#I have a lot of feelings about snake man and his few appearances in the show djjdjdhh

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [3]

・❥ You finally meet Alastor’s friends, only to then find your tea party rudely interrupted by an angry mob.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: no use of y/n.

~ 7.9k words

warnings: adult themes

“Um…hi?”

The group of demons scooted a few steps closer to you, anxious to get a better look at the unfamiliar face in front of them. Their expressions were mixed, suspicion, excitement, confusion. Their eyes scanned up and down your figure, and you suddenly felt awfully self-conscious.

You leaned back slightly from the onlookers, as much as Alastor’s hold on you would allow. His arm was snaked around your elbow, locking you in place, which was the only comfort in this very strange little world.

The Hazbin Hotel, just like that Imp and Alastor had described to you earlier in the day. The question is, how did you get here, exactly?

These demons didn’t seem unfriendly, or cruel. They just seemed shocked to see you here, most likely the same feelings you’re experiencing right now.

Did Alastor do that? He must have, but how? Through the ring?

And, what about your money, purse, wallet, and keys? Did that asshole run off with them after you vanished? You held back the urge to sigh, what a day.

“Alastor, mind explaining who this is?” The gray, shorter lady in front asked, arms crossed as she regarded you cautiously with a single eye.

Alastor only grinned mischievously, a small chuckle escaping his lips, before turning his gaze towards you. He tugged you forward gently, and your back straightened as you smiled widely.

“Well, isn’t it obvious with that charming smile? She’s my wife!”

Silence. Utter silence, so silent in fact, you swore you could hear gunshots ringing from a few blocks away.

Your eyebrows shot up, heat creeping on your cheeks as you processed his words. You side-eyed him, a question behind your glance.

Is he serious?

The platinum-blonde-haired woman's mouth dropped open, her eyes glimmering. That gray lady only reeled back slightly, eyeing both you and Alastor with even more suspicion.

“Whaaaaaa..?” The pink spider demon quirked an eyebrow, his gaze darting to a much shorter black-and-white feline man, who shot him a confused expression right back. The tiny Cyclops lady only jumped in place giddily, her hands to her mouth in glee.

It wasn’t until you felt a rumbling beside you, did you turn to find Alastor laughing, his shoulders shaking as he put a hand to his mouth.

The even more shocked faces in the crowd faltered, as they watched Alastor collect himself.

“Ah, to see your faces like this is quite amusing.” Alastor chuckled, taking a claw and lifting it to his eye to wipe a false tear.

“Real funny.” The winged cat grumbled, rolling his eyes. The woman in the red suit seemed to deflate, a frown on her lips. She looked like she was genuinely sad by the news. A similar pang hit your heart, before shaking it off. Right, he wasn’t your husband. It was just an act. You knew this, so why did you feel this way?

You heard Alastor clear his throat, before gesturing to you once more. “This darling belle before you is here because.. she is interested in redemption through the hotel!”

Huh? When in the world did that thought ever cross your mind? Your head snapped to him, and you caught the mischievous glint in his eye as the platinum-blonde lady in front of you beamed, the sparkle in her eyes almost blinding you as she bounced on her toes.

“Really?!” She squealed, before crossing the distance between the two of you. She leaned down slightly, meeting your gaze. “Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! Although, I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it already."

Oh, this must be that daughter of the imp. The one that appeared before you before the store you worked at had opened, the one that told you his daughter owned the Hazbin Hotel. She didn’t look like an imp, though. You shook that thought off for a moment as she conversed with you.

“Not really,” you confessed, “I only know about you through Alastor.”

“Well, I’d be pleased to show you around and give you all the information you need to make a decision.” Charlie reached out her hand, a welcoming gesture. You hesitated before your eyes flicked up to Alastor, a thousand questions in your gaze.

But, what about your things? Why were you suddenly thrust into this situation? When were you going to get an explanation of how exactly you got here?

‘Go along with it, we’ll talk later.’ Alastor’s eyes seemed to speak, behind that charming grin. Just like it did the first time you met him. At least, you hoped that was what he was saying. You were going to talk to him no matter what, anyway.

You slipped your arm from his hold and grasped Charlie’s hand, and she tugged you beside her as she walked towards the group of demons. You felt a bit nervous as you approached them, seeing as their eyes had been on you since the moment you landed in their lobby.

“These two are our residents at the hotel! This is Sir. Pentious.” Charlie gestured to the tall snake demon, his hood covered his face slightly as he smiled bashfully.

“It’sssss a pleassure to meet you, my dear!” He said, clasping his hands together, and you smiled warmly in return. Sir. Pentious seemed like a respectful, modest demon. A rare gem. He reminded you of Alastor but with a flare of innocence to him. Or, at least, less murderous.

Charlie turned slightly towards that taller, fuzzy spider dressed rather scantily. “And, this is Angel Dust. He was our first guest when we originally opened!”

“How ya’ doin’, toots?” He winked at you, that golden tooth catching your eye as it shimmered in the warm lighting. He seemed to exude an air of confidence and charm that attracted attention effortlessly. At least, he was the first person to catch your eye when you materialized in front of them. It might just have been the bright pink fuzz, though.

“This is Husk… Niffty… Vaggie…” Charlie continued, introducing you to the rest of the staff. You stood beside her, patiently waiting for it to be over so you could speak to Alastor. Who was standing a ways behind you, no doubt tracing your figure as you slowly met each member. Finally, when you had finished greetings, Charlie turned to you. “I think it’s time we do a little tour of the hotel, get you familiar with everything!”

Your smile faltered for a moment. Right, you weren’t totally done yet. As much as you wanted to learn more about where you just dropped into, you had a very, very long day. Your plush, weighted covers that were sitting patiently back at home were calling to you. Still, Charlie turned towards the opposite side of the room, before glancing behind and beckoning you to follow. You obliged, keeping pace with her as she began to speak.

She guided you through multiple different locations, the kitchen, the lounge, and the bar. Soon, you were walking down a long hallway, rows of doors facing both sides of you. Were all these rooms vacant? Seemed like the hotel wasn’t very popular, though you weren’t surprised.

It wasn't until you entered a large sub-room, with a very lavish mahogany-wood staircase, that you stopped in your tracks and looked at the large frame hanging above you. Splashes of color filled your vision as you gazed at a large painting on the opposite side of the stairs. It depicted a large glistening, blue lake nestled in a sunny clearing around rows and rows of lush trees. At the edges of the lapping waves, fawns danced with small winged children in fields of sunlit flowers. Some held their hands to their mouths, giggling in joy as they frolicked carefree in the afternoon breeze.

You gawked at the painting for a few more moments, your eyes tracing the perfect lines and forms of each figure. The wings of the angels looked like actual feathers, carefully crafted through paint tools by a skilled hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Charlie swooned beside you, gazing up at the portrait. You nodded slowly in response, it was a very beautiful painting. Is that what Heaven looked like? If that was the case, you didn't mind giving redemption a try anymore.

“Who made this?”

“One of our staff here, they are our newest addition to the crew! I’d introduce the two of you, but they’re attending an art show tonight. An auction, I think. I’m sure you two would get along great, though!”

Yes, maybe you’d like that. Charlie continued on her path, as you rounded a corner into another hallway, the lights of the lobby off in the distance. You exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. You could finally speak to Alastor about the questions reeling in your head.

When you entered the lobby, the rest of the crew had dispersed. Angel Dust was lounging at the bar, offering Vaggie a drink who declined it curtly. Husker was growling something to Niffty, who was attempting to stab a bug atop the bar counter.

Alastor hadn’t followed you on that tour, instead, you found him leaning comfortably against the side of a wall. He stood there, a microfiber cloth in one hand and his red-tinted monocle in the other. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth across the small surface, wiping it clean of any imperfections.

It wasn’t until his gaze lifted and met yours, that the cloth vanished from his hand, and he adjusted the monocle back on his face. He straightened, resting slightly against his cane as the two of you approached him.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie pivoted to face you, a large smile on her lips. She looked so hopeful, and you did not want to say anything to hurt her feelings. You glanced at Alastor, who stood a little ways behind Charlie. His eyes were unreadable, that small smile of no help. Great, you were on your own with this one.

“Well, I think the hotel is very pretty.” You responded slowly, choosing your words carefully as you spoke.

“What about staying here?” Charlie leaned in slightly closer, bouncing on her toes as she beamed at you.

“Um, about that, It’s a nice offer and all but…” Charlie’s face dropped, her eyes glistening as she visibly deflated before your eyes. You grimaced, before taking a step closer, apologetically waving your hands. “But, I’m just pretty exhausted right now, so I think a good night's sleep will allow me to give you a better answer.”

Charlie perked at that. Even if it wasn't a ‘yes’ it was still better than your full rejection. She nodded, “That works with me!”

“Wonderful!” A voice buzzed behind Charlie before Alastor appeared next to her. He turned to the apple-cheeked woman, before widening his grin. “It seems like our new friend is rather tired, so I will do the honors and show them to their room.”

Wait, room? As in, here at the hotel? That was not your original plan, but, if it meant you were finally able to speak with the red demon, so be it.

Charlie agreed, before waving farewell to you and joining Vaggie on the couch. You turned to face Alastor, and he offered you his arm. You felt like ignoring it for a moment, and just walking beside him. Some kind of payback for suddenly dumping you here and into the arms of strangers.

After a moment, you sighed in defeat and laced your arm with his. He turned you to a second hallway and began to lead you down the winding corridor. After you were out of earshot, Alastor cleared his throat beside you, before turning his head slightly to face you.

“I’m surprised to see you here so soon, my dear. I knew you’d appear eventually, with how easily trouble seems to find you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear how I even got here in the first place.” You replied sternly, prodding him for an explanation.

“Why, the ring of course!” He spoke, gesturing to your bare finger. “I embedded it with magic that would take you to safety if you were ever to be manhandled again while I am not present.”

You were silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Alastor put some kind of spell on the ring to protect you? Had that been there since he originally placed it on your finger? Now you were beginning to understand the strange words he said back in the tailoring room when he mentioned the ring being a charm for good luck. Heat began to creep on your cheeks, as you realized how offly sweet that was of him.

“Well, then I suppose I must thank you. If it weren’t for you, I may have gotten more than just my money and bag taken.”

“Ah, so that is what it was. Well, you don’t need to worry any longer, my dear. This hotel is safe from any kind of danger.” He patted your hand assuringly as you walked, “Which is why I only offered the idea back there, as I believe it benefits you more than anyone here.”

Alastor did all this because he cared about your well-being? The ring, the teleportation, living here, the killing. All for you. Even, your “relationship” with him was just that. Your mind went back to when he had laughed in the lobby, like the thought of being with you was that big of a joke to tell all his friends. He could have just not said anything! And yet, he acted so gentle and kind to you, even asking for your permission to kill your boss, just for asking you on a date!

Sure, you’ve only met Alastor like, what, twice? So, you weren’t expecting such a serious step in a relationship to be taken so fast, nor anything similar. But, there was no way Alastor had been doing all this out of the kindness of his heart, he’s the Radio Demon.

There had to be a real reason. He hasn’t even communicated his feelings on the matter, does he expect you to read every thought behind his gaze? You frowned, irritation setting on your face.

“I’m surprised you did all this,” you start, taking a slight step away from Alastor as you slip your arm out of his hold, continuing to keep pace with his footsteps, “seeing as you think what I have experienced this past week is so funny.”

Alastor halted in his tracks, and you were jerked slightly as you were pulled back from the hold on his arm. He turned his head to you, his ears flattened slightly as he searched your gaze. He tapped his claws against his cane, fast and erratic as he observed you.

“Are you referring to what I said when I introduced you?” He questioned slowly, That smile creeping a little higher as he tried to keep up the charm. You crossed your arms, attempting a stern stance as you took another step back.

“Yes, I didn’t exactly expect to be the punchline to your dismissive jokes.”

“My intentions were not to make light of recent events, I can assure you,” Alastor cleared his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips, “I simply wanted to gauge their reaction to such a statement, as I’ve spoken before, one must always be prepared for every situation. And, you must stop referring to them as my ‘friends’, I hardly know them.”

You didn’t have time to process his strange words before Alastor reached an arm out towards you, beckoning for you to take his hand. You only hesitated a second before crumbling, your fingers brushing softly against Alastor’s palm as he lifted your hand towards him. With one digit, he traced up your ring finger, before settling just above your knuckle. You hitched your breath, watching as a string of green light wrapped around your finger. It thickened, before a light green cloud of smoke poured from the light. Leaning down, Alastor lightly blew against your finger, and the smoke dispersed. Your eyes widened when that familiar, golden band began to glint against the hallway lights.

“There, now do you see? My words have been nothing but truthful, my doe.”

His fingers stayed on your hand a little longer, brushing softly against your knuckles, before he withdrew. You pulled your hand closer, twisting your finger until you could see it, that little rose-gold A etched onto the ring’s surface. A warm smile crept onto your lips as you inspected it. You kind of missed the feeling of it snuggled against your skin.

“Well, when you put it like that...” you trailed off, and Alastor grinned widely, accepting your response with a grin as he sidled close to you, motioning to the door in front of him. You turned, your eyes landing on the small 7 etched in gold against the wood. Was this your room?

“Am I staying here?” You questioned, turning to Alastor.

“Preferably, and it is a short distance from my room. Should you ever acquire my assistance, of course.”

“Where is your room?”

Alastor turned, one claw pointed directly across the little hallway towards a replica of your door. Okay.. his room was literally ten feet from you, he wasn’t playing when he said it was a “short” distance. Were you complaining, though?

Suddenly, a yawn overcame you, and your hand lifted to shield your gaping mouth as you sighed softly. God, you were awfully exhausted, mentally and physically. Alastor watched you rub your eyes, before he softened, that smile fading just a tad as his eyes glanced at the clock hung on the wall near your door.

“It seems like it has gotten late, I apologize for keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He bowed his head respectfully to you, withdrawing closer into the shadows. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer of staying at the hotel, better than the neighborhoods crawling with thugs back in the city.”

You nodded, smiling at him as your fingers snaked around the door handle. “I will think about it, don’t worry. I did find some interest in Charlie’s words when we went on that tour.”

“Wonderful. I bid you a good night then, my doe.”

You twisted the handle, backing slowly into the shaded room. You sent a small wave, smiling at him as you shut the door. Your surroundings were drenched in darkness, and you placed your forehead against the cool, wooden frame. You sighed, letting your muscles come loose finally in the quiet of your private domain.

Wow, what a day.

You awoke the next morning, dark circles under your eyes as you groaned sleepily from the rays of morning light hitting your face. The plush white covers slid around you, a large pillow in your hold as you pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled your face deeper into it, intent on falling back into blissful dreams.

Except, nothing came. Your brain just kept prodding you to wake, to rise from the warmth of your makeshift nest and greet the day.

‘To greet Alastor!’ It whispered excitedly, and you stirred again.

What time was it? Waking in a room different from yours always throws off your sleep schedule. Turning your head slightly, you eyed the digital clock on the bedside table. It was seven in the morning, you had slept for almost ten hours. Impressive.

Slowly, you rose from the bed, your arms lifting above your head as you took a big stretch. Yawning, you pivoted, your feet landing on the cold, unfamiliar wood floor.

You sat there for a moment, your eyelids lifting slowly as you let yourself wake naturally.

What was your plan today? It seemed like Alastor insisted on you staying at the hotel, as well as Charlie. But, you had a place of your own. One that you rented, but with all your stuff nonetheless.

You still had a job, but seeing as the Hazbin Hotel provided everything of necessity for free, it wouldn’t hurt to lessen your load and start working part-time. Plus, less Alan. Yay!

Maybe, you’d go home later, collect what you needed and come back. You could even see if Alastor would do his little teleportation trick, it wasn’t so bad being pulled around like that if it cut your travel time to only a few seconds.

It seemed like this was your new room too, which wasn’t so bad. There was a bathroom, a balcony, a dining table, and basic furniture. And, Alastor was right across the hall! You were surprised when he had placed you so close to his own living quarters.

Wasn’t your relationship just a farce, like he had joked in the lobby yesterday night? Maybe, he felt you’d feel more comfortable being near someone familiar.

Maybe, he felt more comfortable having you close to him.

These thoughts spun through your head as you got ready for the day. Your face was soaked with water as you reached for a hand towel on the rack next to the bathroom sink, the soft cotton refreshing as you sank your face into it.

Weirdly, there was a small stack of fresh clothes on top of your dresser. Also weirdly, in your size. Who could have put them there? You examined them anyway, finding them not too far off from your normal style before slipping into the garments.

Opening the curtains, you pushed open the balcony doors. That cool breeze brushed against your ears as you inhaled a deep breath. A smile playing on your lips as you let the warmth of a new day hit your cheeks.

It was nice here, actually. The hotel was far enough away from the streets that the smell of garbage and booze didn’t hit your nose as you inhaled the breeze again. You couldn’t hear the loud profanities or honking cars from all the way up here.

It was amazing. Maybe, staying here was going to be pretty good.

You left the fresh air draft into your room, as you walked to the door. Your fingers caressed the handle for only a moment as you hesitated, before you shook yourself and took a deep breath. The door slowly creaked open, squeaking as it inched backward. Your head slowly peaked out of the door, your eyes scanning down the hall, before eventually landing in front of you.

Alastor’s door. The wood was dark, walnut-brown with golden borders that glinted underneath the wall sconces. There was nothing unusual about it, but it was it being his door that made it stand out against all the identical rooms in this hotel.

Should you knock? Ask him for directions back to the lobby? No, that was going to be weird. You didn’t want him to think you were using him or anything. No matter how much of a gentleman he acted.

Instead, you simply slipped through the threshold and quietly shut the door behind you.

