season, so Christabel had been afraid her mother would refuse, knowing her dislike of the outdoors. But an invitation to the exclusive Tuxedo Park was hard to come by, and when Mrs. Cunningham learned the party was thrown for Mrs. Carver's eldest, Jason, who had just come back from Yale, nothing could have kept her away.

Jason Carver. Christabel sighed. All the debutantes were in love with him, though to Christabel, he had always been just a good friend, nothing more. She'd never imagined he would set his sight on her, not when he was always surrounded by so many other girls. So it had come as a complete shock when, after a dinner party at the Carvers' mansion, Jason had asked to speak to her alone in the gazebo overlooking Tuxedo Lake. There, while the moonlight rippled over the water, turning the surface of the lake into a broken mirror, he had taken Christabel's hands in his and, tremblingly, haltingly, asked her to marry him.

For the first time, Christabel had hesitated.

Jason was one of her few childhood friends her mother had approved of, as the Carvers' Manhattan residence was not far from the Cunninghams'. He had always been kind and attentive to her, and unlike some men, she knew he cared not a jot for her inheritance, since the Carvers was one of the richest and most prominent families in the city. A marriage between her and Jason would send her mother to Heaven.

That was the problem, of course. Christabel never wanted to do anything her mother wished.

"If we are to marry, can we live here?" she'd asked. It sounded as though she had accepted him already, but she didn't care. She looked around at the untamed parkland of the mansion, with the woods surrounding it on all sides and the sparkling lake in the distance. It may not be far enough from her mother, but it would be something.

"Of course!" Jason had said, squeezing her hands. "We'll come here for the summer, and—"

"No, you mistook me. I don't mean for the summer. I mean permanently."

Jason had laughed at that, thinking it was a joke. "We can't possibly live here! I have my business in town, and there's nobody here for half of the year anyway. Why would you want to live here?"

Christabel had tried to say that she wanted to live in Tuxedo Park precisely because there was nobody there for half of the year, but one look at Jason and she knew he wouldn't understand. Nobody would.

"I'm sorry, I can't," she'd said and withdrawn her hands.

She'd half-hoped Jason would try to get her to change her mind, that he would say they could live anywhere as long as they were together, but he had only shaken his head, said, "It's not meant to be then," bowed, and gone back inside, leaving her alone on the shore of that moonlit lake. Of course. No amount of love could be enough to compel a man to throw away his whole life like that, and even if he had made the offer, she couldn't possibly have accepted such a sacrifice. Perhaps it was for the best.

Still, that hadn't stopped things from being rather tense and awkward between them when they set out for the hunt that morning. Christabel had never enjoyed hunting, but she jumped at any chance to be outdoors, to be able to walk and run and move freely without being criticized for not acting ladylike enough. And another reason—her mother, having no interest in hunting and riding, always stayed behind on such occasions. That morning, though, Christabel could feel Jason's mournful eyes on her whenever she turned. She'd only wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but it was difficult when she was surrounded by the hunting party with their guns and dogs and servants. It was only when they came across a flock of partridges and the others' attention was diverted that she managed to slip into the woods.

Now, as she walked through the trees, Christabel pondered her situation. Would it be so bad, being married to Jason? It would at least let her be mistress of her own life... except that life would still be tied to another's. No, if she simply wanted to claim her inheritance, she would've married the first man that proposed and had done with it. This regret was simply because she had started to feel anxious about her future. Could she go on like this until her mother died? Could she live as a spinster, becoming brittle and bitter in her old age, facing the pity and contempt of others? Christabel felt the old, helpless anger toward her father blaze up inside her once more when she thought about the predicament he'd placed her in. What was the use of ensuring no one could touch her inheritance, if she had to saddle herself to a man to claim it?

She passed through the line of trees and came to a clearing on the side of a hill, gently sloping toward a small glen, where an old oak tree spread its cape of gold leaves over a murmuring brook. It seemed something straight out of a Washington Irving story—all that was missing was a covered bridge. Tucking her skirt into the top of her gaiters, Christabel threw her arms over her head and sprinted down the slope, letting the cool air fill her lungs and clear her head.

Near the bottom of the slope, her skirt slipped out of the gaiters and tangled around her legs. Her ankles twisted under her and sent her tumbling down. She rolled head over heels the last few feet before skidding to a stop right by the oak. Luckily, the hill wasn't steep, and her fall had been more embarrassing than painful. She cursed under her breath. When they received Mrs. Carver's invitation, Christabel had begged and begged her mother to let her have a split skirt for the occasion so she could move about with more ease and perhaps even learn to ride a bicycle, as some of her friends had, but Mrs. Cunningham had insisted that her old riding habit, with its long trailing skirt, would do just fine. Christabel shouldn't do much walking or moving about anyway, Mrs. Cunningham had argued. Men wouldn't be interested in overly energetic girls. And as for riding a bicycle, showing off her legs in those newfangled bloomers, like some common hoyden? Forget about it.

"Are you all right, miss?" a voice said somewhere over her head.

Christabel looked up and saw a pair of blue eyes. A man had stepped out from the other side of the oak tree and was looking down at her. She suddenly became aware that she was sprawled on the ground with her skirt hiked up over her knees. She bolted up and pulled her skirt down, face burning crimson.

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine, thank you," she sputtered, struggling to her feet.

Her ankle turned painfully. The man reached out a hand to help her. His grip was firm and strong.

"Thank you." Christabel peered at him more closely. He was dressed for a day out in tweed and stout boots, but with a walking stick, not a gun. "Are you with the Carver hunting party?" she asked, for she did not remember seeing him. He was a little older than Jason and her circle of friends, in his late twenties or early thirties perhaps, tall, with a fine-boned, elegant-looking face. But what startled her the most was his eyes, as clear and blue as the sky above, fixed upon her with an expression of fascination and interest quite unlike anything she'd received from her suitors. She reached a self-conscious hand to her hair, trying to dislodge any dry leaf that may have gotten stuck there.