Okay… so you definitely remember your room being on the right side of the hall when you came here last night. Which meant the lobby was somewhere left. Nice, at least we’re getting somewhere.

Turning, you begin your trek down the long hallway. Your eyes would occasionally glance at paintings, or your reflection on wall-length mirrors, as you walked. It wasn’t long before you arrived at a larger sub room, with a few pieces of furniture like benches and side tables. There was a TV in one corner, with stacks of newspapers on a coffee table in front of it.

It seemed to be like a small lounge, and you noted that in your head for later. The problem was, the room then split into three separate hallways. Your shoulders dropped, and your lips curved downward at the sight. Why was this place hellbent on meddling with your biggest weakness?

Crossing the room to one corridor, you peeked around the corner. There was nothing familiar you could pick out from it, no distant noises that gave you an inking of a guess. You gulped, how exactly were you supposed to get back to civilization now?

“There you are, my dear!”

You turned, your back hitting the wall as you watched the red demon stroll towards you. He stopped a few steps away, a pleased look on his face at the sight of you.

“Alastor! I was hoping to catch a familiar face out here.”

“Well, aren’t you glad that face was me?” He beamed, extending his arm out for you to take. Without hesitation, you slid your arm into his hold, locking at the elbows.

“Of course! You are the only familiar face here, honestly. I might have forgotten your friends' names during the night.” You smiled apologetically.

“Don’t worry, they are quite colorful characters, these people. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“They seem to be, although I'm not sure whether they like me yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Alastor smiled, patting your hand assuring. “you exude a warmth and charm that it is impossible not to be drawn to.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you averted your gaze to the ground.

“Take those silly fellows that can’t seem to stop bothering you, always courting for your affection, my word, just practically begging for your attention!”

Well, that was a more positive light on what you’ve been through this past week.

“If those are the kind of people that want my attention. Then, maybe I don’t want any of it at all.”

Alastor was silent for a moment as the two of you continued walking, you felt his arm in your hold tense slightly. Was he thinking about something?

“Come now, my dear. There are plenty of individuals who would cherish every moment spent in your company, without resorting to such antics.”

You lifted your head and met his gaze, and he only continued to smile at you. His eyes were genuine, as he looked at you. One might even consider them soft. Is that how Alastor felt when the two of you spent time together?

You hadn’t spoken very much to him, at least on personal matters. But, with how the others in the hotel regarded him, it seemed he didn’t do that ever.

Has he ever told them about his mother or her recipes? Trusted them to fix his clothes, to care for him? Alastor seemed to put distance—figuratively and literally—between him and others.

But, with you? Well, calling a strange woman your wife the first time you laid eyes on her is rather bold and personal for such a man.

You felt flustered at the thought that you were the one Alastor chose for such things. You averted your gaze again, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“It’s nothing at all. Why don’t you join me for some coffee? There is a patio right at the front of the hotel, it’s my favorite place to spend my mornings.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Well, you weren’t going to argue with that.

“Of course, I'd love to! You’ll just have to lead the way.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you walked in silence, as you passed through another long hallway. You could hear faint voices in the distance, growing louder at each step.

Was everyone else in the lobby? Would you have to greet them all again?

You saw the large threshold of the front room, and saw the glimpse of the large stained-glass front doors peeking from the corner. Right as you were about to walk through, Alastor nudged you to the side of the hall, and you turned to find a small set of stairs leading up a level.

You tried to memorize the path in your mind, for next time. The voices from the lobby grew more audible now, and you could hear what sounded like Charlie and Sir. Pentious speaking. A conversation about his path to redemption.

Isn’t that what they expected you to do now? Beg to Heaven to let you through the pearly gates because you repented for your sins? You doubted whether that was even possible.

As you neared the staircase, you turned your head to the lobby before looking back to Alastor. Were they just going to ignore the rest of the residents? You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are we not going to say hello to your friends?”

“Why bother? They have their routines, we have ours.”

You didn’t say anything to that, instead, just let him glide the two of you up the stairs towards a pair of glass doors. You could see the light-red hues of morning peeking from the drawn shades.

Carefully, Alastor twisted the handle and pulled open the doors, that cool breeze hitting your face as soon as you stepped through the doorway.

“Well, here we are.” He spoke, slowly unlacing his arm from yours.

In front of you, was a small tea table and a single chair staring out at the city. A few flowers decorated along the short, metal railing in porcelain pots. Their colorful blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, as you stepped up to the table.

“Do forgive me, my dear. I seem to have forgotten a seat, I'm not used to company up here.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, a second, identical chair materialized across the table. A small radio emerged from a small pool of green fog as it dispersed on a post at one edge of the railing. It played a soft, jazzy melody as you crossed the small balcony, before positioning yourself in front of the seat to sit.

“Please, allow me.” Alastor appeared beside you, one hand on the chair’s back as he pulled it out from the table.

“Why, aren’t you just a gentleman?” You teased, before lowering yourself onto the small cushion velcroed to the chair’s seat. You felt Alastor push you closer to the table, before he lowered himself slightly to meet your gaze.

“Now, what would you like to drink? Tea, coffee, orange juice? Anything you desire, my dear.” He spoke, smiling as his nails clicked rhythmically against the table.

You told him, and with another snap of his fingers, two pieces of glassware settled upon the table. A pitcher materialized in his hand, before Alastor lowered it to your cup and began pouring the contents.

It swirled around your glass, and you watched it settle as he poured it to the brim. Your eyes trailed his hands as the pitcher melded into a coffee pot, and you watched the dark, steaming liquid land into his glass.

He didn’t add any cream or sugar, and you watched in surprise as he settled into his seat without any modifications to his drink.

“You drink your coffee black?” You asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked as you tilted your head at him.

“Mm, yes. I find that it helps sharpen the senses, and heightens one’s awareness. In a place like this, one must always have control of their surroundings. Don’t you think so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink as you listened. He was right, in a way, about needing to be prepared for anything in Hell. But, why continue to punish yourself by taking away the few good things you could have in such a depressing realm? Maybe, Alastor didn’t think there was any good in Hell.

Watching Alastor lift the coffee to his lips, you noticed the way his entire face softened as the bitter flavor hit his tongue. His smile was so very faint now, almost a firm line, but it seemed.. peaceful. His eyes were slightly lidded, in an expression of contentedness as the breeze tickled at the fur on his ears. The music was peaceful white noise as you sat there, hand underneath your chin, gazing at Alastor as he looked out at the city, a small smile on his lips. Oh, how you so enjoyed his lipped smiles.

It was like that for a few more quiet moments, as the sky continued to lighten until Alastor turned his eyes to you. You squirmed underneath his gaze, realizing you were caught mid-ogle by him. He regarded you curiously for a few moments.

“Find anything of interest in your observation?” Alastor asked slyly, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Your ears are very fluffy” You blurted, before slapping a hand to your mouth. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at your brazen response.

“Pardon?” He asked after a moment, the static in his tone thicker, hoarser, as the words left his lips. As if he couldn’t comprehend that was what you had landed on. Did no one ever compliment his ears? Correction, did no one ever genuinely compliment him other than to save their skin or to praise his power?

“Your ears, when the wind blows on them they puff out a little from the cold,” you practically whispered through your fingers, “I imagine if someone were to squeeze them, they'd feel so soft too, like squishing a plush teddy bear.”

You buried your face farther into your hands as those words left your lips, heat creeping onto your cheeks. Why were you thinking about touching his head? What happened to not taking too bold of steps? You did not need to overindulge him on what you thought of his ears. Jesus, you were embarrassing.

Peeking through your fingers, you saw Alastor averting his gaze, taking a sudden interest in some flowers near his chair. His ears were flattened slightly, as he adjusted the collar of his suit feverishly. His smile wavered slightly, flickering to a nervous expression. Was Alastor flustered by your comment?

“What an–ahem–unique perspective. My, you are such a charm, my dear, you truly have a way with words. Thank you for the compliment.”

There was silence again, as the tune from the radio seemed to grow slightly louder, drowning out your beating heart. You grabbed your drink, throwing your head back and downing the rest of it in one gulp. If only it was alcohol instead, so you could at least have an excuse for your comments. It was Alastor who spoke up again next, and you were relieved to be changing the topic.

“Tell me, now that you’ve gotten a little more familiar with it, what do you think of the hotel?”

“I think it’s… cute,” you answered softly, your finger circling the lip of your glass as you thought of more to say, “Charlie has a very large dream, and she seems to be the best one suited for the job with the influence she has. But, her residents…? Well, I wonder whether they have it in them to change, especially that��ah, what was his name–guy, Angel Dust? I could see Sir. Pentious being redeemed though. I’m sure he’d do good in Heaven.”

A small chuckle reverberated from Alastor’s throat as he closed his eyes, an amusing smile on his lips. You closed your mouth quickly, leaning back slightly. What was so funny about what you said?

“What?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow again as you crossed your arms.

Alastor cleared his throat, before meeting your eyes again. “Nothing, I just find the concept of a second chance awfully.. silly, you could say.”

“You don’t believe in sinners being able to go to Heaven?”

“Goodness, not at all.”

“But.. you’re helping run the hotel trying to do just that?”

“Well, yes, but it is just simple charity work. I had heard about this place on that noisy little picture box months ago, and how much the demons on the street laughed at it.” Alastor took another large sip of his coffee, adjusting his monocle slightly as he set the cup back down. “That is the problem, my dear. Every sinner in this city has had their chance at going to Heaven, back on earth. They lost it, and now, they’ll only laugh at the concept of such a thing.”

“What was life like for you?”

“Life?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, his claws halting mid-tap against the table's surface. His ears swiveled slightly to face you, his gaze curious.

You grimaced, you hadn’t meant to ask that out loud. Should you brush it off? Just because he told you about his mother and his radio show, doesn’t mean he was going to fill you in on his entire past. But, you were so curious! What kind of man did your false husband wake up to be every morning? What did he experience that gave him such pessimistic, ultra-realistic views?

“On Earth,” you clarified, straightening in your seat as you fidgeted with the glass in front of you, “What was it like?”

“Ah, you want to know more about the greatest era in mankind’s history? I’d love to indulge you on such a topic! You know, the first radio station was started in the 1920’s, and of course that only was the beginning of such a wonderful medium. I believe it was called KDKA, I remember exactly where I was standing when the first broadcast hit the radio, I believe it was about th–”

“No, I mean, what did you do on Earth, Alastor?” You interrupted, prodding him for a real answer. You weren’t looking for a history lesson, you wanted to know more about him.

“Me?” He sputtered, caught off guard by your question once more.

“What was your favorite thing to do when you were a child?”

Alastor looked like he wasn’t going to respond, for a moment. His eyes were squinting at you, reading your expression. Did he think you had some kind of ulterior motive? That you were going to take any information and sell it to the highest bidder against him? Your expression was genuine, however, and he only sighed. His brows furrowed in thought, as he recalled distant memories.

“Sometimes, my mother would send me to town for baking ingredients, and every time I'd choose the longest route, which was Frenchmen Street. New Orleans is famous for many things, art, food, but most importantly, music.”

“Music?”

“Indeed! Music is the heartbeat of New Orleans,” Alastor continued, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he delved into memories of his childhood. "I remember those days vividly, wandering that long, vibrant street, soaking in the melodies that filled the air. Jazz, blues, the soulful rhythms that seemed to draw in huge crowds like moths to a flame."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "And then there were the nights when the city truly came alive. My mother would take me to smoky jazz clubs, where the air hummed with energy and every note seemed to carry a story. I was captivated by the raw emotion of the musicians, their ability to weave tales with nothing but their instruments and their voices."

A flicker of nostalgia danced in his eyes as he recalled the details, those hidden, buried emotions rising out of him slowly. “I realized then how powerful such mediums truly were, they had the magical ability to perpetuate emotions, feed the crowds, and fuel the thoughts. Music is just another form of art, of course. I’m sure you saw our dear artist’s paintings, and I’m sure they stirred something in you, hm?”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward in your seat, enraptured in his words as they spilled from his tongue. Gosh, his voice was just so nice to listen to. That radio overlay that dripped from his tone was like white noise that tickled your brain with pleasure. You thought his laughs were cute, the way they crackled softly with static.

“I’m sure you would have been happy standing there for hours just to marvel at its beauty. Music can do the same, and when you’re a famous radio host like me,” Alastor gestured to himself, a prideful smirk on his lips, “You need that form of hypnosis to get all the listeners to tune in to the next broadcast, and to keep their interest. Without that power, I wouldn’t be as well known as I am now.”

You were sure he would still be well known for more than his radio broadcasts, with the reputation Alastor had with his… violent tendencies.

“There,” Alastor sighed, like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, “are you pleased with my response, my dear?”

“I think I am sated for now.” You responded with a smile, batting your eyelashes as you leaned back into your chair.

“Good, now, I believe it is my turn to ask you a question.” Alastor straightened, his claw clicking softly against the table in sync with the music buzzing in the background. You raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly in anticipation as he leaned slightly across the table.

“Have you decided on whether you are going to reside at the hotel and try redemption?”

You tensed, smiling wider as your mind raced. Sweat beaded on your eyebrow as Alastor looked at you expectantly. What was your decision? Sure, you’d get free room and board, it was no doubt safer than your home, and maybe, just maybe, redemption could actually work. But, was it enough to flip your whole life upset down, over what, a demon man who helped you out a couple of times?

“Alastor, I–”

Your voice was drowned out by a powerful explosion that rocked the patio, the radio fell from the railing and disappeared from sight, as the music faded with it. Your ears rang from the small blast, which had barely missed the wall of the hotel. Alastor’s head snapped to the source of violence, eyes narrowing as the figures of burly demons grew more visible as they approached. There were about four of them, who each held pistols, and a few rolled a grenade between their fingers.

“Angel Dust!! Come out here, you filthy skank!” One snarled from the group, fist raised towards the hotel.

“Ah shit!” You could hear the faint voice of the spider demon coming from the lobby, it sounded frantic as a head poked out from the large entrance doors.

“What did you do?!” You heard Vaggie growl, as another explosion rocked the side of the hotel.

“I sold em’ fake drugs! They thought they were buying coke, but I only gave em’ baking powder!”

“Angel, you idiot!” Vaggie snarled in response.

You shrunk back in your chair, your heart beating erratically and you watched a few more men gather on the hill. What was going to happen? Why did this always happen to you?

Alastor sighed exasperatedly, rising from his seat as he straightened his bowtie. He turned towards you, walking to your place across the table. Your hands were still resting on its surface when Alastor reached down and gently grasped them, before lifting them to your face. He laid your palms against your eyelids, adjusting your fingers to where only darkness greeted your vision.

“Just keep still just like this for now, my dear. I will be back in only a moment!” He replied chipperly, before you felt footsteps fade away from earshot. The silence didn't last very long, before your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of screaming and strangled gasps. You felt the ground rumbling slightly under your feet, and you only shrunk deeper into your chair.

The screaming wasn't anyone familiar though, instead, it sounded like it was those drug dealers

“Yeah! Kick their ass, Alastor!” Angel Dust cheered from your left, and you perked.

Your fingers splayed slightly, as you picked between the gaps. Your vision was greeted with large, dark green tentacles that snaked in the air. They weaved around small figures who were scrambling across the clearing in a desperate attempt to survive. Some wrapped around the flailing demons, before pitching them far in the distance. Their screams faded as they disappeared from view.

You couldn’t see Alastor, but you assumed he was out of harm's way since the tentacles were doing a good job corralling the thugs. There were a few stragglers that managed to dodge his attacks, though. That became very obvious when a clawed hand reached over the railing, and you screamed as a dark gray, shark-faced man rose into sight.

He growled at you, as he landed with a thump on the old, cracked tile. A large knife was pulled from a sheath around his waist, and he twisted it between his fingers as he stalked up to you. You pressed yourself as deep into your chair as possible, your body frozen in terror.

“₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ĐØ ɎØɄ ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ɎØɄⱤɆ ₲Øł₦₲?” You heard a snarl of static from the ground, before a tentacle wrapped roughly around the shark demon’s body. His face morphed into a look of terror, right before he was flung away from the patio and beat into the ground by the large mass.

The gang of thugs were almost finished, as you finally exhaled a shaky breath. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, and your eyes darted around the area for any danger.

You shot up from the chair, scrambling to the doorway for safety. You stumbled off balance as the ground rumbled underneath your feet once more, your knees hitting the tile.

Growling in pain, you twisted your head to get a look at what had happened. Your eyes darted across them before you saw the small, cylindrical object fly towards you and land against the railing of the patio.

It erupted into a small ball of flame, before it burst into a large cloud of dark gray smoke, shaking the floor beneath you more violently as shrapnel flew. You tried to scramble away, as the large table was thrown to its side, and began to skid across the tiles towards you.

Your body couldn’t react fast enough to dodge the incoming object, instead, all you could do was throw your arms up and curl closer to yourself, screaming. Praying for mercy from the oncoming blow.

Except… nothing happened. The chaos still ensued around you, and the screams of terror and maniacal laughter still rang in your ears. You felt no pain, yet could still feel the breeze whipping against your arms as you held them up defensively. What just happened? You’re not like, double-dead, are you?

Slowly, you lowered your arms, planting them beneath you to help lift yourself from the ground. As you rose to your feet, your eyelids fluttered open.

The table was split in half, lying burnt on both sides of the patio. A slight trail of smoke wafted from their remains, and your eyes traveled across the tiled floor to what had caused the destruction.

Your eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure, their white overcoat swaying slightly in the wind as they regarded you. That platinum-blonde hair glinted in the morning light beneath the rim of his hat, and your eyes rested on those awfully familiar red cheek spots that stuck out from his pale face.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes widening, as the name of this strange man dawned on you. The image of the fallen angel, the most powerful man in the realm, stood before you.

Lucifer, the King of Hell, was leaning against the partially-destroyed railing. His arms crossed as he regarded your slightly battered form curiously.

“Did I miss anything?” The apple-cheeked man teased, sending you a charming grin. His demeanor was calm, and playful, despite the chaotic scene around him.

Would it be taken as disrespectful if you fainted right about now?

man i rlly dug myself into a hole with these titles huh x) i’ll think of something guys don’t worry. but can i just say how much i love throwing the reader into all this chaos, fun fun!

lmk what you think :)

taglist 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @laundrybear @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie

(it only lets me mention 50 of you?! im so sorry to the rest of y’all 😭😭 i’ll reblog it with more tags sksksjjsjsj)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

[chaotic-on-main]

Shoveling Snow with Levi

moodboard and drabble oneshot for @humanitys-strongest-bamf who requested shoveling snow and hot tea snuggles with Levi <3

content: fluff, modern au, established relationship, marriage, winter

word count: ~1.3k

Levi is the kind of man who will do all of the hard chores, even though you're very much capable of doing so. Shoveling snow is one of those. To be honest, you didn't mind because shoveling snow was the worst part of winter next to having to drive in it. But it means time away from your newly wedded husband, and for that you were sad about it.

On this particular day, Levi awoke to a few feet of new accumulation staring right back at him from the window. The weather forecast predicted no such thing so he grumbles something under his breath, unfortunately waking you up for the day. He feels you stirring and rolls over to see your face half covered from the plush pillow, a sleepy eye peeking over the navy blue cloth.

“Sorry, Love. I didn't mean to wake you.” Levi says softly as he inches closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist just to pull you into him. His bare chest is warm from being under the sheets all night. The gentle beating of his heart threatens to lull you to sleep again, but you remember the grumbling that woke you up in the first place.

“What's wrong?” You ask, muffled from being pressed up against his chest.

“It snowed a lot last night, so I need to shovel. Again.” You can already feel the scowl that pulls on Levi's soft lips.

“No. We're staying inside all day. You said.” You whine back, snaking your own arms around him to keep him close. You wouldn't let him go, not ever.

“That was before I knew the forecaster was a liar.” Levi grumbles yet again.

“The weather is unpredictable, you know that.”

“Tch. If I don't take care of it, then it will just melt and make it worse. Do you want to fall on your ass like last year?”

“That's not fair, I was distracted!”

“A cat running down the sidewalk is not a valid excuse when you could have been paying attention to where you were going.” Levi chuckles and rests his chin on the top of your head before kissing it softly.

“Mean. And to be fair, he had a bow in his mouth and he was really cute.” You whisper, a smile still appearing despite the silly comments.

You both lie there a little longer, the only noises in the bedroom coming from the soft exhales you both made as well as the little wall clock on the opposite side of the room. You're almost about to fall back asleep until you're jostled awake by Levi pulling away from you. You do your best to grab him and bring him back but he's too strong for you. Before you know it, you're staring at Levi's muscular back.

“I won't be long.” He says as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. His back and arms flex from the movement and you can't help but stare. Oh how you wish you could trail kisses down them right now. But you didn't have time for that.

“I'm coming with you.” You state matter-of-factly as you rip off your sheets in a dramatic show of display. You wish you hadn't as the winter morning air bites at your bare skin, but you had to make a point. Pushing yourself out of bed, you turn and stare at Levi with a look of determination.

“You hate shoveling.” Levi states back. He makes his way over to the closet to grab some winter clothing.

“I do. But you promised me hot tea and movies today and I'll be damned if this stops us. It will make it go faster.” You shrug as you follow Levi's steps.

Eventually, you and your husband are both fitted for the snow. He helps lace up your snow boots and you do the same for him. You look like you're ready for some miscellaneous winter sport, but unfortunately you were heading out for something far worse.

Shoveling sucks. Ten minutes in, you can already feel your arms burning and your back aching from bending at such an odd angle. Levi told you to only worry about the walkway connecting the front porch to the driveway. It's a small section compared to his and yet you're still struggling. You're doing your best to slow your breathing and take your time but you still feel sweat starting to accumulate. This chore is enough to make athletes question their fitness, you think.

About an hour passes until you're both done. You collapse into the snow, reveling in the cool that permeates the cloth beneath you. The sky is a brilliant blue with a few low clouds in the sky, no doubt the traces left behind last night's snow.

“I thought you said you wanted hot chocolate and movies.” Levi says as he steps over to you. His shadow covers your face and all you see now is his pretty features with a sun halo around his head.

“I do! I'm just waiting to see if death is going to take me now or later.”

Levi holds his hand out to you and you take it. He pulls you up like you're air and steadies your body to keep you from falling head first the other way. His nose and cheeks are rosy pink from the cold and you reach up to touch his face with your palm. He really is pretty.

“Something on my face?” His gray eyes almost look blue from the reflection of the afternoon sky and bright white snow.

“Yeah, your face. I like it.”

“You're so weird.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

“Do I?”

“Well you better. You’re stuck with this forever.” You laugh at his stoic expression with one raised eyebrow.

“Just go inside already. Take a warm shower while I get some tea started.” He shakes his head at you as you start to walk away. He calls your name at the same time you feel his gloved hand wrap around your arm.

In just a few seconds, he pulls you into him and is tilting your chin with his other hand towards his face. His lips meet yours gently, the warmth of it all spreading into your face and down to your toes. Then it's over as it started. His face pulls away as he looks into your eyes earnestly.

“Now go. I'm sure you have a ton of movies in mind.”

Levi’s special tea is done brewing around the same time you step out of the bedroom in a fresh pair of pajamas with fuzzy socks to boot. He had the living room ready for a night in. Fairy lights and candles decorate the mantle of the fireplace that sits ablaze. The warmth of it is immediate as you make your way to the couch already adorned with your favorite blankets.

“You know me so well.” You smile over at Levi who is just now setting a tray full of snacks and tea.

“Being together as long as we have will do that to you.” He says back nonchalantly, though you spot that little smile of his tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The movie you picked out was really good. The tea Levi made was even better. As you snuggle up into Levi's side, you take a few deep breaths of his musky scent. It's not long before you're drifting off to sleep again with dreams of snow-filled adventures and your perfect husband.

There is a little over a week left of my winter event! If you'd like to request something, go here for the rules! <3

#sky's winter event #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #x reader #levi ackermann #levi ackermann x reader #modern au #sky's moodboards #kat.moots

[eldritch-spouse]

Pinnie - or, if you're truly fine with it, Mommy cause you radiate that energy tbf - does Zizz like getting spanked?? Cause one thing that sounds really fantastic is tying a big monster boy up, head down ass up and spanking him until he's begging me to fuck him stupid X)

[I thought it'd be a little obvious I enjoy that title. FUCK YES THOUGH, I love the sound of that for Zizz. Fem reader.]

TW: Spanking (reader has to use a flogger this man is huge).

Being the wife of an Icon of Hell isn't always as bleak as you thought it'd be.

Sure, you didn't come into this willingly, and the first months you spent with Zizz certainly can't be called a walk in the park by any stretch of the imagination, but you count your lucky stars that it wasn't worse. That your initial expectations weren't met.

That he doesn't hurt you. That the demonlord actually made, and continues to make, efforts to turn this into an acceptable arrangement for you. You're not excusing any of his actions, but you've allowed yourself to feel glad for the way things have turned out, with a more or less loving dynamic established. You're not sure you'll ever match his frankly intimidating intensity, but... You're fond of Zizz.

And he's been happy with that so far, which means you've been steadily introduced to a lot of Zizz's duties as King of Sloth. It's actually quite surprising, the amount of work he gets done during the brief episodes wherein he's fully awake. Zizz is a bright demon, in spite of initial appearances. He's organized Sloth in a way where his trusted servants can pick up work perfectly when he inevitably falls onto a dead sleep at his desk. He's got alarms set up for very specific hours and manages to schedule things in a way where, almost magically, Sloth still functions. It's impressive.

He says having you around has been very helpful as well, since you apparently prove to be a very effective source of motivation for the demonlord to remain awake and complete tasks, so he can spend more time with you. You recall the way he purrs whenever you bring him a cup of coffee. Not that it does anything to him physically, you're sure it must be nothing more than a placebo effect paired with joy that you bother to do such for him in the first place.

Nonetheless, one of the facets of Zizz's professional life you've been involved in occasionally are the so-fabled "Icon meetings". It's... Well, they're shitshows more often than not, you kind of understand why Zizz dozes off early on. Usually, there's bickering going on, and it hardly ever involves the Sloth lord himself, so being awake is a waste of time as far as he's concerned. Clever thinking. Though it does make you feel slightly unsafe that he's willingly going unconscious while you're surrounded by other huge demons, who sometimes give you strange looks.

You're sure the gigantic snake woman is going to eat you one of these days, Livius is constantly glaring at you two, Cero has a disgusted look on his face whenever you meet his eyes and Rinx glances over everytime some gold trinket in your outfit jingles. You won't even get started on the Wrath lord's dreadful volume. Vesper is apparently one of the friendlier ones, it seems. He still gives you and Zizz lecherous glances, having blatantly propositioned the demonlord to let him sleep with you two at several points. While it scandalized you at first, you soon realized it was just in his nature to behave that way. Still, when he's not actively trying to get you horny, he's not bad company, and you've had quite a few pleasant conversations so far.

One such is what planted an idea in your mind.

If you recall correctly, it was at a meeting a couple of days ago, nothing too eventful was taking place, the Pride lord and the Greed lord were arguing heatedly about the state of cross-ring resource importation and some manner of "unreasonable inflation", it didn't matter. Vesper was sitting next to Zizz, who was predictably in a dead sleep in spite of the commotion. He had you trapped in his arms, which were crossed over his chest. You had been about ready to take a nap yourself when someone tapped your shoulder.

" Don't snooze just yet, darling, I'm terribly bored. " It was the Lust King, of course, flicking his lashes and pouting.

" Mmn, whaddya want? "

Vesper snickers. " Oh, humor me just this once? "

" 'M not going to have sex with you. " A muscle memory response by then.

" Yes, a shame. " He paused. " But, I actually want to know about your sex life with Zizz. "

You had popped an eye open there, not exactly amused.

" See, I spoke with Zizz when he was still single, and I know for a fact he's into a number of things... " Those sharpened teeth took on a perverted, pleased grin. " Have you two been exploring that? "

Had you? It was odd, aside from somnophilia and lazy sex, maybe a couple of slightly risky escapades, things hadn't really gotten spiced up. But then, you had only recently began getting sexually comfortable with Zizz, maybe he didn't want to jeopardize everything by introducing something hard into the bedroom. Vesper took that silence as an answer by itself, tutting softly.

" W- Why do you care?! " Why wouldn't he care? He's a huge whore, it's what he does.

" I just hate seeing potential go to waste, dear. " The Icon then murmured. " I can give you some hints, hm? "

The suggestion had given you pause. Indulging in Zizz's kinks... In your captor turned oddly-lovable demon's kinks. What had your life come to... But then, it'd be a lie to say you disliked the idea. The morality of it is frivolous, you're here now. There's no way out, you thought maybe you should lean into what amount of happiness you could reap from this situation. And maybe, just maybe, getting Zizz hot and bothered made you happy.

" U- Uhm. Okay... "

Vesper perked up, head tendril curling. " Perfect! I'll send you a little something something. You're a smart girl, you'll get the idea. " And he winked, letting the conversation die there.

A day later, one of the head imp servants approached you specifically with a delivery from Lust. A mysterious black box with a stupidly fancy bow on top. You opened it in your shared bedroom, coming face to face with a long silicone... Flogger? Paddle? One end featuring a pretty pastel pink heart shape while the other had feathers of the same hue. It clicked then. Spanking. Zizz was into spanking. How innocuous, you expected something a little more menacing. Included in the box was also a pair of handcuffs. The symbols on its sleek padded purple design made it obvious that it was enchanted with something. Though it was the size of the item that gave you pause. It was far too big for a human. For you. These cuffs were made for demons the size of Zizz.

Meaning you will not be the one getting spanked. The Icon of Sloth is.

That alone had taken you by surprise, though a knowing smirk quickly crawled up your cheeks while you pondered. It made sense. Zizz is a lazy demon, for sure. Sex with him usually has you doing most of the work, though he has proved to be an efficient pleaser when challenged before. Point being, Zizz's lack of energy makes him come off as submissive... It was no wonder that he'd enjoy taking the role of a spankee.

You liked that idea. A whole lot actually. A plan began formulating in your mind...

Which leads you to today!

Tonight actually.

You can't sleep. How could you?! You're going to spank your big goof of a boyfriend. King, actually. You're going to spank a King. Oh ho ho, if this isn't some power trip.

The room is dark, aptly dark for someone as light-sensitive as your partner, only some dim LED lights scattered around. You're once more trapped between a mountain of plushies and the demon's annoyingly tight grip as he lays on his side, chin plopped on top of your head. Zizz has recently taken to sleeping without his veil, perhaps because he trusts you not to peel the curtains open in the morning and blind him. Eitherway, that leaves the big lad in nothing but plain black underwear, overly hot body glued to yours. It's unpleasant to always wake up vaguely sweaty, but you've resigned yourself to it by now, it's part of this new life.

Alright. Step one is wiggling out of your prison.

Kicking and shoving stuffed animals aside sounds easy, and it really is, unless you're drowning in them, in which case you might as well be doing jack shit. Because everytime you push a shape out of the way, another fluffy thing will take its place, like quicksand. Eventually, with enough effort, you manage to create some vacant space in the bed. Good. Now comes the hard part.

Getting Zizz to let go of you.

You've been practicing. After all, he's done this since day one, and many were the times where you woke up in the middle of the night on emergency mode with a full bladder. Calling his name is fruitless, the demon will grunt or mumble at most, maybe whine. Taps and straight up slaps to his bare skin won't do anything either, he just shakes like jelly and snores. You've learned, through experience, that gentle attention is usually what gets Zizz to move.

Squirming to at least face the huge demon, you look up and frame his dark face. Soft, so weirdly soft. This part of him is as odd as it gets. He's like... A matchstick, featuring this charred-black head bleeding darkness into his neck. You'd figure such a part of him would be rough, but it's almost like a cloud. Grabbing those smooth cheeks, you place gentle kisses all over his face and exposed teeth, making sure to nuzzle your nose on him. Zizz faintly starts purring and readjusts his neck to be closer to you, but his arms remain firmly locked around your torso and waist, not even twitching. Tsk.

With a huff, you resort to more insistent tricks, tickling at his neck and trying to do the same to the parts of his tummy you can reach. That gets him to groan something nonsensical out, limbs jerking and tail swatting at the sheets. Yet still not enough. Fine then. Far from deterred, not only do you hasten the pace of your digits, you blow air onto his face periodically.

Finally, that appears to bother Zizz enough to slacken his hold, one arm raising to rub his features.

Knowing a golden opportunity when you see one, it's a matter wiggling insistently and tapping at his loose arm to finally, finally- Break free! Victory. Aha!

The demonlord very clearly notices the lack of heat and pressure on him, growing distressed ad grumbling amidst a deep slumber. It's almost cute, the way his tail thrashes in indignation.

That's step one. Step 2 is breaking out the nice stuff, conveniently hidden inside the closet you share with your King. It's not like he looks at it anyway, his servants basically do everything for him. And you. But it's okay to be a little pampered, right? The contents of the box are removed and tossed onto the bed after you clear it of excess pillows and plushies.

Step 3, the most difficult of them all. Rolling this fucker onto his stomach.

But how?

Hm...

Impact. You need to throw yourself. Though it could backfire and make him fall on you. Here goes nothing! With some momentum, you roll onto the bed and slam against a hard grayish body, mostly not achieving much beyond stunting yourself. But hey, you did wake him up slightly.

" Mmmr, whas' dat? "

Zizz rumbles out, a deep, slurred sleepy tone that always makes you shiver. " Hey... Roll onto your stomach? " Worth a try.

He sighs, and after a couple of seconds, basically flops onto his front like dead weight. Hah! You're not sure how awake the demonlord is right now, but it won't stop you.

" Zizz? " You try after getting back up, receiving no response from the static monster. Yep, he's out again. Truly remarkable.

No time to waste! Grabbing the cuffs, and securing the key somewhere of course, you drag his hands together, looping the toy around one of the top columns of this ridiculously large bed. The cuffs glow a slightly pink hue once locked. He didn't twitch a muscle through this... Sometimes you worry for Zizz's safety.

There! Now, onto the good part.

Having the large demon rolled over, you giggle to yourself in pure satisfaction and eye his plain boxers. It's funny, you have more than confirmed he doesn't use underwear with his typical garbs, but he puts it on to sleep. How odd. Climbing behind the large monster, you take a moment to appreciate his behind. Zizz is huge, and what's more, he's also on the curvier side, you're sure he's the softest demon out there. By virtue of the former, he also has a pretty fat ass, if you do say so yourself.

A cute, round, perfect ass.

Lips curled up, you drag bare palms up the Icon's legs, making sure to cup the fat of his heavy thighs before resting them on those fine globes. For someone who likes to call you "pillow" so much, you sure as Hell just found a perfect headrest right here. Your attention is caught by a periodically swaying tail, that pretty thin thing with a tip very similar to his horns. It looks like a half-moon. Your arm extends, grabbing the length of it much like a cat after a thread of yarn. It bats aimlessly in your grasp, until you peel it out of that special band in his boxers.

You're no angel, you're purposely giving yourself a titillating show when you grasp the hem of his underwear, dragging the fabric down slowly and biting your lip the moment it rests on his thighs. Perfect ass indeed. You could just bite him.

Instead, you pick up the long flogger Vesper generously gifted to you, choosing the feathered end to start your torture. Sitting cross-legged between the massive demon's legs, you start feathering at his limbs.