"Carver? No, no, I'm a guest of Dr. Brenner."

Christabel's eyebrows shot up. Dr. Brenner was an eccentric who had inherited one of the largest fortunes in New York, but rather than continuing to run the family business, he had devoted his time to studies of the occult and other esoteric sciences. Unlike most of the residents of Tuxedo Park, who only kept their mansions here as holiday homes, he lived in a cottage deep in the woods year round, engaging in all sorts of obscure experiments, never interacting much with his neighbors. They tolerated him out of respect for his family name; some saw him as a harmless old fool and even invited him to some of their parties to show him off to their out-of-town friends, much like the ornamental hermits that the English aristocrats of old often kept on their grounds. Unfortunately, the Carvers were not one of these open-minded people, so Christabel had never met Dr. Brenner. She had to admit that she sometimes felt envious of him and the male privileges that allowed him to give up his family business, but not his wealth, and pursue his true passion. Alas, no such luck for her.

And here was this man, claiming to be a guest of the mysterious doctor! Her curiosity was pique immediately.

"Are you?" she asked, with interest. "I didn't know he ever invited anyone here. You must be a man of science or some sort of scholar, for him to allow you to encroach on his solitude. What is your business with him?" Then she colored again, realizing how intrusive her question was. Usually she never allowed herself to behave so casually with a gentleman, but there was something about this man that freed her from the confines of propriety. Or perhaps it was the scene around them, the wild woods and the open sky that had no use for etiquette. Still, the habits of upbringing were hard to shake off, so she cast her eyes downward and murmured, "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to pry."

"Not at all," the man said with a friendly smile. "As a matter of fact, my family came from this area before it was developed, and Dr. Brenner is helping me to research our history. I'm just looking for the ruins of their village."

"Oh. That sounds very interesting."

"And if there's anyone who must be pardoned," the man continued, "it should be me, for I have been so presumptuous in talking to you without so much as an introduction. You must allow me to make amends, Miss—"

"Cunningham. Christabel Cunningham," she said.

"What an unusual and beautiful name." The man looked into the distance. "The lovely lady, Christabel, whom her father loves so well. What makes her in the wood so late, a furlong from the castle gate?" he recited in his rich, musical voice whose reverberation seemed to reach Christabel's very core.

She laughed to hide her blush. "A very fitting quote. Only it's not so very late, and while the Carver mansion is grand, it is far from a castle," she said. "And I'm simply taking a walk, not praying for my betrothed. In fact"—the noise from the hunting party had ceased, and she realized it must be nearly time for luncheon—"I'm just heading back now."

"And alas, I am no Geraldine," the man said. "But may I accompany you anyway?" He extended an arm toward her.

Christabel hesitated, thinking what her mother would say about walking in the woods with a stranger. But surely, there was no harm in it. The hunting party was not so far away, and she could always tell the truth—that she had gotten hurt, and this man was helping her. She took the proffered arm, and they started walking toward the Carver mansion, not following the route Christabel had, but taking the longer way, along the lakeshore, Christabel hobbling to keep up with the man's long strides. There was a dull ache in her ankle, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to complain.

"I see that you are an admirer of Coleridge, like my father," Christabel said.

"Your father must be a man of great taste then."

Her smile disappeared. "I wouldn't know. He died when I was very little." She caught herself again. Why was she telling this man, whom she met not five minutes ago and whose name she still didn't know, all these things about herself?

"Oh, I am so very sorry." The man took off his cap, revealing longish blonde hair that fell over his forehead in soft curls. His eyes were full of sympathy. "I know how difficult it is, losing one's parents. My own parents—" His voice hitched. "They died when I was very young as well. An earthquake, in San Francisco."

Christabel's heart panged with sympathy. "That must be horrible."

Those brilliant blue eyes dimmed for a moment. "It was."

"So you live in San Francisco?"

"I do, yes."

"What is it like?" she asked eagerly. Outside of Newport and occasionally the Catskills, she had never been anywhere. She had never even left the state of New York.

Before the man could answer, she put her weight on the sore ankle by mistake and let out an involuntary yelp. He turned to her, all solicitous concern. "Have you hurt yourself in the fall?" he asked.

"I must have," she replied reluctantly.

Tucking his cap into a pocket, he knelt down, took her ankle in his hand, and gently turned it this way and that. "Does this hurt?"

"Only a little," she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, that won't do." He put one arm around her and the other under her knees, scooping her up easily as though she weighed no more than a feather. "I should have noticed sooner," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right." Christabel was feeling a little dazed. None of her suitors had ever picked her up like that—indeed, none of them ever touched so much as the hem of her skirt without asking for permission first. She found that she didn't mind being handled, didn't mind the lack of permission-seeking. Nestling against his chest, she glanced shyly up at her gallant rescuer. Despite his slender frame, he was carrying her across the uneven terrain with no effort at all. The sun was shining upon his blonde hair, turning it into a gold helmet, and his blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her. She was glad they were taking the longer route.

But all too soon, the shingled walls of the Carver mansion appeared behind the trees, and the hunting party came into view. Christabel was afraid her rescuer would put her down the moment they came upon the others, but if anything, his hold around her seemed to tighten.

"There you are, Christabel," Jason said, stepping forward. "We were about to send out a search party—" His countenance changed upon seeing her in the arms of the stranger. "What happened?"

"Miss Cunningham had a bit of an accident," the man said. "I happened to come across her and took the liberty of escorting her home."

"How fortunate," Jason said, his voice icy. He all but yanked Christabel out of the other man's arms, as though she was a child, or worse, a doll, a toy to be fought over.

"I'm perfectly all right, Jason," Christabel said, fighting to put her feet on the ground. "It's just a sprain."

Jason relented and put her down. Christabel turned to her rescuer, who was replacing his cap on his hat, preparing to go. "Thank you so much," she said. "I hope I haven't delayed you from your quest."

"It was my pleasure. It's not every day a beautiful lady fell from the sky and landed at your feet, is it?"

She couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face. "I still don't know your name."

"Haven't I told you?" He looked confused.

Christabel frowned, trying to recall. "No, I don't think so."

"Ah." He tipped his cap at her. "Henry Creel, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Will I see you again, Mr. Creel?"

He flashed her another of his dazzling smiles. "You can count upon it." Then, with a bow in the general direction of the hunting party, who was staring at him, he turned and disappeared into the woods.

As usual, if you want to be tagged, drop me a line! Any likes/reblogs/comments will be greatly appreciated, thank you!

#hellcheer #hellcheer fic #hellcheer au #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #henry creel #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #kas!eddie #vampire!eddie munson

[moonstrider9904]

And so, the last Bad Batch Eve falls upon us.

It is surreal to think that a show that has meant so much to me for three years will come to an end. I've talked about how meaningful TBB is to me many times, and I most certainly will in the future, but I didn't want to pass on the opportunity to do it on the last Bad Batch Eve we'll officially have.

The night before Aftermath premiered, I'd struggled with some pretty bad anxiety. In the weeks following after that and throughout the first season, I dealt with depression and anxiety being diagnosed as well as an ear infection the doctor attributed to said mental illnesses. I went through a pretty bad breakup. The lockdowns were at their peak where I was. But despite that being a rough time, I also vividly remember being in my room at home, my favorite place in the world, eating my favorite food and drinking my favorite relaxing tea, hearing it rain outside, wearing my favorite hoodie and my PJs, watching/rewatching those season 1 episodes. Seeing Crosshair deal with the inhibitor chip seemed to echo some of what I was going through, i.e. having something in your head you couldn't really control. I wondered how afraid he must have felt, and I sympathized with him.

During S2, as Crosshair was off with the Empire, I was off living in my hometown the first time, away from my true home and my family, and I have to admit I was very lost during that time. I did make mistakes. I did return home, and I left it again, albeit now more ready, more prepared, more stable. But it was still a second time leaving home.

S3 Crosshair has all but solidified my intent in going back home and not freaking leaving and I really hope the day in which I can return home to my family the way he did is sooner rather than later. Seeing him grow, own up to his mistakes, forgive and be forgiven, learn to control what's in his head, and heal, feels like a very fitting peak to a journey, a journey that had and still has its ups and downs.

And let's not forget the writing and the fandom. I have written things I didn't think I'd write, things I've loved so much that part of me wants to go back in time and rewrite to experience the joy of doing it all over again (looking at Moonlight here lol). I have also made gifs, which I didn't ever imagine doing! I edited music videos and crack meme compilations, which I had wanted to do for years. Fear not, I'll keep doing all of that - slowly, yes, but not with any less love. Y'all are stuck with me. 😁🩷

And as if all I've mentioned wasn't already very valuable, I cannot forget all the beautiful, wonderful, amazing people I've met because of this show. People who I've learned from, laughed with, cried with, fangirled with, gamed with... every single one of you has been the icing on the cake, the lattice on the pie, the parmesan on the pasta. You have all truly made this worth it and make me love being in the fandom. You give what I do a greater purpose, and you have become people I am happy to call moots and friends. I am over the moon that this show allowed me to cross paths with you. @photogirl894 @rebekadjarin @darthzero22 @arctrooper69 @jedi-hawkins @stardustbee @s-pirth-lemonade @eloquentmoon @sageislostinspring @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @kimageddon @emperor-palpaminty @rainydaydream-gal18 @imabeautifulbutterfly @paperback-rascal @pankeki-25 @dragonrebelrose @dragonrider9905 @questforgalas @lightwise @zoruui @nunanuggets @misogirl828 and everyone else 🩵

I love The Bad Batch and what it's done for my life in so many aspects. I love these characters for their growth and because they were there for me when nobody was, and because they brought me to so many amazing people. I am grateful that this show exists and I cannot wait to keep creating all the stuff I have planned, writing or otherwise.

Thank you, Clone Force 99, and thank you everyone for being a part of this journey!

🩷🌙

#moonstrider speaks #the bad batch #star wars tbb #clone force 99 #star wars #bad batch eve #tbb #tbb season 3

[mazzystar24]

Asking this under anon bc i don’t wanna get any backlash in my inbox lmao

but to start this off: i love oliver stark, and i am so appreciative of how important he views this storyline and the representation it provides

however

i am going to be very disappointed in him if we get through the next few episodes, and it becomes clear that they aren’t going to further develop buddie anymore. he has always been so careful and cautious when it comes to implying things in interviews/press stuff, but lately with this resurgence in his response to fandom interest with buddie (liking fanart, reposting it, talking openly about buddie in interviews, confirming things like buck thinking eddie was attractive, etc.) if they don’t go that route, it will honestly severely hurt me.

i have very mixed feelings about what is and isn’t “queerbaiting” (most of my friends would say i tend to not believe that it’s a thing, and to an extent i agree) but there are certain situations in which something does blatantly feel like baiting… to me this is one of those situations.