" Ziiizz... "

Nothing, predictably. The ministrations move higher, zigzagging playfully, resting over the crux between those thighs. " Zizzy. " No response.

Your notions become insistent, tickling at the expanse of skin between pucker and slit, occasionally rising to tease the root of his tail before dipping back down. Laughter rings out when the demonlord does move, shifting his ass and twitching his legs. The most you get out of him is another caveman grunt.

Tut tut.

Alright. No more playing around then.

Readjusting the toy, you quickly swat it against the meat of his left cheek.

Finally, the Sloth King jolts, making a much more sober sound. You can hear the rustling of those fancy cuffs against the bed post while Zizz gradually processes the situation.

" Mmn did... Did you just hit me? " He slurs, bright white eyes staring back at you from the relative darkness.

" Me? " You start innocently. " With these little hands? " As if to emphasize the point, you splay said feelers against his rump, groping to your heart's content, drumming on his rump a bit. He shudders when you lean in to plant a kiss on the spot you just swatted. " You wouldn't even feel it, right? "

Before the demon can answer, you grasp the cute flogger again and swipe it across his right cheek. Zizz instantly shudders, muscles tensing. Hm, Vesper wasn't kidding, this does work. Good.

" M-Marshmallow? What is that? " His tone is breathy, that doesn't sound like a complaint to you.

" Don't worry about it too much. " And just because you like seeing his buffer jiggle, you lash it again, a little lower, a more tender spot if your research is correct.

Zizz chuffs something incomprehensible. The sleepiness apparently leaving him steadily at this turn of events. " Am... 'M I being punished? " He murmurs, legs spreading ever so slightly.

You take the time to think about it while you remove his underwear fully. Are you punishing your King? You could, by all means, you're still essentially a captive, even if you've decided to make the most out of it. Why not spin this in a different direction?

" I don't know Zizz, do you want to be punished? " The question hangs thick in the air while you play with the rubber tip of the toy, waiting.

His brain might not be fully back online, because the demonlord makes a confused sort of "Hhrn?" noise. The next swat has some heft behind it, actually making him arch!

" Words. "

" No... " He finally squeezes out.

You laugh. Yeah right, like he hasn't been pushing his ass up this entire time. You're willing to bet his slit is already wet. " Then what do you want? "

Zizz makes a drawn-out purr, trying to look back at you from his awkward position while his tail dances. " Mm, I want you to suck me off- "

CRACK

" Selfish! Mutt! " Each word punctuated with much harder swats. " Unbelievable... " Zizz pants now, actually pants. " Get on your knees. "

When he takes too long to obey, he's rewarded with yet another lash smack dab on the same side. " We don't have all day! "

" Owww f-fuck- " Doing as told, a clear string of viscous precum connects his slit to the silken sheets beneath him, making you just about steam alive. " You're so mean. "

Rolling your eyes yet smiling wide, you point the feathered side to his dripping entrance and tease it thoroughly, laughing when Zizz squirms in frustration, never getting decent stimulation no matter which way he leans. It only succeeds in making him wetter. " And you're hopeless, my lord. " Switching ends, you allow him direct contact with the pink silicone heart, something the horny monster greedily accepts, rocking against it like an animal, trying to hump the thing.

It's a lecherous show, a sight that just about has you salivating, your pussy seeming to jolt awake as you consider getting beneath the cuffed demon and letting him rut at you. No, not so fast, not this time. The more he huffs and rolls his hips, the less mental fortitude you retain, so you cut the scene short by harshly and suddenly slapping the tip against his slit. A bit cruel, admittedly.

Zizz jerks forward, a loud pained whimper followed by horny little gasps as he buries his whining face in pillows and instinctively bucks against nothing, tingles of pain and pleasure working their way through his body. In a matter of seconds, that gorgeous purple cock is slipping out to play, more than teased and ready. You lick your lips, considering doing just what he wanted for a sliver of a second.

Instead, you snicker and brush his length with the same fluffy feathers. Zizz actually tugs at the cuffs this time, head rising. " Please! "

" Already? " Your brows rise, but it's not much of a surprise at all. It's not hard to make the demonlord beg, he gives in easily, because it takes less effort. You suspect a part of him enjoys feeling powerless anyway. " Tsk, come on, at least try. "

Zizz groans. " Mmh please please please please- "

Figures. Slut.

Your response is to crack that flogger several times across both sides of his ass, hard enough that it does start leaving heart-shaped imprints. And... Aw, it's adorable! You just have to see more of those pretty deep blue hearts on his ass. So pretty...

In a lustful stupor, enamored by those lovely hearts, you keep lashing the thing on several spots, ignoring the way the demonlord howls and trembles, even going for his thighs. He's a big boy, and strong at that. He can deal with a bit of thigh flogging. By the time you've calmed down, breathing heavily, his lower half is peppered in cute little hearts, sore, some spots starting to bruise in even prettier colors. But most importantly, Zizz is sobbing.

You hadn't even heard him.

Whimpering and moaning softly like some sort of overwhelmed animal. You wonder if maybe you've gone too far until you see his cock throbbing repeatedly. Then again, if he really wanted to stop this, he could have by now, you don't believe the cuffs would be an issue given what you've seen Zizz do before.

" Do you think you can come just from this? I think you can. " You half-mock.

The King of Sloth makes a pathetic little noise betraying some great exasperation. " No! No no nn- Please- Please, I'll take anything jus' make me come please- " You wonder what it says about yourself that his sobbing voice makes you heat up like a furnace, shuddering.

The next thing that connects to Zizz's ass is neither the paddle nor the feathers, but your small human hands. He twitches regardless, more than sensitive enough to wince from something as simple as a gust of wind. " Alright, but only because you took it all like a champ. "

Gentle lips peck and smooch around the places you thoroughly abused, a spare hand snaking to his front so you can grab his weeping girth and treat him to generous strokes, not enough to let him orgasm yet. No, you want to take your sweet time, swiping your tongue from the bottom of his slit, all the way up and over his hole. The other moans out, audibly splintering something in the bed post so he can press harder against your flat tongue.

Your chuckle vibrates against his skin, and as fun as eating him out could be, your goal is that appendage thrashing and thumping around. A brilliantly devious idea has you catching the thing with your teeth, nipping at it at the same time your pumps increase in pressure.

Zizz somehow manages to melt more into the sheets, trembling like a leaf. " Hhrn- Don't stop don't stop donn- Ah! " And you don't. Offering the massive monster one last, thunderous clap to his ass the very moment he starts coming.

It's a spectacular show. He comes hard, whining out like a needy harlot, grinding deep into your hand, shooting thick ropes all across it and the bed. Enough in quantity to make you titer. Cooing and swooning, you make sure to milk everything out of Zizz, hearing him huff out in complete euphoria. You only stop when his trembling becomes pained hissing, quickly moving to remove those cuffs while he sags onto the mattress like an emptying balloon. Atop a small pool of his own seed, ew... It's funny, he didn't even pull that hard at the cuffs. Sure, the bed post is visibly damaged, but he behaved fairly well, all things considered!

This was a great test run.

It's not too long before you hop into bed, on top of Zizz's spent body and blowing raspberries on his back. The Icon chuckles tiredly.

" You should see your ass right now. " You smirk.

" You ruined it. " He laments, sighing.

Laughing, you give him a soft kiss and massage his sore wrists. " You did very well, my King. Maybe you should tell me more about your tastes in the future, hm? "

Zizz snorts after a couple of puzzled seconds. " It was Vesper, wasn't it? "

" We're gonna thank him tomorrow. "

Although Zizz makes a disgruntled noise, you catch the very same tail you bit on wagging.

#Zizz oc #terato #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #minors dni

[cutesyscreenname]

A Cowboy Like Me : Chapter 2

What Must It Be Like

Chapter 1

Series summary:

I've had some tricks up my sleeve

Takes one to know one

You're a cowboy like me

Javier Peña is a playboy, sleeping his way across Bogotá, never settling down. And he's used to being the only one. What happens when he meets his match? A friendly challenge between friends couldn't hurt, could it? Unless that friend is you...

Chapter Summary: Javier thinks over everything that happened at the bar as he and Steve get you home. He shouldn't be feeling like this...

Pairing: Javi Peña x f reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: drinking, hangover, language, angst 😉

Notes: So this is turning into a much longer endeavor than originally intended 😂 I thought it would only be a few parts but I capped this bad boy at 3k and we only made it halfway to where I thought we would. The next one will likely be even longer so hopefully y'all are down for it.

Here is the song mentioned at the end (there's no canon for it but I feel like Javi would have a few records from the 70's he brought from home and Santana would be one of them):

And the full playlist:

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

From the moment your eyes closed until you reached the parking lot of your shared apartment building there was no sound but the dull rumble of the engine and a gentle crooning over the radio.

Javier leaned his dark curls against the headrest, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing in front of him.

Steve’s eyes flickered over to his friend with concern but he held his tongue. The man was a million miles away, gears turning so quickly behind his eyes Steve swore he could hear the faint sound of metal scraping over itself in a desperate grind.

A cowboy. Like him.

I do what Javi does.

I'll prove it to you.

I hear it every time I try to sleep.

You're declarations float around Javier's mind in a jumble, a record that someone keeps lifting and dropping the needle onto at random.

You were a tricky one, no doubt about it. It’s why he liked you, why he wanted your friendship. Smart but not pretentious, guarded yet forgiving, sure footed but still a little reckless, and the biggest heart that you thought no one could see. Maybe they couldn’t, but he could.

He had imagined your romances before; tentative coffee dates, sweet kisses shared in taxis, most of your suitors left disappointed aside the select few who manage to be invited up for a night cap.

He had supposed not even these lucky finalists would prove to meet the standard for dating you longer than a week, a month tops, nor should they. The man you would keep long enough to mention, to bring to drinks, to invite for dinner at Steve and Connie’s, he couldn’t build such a human in his mind’s eye.

Javier had posited all of this and a million other things but none of his thoughts matched what you had just divulged.

Entertaining my companions.

Like Javi does.

The evening in review plays on the projector screen of his hippocampus.

Quick like a bunny, sweetheart, or I won't tip ya.

Even though it was for the sake of a deprecating joke, you’d never called him sweetheart before that night. It made his ears burn and he’d practically bolted to the bar to hide the involuntary flush sure to be staining his cheeks.

Pinche mocosa, he’d thought to himself, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. The smart little mouth on her.

Later in the evening you’d groaned when Javi appeared with three tequila shots in hand.

‘Come on, we don’t have to be at the office tomorrow. Plus, Steve is a better conversationalist when I’m drunk.’

With a ‘good point' from you and ‘fuck you both’ from Steve the three of you licked salt from your hands, kicked back the poison, and pressed your teeth into limes like sucking venom from a snake bite.

His gaze couldn’t help but linger on the way your flat tongue slid across the skin between your thumb and forefinger to collect the salt crystals, his breath hitching when your lips rolled over the edge of the citrus rind as you sucked the juice from it’s flesh.

A deer in the headlights, he’d been snapped from his reverie by the man across from him.

‘Ooooo-wee. I’m switchin’ to beer after this. Someone’s gotta get you two geniuses back home later.’

‘Awww, thanks dad.’ You’d said ruffling Steve’s hair.

After your glass had emptied and refilled once and then twice more, Steve started poking the bear to amuse himself, going after the way the drink colored your words with a heavy Texas twang.

Javier relished in it, your lilting voice drawing him in like a moth to a porch light. It felt nostalgic, like the polaroid of his mamá that rested between the pages of the book on his nightstand; intimate, like a secret piece of you, buried beneath the Gulf Coast clay, awaiting your return home.

Ever the co-conspirator, you followed his lead to help him land a crude joke. Not his finest, but enough to make you laugh which was plenty for him. Then something shifted.

‘Oh it’s what they ALL say, I hear ‘em every time I try to sleep at my place.’

You’d tormented the man about his noise level before. Hell, just that morning you'd been playfully ribbing him for it. It’s not like Javier tried to keep it down. He could hear the creak of your wicker ceiling fan when he lay in his own bed chasing sleep.

The paper thin walls between you concealed nothing. Sometimes Javier swore he could hear you thinking too hard on the other side of the studs and drywall. So it stood to reason that no matter what he did to dampen the lewd soundtrack you’d hear it, and if he couldn’t shield you from it he figured it was moot to even try.

The tone in your voice tonight, though, it was different. Still playful, still antagonistic, but there was a rough undercurrent slipping through. If it weren’t for Steve’s uncanny knack for levity, Javi might have gotten caught in the undertow.

‘Girl’s out to catch Escobar all on her lonesome.’

A solid deflection but you spurred on.

I do like Javi does.

A cowboy.

Like me.

I’ll prove it.

His mind was reeling, trying to amend the portrait of you in his mind. It felt impossible. You must have been fucking with them. He was really feeling the alcohol, more intoxicated than he’d been in a long while. He was reading it wrong. Back to the script. Back to the game.

‘I don’t fuckin believe you, cariño.’

If you thought he wouldn’t call your bluff you had another thing coming. With all the cool and confidence he could muster, Javier dug his heels in even more.

‘In fact I think you’re home every night. Ear pressed to my fuckin wall, apparently.’

Yup. That would do the trick. The point goes to Agent Peña. But no-

A wave of anger flashed across your eyes, making Javier’s throat run dry.

I’ll prove it to you.

If his mind had been racing before, it short circuited when you took two of your delicate fingers and pressed them to the exposed skin of his chest. He couldn’t fight the shiver that ran through his body so he just hoped you hadn’t noticed it.

And then you- God. Fuck.

You reached up and tapped his cheek gently with your hand, your determined gaze softening just so as you peered up at him. He almost leaned into the touch. Get yourself together, Peña. She doesn’t see you like that. Goddamn tequila - una idea estúpida. He turned away from you, trying to collect his thoughts, but in his periphery he could see you were on the move.

Too sloshed to walk without stumbling, you’d swayed dangerously when you stood in pursuit of another drink. Acting on instinct, Javier had placed his steady, calloused hands around your waist. The warmth of your skin through your t-shirt seemed to creep up his fingers and send a searing current down his spine.

His hands stay curled around you for what feels like an eternity and he wonders when you’ll slap them away. To anyone that asked he’d say he had kept hold on you because he couldn't let you fall over. Really, though, he couldn’t let go if he’d tried, a man electrified, hands locked in place on the raw, exposed wire of your form.

He'd flashed a pleading look to Steve and nearly collapsed when the man took you by the hand, breaking the circuit.

He trailed behind as Murphy helped you to the car with a strong arm around your shoulders, taking the opportunity to run his hands over his face, trying to calibrate his thoughts. He sealed himself in the front passenger seat and slipped into silent thought as you slid your eyes closed.

The next sound Javi took note of was his friend’s voice.

“Jav- we’re here, man.” His tone was gentle and Javi couldn’t tell if he appreciated the care or resented what bordered on sounding like pity.

“Let’s get you both upstairs, be good to sleep it off a little.”

Javier nods, not moving at first as Steve glances at the back seat where you lay, still lost in slumber.

The man in the driver’s seat reaches back and gives you a firm shake, calling your name a handful of times before sighing.

“I’m gonna need your help getting her upstairs, bud.” Yup that was definitely pity, Javier decided.

Not wanting to prove the man right, whatever he was thinking, Javi exited the car briskly and opened the back door on the side opposite your head. Lifting your calves from the where they hung over the edge of the seat, he hooked his hands beneath the crooks of your knees and pulled you to the threshold.

When he chanced a quick look at your face he took note of how soft, how peaceful you looked. Would you even remember the night's events in the morning?

Steve moved to help but didn’t get the chance as Javier steeled himself and swiftly maneuvered you, first sitting you upright in the seat before lifting to carry you in front of him. One arm beneath your legs, the other supporting your back, and your head slumped drowsily into his shoulder, he steeled his expression and started toward the apartment wordlessly, Steve hustling to catch up and help with the door.

“Can you tell where her keys are at?”

Javi sighed as they reached the landing. Your warmth pressed into his torso and he found himself torn between wanting to hold you tighter, to soak it in, and needing to get as far from you as possible.

“Well her pockets are clearly empty, so I’m guessing she keeps ‘em next to her cash. Not sure about you, Murphy, but I’m not lookin’ to cop a feel of an unconscious woman.”

It was the smart move, keeping your pockets empty and stashing the necessities in your bra, but it was a hindrance at this moment.

“Yeah that’s a game of go fish no one would be pleased with. Alright. She can crash with me and Connie.” Javi gave a quick nod to acknowledge his friend and turned you both toward the Murphys' door.

The lock turned almost silently under Steve’s careful movements but the hushed entry proved unnecessary when they walked in to see his beautiful wife, Connie, standing at the kitchen counter.

“Hey gang.” Her voice was soft and warm, gently welcoming the three of you in as though it was home to you and Javier as well. “She okay?”

“Yeah, honey. Just can’t find her keys and-“

“Say no more.” She waves off the explanation.

As Javier settles you onto the couch, Steve steps into the kitchen to speak with her quietly.

“What are you doin’ up, baby?”

She matched his hushed tone, just low enough to evade Javi’s range of hearing.

“Well when I woke up a bit ago and you weren’t here I figured drinks ran late. I’m about to put the kettle on, I thought at least one of you could use some tea and aspirin.”

“Let’s skip the tea and leave her some aspirin. Javi’s in no shape for company. I’ll tell you later.”

She nodded while Steve went to fill a glass with water for you.

As if on cue, “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, Connie, but I’m gonna head out.”

He finished pulling a blanket over your limp frame, slowly turning toward them with apologetic eyes.

“ No worries, Javi. I’m on my way back to bed anyway. Thanks for helping Steve get her inside.” Her knowing smile had him feeling uneasy.