with both lou and edy still being around, as well as ryan’s sudden stint in pr jail, the fandom’s obsession w lou/tommy, and tim minear’s seeming interest in complying with fan-service… it’s hard to remain optimistic that they will actually give us buddie. the past two weeks have given me whiplash as a buddie fan and i am getting tired of the show using our desperation and love for this ship as a marketing tactic when they have no intention of going there (tim minear himself saying things like “i don’t like to plan endgame relationships” or “there are no plans for buddie at the moment”).

that is why the media’s sudden obsession with asking about buddie, as well as oliver’s willingness to interact with buddie content online combined with the constant flow from the set of things not going in the direction of buddie… it feels very intentional to drag us in. and if oliver is participating in that, then i am going to be very disappointed and hurt by that. he used to care so much about not getting our hopes up, but lately it feels like that isn’t the case anymore, and that getting our hopes up is their way if getting us to continue watching the show because they know that people will stop watching after having to watch years of buildup and (at times admittedly) roment subtext between them just for all of that to be completely retconned and them to say “no-homo, bro” in favor of a character/ship that came out of nowhere and has had no development.

obviously, i don’t blame os for the storyline- he’s not a writer, he doesn’t get to dictate what does or doesn’t happen. But he is the one getting all of the media attention, and using that to shine a spotlight on buddie when (if) he knows that buddie isn’t happening? it feels very icky to me and i really don’t want to have a reason to dislike him.

unfortunately it’s seeming more and more like a possibility each day as we get inundated with bts info that doesn’t bode well for us at all.

I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with you anon sorry😭🫶

If buddie doesn’t go canon/ they don’t show they’re heading in that direction in the next few episodes, I still would not blame Oliver at ALL for his recent more openness about buddie

(Idk how familiar you are with me and if you are you’ll know this but if you’re not lemme clarify I use bulletpoints a lot but not to be curt or rude I just like breaking things into chunks🫡)

1. He has made sure to constantly clarify that he doesn’t know how things are gonna go and he has no control over things- i mean EVERY time he spoke about buddie

2. He’s also a fan of the show guys, yes yes he’s an actor and it has different implications I agree 100% but also if he’s choosing to ship his character or enjoy fan work that’s his prerogative and sure he can lurk privately like he has in the past but also he probably knows that implications aside fans who make that work will be ecstatic to see him actually liking the stuff

3. The man legit said he deleted social media at one point cos he didn’t wanna like or share stuff that’d accidentally give people false hope for buddie or bi Buck but he has silently agreed for years and he hated not being able to confirm bi buck till now

4. He’s been a HUGE advocate for us both on the buddie front and bi buck front and that deserves recognition

5. As you said there is a LOT of bucktommy love rn which is great and all but may draw focus away from buddie, if Oliver is intentionally trying to get buddie fans to keep going it could genuinely just to show that buddie fans are still aiming for buddie endgame and that they still make up a huge portion of the fandom

6. Writing is CONSTANTLY in progress on 911 so again buddie fans being more vocal and abc and writers seeing such positive responses to him so much as interacting with buddie posts or answering buddie questions give them a gauge of audience’s wants (granted Tim has stated it’s not a HUGE factor for him) and also keep in mind s8 is still in the books so even proposals of storylines may be in the talks rn

7. When he talks he is VERY careful about his words and is very well spoken on the topic like yes there have been more stuff we can read into and be optimistic about but you can tell that he in no way is saying specific things to bait people, when talking about existing buddie things he talks about HIS interpretation and uses lots of maybes and might’ve beens and I see how that could be and when he talks about future buddie he talks about being open to it talks about what he’d want from it and he talks about not having control or knowledge of it happening

So yeah he has done/said things that I absolutely think warrant optimism (I made a whole post about it) but if it doesn’t pan out that optimism should a- still be there b- not turn into blame for him

Okay now Oliver aside- the questions being asked about buddie and all the buddie promotions I would be side eyeing the higher ups for if it’s for nothing because yes all the articles and stuff are stuff being pre-approved by abc and the people higher up than cast members or the journalists but I would also keep in mind that s8 is still in the works so hope is not lost even if s7 isn’t what we hoped for because keep in mind we had only 10 eps to work with too

#911 #buddie #evan buckley #thanks anon! #911 abc #eddie diaz #911 fox #evan buck buckley #911onfox #buckley diaz family #asks open #send asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks

[dairy-farmer]

Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/

D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:

Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.

Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.

Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.

So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.

Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.

But why target a minor gaming company?

No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.

The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.

You could always be wrong.

And that KILLS.

Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!

Red Robin does not respond.

And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.

Where the fuck is h-*DING!*

Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.

Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.

So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.

Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.

Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?

Wrong.

The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.

Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.

Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?

He has no idea what he's doing.

He doesn't PLAY these type of games.

He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?

Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!

Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".

No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?

He can fix that too.

They have time.

Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)

Tim wakes up in the starting room.

This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.

Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!

He keeps going.

Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...

So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.

Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.

Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.

The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.

Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.

He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.

Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.

All while they watch.

Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.

They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".

Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?

-🐼🐼🐼

tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[badbatcher-99]

Season Finale Predictions

⚠️ Y’all know the drill ⚠️ spoilers below ⬇️

We’re doomed …

Haha just kidding let’s get into it 👏 there is so much that can happen this episode I think it’s pretty much impossible to predict what’s going to happen. I mean there are a few things we can predict but as to how the other 90% of this finale is going to go is beyond me.