“Anytime.” He replied softly. He and Steve exchanged quick nods and Javier slipped from their dwelling to his own. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it with an exhausted sigh.

What was he even thinking? Why should he be bothered? There was no good reason.

You were his friend, perhaps his best friend, and he had learned a surprising fact about you. That was all. He had no right to be anything but slightly surprised, maybe amused.

He didn’t worry for your safety, he’d seen you take down grown men twice your size on the job. You could handle yourself, no problem.

And so what if you were chasing away your demons? Lord knows he does the same. Columbia was vast and humid. The underbelly of the drug trade held the country in its bloody grip, pressing in on you from all directions. The assignment was full of uncertainty and it left Javier so lonely in the silence of his government issued abode.

He would do anything to fill the empty spaces, to stave off the cold tendrils that would pull at the walls of his chest when he lied awake, freefalling through the dark skies of his mind until morning. He could never fault you for doing the same.

Slumping into the worn sofa, his eyes shut slowly. Nothing is wrong. I drank too much and I'm being dramatic. She doesn't even think of me that way. It's not a big deal.

Still, as the weight of the day sank into his bones, sleep beckoning softly, his mind drifted to your faint sigh as you had nuzzled into his neck in your sleep while Steve unlocked his front door. When he opened his eyes again it was morning.

You awoke with a low groan, a sharp pain throbbing a wild cumbia rhythm behind your eyes. What happened last night?

You cracked open one eye cautiously, then the other, thankful to find the room somewhat dim around you. Only the small lamp across the room from you was on, blinds and curtains muffling the sunlight that tried to peek through the window behind you.

Eyes adjusting quickly, you recognized the comfortable sight of the Murphys’ living room. It was the same exact layout as yours, but Connie’s warm touch made all the difference. The soft decorative pillows, kitschy knick knacks, and framed candid photos transformed the small unit into something that felt like a home.

Okay I'm on Murphy’s sofa. So- Your gaze finds the full glass of water and bottle of aspirin on the coffee table. The puzzle pieces begin to fit together quickly. Just as you start to recall what happened the night before, what you had said, Steve slipped out of his bedroom and noticed you stirring.

“Heyyy good morning. How ya feel?” Thankfully he kept his tone low, guessing the answer to his own question.

“I’ve been better.” You croak, sitting up gingerly.

“I thought that might be the case. You see the Aspirin? Connie made sure to close the curtains for ya.”

“Yes thank you.” You tap two pills into your palm and kick them back with a healthy glug of water. “Is there a chance I could have some-“

“Already on it.” Steve was moving to fill the coffee maker with water before you asked.

“Where is that angel you tricked into marrying you?”

“At the clinic, unfortunately. Somebody called in sick and they’re so shorthanded as it is. She said to give you her best and inform you that you’d better come for dinner soon.”

You raised your eyebrows as Steve raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, kid. I’m just quotin’. You know she won’t take no for an answer.”

You chuckled in reply.

Once your mugs were filled with rich black liquid, Steve placed them on the table in front of you, taking a seat on the sofa. You both sipped in silence for a few moments before you decided to break the ice.

“So…last night. Um. Did I-“ You did not want to ask but you needed confirmation. “Did I basically tell y’all all about my sex life in no uncertain terms?” You wince when you hear the words out loud.

“Well, my friend, in no uncertain terms… you said that Javi’s lady friends are so loud you can’t sleep so you conduct your own ah – activities – in other venues, namely the homes of your own dates.”

You groaned loudly and covered your face with your hands. It wasn’t a dream. You’d definitely made a tequila shaped mistake and said the in-your-head thing out loud.

“Do ya wanna hear the rest or should I just leave it be?”

“There’s MORE?” You didn’t want to ruminate, better to rip the band-aid off. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. So that, and then I guess Javi thought you were kiddin’ so he tried to push your buttons and you said somethin’ about provin’ it to him.”

The confirmation was all you needed, the words flooding back to you all at once.

Ear pressed to my fuckin’ wall apparently.

Ah yes, the anger. You were remembering quickly. Pendejo. Why wouldn’t he believe that about you? You weren't a delicate flower, some witless debutante in need of safekeeping. You were his friend and his fucking equal. Of course rubbing his nose in it seemed appealing, especially after so many drinks.

Polishing off the contents of your mug, you placed it on the table and stood, crossing to the door.

“I think I should go back to mine. I just-“

“Yeah. No. I get it.”

“Thanks for not diving for my keys, by the way. And ya know…everything else.” You smiled weakly at the man on the sofa.

“Yeah we, uh, figured that wouldn’t work out well. For all involved.” He chuckled. “As for the rest, anytime, kid. You know that.”

You nod and open the door. “I’ll call Connie soon.”

“Oh believe me, if you don’t she’ll be at your doorstep. She knows where ya live.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Bye Murphy.”

Once alone in your apartment, you stripped off your jeans and t-shirt, collapsing on your bed as you vowed to shower after another round of sleep.

You could hear the faint sound of Javier’s record player, the muffled melody lulling you into relaxation.

I am just a mirage

Oh, I am just a mirage

When you look at me

Through your crystal glass you will see

That I am now your past

But you give your love to me

In your life I wasn’t meant to be.

Oh I am just a mirage

Oh I am just a mirage

Just a mirage fading away like water

The faint guitar licks pull you towards sleep like a receding tide carrying you out to sea. Even as you sink into slumber, you almost swear you can hear Javi thinking too hard on the other side of the paper thin wall.

Let me know if y'all wanna be on the tag list! I'll have one going as long as Tumblr cooperates 😂

@heythere-mel

#cowboy like me #first fic #friends to lovers #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #dont call me kid #dont blame me #look at this godforsaken mess that you made me #javi x reader #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javi pena x reader #javi peña #narcos #gold rush #pov #Spotify

[mignonricciardo]

medicine | ln4

someone get this man some vitamins ! this is the second thing I've written about him being sick this season but I'm obsessed with the thought of taking care of mr. lando norris <3

summary: food poisoning in brazil means your boyfriend needs some medicine (1k words)

warnings: mentions of being sick to stomach, lovey dovey words, lots of fluff

The sudden movement of the mattress paired with the weight of extra blankets on top of me startles me awake. Once my pounding heart calms, I rub my eyes and look around. The spot in the bed is empty but still warm, and I catch a glimpse of the bathroom light beneath the door. I’m about to call his name, but that’s when I hear him. 

“Babe?” I say despite his gasps from the bathroom. 

I grab his water bottle from his side of the bed, cracking the bathroom door open. He’s kneeling in front of the toilet, elbows propped on the seat and his head in his hands. I don’t give him a chance to shut me out, and I slide into the bathroom with eyes squinting against the light. I crouch down next to him, placing his water bottle on the tile before my hand rests on his back, rubbing soothing circles against his warm skin. After a moment, he heaves again, but I stay rooted next to him with my hand on his back. 

“You can go back to bed,” he gasps after flushing, swishing water around in his mouth. 

My fingers continue their slow circles on his skin, “Not a chance.”

“I’m okay,” he answers softly, head still hanging in his hands. 

“No, you’re not,” I whisper, fingers reaching toward the short hair at the nape of his neck. He meets my eyes in the harsh bathroom light before I continue, “What can I do?”

He shakes his head slowly, wild curls bouncing on top of his head, “Just being here is enough.”

I nod, fingers working through his hair in an act of comfort, and I stay crouched next to him on the tile floor. I’m not sure how long we stay in the position beneath the harsh hotel lights with my fingers rubbing his scalp, but my frequent yawning causes him to clear his throat as he speaks.

“Get some sleep, babe, seriously,” his voice rasps. “I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll get you a few things ready,” I whisper, knees cracking as I stand back up. 

Lando suddenly grabs my hand, stopping me before I walk away, and whispers quietly in the silent hotel, “Love you.”

I squeeze his hand, “Love you, too.”

As he brushes his teeth in the bathroom, I get a few things ready in the room in case he’s sick again. I leave an electrolyte drink and an extra water on his nightstand, and I put the small trash can next to his side of the queen-size bed. I sit back in my spot on the bed, sheets going cold because we’ve been out of them for so long, and wait for him to emerge from the white tiled-bathroom. He flicks the light off, and I can’t help but smile softly as I take in his soft appearance—tanned torso complemented by cream sweatpants and wild curls. He flops onto the bed, immediately curling into me, and my arms wrap around him as one snakes toward his scalp to run through his curls. 

“Don’t know what’s wrong,” he mumbles into my side. “Think I ate something.”

“Well, good for you, it’s only media day,” I laugh softly, trying to bring some light to the situation.

He nods against me, head pressed against my chest, “I have to call Jon and the team.”

“We will in a bit,” I stifle my yawn, feeling heavy beneath the weight and warmth of his body pressed to mine. “It’s only 3 in the morning. Everyone will be asleep.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he mumbles softly, and my heart splinters at his apology. 

“Lando,” my voice is gentle near his ear, trailing off as I lose my train of thought.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” he mumbles again, eyes fluttering shut. “Already feel better.”

I laugh quietly at his cheesy comment, heart swelling as warmth floods my veins, “Well, I’m not leaving your side until you’re 100%. You’ve got points to score.”

“My medicine and my number one fan?” he mumbles with a dopey smile, looking at me through lashes thick with fatigue. “How’d I get so lucky?”

I leave a gentle kiss against his forehead, pushing curls back from his face, “I wonder the same thing.”

He sighs contently as he readjusts our positioning, wrapping his arms around me in an embrace with his cheek pressed against my chest. The duvet is pulled over most of his back, revealing the tanned skin between his shoulder blades and muscled back, and our legs tangle beneath the sheets. We lay in silence for several minutes, feeling our limbs grow heavy and breath grow slower, and I relish in the closeness between us. 

“You know I love you, right?” he whispers, chest rumbling as he does. 

My eyes are closed, but I nod my head anyways as my heart flutters, “You remind me here and there.”

“I’m serious, babe,” he mumbles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lando,” I mutter, grinning as he squeezes his arms around my waist. “Are you feeling okay?”

He nods his head, “Because of you, yeah.”

“Good,” I huff. “When you feel sick again, wake me up. I promise you I’ll be far more upset if you don’t let me help you.”

“Deal,” he mutters, fingertips digging into my hips. “Babe?”

“Hmm?” I answer, eyes feeling heavy.

“You’re my favorite medicine,” he mutters, and I hold back laughter at his comment.

“I’ll let that slide only because you're sick,” I mumble. “Now, let’s go to bed.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers, nuzzling his head into me. “Love you.”

“Love you,” I respond back, relishing in the steady rise and fall of his chest against me. “I’m always here. Let me know if you want actual medicine in the morning.”

He chuckles, chest rumbling beneath the duvet, “This is perfect.”

#lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula one fluff

[silverynight]

Mitsuri and Shinobu bringing food and tea to Tanjirou’s room while he’s preparing for his last few days of pregnancy. Right before they enter, they hear Tanjirou talking to himself. They open the door just a crack and notice he's caressing his swollen belly and talking to his unborn pups.

“Your father Gyomei-San is the tallest and strongest and his heart is even bigger. He cries at times but don’t take it too hard. Unfortunately, he’s blind so he won’t know what you look like, but his other senses make up for that. And it’s wonderful when he lifts you up in his big strong arms and carries you. Whenever he does that to me…. I feel so safe. You’ll love it, he’s a gentle giant and will be there for you.

Then there’s your other father Sanemi-san. He may come off as scary based on his appearance alone, but he has a good heart, he has a habit of biting cheeks to show he cares. Don’t mind it. He will protect you with everything he has! He likes ohagi a lot and he’ll probably make a bunch for you. He’s such a sweetheart, though he’ll will play it off as nothing. And your Uncle Genya is a sweetie too! And a great marksman. You’ll adore him for sure! I can tell he will be a great uncle!

Your next father, Kyojuro-san, is a wonderful man! He has a presence that just pulls you in! His hearing is a bit messed up, so he speaks loudly. But don't let that frighten you. And his hair, oh I ADORE his hair, you will too! It's just like fire. His personality is as blazing as his heart. He'll probably introduce you to your Uncle Senjuro and Grandpa Shinjuro! Senjuro is a sweet docile boy, you'll both love each other so much. Your Jii-chan Shinjuro....well.... he may be a bit unapproachable at first. He's been through some hardships. Mainly due to the passing of your late grandmother, Ruka. He loved her so deeply. I never met her, but from what Kyojuro-san has said about her, she was as wise as she was beautiful, and as beautiful as she was kind. Give your grandpa time to warm up to you. He will cherish you in the end.

Another thing about Kyojuro is that he has quite the appetite, well him and one of your mothers, Mitsuri-san. She also has beautiful hair, it's truly magnificent! It matches her personality. She's one of the sweetest women, and the amount of love she'll shower you with. And she's incredibly strong!!! Another thing, if you see Mitsuri, Papa Iguro will definitely be right by her. He tends to keep to himself a lot and isn't very social. After spending time with him, he's a good man. And has strong bond with his snake, Kaburamaru. I swear it's as if they're mentally linked. He's a lovely snake and likes pats on the head.

Next is Tengen-san, who was a ninja before he was a Hashira. But he left that life behind, him and his three wives too! They are kunoichi, and beautiful strong ones too! They're your mamas too, and they will keep an eye on you. Makio-san is brave and fierce, Suma-san is sensitive and bubbly, Hinatsuru-san is kind and motherly! Tengen-san is very.... flamboyant. He cares A LOT about being flashy and no doubt will make sure you're the flashiest pups around. No doubt.

Shinobu-san will make sure you healthy and always in good shape! She has an intimidating presence despite her sweet smile, but she's as lovely and elegant as a butterfly. She had a big sister named Kanae, maybe she'll tell you more about her. She misses her dearly. There are also the butterfly girls and Aoi, I think Aoi wanted to bash my head with how much I missed your sires cues on their feelings for me. But, Aoi can't wait to see you guys and the little girls will think of you as their baby siblings.

Muichiro-san may seem as though he can't focus on anything, but I promise he'll have his attention on you every second of every day. He was the most thrilled when he realized you were triplets! Makes sense since he himself is a twin. Hold his hand and watch how he'll have his focus on you so quickly.

And last but not least, Giyuu-san. In a way, he's the main reason why you guys exist. Not for THAT reason, your existence was a....team effort. Had he have not helped me and your Auntie Nezuko....I don't even know what would have happened to us. I owe him so much. All of them. They are the BEST alphas an Omega could have. And when you guys grow up into your own people, I hope you are as amazing, strong, caring, fun, loving, and wonderful as them when you lot arrive. I love them so much and they love you so much. I can't wait to hold you in my arms and neither can they! A lot of us didn't have the happiest lives, but we're going to make sure that you guys and your future siblings won't have to deal with the pain, loss, and fear we did. We'll be watching over you until we draw our last breath."

With that declaration, Tanjirou kisses his hand and presses it against his belly. A small tap hits his hand, his pups can't wait to meet him and their sires either. Hearing a sob, Tanjirou turns his attention to the door....

"Shinobu-san, are you crying? Why are you–" Tanjirou is cut off when Mitsuri jumps into his arms, although she's very careful when she does. "You too? Why? Are you alright?"

"We love you so much, Tanjirou!" Mitsuri sobs in his arms, making sure not to put any kind of pressure on the omega's belly.

"And I love you too!"

"We know," Shinobu nods, wiping a couple of tears off her cheeks before handing him a cup of warm tea.

After a while they let him know they heard everything he was telling the pups and Mitsuri asks him to repeat it in front of the others which Tanjirou does gladly when they're back; he's shy now that he has an audience and he doesn't remember exactly what he said, but he remembers the feeling and the love he felt for his Pillars... So the words that come out of his mouth are not exactly the same, but they carry the same message.

And every single one of his alphas love it. When they hug him and kiss him after that, Tanjirou knows his pups can tell they'll be in good hands.

"What did I tell you?" Tanjirou strokes his belly a couple of times. "They're great, aren't they? You'll love to be part of this family."

#omegaverse #demon slayer #asks #ask silverynight

[cher-rium]

Liquid fashioning Snake’s sneaking suit with his own flare.

I really enjoy Liquid as a character. I haven’t played all the games in the franchise quite yet but I’ve finished MGS1.

Here are some headcanons for if Liquid lived through Foxdie or wasn’t targeted by it in the first place:

-He honestly really reminds me of Dio Brando (another fictional fave of mine) so I think he’d have a similar relationship as Dio did with Jonathan. A burning hatred accompanied some level of respect. Maybe Liquid, after being defeated by Snake, would have some respect for him but still bicker and have a corny little rivalry. 

-Honestly, I think he’d share a lot of personality traits with Dio! Just very… not intimidating.

-Since we’re still on the topic of JOJO, I imagined him having hair closer to REO Speedwagon? Like in my head I was like “yeah Liquid has slightly wavy/curly hair” and then I looked up reference images for this drawing and i sharted a little. His hair is so FLAT. I think there should be an appropriate middle-ground where his hair is still straight but has waaayyy more volume similarly to his little PS1 model.

-Liquid seems like the type to hold grudges so I don’t think there’s going to be much forgiving besides tolerance.

-It’d be really comical if Liquid accompanied Snake and Otacon and they’re just dragging around this man-child who keeps complaining and bragging. 

-I intentionally avoided giving Liquid any of the gear that Snake has on his suit. I think Liquid would purposely try to out-do Snake at every turn, thus going into missions naked so he can brag when things go well. 

-However when things don’t go well, I think he’d be like the average Overwatch player and just blame his teammates or bad luck. I feel like he’s the kind of guy to make REALLY shitty decisions in fights just for the sake of looking/feeling cool and then getting his ass beat. 