1) zillo beast 💕

first things first… not so much a prediction as more of truth… we know omega is going to free the zillo beast, we don’t know how and we don’t know how that’s going to affect everything else. She could release it early on, or it be released late in the game. I can certainly see it being released pretty early or atleast halfway through the episode to amp up the stakes, cause the zillo beast is her own being, she’s pretty angry, and she is going to rampage against everything. I don’t think anyone is going to be able to control her. Her release is not only going to be problem for hemlock but for the bad batch and omega as well even if it does serve to help them out in some way. It certainly adds some unpredictability to the episodes events. Just like her first appearance in the bad batch, she is very much Alien esque. She’s in the walls, she’s hiding, you never quite know where she is or where she will strike next. She’s big so she’s gong to cause carnage but she’s going to go where she wants. I place my money on the fact that she will destroy Tantis and also kill hemlock or in someway be responsible for his demise. Hemlock said to omega “actions have consequences” or to some effect if that… and that’s what this will end up being for him. I can very well imagine somehow after the climax hemlock is able to scurry away, and he thinks he’s in the clear only for the zillo beast to pop up and gobble him up. Think like that imperial captain dying at the end of s3e4. A small part of season 3 has also been showing how far reaching hemlock’s research has been: the clones, the creepy black vines, palpatine clones, the children, the zillo beast. I think it’s safe to say that after all the harm he’s done, his experiments are going to bite back hard. He’s going to get what’s coming to him.

2) Emerie and Echo

I think omega and the children are going to escape before emerie and echo get to them. There’s no reason for the writers to show us omegas escape plan if she was going to get saved before she could even execute it. I think echo and emerie are actually going to end up being the ones to release the clone prisoners. They either do this before going to find omega or after they find out omegas escaped. I can very well see them letting the prisoners go first… and then before they can even head towards omega the zillo beast is unleashed and all plans are thrown out the window. This is one of the predictions that I’m pretty unsure about, I can see this happening in just not sure how it will happen and how it will seamlessly meld with the plot. I also am not sure how emerie would be able to get echo down to the vault anyway. It seems like only commandos are allowed down that far so unless they find a commando uniform I don’t think they are going to make it all the way there without raising suspicion.

3) CX-2

Lots of opportunities for CX-2 in the finale. These two images pretty much foreshadow some shadow clone captain or leader making an appearance in the end. He’s got different armor and a pretty brutal looking weapon

Now I’m not sure if CX-2 is going to be the one to use the big suit or if there is another clone that has been brainwashed specifically to wear this suit. My money is on Hemlock unleashing CX-2 to find and eliminate the bad batch. It’s obvious they are making their way slow and steady towards the base, hemlocks trick card is the shadow clones, he uses them to get what he wants and I have no doubts he’ll use CX-2 to clean up this mess. I don’t know if this confrontation will happen outside or inside the base though. Cause CX-2 has been a thorn in the batches side for a few episodes, especially to crosshair. I think either we get another one on one battle between CX-2 and crosshair or we get the whole batch versus CX-2. I can see both happening. The major question though is “is CX-2 tech?” If he is then I think we would get the whole squad versus tech so that there’s the shared experience of his reveal. But if it’s not I can see a one on one fight being the way to go because overcoming Cx-2 is like a finale to crosshairs character arc, he’s overcoming his past. Im not really sure when this reveal would happen though. I can see it happening early on or in the middle. I’d really like it if it happened earlier on then we would get the whole squad going in… i wouldn’t really want it to be a middle part of the episode cause I think the much meaner looking CX clone is going to be one of the main bosses… though if it turns out the meaner looking CX outfit is just an outfit meant to be worn by CX-2 then yeah I can see this fight happening in the middle of the episode. Idk this is getting pretty complicated. A tech reveal would be a major moment, so I don’t know how early in the episode that can happen. My other theory is that the meaner looking clone is Cody, but I’m not really behind it.

4) Rex and the clone rebellion

I 100% believe Rex is going to arrive with the clone rebellion. I think in echos last moments on the ship he was able to get word out. But not sure how he could do that if long range coms are monitored. I’d like to think that when Rex arrives, Wolfe is with him 💕 and that’s how we get the how did wolffe leave the empire reveal. Bonus points if Gregor is right beside them too and we get the old man trio ! I think there will be a tag up with the clone prisoners and it’ll be a storm trooper versus clone trooper battle. Hopefully scorch gets his head banged a bit and joins the fight with the clones.

5) rampart!

This is so up in the air. Last time we saw rampart he was confronted by storm troopers. But not necessarily captured. The bad batch may swoop on and rescue him. Other wise I guess rampart gets taken to the base. Not sure what’s going to happen from there… I mean hemlock already knows the bad batch are out to save omega haha 🤣 what other info are you going to ask for or need. Not sure if rampart would give the bad batch up or not…. But hear me out I actually think somehow rampart is going to be roped into helping these kids find their way home. I know…. It’s crazy…. But what other narrative purpose will rampart serve. He’s on Tantis for a reason, the writers have something in store for him I just am not sure if it’s good or bad. With all the talk of the empire betraying him and crosshairs change I’d like to think that rampart will turn a new leaf too.

6) omega and the children.

Omega is def freeing that zillo beast. I’m not sure to what extent that means for her. Is she freeing it and then coming back to the vault??? Or is she taking the children with them. The problem is that those kids aren’t as trained as her and there’s even a baby … I’m not sure they would make it though the walls like omega did. Would omega let the zillo beast go and return to the others and try and escape through the door with all the chaos??? Or is she going to go around and free them herself??? It’s really up in the air at this point. And when they do escape what then? Kind of nervous that we will get a parallel scene to that one part of the episode with the bounty hunters in season 1 where she is looking into the tubes of the dead kaminoin bodies except this time it’s with a palpatine clone ya know very creepy. Really hope the final climax isn’t in the vault… but it could be I just don’t see how everyone would end up down there. It’ll be very interesting if that is what ends up happening.

7) hunter, crosshair and wrecker

I …. Do not know…. I’m not sure how they will get into Tantis base … maybe they’ll use batchers kennel again??? Not sure… as for what they do once they are inside there’s a lot that could happen. But out of all the pieces on the board these are the ones I’m the most unsure about.