-And then after a whooping he comes back down to earth and actually does something useful 💀 (or Snake saves him)

-I know the sneaking suit has the shirt for a reason but, bro had his tits out on shadow moses, he can withstand the cold.

-I gave him grey hairs and a few more wrinkles than he initially appeared with to account for his aging.

-I can kindaaaa see him applying black eyeliner to his waterline. I also added really long eyelashes since I think he’d slay mascara too !

-I don’t think he and Otacon would get along at all initially. My thought is that Otacon tries to introduce him to anime or Japanese media as a whole to try to find something they can both enjoy. Personally, I really see Otacon being into your typical high school or magical girl anime and Liquid would be super-turned off from it. So instead they’d watch like Cowboy Bebop, Yu Yu Hakusho, Berserk, Ghost in the Shell, AKIRA, etc. Stuff that might be appealing to some random guy.

-It’s kinda hard to speak on anything relating to Snake cuzzzz uhhhh y’know I haven’t actually played most of the games– I’m particularly referring to the one where Liquid is a kid! (WHICH im really tempted to play rn in the middle of MGS2 since I REALLY wanna see Lil Liquid). That would give a lot more context ‘cuz I’m currently learning about everything relating to the other games via fanart and discussion posts here on Tumblr 💀

-Idk maybe they can bond on shared trauma man i got no clue

-Raiden? Uh? Okay say he’s [Liquid] involved in MGS2 (or at least the start of it since I haven’t gotten very far in): I feel like Raiden would be really annoyed by Liquid. Just a crazy dumbass making things more stressful than they already are. 

-I didn’t really draw it here but I think Liquid would have downturned eyes while Snake would have upturned eyes. Idk like if I could show the facial structure in my head, Liquid’s sitting face would be really miserable looking. Snake’s would be resting furrowed and seem more intimidating.

-Don’t know much about Solidus and Liquid (for some reason the only interactions I see between them in fanart is either them being shipped together or Liquid about to violently assault the old fuck) but do you know that image of Spiderman getting dunked on by Venom??? Ok so I think that’s them 😭 As soon as Liquid knows there’s an even better clone out there he’d just have a fuckin’ temper tantrum like Muscle Man from Regular Show and make it his mission to dunk on that old man.

-I think Liquid would CONSTANTLY smell like fuckin’ sweat despite literally being shirtless 24/7

-If Liquid were in the modern day he’d smell like 72 gallons of axe body spray

-On nice occasions he would smell like 72 gallons of cologne 

-He’d be a gym bro for sure

-Carrying around protein shakes, talking about gains, and crying about how his stocks are plummeting 

-His hair is definitely a little greasy

-I honestly think he’d have trouble growing facial hair in comparison to the other clones

-I feel like he’s the kinda guy to sit in a corner of a dark room and stare at Otacon to scare the ever-loving shit out of him. 

-Also seems like the kind of guy to have trouble sleeping at night so he just roams like a FNAF animatronic. 

-Seems like the kind of guy to ask Otacon what he’s doing out of boredom and then immediately regret it and space out.

-Ok so I had a thought. I think instead of smoking like Snake and Big Boss do, I think Liquid would drink.

-Y’know the room you find Otacon in MGS1? Where you fight funny ninja robo man? Ok so I think Liquid specifically asked for Otacon to be put into there so that everytime he switches to the security cameras in that room he just laughs at his goofy ass.

-Seems like the type of guy to ask “can i put on your glasses?” and then proceed to act like he just got shot by a firing squad from how blind you are (he does this to Otacon for sure)

-I’d think that Liquid’s ego is so inflated that he’d lack bitchess due to the “I’m too good for them” mentality 

-Upon seeing Ocelot I’d like to think that Liquid would bitch-slap him.

-Seems like the kind of fella to enjoy a meal consisting of dinosaur chicken nuggets, crinkle-cut fries, and mac n’ cheese.

Alright that’s enough headcanons goo-bye.

#mgs fanart #metal gear solid #mgs #liquid snake #liquid mgs #eli mgs #mgs1 #mgs2 #mgs2 sons of liberty #otacon #hal emmerich #otacon mgs #solid snake #snake mgs

[multifandomimagin3s]

The Mercenary

A/N: So I received a lot of requests for a fic based on my Mercenary!Reader headcanons post, it's a bit short and sweet but I hope you guys like it ~

Warnings: Violence and strong language - am I making the reader basically a female deadpool? probably.

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Price struggled to contain his anger as he peered at the screen in front of him, seeing Laswell was in a similar state herself. General Shepard continued, undeterred by their visible annoyance;

"I have hired someone who I know will help to get the job done," He drawled," They're efficient and while they may come from a questionable background, I can't afford for any more failures, Captain."

Price could feel his blood begin to boil - it was practically a direct insult to him, and to his taskforce. Since when did his team need any help to get a job done, and done right? It was practically a slap in the face.

"Sir, I understand your concerns - but is contracting a mercenary really the best solution for this?" Laswell interjected, " The last mission gave us valuable intel, we have leads on a few of Hassan's associates, I don't understand why we need to hire them when 141 have shown that they're more than capable of handling things as a unit."

"Granted that is true - but I'm not taking any chances here," Shepard gruffly retorted. For whatever reason, he really was dead set on contracting this Mercenary. Naturally, it made Price more than suspicious as to what his motives were.

"Captain," Price bit the inside of his cheek, as his eyes all but burned through the webcam at his Superior," The Mercenary will be touching down on base tomorrow, with an ETA of 12 hundred hours - see to it that they're debriefed on the mission before extraction."

----------------------------

"There's no picture here," Laswell flipped through the pages in the manilla file," Wait - there's one... but all the faces are blurred out..."

"Hm," Price folded his arms over his chest," Must mean that whoever Shepard hired must be considered dangerous enough to warrant that kind of secrecy..."

"There's 10 people in this photo - he could have hired any of them," Laswell separated the pages, spreading them across the table top," All we have is their callsign, not much else to go on..."

Price hummed. It wasn't unlike Shepard to only give out information he deemed "necessary" - whatever he chose to not disclose at the time usually came as a surprise after the fact, and typically it wasn't pleasant.

"I haven't seen this symbol before," Laswell turned the paper to face Price; there were two logos printed in stark black and white - one being the signature wolf emblem seen on KorTac operatives, and the other appearing to be some species of snake, gaping mouth open with sharp fangs prepared to strike.

"Serpentes," Price clicked his tongue," They're a subsidiary of KorTac, haven't seen any of their operatives in the field in nearly a decade."

"Why would Shepard hire from KorTac?" It was basically a rhetorical question and the both of them knew that. Shepard kept his cards close to his chest - his half-arsed excuse didn't sit well with either of them but the more they pushed the General, the further away they would get from finding out the actual truth.

"Haven't the foggiest," Price sighed, scratching his chin," But whoever he's hired, they better not be a fuckin' nutter."

-----------------------------------------------

You didn't expect to be 'best of buds' with the Task Force upon your first interaction with them - with everything you've heard about 141 from Shepard, and from your team-mates, you weren't anticipating the warmest of welcomes either. But it didn't put you off any - you'd been hired to work with them, so if you were to kill each other before you even got out onto the field, then what good would that be?

As soon as the hatch door of the helicopter opened, you were greeted by the sight of a bearded man dressed in the standard khaki army uniform - if you excluded the bucket hat on his head. You had to admit he was quite handsome - but you weren't so stupid as to let that drop your guard, especially when in a foreign area.

You swung your duffel bag over your shoulder, descending down the ramp towards him. His eyes flickered across the mask adorning your face, as if trying to burn through the material and see the face beneath. It was a natural response, you thought - even though you were dressed in what would equate to 'skivvys,' the fact he didn't know what you looked like and definitely didn't know your name was probably setting off alarm bells in his head.

"Captain Price," He grunted with a tight-lipped smile, holding his hand out for you to shake as if it pained him," And you must be the Mercenary."

"Yep," You replied, in a tone that was just a bit too chipper for his liking," Call me 'Copperhead."

"Like the snake? Very fitting."

"Yeah, well - we tried 'Black Mamba' and 'Australian Brown Snake' but the first sounded a like a sex toy, and the latter was too long."

Price almost choked on his own spit. It was kind of amusing to watch the man splutter to find the right words - if you were in his ranks you probably would have been scolded a bit for that, but you weren't.

"Right, well," He was quick to recompose himself but didn't meet your eyes," Follow me - the team are awaiting your arrival for a debrief on the mission."

-----------------------------------------

As soon as you stepped into the meeting room, three pairs of eyes locked onto you. You stuck out a bit like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest - the casual uniform for your regiment was a deep burgundy top, not unlike the military's, but paired with burgundy cargos with gold trims on the pockets.

"Boys, this is 'Copperhead," Price nodded to the group whilst keeping a slight distance between you both. You felt like rolling your eyes but restrained yourself - as if you'd kill him in his own territory when on payroll," Copperhead - Sergeant Gaz Garrick; Sergeant Soap MacTavish; Lieutenant Ghost."

Garrick and Soap seemed to practically lounge in their chairs, giving you a brief nod in recognition as their names were called. Their eyes were trained on you the entire time, showing that despite how relaxed they appeared, they absolutely hadn't let their guard down.

Ghost shifted slightly in his chair, dark eyes burning through the eyeholes of his mask. His posture was practically poker-straight, arms folded across his chest - he was clearly sizing you up.

"Copperhead? What's the craic there?" Soap enquired - he too had an unusual call sign, as he'd been told many times over the years.

"Hey, I got lucky - some poor fucker ended up with milk snake," You replied, dumping your duffel next to the door," Was a choice between Copperhead or Diamond Back for a while - both were a good fit but Copperhead stuck."

"Diamond back?" Gaz enquired with a confused expression.

"Because I have an amazing arse." Soap and Gaz snorted a laugh. Ghost, however, appeared to be unamused - well, it was hard to tell what he was actually feeling considering you couldn't see his face. But the gruff "fuckin' 'ell" told you what you needed to know. You smirked under your mask - he was going to be the most fun to wind up.

"Alright - enough of the pleasantries," Price interjected, coming to stand at the end of the room," Let's get to what we're all here for - the mission."

-----------------------------------------------

"So, the uniform," Soap enquired, leaning back slightly in his chair as he gestured to your clothing," Is that to go with the name or is that just standard issue for you lot?"

It was quite strange as to how quickly he started to try and make idle chat with you - while his comrade Gaz seemed to similarly be relatively relaxed in your presence, he still aired on the side of caution.

"Bit of both," You shrugged," Different uniforms for different missions - the red and gold is pretty much standard, goes with that old saying that people use to identify potentially dangerous snakes."

He looked at you perplexed. Ghost's deep voice piped up, and you noted how he rolled his eyes - whether that was directed at you or his comrades, you weren't entirely certain: "Red touches yellow - kill a fellow."

"Makes sense, you know," You half-hazardly gestured to the snake emblem plastered to your outer bicep," It;s kind of poetic, right? Although, it does also kind of give McDonalds vibes - good thing the tactical suits are less ugly."

"You're out on the field to kill - it's not a bloody fashion show," Came Ghost's blunt reply.

You smiled widely, eyes crinkling at the corners," Just 'cause I'm splattering people's brains across the wall doesn't mean I can't look sexy doing it - and trust me, I do."

"I couldn't give less of a fuck if you looked like Margot fuckin' Robbie under that mask," You could tell his blood pressure was rising by the second and it made you want to kick your feet in glee," You're a Mercenary and quite frankly it doesn't matter how good you are, if you get in the way or try and betray us, I'll take you out myself."

There was a beat of silence. Now, any other soldier would have probably curl up into a ball after having been gutted out by the Lieutenant - any normal person would have practically pissed themselves at the sheer sight of him. Soap and Gaz's eyes flitted between their comrade and you, as if torn between being engrossed in the dynamic between you both and preparing for Ghost to actually strangle you.

"Wow - have only known you for five minutes and you're already talking dirty to me," You cooed in a slightly mocking tone," You work fast, Ghost."

"Shut the fuck up, you tit -"

"When you said you'd take me out - did you mean with a sniper or like on a date? Because hey, we can see how the mission goes, I'm game for either -"

"I swear to fucking god-!!"

"Mission debrief is over!" Price boomed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb," Soap - take Copperhead to their room, and all of you get the fuck out of here, now."

The room fell into complete silence, as Soap got up to escort you off to wherever on the base they'd decided would be fit for you. You sent a wink to Ghost's agitated form, chuckling as you picked up your duffel," Look forward to working with you, Dream Team."

Soap shook his head, fighting the smile about to crawl onto his face. He could feel the eyes of both his superiors burning into the back of his skull. He was no fool, and he knew that despite how jovial you seemed, you were a trained killer. So he wouldn't be letting you get too close to him.

Gaz left shortly after you and Soap made your swift departure. Ghost stared at the door, as if trying to shoot lasers through it and down the corridor to where you were.

"Lieutenant - a word?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to keep a close eye on that one," Price spoke lowly, as if you could hear through walls.

Ghost gritted his teeth at the prospect of having to work alongside you. As far as he was concerned, you were a massive pain in the arse and the fact that you couldn't be trusted just gave him all the more reason to dislike you.

"I've already read through their file - not much information, Laswell's working on it, but what's there is more than enough to make you watch your six."

"Affirmative, sir."

"As you know, pick-up is at 0600 tomorrow - until we know more about the Mercenary, we can't take any chances," Price shook his head in thought," God knows why Shepard hired them... if they're as dangerous as their file says, then we have our work cut out for us."

Thank you guys for reading! ~

#simon riley #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #call of duty #multifandomimagin3s

[fairymousse]

Gloam Eyed Queen in Shadow of the Erdtree

tl;dr - my guess is that this woman is the Gloam-Eyed Queen, and she will be an important factor within the game

We see her along side the dude from the end of the trailer, the one who’s been torn apart by the big sword thing, so she is meant to be important. The question arises… who is she?

The Gloam Eyed Queen. Like I can’t think of anyone else who it could be

We know that GEQ was an empyrean, and as we can see, all known empyreans have some form of eye trauma, at least as far as we know. And conveniently, the woman in the images eyes are obscured by a veil, but we can see that they are faintly stained. Like Frenzy ending Melina.

Now, as Garrulous Goldmask put forward in his GEQ video, it is not impossible that GEQ is more a title than a single person, so Melina becomes the new GEQ, and this may be the old one. This is further aligned by this woman being likely pregnant, while the Godskin Swaddling Cloth item description reads:

The Gloam-Eyed Queen cradles newborn apostles swaddled in this cloth. Soon they will grow to become the death of the gods.

I understand that this isn’t much to go off of, but there are a few more things to consider.

So the man in gold, (I'll call him spiky for now), is stuck in a pretty nasty injury, with the weapon stuck in him matching the candelabra used by the omen type enemies on the bottom left. Now, other people have pointed out how it appears very similar to the Candletree Wooden Shield, which talks about cardinal sin, which in game we know as burning the Erdtree, an act that requires the Rune of Death to achieve.

At this point, I'd like to highly recommend SmoughTown's video on the Gloam Eyed Queen, which has given me a lot of info to work with. Within, he mentions how it is possible that the Godskins could be responsible for the first burning of the Erdtree, which aligns with the prophesy of Cardinal Sin. As well as this, he also mentions potential connections between the Godskin Apostles, and Volcano Manor, with a Noble guarding the Temple of Eighlay. And who else is associate with snakes in the DLC? Messmer.

Of course, I could be wrong about this, and I'd love more input on it, so feel free to let me know your theories if you'd like.

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #gloam eyed queen

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 30

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Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: Separation anxiety. Word count: 2.3K This chapter contains: canon-typical violence

==

In the bedroom where Daryl kept his weapons, he sat next to the window with you in his lap. He hadn’t even asked, just grabbed your hand, and you had followed him in here. Daryl didn’t mind having other people around, but after today, he needed a moment of quiet, just with you.

“Do you want to talk about it?’ you asked.

He shook his head, and held you tight, and buried his nose crook of your shoulder. Those kids had looked almost inhuman, but he could still remember the little boy who acted like a snake and Mrs. Miller’s weary sighs as she apologized to Daryl for her rambunctious kids.

He couldn’t bear to think of it any more, so he just held you. You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and kissing his temple. Part of him itched to get out and do something. Find more food, check on his tenants, go looking for Merle. But another part of him--the bigger part--just wanted you all to himself, to sit in the quiet and hold you. 

Long minutes passed, and he sighed. “Ya did good today,” he whispered. “With the daisies and whatcha said. Was real nice.”

“It wasn’t much, but I wanted to do something.”

“Mmm,” he replied, resting his forehead against you. “‘M glad I gotcha here.”

“That’s good because you’re kind of stuck with me, Dixon.”

He pulled away, just enough to see your face. “‘S gonna be alrigh’. May not be what we wanted, but we’ll be okay. Promise I’ll take care of ya.”

Your eyes softened. “I know you will. And I’m going to take care of you, too, if I can.”

“Jus’ bein’ wit’ ya ‘s all I need.”

“I think I can manage that,” you said, and kissed him. 

Daryl returned your kiss, getting lost in the feel of you cradled in his lap. Whatever might happen outside, he always had you to come back to, to love and comfort, and get the same in return.

“DARYL!” Rick shouted from the hallway.

You startled in his arms, but quickly got off his lap, then clung to the back of his shirt as he opened the bedroom door.

Rick was loading his revolver. “Bunch of ‘em out there, five or six. And so’s your brother tryin’ to fight ‘em off with a motorcycle helmet.”

Daryl grabbed his crossbow, and before he could speak, Rick said, “You stay in here, Bubbie. Get in your nest and wait for us to come in, alright?”

“Please be careful” you begged, and with that they were gone. 