8) Tantis

I would very much like to see the whole place in flames, I want it absolutely wrecked, I want to be able to see the sky and see sparks and embers. I want climatic battles as smoke and fire rages around the opponents. I don’t want clean sterile battle rooms, I need there to be absolute chaos. I need to see it be a battlefield. I can 100% see a parallel to the Clone wars ending but with hunters helmet. Where his helmet is on the steel floor, broken surround by embers and smoke, the reflection is of the bad batch running away to escape the flames of Tantis. It would be … amazing

9) the end / epilogue

A big theme of this show has been about settling down and family. I 100% believe we are going to see the bad batch get their happy ending, they will finally be able to live in peace on some random planet on the outer rim. I’m not really sure what will happen to emerie or the remaining shadow clones. I thought that maybe the shadow clones would actually be a good plot point for a clone rebellion show but it seems like the shadow clones are directly tied to hemlock and may not be able to be continued without his presence. Tho I wouldn’t put it past tarkin to swoop in and continue it himself by stealing the brainwashing machines not really sure how he would do that. If the shadow clone story continue though then I can very well see emerie being a MC in the clone rebellion show as she has a lot of information on that kind of research probably. But I can also see emerie being in charge of helping the kids find their way home. My biggest fear is that omega would go with them but I can see her saying her good byes and wishing them all luck. I don’t know if emerie will survive by the end of the show but if she does I can also see her coming to stay with the batch too… or at-least adventuring out on her own now that she is free. Anyway back to the batch 😭 I don’t think they would live by themselves… I think it’s likely that the citizens of Pabu would relocate to another planet possibly and that’s where the batch stay with. Though I don’t like the idea of them leaving the archium behind. I would LIKE for everyone to stay on pabu but the empire knows about it now… maybe the empire won’t even bother coming back since there’s pretty much no resources there and it’s unstable… (with all the earthquakes ya know ) if tech IS alive then you bet your bottom dollar we are getting a reunion KISS!!! Dee also mentioned that there is an epilogue and I’m about to cry cause this can be really anything.

It could be a few weeks or months after the escape. We see everyone settled and happy

It could be a few years down the line, maybe omega has decided to go off and explore the galaxy on her own and the batch have to let her go

It could be MANY years down the line to the point where the empire has been defeated. In this case we either get old men bad batch or … dare I say it omega talking to their graves 😭 I wouldn’t mind the old man path though cause 1) I would like to see that haha 🤣 2) it shows they all lived happy lives to the end. But I don’t mind just a few weeks or years after the escape too really leaves it open ended. I think watching the bad batch let omega go to go on her own journey is pretty on the nose to what Dee said about the shows ending reminding him of his own path raising his daughters.

Anyway!!!! That’s all I have pretty much at the moment. The only thing I have is I have some theories about what the bad batch would do in their retirement haha but that’s for another post.

I salute you all, it’s been a joy speculating with y’all 💕

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #star wars tbb #crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #hunter #tbb omega #omega #tbb echo #echo #wrecker #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tech #star wars bad batch 3 spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb speculation

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 6

Lingering Memories and Future Plans 

Link to Index Post, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Vlad is not sure what is worse, the look of hope on the boy's face knowing he is not alone, or the horror it turns into at the revelation of what Vlad implied by it being drawn out. He is not able to ponder for long as in typical timing Jack interrupts them. Dragging Danny away to meet another old acquaintance. Voice booming out another ridiculous nickname suited more for a teen than a grown adult as they disappear into the crowd. There is an almost hollow feeling to standing there after his most tightly kept secret was finally told to someone. 

It is hard the rest of the night trying to socialize for long enough for it to be acceptable to slip out early. Only getting glimpses of the Fenton family in the now crowded room. Drifting away from them to mingle and get his thoughts and emotions under control with frivolous small talk. The last hour has been a whirlwind and he has a lot to unpack in private and some very creative allegories to work out for his therapist. He is not quite ready to face any of the Fentons anymore tonight. 

It won’t leave him alone as he tries to talk about useless things like the frogeye salad at the buffet, how the gym still has the old mascot mural, and listens to people talk about their children when he can’t even remember if they were in his classes. The thoughts on his mind keep sliding back to what his old friends would do to him being part ghost. What they could do to their own son trying to understand.

What ghosts had they interacted with to colour their impressions of ghosts? Had they faced only the emotional blobs of animated ectoplasm that were the jellyfish of the ghost world? Leaving them thinking ghosts are just thoughtless creatures barely intelligent and driven by instincts. Maybe the half formed ghost animals that were next most common. He knows his first few encounters had left him with a poor insight to them. While the most populous of the ghosts he had encountered were not a true representation of what ghosts are in general. It would be like judging all the animals of a forest by just garden snails and slugs you find under one rock. 

Memories drift to his first few encounters with sapient ghosts. Ones that seem to line up more with the ominous phrasing of having to deal with the ghost from Danny. Had they faced any of the aggressive ghosts that were never human or living creatures before? The ones that don’t understand the fragility of life or danger they could inflict. Or almost worse the ones that were stuck in an endless loop of their death unable to understand what had happened and doomed to linger until they run out of energy and end. It was almost enough to make him actually drink tonight. He downed his fizzy mocktail almost wishing he could let himself have an actual cocktail, but no drinking never made things better for him. 

 Maybe he could try and introduce them to some of the more friendly and harmless ghosts he knew? Slowly get them to see the ghost animals when not aggravated and just acting the same in death as life. If he got it just right he could easily convince them to come visit as a favour for advice on their expertise in ghosts. Sighting that he is a bit out of practice after switching to business. After all his home is haunted by the Dairy King he could probably work out a deal with him to help slowly change their minds over the course of a few days. Then once they are in research and observation mode over hunting help ease them into it. 