*

Rick hadn’t used his bark on you this time, but you would follow at least part of his directions by staying upstairs. However, you went quickly to one of the windows that faced the parking lot. Below, you watched as the other members of your pack fought off the group of the dead. Heart in your throat, you pressed your hand and face to the glass. Ro moved like a cat and Merle like a rabid bear. Your alphas were even more fearsome, as they barreled into the dead, tossing them to the ground, kicking in their skulls or firing the crossbow into their head.

In a matter of minutes it was over, and they all rushed back inside.

In the kitchen, Ro appeared first, and then Merle. You couldn't help yourself as you went to Merle and wrapped your arms around him. Finally your whole pack was safe, and, except for Carl, all under one roof.

Merle was out of breath, but he hugged you back, his arms tight around you. This lasted a second, maybe less before he was pulling away and laughing like a hyena.

“Ya’ll actin’ like ya thought I was dead. I had ‘em geeks under control. Jus’ needed a few more minutes.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Ro said, his voice low and tense. He swung his fist at Merle, but the older man dodged it easily and instead grabbed Ro by the neck and pulled him close.

“Yer the idiot if ya thought I wouldn’t make it here.”

Ro began arguing, but you missed it entirely as Daryl grabbed you and held you against him. Rick was there, too, behind you and joining your hug. They were both trembling and tense.

“It’s okay,” you told them. “We’re all okay.”

They both huffed and dragged you from the fight between the betas and took you to your nest.

You tried to soothe them both, but their anxiety had wormed its way through you, and now you trembled as they started stripping off their clothes and yours. Daryl paid no heed to keeping covered, but the room was dark, still, since neither one of them had switched on the light.

“Fuck, I need you Bunny.” Rick whispered, nuzzling your shoulder. “Just need to feel you and keep you close.

“Whatever you both need. Take it.”

On your other side, Daryl turned your head toward him. “Jus’ lay down with us a spell, alrigh’?”

“Okay,” you whispered in the darkness.

Two sets of hands put you under the covers, and then they laid down on either side of you, pressing into you and nuzzling your neck. Scenting you, their musk filled the room, and you let them wrap around you like a safe cocoon. The warmth of their bodies seeped into yours, and the rough skin of their hands ran over your skin, touching you almost everywhere. Their breaths huffed in your ears, as they calmed down. Rick’s nose was nuzzling your neck gland, while Daryl wrapped himself around you and kissed your shoulder. 

You didn’t know how long you lay there with them, a mass of cuddling bodies, but much too soon, Daryl slipped away from you. You wanted him with you again, his kisses and caresses. Likewise you wanted more from Rick, like his commanding voice and forceful body. 

A sharp, physical longing swept through you—almost as strong as a heat spike—and your mates reacted. Daryl growled and sank back down on the bed. Yet he didn’t lay down like you wanted, forcing a whimper from your lips.

“I can’t, Bubbie, not right now. We gotta keep watch in case any more of ‘em show up.”

You choked down a desperate, primal whine and only just managed to say, “Okay, alpha.”

Rick held you tighter, and said to Daryl, “I’ll take care of ‘em and then we can switch.”

In the darkness, Daryl cupped your jaw and kissed you.  “Rick’s gonna stay with ya all night. Don’ worry.”

Selfishly, that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted both your alphas.

“He needs his rest,” Daryl explained, and slipped away, his voice carrying to the door. 

“Daryl,” Rick warned.

“Ya got business in the mornin’.” Daryl left the room so quietly that you almost missed it, but his scent faded, and you knew he was gone.

“Oh,” you said, realizing. “You want to get Carl.” Speaking it aloud forced you to acknowledge how much you wanted the boy here. Lori and Shane could be here, too. Maybe stay at Rick’s apartment. Just so your whole pack was together.

Rick smoothed your brow. “If you don’t want me going, I’ll stay. I’m sure he’s fine, I just--”

You held a finger to his lips. “I don’t want you going because we don’t know what’s out there. But I want Carl here, Rick. He’s on my mind all the time, and I can’t stop feeling like I should make sure he’s okay. I know he’s not mine,” you rambled, “But he’s yours and I feel like he’s a part of me, somehow.”

Rick kissed your finger, still pressed to his lips, then took your hand. “I promise I’ll be back. But--” he sighed and pulled you to his chest. “I hate to leave you.”

Another needful pang swept through you. “Alpha,” you begged.

“Shh,” Rick soothed you, urging you onto your back, so he could help ease the ache inside you.

*

The next evening was like the one before: only now Rick and Ro were gone. You watched again, from your perch by the front-facing window, as Daryl and Merle took down the handful of the dead that had wandered in as the sun set. One of them grabbed Merle by his leather vest, but Daryl was quick with his knife, and soon they were back upstairs again, squabbling.

Would this happen every day? Why hadn’t anything gotten back to normal? The internet, cable, and cell phone service had all gone out. Daryl and the others had started putting bodies in an empty apartment. The dead were all strangers, and there was no way to say goodbye to them properly like you had the Millers.

Daryl was washing himself off in the kitchen sink when your world went dark. You froze in place, scared and in shock, although you should have expected this, right? If the virus had made the world go dark figuratively, then literal darkness was sure to follow.

“Bubbie,” Daryl said, his rough voice calm. “It’s alrigh’ we’ll get some candles goin’.”

You nodded, unable to speak, but somehow Daryl found you in the pitch-black kitchen, then a tiny orange light appeared in front of Merle’s face.

“Where’s the lanterns?” he asked.

You heard a jangle of keys, and Daryl told Merle he could find the lanterns in the weapons room.

Daryl kept his arm around you until Merle came back, carrying a Coleman lantern. You relaxed, a little, since the small lantern was bright and lit up most of the room. Slipping away, Daryl tried to let go of you, but you grabbed his hand and urged him to stay close. 

Merle sighed. “Peanut, you best calm yerself down. We can’t see nothin’ so neither can them walkers.”. 

You said, “They’re still not back. Rick promised.”

Merle scoffed. “Jesus’ll be back if he knows what’s good fer ‘im.”

The three of you huddled around the lantern as Merle carried it to the living room. Daryl settled you on the couch, tucking you against his side and putting a knitted blanket around you.

“If ya hadn’t been such an ass yesterday, he’d still be ‘ere,” Daryl grumbled. 

“He likes my ass jus’ fine, brother. I can tell ya that.”

A tiny chuckle escaped you, but then you thought of Ro and Rick out there, in the deepening night, with no way to know if they were okay. You put your head on Daryl’s shoulder, keeping close. Warmth from his body enveloped yours; he was strong and steady, and you needed him next to you until Rick got back. 

Merle kept talking, his mouth rambling on while neither you nor Daryl said anything. The more he went on, the more you were lost to your own worries. What if you never saw Rick again, or Carl? An emptiness ached in your chest, and wordlessly, Daryl picked you up and carried you to your nest. There you could smell your absent mate, and your omega calmed some, but you still thought of the walkers you’d seen, and imagined them tearing into Rick and taking him from you forever.

“‘Mega,’ Daryl said, grabbing your shoulders and squeezing them. “Ya know he’s strong ‘nough to come home, doncha? Prob’ly jus’ stayin’ with his pup an’ waitin’ for mornin’.”

You leaned into Daryl’s chest, nodding your head, and holding back sobs. Daryl soothed you, running his hand up and down your back.

“Yer bein’ real strong. Doin’ so good right now,” he whispered, and you treasured the praise he doled out on you. “Tha’s my good Bubbie.”

*

Later, when you’d finally gone to sleep, Daryl sat with Merle downstairs, smoking and looking out the windows. He’d made sure you were covered in blankets; with the power out, the central heating didn’t work anymore. Continuously looking outside, he stayed alert for any sign of movement, hoping he could spot danger if it got too close.

More of them things wandered in every evening, it seemed, and he itched to get away. The woods would be safer than this. Least there’d be no people to worry about, dead or otherwise.

“‘S’like end of the world out there, baby brother,” Merle said, six shots deep into a bottle of whiskey. “If places ain’t overrun by walkers, they’re overrun by people jus’ as like to shoot ya as look at ya.”

Merle poured another shot. “Not as bad out ‘ere though, but I didn’ take the time to look aroun’ much. When that partner o’ yers gets back we oughta get out there and get what we can. Guns ‘n’ shit. Food. An’ get the hell outta here before it gets worse.”

Before he met you, Daryl would’ve done whatever Merle said. Even now, his instincts told him to leave. But this was home now, this whole damn place. He’d built the insides with his own two hands. He’d claimed you in the nest he made just for you. You came home to him here, every day after classes, cooked him dinner and talked his ear off.

Could he really take you away from all this? You needed a place to nest, a place that was cozy, warm, safe. A place that had his and Rick’s scents embedded in it.

If Rick didn’t get back soon, he might have to. No way just him and Merle could keep watch day in and day out. Merle might think so, but Daryl knew better. He needed Rick just as much as you did, but in a different way. It was like having another self, almost, like he didn’t have to think to fight with Rick. Just moving on instinct and innate trust.

So Rick not being here--it was like part of him was missing, and he needed it back.

==

Next chapter.

==

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[esper-union-lounge]

Dislyte's Character Design Director, Ono Dizi: To Design a Well Recieved Character (2.2/3)

Original post:

A continuation of the character design process. Last time, we left off on the second step: How to build a character. Due to the length of the post, I had to cut the last step :Characterisation, out.

So, this part won't be a long read. There are more pictures in this one, due to the pic limit, I will be adding ones that are necessary for the text.

Part 2.1 here

((Note: I am not a professional translator.I will localise the essay a bit more in the future. ))

Characterisation

Secondary traits

Realistic reference

Secondary Traits- Traits to be seen in character’s behaviour.

In character writing, there are two types of traits, Primary trait and Secondary trait.

The general rule of law is: If a character’s Primary Trait (Prim.) is positive, the Secondary Trait (Sec.) must be the opposite. Vice versa. In the context of in-game characters, it boils down to maintaining the ratio between Prim. and Sec.

7:3 is the golden ratio; numbers can be scaled up or down depending on the character. It is best to keep the ratio imbalanced. This is to prevent the characterisation getting muddled and unclear.

This ‘Ratio Method’ has always been a tactic for writers like Marvel, in their characters. A few example of their writing model includes:

Iron Man = “Technological Genius” (Prim.) + “A Play Boy” (Sec.) Personality Ratio: 6 (Prim.) : 4 (Sec.)

Dr Strange= “Highly Skilled Super PhD.” (Prim.) + “Prideful & Sharp tongued”(Sec.) Personality Ratio: 7(Prim.) : 3 (Sec.)

Ancient One= “Humble & Courteous” (Prim.) + “Dark Powers” (Sec.) Personality Ratio: 8 (Prim.) : 2 (Sec.)

Thanos= “Merciless & Lusting for power” (Prim.) + “Undying Fatherly Love” (Sec.) Personality Ratio: 9 (Prim.) + 1 (Sec.)

Examples from Dislyte:

In Dislyte, the character Melanie is blessed by Medusa. According to Medusa’s myth, her appearance was of a monstrous female with a head full of snakes. Anyone who looks into her eyes will be petrified into stone.

In her myth, Medusa was beheaded by Perseus with the help of Athena and Hermes. Medusa’s head was served to Athena, and was inlaid onto her shield since.

Considering Melanie’s character, *I thought about Medusa’s life story. The moment it was turned upside down when she, a young gentle maiden, was turned into an strange, and an *omen of a monster.

Taking that exact moment of Medusa’s life; having her life changed so drastically, we have a character who retains a young maiden’s innocence, while also having mental breakdowns.

Thus, taking such mental state/ characterisation, and reflect it in Melanie’s character.

There are a lot of Espers who uses this ‘Ratio method’.

Triki’s design was set to be a Gambler (Prim.) as the Core Feeling in his brief. Yet, in his Expression sheet, we did not focus on his Prim., but focusing on the “Influential Street Hipster” as his Sec.

“Flamboyant Gambler” + “Street Hipster”= Triki (Loki)

Triki’s Personality Ratio: 9:1

Lin Xiao, her Core Feeling is: “Chinese martial boxer who, is also a reinforcer of justice.”

Whenever Lin Xiao performs Chinese boxing, she becomes highly focus on her craft. Being absolute and intricate in her form and movements, it clashes with her impatience and brashness in everyday life.

“Strong & Reliable martial artist” + “Impatient & Brash” = Lin Xiao (White Tiger)

Lin Xiao’s Personality Ratio: 6:4

Ashley, according to Norse mythology, Heimdall is the guardian of the Rainbow Bridge. Legend says he has golden teeth, and pure white skin. Hence, he is dubbed as the ‘White Aesir’; with keen senses.

For Ashley’s Sec., we decided to give her a more feminine touch, and a girlish heart. In contrast to her Prim, which is her cold and stern exterior, and unwavering sense of justice.

“Strict & Aloof” + “Gently girlish” = Ashley (Heimdall)

Ashley’s Personality Ratio: 8:2

And, many more…

Realistic Reference- Making solid characters

To writing a believable character, we must have extensive knowledge of the character’s background.

Character lore alone is not enough to solidify our characters. The believability lies within references from the real world. From, works of art, or in real life people.

An approach we took was to collect inspiration and references based on the characters’ drawn design, and look into the reference’s history and background. Be it from literature, movies, animation, or liberal studies, these sources reflects humanity and its raw sets of personalities.

An example:

Prim: Strong and tough, scary looking fellow.

Sec: Cute. Into cooking and nutrition.

For the character, Djoser, we referenced from Ma Dong-Seok.

According to Ancient Egyptian mythology, Atum was originally the sun god in the Heliopolis cult. In later times, when the worship of Ra became prominent, it subsequently replaced Atum’s original role, even merging the two gods to create a new god, Amun-Ra.

In Dislyte, the characters, Narmer and Djoser are in different syndicate camps. The Core Feeling for Narmer was along the lines of, “A young and refined Godfather.” While the latter is more aligned in the direction of Latin American Narcos.

We gave Djoser the characterisation of Ma Dong-Seok, scary-looking yet, delicate, because we don’t want to solely focus on the anger and resentment aspect of Atum’s lore. But, to show an optimistic side of the character as well.

Thus offering a contrast between Ra and Atum in the game.

Narmer’s character image.

Djoser’s character image.

We can propose samples of characterisation, and discuss them with our Copy Writers to see which real-life references are the closest to the proposed sample. Be it by matching life-experiences, or similar relationships.

It is important to note, for a game that has many characters, not all of them needs to have a detailed and complex characterisation. The level of depth is determined by resources, character rarity, and the role they play. Sometimes, less is more.

All and all, when designing a character:

Step 1.) Establish the Core Feeling for the character based on the setting.

Step 2.) Design the character; convey who, where, and what

Step 3.) Characterisation. Design a Secondary Trait and take reference from real life sources.

Step 4.) Through basic drawing skills and design experience, mass experimenting and producing character image until the design is satisfactory.

(To be continued…)

_____________________________________________

Translator’s note:

“I thought about Medusa’s life…” : Ono Dizi is responsible for designing Melanie.

“Omen” : The original word in the text means to describe something along the lines of ‘a bad mark/ symbol’. But, for lack of a better word, I used “omen” to suggest that the image of Medusa is a bad sign.

This part of the essay has to be the most I have did research into. There are a number of terms that I need to google them up to see what they are.

The concept of Primary and Secondary traits are hard to translate too. The original essay wasn’t very clear in explaining the concept. It took me a while to figure it out, and then interpret it into English. If anyone doesn’t understand, feel free to ask.

-Esper Union Lounge

#esper union lounge #dislyte #review report #translation #I worked so hard on this #y’all better nice

[linashirou]

Ok, as the poll was positive about it, I'll share MY HEADCANONS and MY LORE about Hal...

1.- Hal have a slightly Marfan syndrome. (He described himself in my one shot "look at me~!♥" )

"All my life I've been skinny. I've always had a rather delicate appearance than masculine. I'm not a man with a tanned, toned body like Snake, for example.

I'm rather flabby and my chest is slightly sunken due to my mild Marfan syndrome: flat and long feet, a slight scoliosis that luckily didn't worsen with the use of the PC since my early age, hands with long fingers, and vision problems. I was lucky that this wasn't so noticeable, and that I didn't have any problems with my internal organs, but it could have been much worse with my father's "genetic background".

Now that I'm 37, I consider this nothing compared to what could have really happened to me... I consider myself a completely healthy person" 2.- Older = Calmer. He has an obsessive compulsive disorder with tidiness. As we could clearly see in the Nomad in MGS4, his neat and clean desk, at his 30, he started to acquire a taste for order and doesn't feel at peace in an environment with a lot of chaos. He likes to read and being at home: "I'm rather... boring" 3.- Hard-worker. This is no secret if we think about how many "In-game hours" Hal is supporting Snake, but in "TEC" (Hal's fanfiction) He is quite careful when it comes to work: as a boss, he is an attentive and understanding boss, however he is quite easy to get on his nerves. He usually works a lot from home, programming; A short period in the evenings, but the main work is always done early in the mornings: this way he ensures a free afternoon to share with Snake/Sunny (and Lina♥). 4.- Mental gaps. Sometimes, due to the amount of information accumulated in his mind (and as a good otaku, with a lot of "Random" knowledge) Hal has lapses where he simply "crashes" or gives the impression of suffering "mental lags". But the truth is that he also has a lot of memories blocked in his mind, especially as a child, due to traumas. As a result, it is important to recognize... 5.- He knows (all) the truth about Huey. What things he did in DD and all the events that happened in MGSV (Confirmed by Chris in an old interview) (I don't want to go so deep in this point, because I have a complete chapter about this in Hal's Fanfic) But there is something, punctually, that Hal never knew: Where were the remains of his beloved mother?