The start of the plan begins to form from there as he watches the lights get switched from mingling with buffet food to the evening dance as the live band takes over. Miraculously the evening continues without any emergencies and he is able to leave without it looking odd. The last thing he sees before slipping out of the gym is a set of glowing green eyes and a timid wave. Vlad offers a very small wave of his own as his eyes glow red briefly. In the cool evening air he lets out a sigh. It is going to be a long night and he needs some time to unpack things with his therapist before he should make any actual plans. 

~ ~

Whoo, that was hard to get ironed out. I had to keep wrangling it back into place as I got Vlad's train of thought right. Next chapter or one soon will likely dip into Danny's or Jazz's POV. As always the Tags have my thought and stuff that would not fit into the post.

#good godfather Vlad AU #good godfather vlad #Danny phantom AU #danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #This is a very Vlad heavy installment #The reunion could only last so long #Vlad's mind is his own worse enemy here #He is used to having so much control and plan for things #Not being able to know just what the assumptions they have is hard on him #Danny meanwhile is having a little bit of dissociation over this #He might not be alone and someone knows what he is going through first hand #Also the overwhelming need to know just if Vlad can help him with his powers #I might just make the next chapter from Danny's POV #That or it might dip into Jazz

[finexbright]

instead of listening to a banger of a no skip album, you all are out here having a discourse about something that's not even valid in this case. just listen to the album and enjoy how hard it slaps

#like sorry but i'm honestly fucking tired of seeing ''his team isn't doing enough'' #honestly his team is doing great in terms of rolling out promo and everything around it #just because his style of promo isn't the kind that other artists do doesn't mean they're not doing it correctly #like. louis' music and genre appeals to a completely different crowd and he's doing promo according to that #i don't know what you expect but his ''team'' has actually done a lot #like trying to get his music picked up on tiktok and all the twitter/ig promo all of it has been great #i know louis was sabotaged before but i do truly think he has much much more control over his music and promo this time around #so when you all say ''louis' team isn't doing promo'' you really want to say that they aren't doing YOUR standard level of promo #like. he did listening parties. he did appearances and performances. he was active on social media #and then he broke his hand and couldn't do the signings and his shows and STILL they're pushing the album hard on social media #i know we all love him and love this album but there needs to be strategies in place to get it off the ground #and it has!! the album is doing great numbers #the day you all stop comparing louis' success to other artists' success is the day you'll actually be free #you're all being so fucking irrelevant by saying all of this and doing the open letter bullshit #stop acting like you know better than louis and his actual team when it comes to things #like i know we have loads of people in the fandom who actually do know things because they work in actual marketing/promotional careers #but even then. NONE of us know louis or his team or anything about their plans. stop acting like you know better #stop acting like they're not doing things correctly #and i don't want to be rude but i KNOW this is coming from people who weren't around during walls promo and are just basing this off of #other artists promo strategies #when you compare walls promo and success to this you will realise how much active effort his team is putting into it #so yeah. just shut up and enjoy the album

[roadkillip]

I think Belos really suffers from the unfortunate constraints of 1) time, and 2) having to make a manipulative villain's lies obvious because he's in a children's cartoon. I just think Hollow Mind would be very fun if Belos, instead of instantly showing Luz and the audience memories that proved how evil he was, had tried to show himself as in the right. He chose the memories they viewed, after all.

#philip wittebane #emperor belos #I'll talk about this forever (because i want to know more of his backstory) #like! he goes to so much trouble to make himself seem good! but the moment he meets Luz and Hunter in his mind #he's okay with being evil in their eyes? boring! imo #like i guess he can easily write off Hunter. Hunter is very loyal to him at the moment‚ but the Grimwalkers always betray him #he's killed how many versions of his brother? he's resigned to it now‚ at the very least. no use getting attached! #but Luz is seemingly the only other human he's seen in centuries‚ and he likes her - he asks her to work with him multiple times #so. sure. he can give her his entire plan instantly‚ as though she'd ever agree to it. or... he could lie to her too #like he does any other time #if we had had more time‚ i think it would be fun if Belos tried to get Luz in his side by showing his perspective... a twisted view of it #she first met Philip being beaten up by demons! and she believed he was an innocent victim‚ and rushed to protect him #without the context behind that (that he had gotten their companion killed and eaten his palisman) he did seem innocent #i think he could have shown her more memories of that nature. mistreatment from wild witches #things that prove that magic needs to be controlled. that what he's doing is protecting people #but Luz knows wild witches. she knows Eda isn't evil‚ and that Belos's coven system is hurting people who can't be part of covens #or who simply don't want to be. people who aren't evil at all‚ but are forced away from society for not fitting in #and Luz knows all about not fitting in!

[skrunksthatwunk]

not rascal's deadbeat owner coming around when im not home and telling my roommate she's taking him for a week (our break is 4 weeks or so, implying he's gonna be back here even though That's Her Cat Not Ours) and then just picking up the new toys i bought for him and taking them with her without even asking. hey. hi. those are mine

#like yes i want rascal to use them so he can be happy and fulfilled but also i dont fucking trust you #she didnt even ask. i wasnt even AROUND and she just yoinked them #she also took the new litter box my roomie got for him bc the old one was so caked in shit that 20 mins in a powerful sink didnt even #change it. like bedrock-hard cat shit. who fucking knows how old that was bc they never clean or empty it. fucks sake #and obv he needs a litter box and my roomie threw the old one away bc again it was Unsalvageably And Hazardously Filthy #like we could get sick he could get sick. get a grip #but like i dont wanna be feeding her replacements for her stuff she doesn't take care of over and over #just burning money trying to make rascal's life a Little better bc again our control over his situation is limited bc hes literally her cat #it's so frustrating. like i waited a full month to get him new toys bc i didn't know how long this situation was gonna last and i dont have #cats and cant have them for a while (not that this is stopping me oops) so it's not like the toys'll be used w me #like if she decided to up and drop him at a shelter like she'd planned less than a couple months ago I'd be sittjng in a pile of cat stuff #but he needs more stuff yknow. theyre not providing for him and i have the means to atm. and just when i bite the bullet and surprise him #with a bunch of new things he was SO excited about she swoops in without warning and takes him #god. my roommate told me he just froze up when his owner came in..and he looked so pissed about it #having to go back and leave us and leave all his fun new stuff to go back to the room where they cant even bother to feed him regularly #much less play with him or take care of him #it's heartbreaking. it's such a delicate situation im trying to move carefully so we don't lose him completely but it's so frustrating going #slow. ughhghhgh AND THEYRE ALWAYS LIKE man he's so much nicer to y'all. MAYBE IT'S BC WE TREAT HIM WELL. CRAZY THOUGHT I KNOW #fucking. i love that little man this sucks for him so bad. trying to get him back for a couple days while im here but no response yet #and my roommate's staying on campus over break so she's gonna show up as soon as that week's over like I'm Here For Rascal. Your Time Is Up. #rauguhhhhh sorry if these rascal vent posts are a downer guys. it's just. god dude. fucking hell #i know this is a stupid situation i have gotten myself into i know it's stupid to try and finagle someone's pet from them BUT SHES ABUSIVE #AND SUPER LIKE. INDIFFERENT?? AND APATHETIC ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT THE PPL SHE DUMPS HIM ON CARE FOR HIM WELL OR NOT. AGH #sighhhh. whatever. gotta focus on tmr's exam and then i can complain about rascal some more. #i get she prolly thinks it's a team effort but the only reason we take her stuff is bc we didn't have a cat and werent planning on it #ggggghhzgzzjzjkkzkzkkzkk. grinding my teeth

[sentofight]

She woke before the sun even rose, carefully getting out of bed to get things set up, carefully waking their daughter for her to help as well as let her know how long she and Victor will possibly be and to not have any crazy parties while they are away. Once that was out of the way she gave Elle a kiss on the head before making her way back to the bedroom to gently wake her husband. ❛ Victor... wake up honey... ❜ She spoke gently as she leaned to kiss him, knowing that was one way to wake him, as well as one way to get yanked back on the bed in an embrace which happened to happen just then. Letting out a laugh she smiled to him. ❛ Good morning... and happy one year anniversary. ❜ Plum smiled to him seeing how his expression shifted. ❛ I have a trip planned for us and I already told Elle not to throw crazy parties and to call us if she needs us for anything. Also.... I have some special surprises for you later on too... ❜

❛ So get up and get dressed Dear... I've got our bags packed already. ❜

Late Wedding Anniversary! | <3 <3 <3 @juwul

It was bold of anyone to assume that he had forgotten about their wedding anniversary. He had not forgotten his and Lara and he is grateful that Plum understands his feelings; it is something he cannot forget or let go, it is part of who he is, of who he is to her. He may be wounded by the past but he is grateful for the good things that happened. In a way ... all these little steps made him meet her. 

If Lara was the love of his life, Plum was his new brave world. He always thought about how he could repay her for not only loving him when he refused to love himself or anyone, but for being faithful to him for eight years. She did not have to, she WAS NOT obligated to wait but she did. That, and she cared for his daughter. Not many could do that, especially when she is not hers. Elle was a proof of Victor and Lara’s relationship and to see Plum cherishes her like her own, .. really, how can a man not swoon and fall for her even harder? 

He had his plans, and he knew Plum had hers so he was not in a rush to execute his. Feeling a movement beside him on bed, it was either his wife or daughter ... or Pollo wanting to be fed. It was strange ... he does not have to be alarmed when he hears noises around him. All he hears now are the sounds of his family. His lovely family. 

To the kiss, his lips drawn a smile as he pulled her close to him. “Mhm ... has it been a year already?” fingers running through her hair, he steals another kiss from her lips. “Oh? You do? Is that why you were talking so not-secretly in Elle’s room the other day?” she forgets he is a spyrite now, his senses are somewhat sharper than before. “Oh, please. She’ll do whatever she wants in the end. You know that more than I do, love.” teenagers. A soft chuckle followed up, “Oh? Special surprise?” color him intrigued. 

Pushing himself up on one of his elbows while still ruffling her hair, “I do, too ... have a surprise for you~” thumb gently caress her cheek next. “Someone seems to be in hurry. Hehe, okay, okay. I’m getting up.” tracing her lips with his thumb before leaning to kiss her again. “I hope where we are going is sound proof~” he teased before getting up.

#juwul #IN CHARACTER.| V I C T O R #SHIP. SCARRED OUR LIVES BUT WE'LL PATCH IT WITH GOLD. victor x plum.| V I C T O R #[yeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw #[I MANAGED TO CONROL THIS SINLORD FROM SINNING ON MAIN #[WHAT IS SHE PLANNING THO #[TELL US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #[HE IS THINKING OF DEGENERATE THINGS IM NOT SORRY BECAUSE I CANT CONTROL THAT #[lays on the ground...........god he loves her so much he does not understand how can he love her that much #[how can he still have feelings for others after everything #[she makes him feel stuff #[she gave him his life back ;A; #[maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa`am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love him!!!!!!!!!!!!!forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!and ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #[mwaaaah!