6.- He have a sweet tooth. Do I need to explain?: * Sweet personality, like candies, snacks and sweet pastry= Good and Sweet boyfriend, father, and friend♥ 7.- He is nearsighted (Myopic). As I explained in another post, in MGS4 he showed that he could see most of the things around him without the glasses, but when Snake asked him when and where Naomi left, he replied "I don't know, I didn't see her. I was without my glasses."

8.- A concerned Father. Hal will always, always have Sunny first in his mind. He will always be concerned with trying to give Sunny all the tools at his disposal to ensure her well being and will always try to give her everything he didn't have in his childhood. (This includes thinking of Lina as a possible mother figure for Sunny, due to the absence of a mother figure in his own life (?)) (Although it is a sort of justification/self-conviction at a certain point).

9.- He's Gemini. He's birthday is a few more days than Lina's. And they do party together. 10.- He likes red-haired women... Just like Snake... (Or maybe is his way to share a taste with him... who knows...) (at least He said to Lina that he likes her more with red hair)

11.- He had some problems with an anckle

After twisting his left ankle in Shadow Moses and neglecting the sprain by moving around the base helping Snake, Hal was left with a sore ankle, adding to the awkwardness of his "naturally" stiff movements. Now in his 30's, he's sometimes just like grandpas, feeling a bit of discomfort with the cold weather; "Ah! it's going to rain… my ankle tells me so…"

12.- Common grounds with Lina: Common interests with Lina are: Anime (particularly Macross, works by Go Nagai, Sailor Moon), video games (fighting games and survival horror), and music from the 80s and 90s (specially Lina's favorite band, Jamiroquai).

And the last one... it's a little NSFW

13.- Softy but Pervy. Hal's personality quite mellow and needy for affection: As a complete inexperienced in his sentimental side, he is always looking for ways to get the attention of his loved ones, being quite demanding of his partner's attention. And although at times he can be a huge stalker (staring at erogenous zones, fantasizing, being a consumer of some "adult content" particularly Hentai) his fetishes have NO BDSM connotations (it is quite difficult for him to be a little rougher with Lina; for example, he can hardly " spank" or "pull her hair" Because of his own experience as an abused person in his youth.). He is rather soft, tender and affectionate, but he does have a certain fixation to latex, derived from his taste for Super Sentai series.

#otacon #hal emmerich #writer thoughts #headcanon #mgs fanfic #theemmerichscurse #the emmerich's curse #the sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #HaLina

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hi luna! i was the anon you matched with james potter thank you so much i lovedd it 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could do another one but golden era? you totally don’t have to but if u do take ur time :) 

i’m female she/they and i am bi

i’m black i have dark brown eyes and long lower-back length braids. i have a long head but really high cheekbones. i’m 5’3” (160 centimeter). i have a small frame and a larger chest. i loveee to dress super girly (almost cottagecore or coquette) but i often time time find myself looking and acting a bit masculine

INFP(MBTI) and 9w1(Enneagram)

quiet, reserved , very private and don’t like to open up to people until i know them VERY well, sensitive, emotional, empathetic, self-effacing, good at giving advice, listener, my friends are very loud because i am so quiet(ying/yang), daydreamer

i LOVE photography, i love fashion and bows, i love gold and pearled jewelry, i love cherries and any kind of pasta, billie eilish, singing, science, online shopping, stuffed animals, baking

i hate hypocrisy, i hate food waste, i don’t like confrontation or arguing, i don’t liek tomatoes, i don’t like waiting(impatient), learning history, the sun/bright lights bc i’m practically a vampire

i have a really messed up family and i’m terrified of losing relationships or people i love even though i feel like i am 24/7(attachment issues) 🙂❤️‍🩹 i also love fighting hunger and food waste

sry that was a lot

Okay, I want to stick with the opposites attract motif I chose for you initially; with James, it was opposite personalities but the same morals. With this character, I have the same personality but opposite morals. Don't worry. You can soften this cold snake up and show him the light. ~~~~~ MATCHUPS ~~~~~

HARRY POTTER ( Golden Era)

Blaise Zabini

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

Blaise was a cold man, a frigid man indeed. He rarely talked to his own friends, let alone outsiders. Something about you, though, was different.

You were like a combination of all the good things in the world, and someone as dark as him, cursed to assist his family in heinous acts, didn't see it fair to taint your innocence at all.

Yet you appeared in his mind constantly. After meeting you, he began to look at life through a new lens. He saw color and light in his dreary life.

Blaise didn't know why, but he sought out your friendship; at first, it was simple to help with studying, eat together, then Hogsmeade trips.

Blaise also experienced your rough side the one time Draco decided to call out your growing relationship. Before Blaise could say anything, you had already knocked Draco down a few pegs, literally and metaphorically.

One time, Draco took everyone to a posh clothing store, and all he could be drawn to were the bows and dresses he knew you would look good in.

It took him forever to confess, and it extended into the fourth year when it clicked that he couldn't stand others flirting with you. He blew a fuse in the Slytherin common room when he heard Ron was taking you to the Yule Ball, even if it was just as friends.

When you two finally started dating, it was clear that you were like the warm sun, and he was like the cold moon.

Blaise never pushed you to open up fast. He wanted to take things slow and let you know him for who he is, not what his family is.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

This year, it was a cold winter at Hogwarts; a blizzard had overtaken the area and caused a fresh, pure white blanket to coat the castle grounds. Blaise felt at peace in the cold, like nothing could hurt him here, a perfect normal. For you, though, the cold was delicate, nothing too horrible; however, the real issue was picking an outfit that would work with the cold weather. Though most of Hogwarts was tucked up indoors, wrapped in blankets or playing games by the fire, most still sought to use their weekend to go to Hogsmeade. Settling on an outfit with thick stockings and tights, you went to the meeting place.

As you approached, you saw Blaise staring into space, deep in thought. It wasn't uncommon for you and him to be the first of his friends to show up at the meeting point, giving you two time to talk without Draco's nagging. Once by his side, Blaise pulled from his thoughts, turning to you and extending a smile. He only ever smiled when it was the two of you; he was always stoic any other time. "Hello, princess, how are you today?" You smiled back, extending your gloved hand to him. "I am fine though you look like you have seen better days, everything alright?"

Blaise nodded, pulling you closer to him, "I'm better now that you are here. The others should be joining soon." You nodded as well, enjoying the peaceful silence once again. The silence was soon interrupted by the loudness of the other four coming to join the trip to Hogsmeade. Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco were on a rant about the Gryffindor trio. Rolling your eyes, trying to avoid another round of conflict with Draco, you turned to Blaise, "Promise me the minute we can evade them, we will." The only response you got from Blaise was a hearty laugh, surprising you and the others there. Who knew his laugh would be the exact opposite of his cold exterior.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(NEWTs had begun, and everyone was deep into studying, leaving the whole year exhausted day in and day out. Blaise was no exception. He lay there passed out on the Slytherin couch, you sitting on the floor below him reading, making sure no one woke him.)

Y/N: (humming a gentle tune)

Crabbe: Y/N GUESS- (a book went flying across the room before Crabbe retreated)

Goyle: (Has a slew of musical instruments following him) Guys, look what- ( A heeled boot went through the air )

Pansy: Y/N, the boys have all gone and complained to Draco you are hitting them...

Y/N: That's my problem because? They should learn to read a room.

Pansy: Yeah, but Draco can be-

Draco: Y/N THAT IS TO FAR JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE BLAISE PARTNER DOESN'T ME- (This time a black dress shoe was thrown square in his face)

Blaise: Can you guys please let a man sleep around here.

#harry potter #x reader #harry potter x reader #match up #headcanon #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #harry potter fanfiction #golden era hp

[michygranger23]

Hello there!! I bring to you some backstory about Goblin!Dream and Lizard!Ranboo since I think it's important to know well what happened to them to understand why they are like that in the present time hehe. ANYWAYS INTO THE RAMBLE!!

"Backstory of Goblin!Dream and Lizard!Ranboo"

Tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo met when they were kids, and were good friends until high-school. Ranboo became a part-time intern in the Alchemax laboratories working for Dream, a scientist who was researching about the medical properties of snake venom to cure different illnesses and types of cancer. They became an intern because they were interested in the research and wanted to help.

It was Ranboo who helped convince Dream to let their school have the tour of the facility in which Tubbo was bitten by the spider. Tubbo got a little jealous that Ranboo got the internship, but that quickly faded and he was happy one of his best friends was being successful.

Dream was a good scientist, his previous researches with snake venom helped a lot of people with their diseases, but he still wanted to get rid of the disease completely, to make the people feel healthier, stronger, quicker and smarter than they ever were, not just being bearable to live with. So he worked harder to achieve it. He was always an ambitious person, always risking everything in line to achieve and get what he wanted (sometimes not seeing the risks and consequences of his actions, or getting very obssessive of the things he wanted, getting himself or others in trouble for it)

Because of some not so good results he was getting, he was being threaten to be fired because of his lots of failures that was costing the company a lot of money to fund his works (he never did ilegal experiments btw, but every try he was doing was not working). He was getting desperate, he needed to get the cure to work or else his live's work would be for nothing. So he decided to be the test-subject this time (he wasn't extremly sick but because of him over-working himself he was getting rather weak, and he didn't have time to find a human subject, he wouldn't risk the live of another for his work, if he died, it was his own fault). He performed this secretly as to not let anyone see if he failed and fire him in the spot.

At first it did worked, he felt much better and more healthy than he was even before over-working himself, but then things started to go south.

A couple of days later he started to feel his skin itchy and with pain, he noticed some white scales coming out of his skin (he kept his body completely covered after this to not let other people see it). He then started to feel his snails going itchy as well, growing longer and faster than usual, they were feeling rather harder and sharper as well (when he tried to cut them, the nail clipper broke. He started to wear more frequently the medical gloves to hide them). This changes were starting to scare him, so he tried to work in improving the cure to reverse this changes.

Ranboo always asked him if he was feeling alright when they saw him acting strange or weird, Dream always said that everything was fine (but he didn't get to pay attention as how his own intern was planning to help him, and the way they found his investigation and formula in his desk when he missed to save it on day, because he didn't want to worry them and he needed to work in a solution for his....condition). Ranboo had been working with him for like almost 6 months by now (this time was before Spider-Man had appeared)

Later at 3 weeks he started to feel strange his teeth, he looked in the mirror and saw how they were getting larger, sharper, more white than usual, specially his canines, they were looking like...snake fangs. He realized he was turning into a type of snake hybrid, and feared what would happen with his mind if he didn't stopped this. Alongside the fangs he started to notice a few days later that his eyes could see very well in the dark (well.. technically see the heat of things, like a thermo vision) and when he looked at his eyes he noticed they look a lot like a snake, with the pupils being slit and more greener in the pupil color.

Soon enough as the time where Spider-Man appeared and started to get the attention of the news it's when Dream's mind started to become corrupted by the "cure" (technically he wasn't corrupted, more or less it was bringing a part of himself that was buried deep in him, like in the Tobey Mcguire movie, but he doesn't have two personalities just to be clear. But it did started to make him insane, he still was pretty smart, and that's what makes him dangerous)

He didn't like all of this news about this Spider-Man guy, what did he exactly do to gain so much fame and being loved by the public?? Saving civilians?? He always did that and his work never got the love it deserves! ! He just wanted to unite society, a happy family, but they weren't listening to him. Maybe this society needs a new.. a bit of chaos.. to make them understand. And so The Goblin was born (He chose The Goblin because naming himself like a snake or smth would sound weird lol). Dream kept his secret of him being the Goblin to everyone.

Some months forward to the appearance of Spider-Man and Goblin, Ranboo was working in the lab getting a new cure for Dream ready for him (he didn't exactly know what had happened to him, but they still guessed something went wrong with the formula, so they wanted to help), in this case he changed up the snake venom for some lizard DNA, to try and see if that would help him. But in that moment Spider-Man came through one of the walls and the Goblin started to shoot at him, this caused panic in the labs as everyone tried to leave, Ranboo quickly took the syruk and ran away, but because there was too many people pushing they fell off and the syrum broke, making them cut with a glass that had some of that cure.

Moving forward to some weeks they started to feel very tired lately, like they weren't sleeping at all in the night (around this time a new villain appeared in town called, The Lizard)

Basically Ranboo turns into the Lizard if they feel very strong emotions like anger or fear, but also excitement if you count that, they realized this and tried to keep this a secret to everyone, making them distant of Tubbo and Tommy in fear of hurting them (he's conscious about his actions in this state). But that doesn't explain the increase of tiredness..well...let's just say that the part that Ranboo wanted to help Dream became his enderwalk, and Ranboo in this state told one day to Dream about this (Dream was unmasking himself in an alleyway when he encountered the Lizard, which was strange he made sure to not being followed, Ranboo told Dream they knew about his secret and wanted to help him a achieve his goals Ranboo in his enderwalk state knows about Dream because since Ranboo used the same bases of the formula Dream did he recognizes the same aura)

AND THAT'S IT!! I know it's quite messy and maybe it doesn't make sense, sorry about that!! I actually had trouble coming up with a coherent back story but I still hope you like this mess!! Anyways let me know your thoughts and opinions about it :D!!

#ranboolive #ranboo #endersmile #dreamblr #dreblr #discduo Spider-Man AU #MichyAU #tommyinnit #tubbo

[invisibilicose]

Lord Voldemort and The White Thin Duke

I know probably no one cares about this, but since I was very young, I’ve always had this curiosity about the looks of the Dark Lord during the First Wizarding War. Especially, I was intrigued by his depiction in the Half Blood Prince when, already graduated from Hogwarts, he started working at Borgin and Burkes. It is written that he speaks with a soft voice, that he wears his hair longer than it had been at Hogwarts, that he is thin with hollowed cheeks and – shockingly – that he doesn’t wear wizard’s robes but a black suit.

This is all very interesting to me, since I have this weird obsession of looking for cues about his personality, even in these scarce descriptions about his appearance and of course I get mad because of how difficult it is. The fact that he wears his hair long could be both a sign of vanity or a way of communicating his lack of interest about his looks – leading to him being a handsome man anyways.  Of course, we know that he does not crave for being considered beautiful, since a few lines ahead we come to know that he altered his features forever, during his permanence in Albania:  

His features were not those Harry had seen emerge from the great stone cauldron almost two years ago: They were not as snake-like, the eyes were not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry knew they would become. He was wearing a long black cloak, and his face was as pale as the snow glistening on his shoulders.

-      Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Chapter 20.

Can’t blame a young emo girl like me for falling in love with this man 10 years ago. Now, of course, my love remains unchanged, and I still have hard feelings for not have seen young Lord Voldemrot on the big screen, when I was a teenager (will the up coming series remedy to this? We don’t know).

So, my mind has wandered for a long time, searching for someone – made of blood and bones – that could resemble the description of First Wizarding War Voldemort that we are left with.

Conscious of the fact that no one is going to share my opinion, I think I’ve found an original solution to the problem and I’m going to stick with this till death.

In fact, while my literary heart is reserved for Lord Voldemort, my musical taste brought me to The Think White Duke, David Bowie. I know, it sounds crazy, but I believe that this amazing – and very missed – genius shares a lot of physical traits with young Lord Voldemort, during this mysterious years in the books.

So, I want to share with you this interview, hoping deep down that you’ll find the same similarities that I found some time ago and that never cease to warm my heart.

First, his voice: he speaks softly but fast – and with a wonderful British accent that, of course, he shares with Londoner Tom Riddle. He is polite but also elusive. He keeps all the attention on him and his words in the exact same way I imagine young Voldemort would do.

Second, his appearance: he is thin, almost skeletal and has something feminine in him that I personally find devastatingly attractive. He has the hollow cheeks and the thin lips with a crooked smile that – my personal point of view here – he could share with our young Lord Voldemort. He has long thin hands with slim fingers.

Now, imagine him with black hair – with the same haircut – and reddened eyes and I think we have it.

Also, I wanted to post here this picture, because I’m confident that this is the best representation we’ll ever have of what the Dark Lord should’ve looked like in the movies (I know I’m a minority here on this topic, but I absolutely dislike how Ralph Fiennes managed to act him in the movies, so disappointing). 

Let me know what you think about this and please be kind with your words, since of course, this is a topic I care a lot about.

Yours,

Mathildis.  

#lord voldemort #lord voldemort fancast #the dark lord #david bowie #people will think i'm mad #but what is life without risk? #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #first wizarding war

[polyklok]

This one was so much more detailed and I don’t know why-

Pickles “The” Drummer, physique/appearance

Nathan

Skwisgarr

Toki

Murderface

He got his name legally changed to the dumbest thing possible-

His age was actually a debate in the fandom during the early days, but that dwindled down greatly once a video of him was taken, drunk as all hell, yelling “I’M TWENTY-FUCKING-NINE YEARS OF OLD AND GODDAMN PROUD OF IT!” to a bartender asking for age identification. He’s 31 now. (By now, I mean like…10ish years ago, when the show was out)

5’4, short guy. Especially when compared to his band members. During shows, he started to wear heeled boots that make him 5’8. Still wears normal shoes most days, though. And still gets shit from the other guys for it.

Only 120 lbs. He’s generally pretty scrawny, although his biceps are nicely toned from years of going ham on the drums. Also has a bit of a beer gut, just a little squishy.

FtM, has been on T for a while and has gotten top surgery done. More headcanons regarding his gender journey later!

Let’s talk about his hair for a while-

No one in his family knows why his hair is…that color. Like, they have the ginger gene on his mom’s side. His mom and brother both have nice, brownish-red hair. But he came out with a head full of neON ORANGE HAIR. 

It’s very thick and frizzy. When it is in it’s natural state, its a pretty much a lion’s mane. Many people thought he looked like that on purpose during his Snakes ‘N Barrels days to fit in with the ‘glam rock’ fashion. But actually, he started playing glam rock because his hair looks like that.

As for facial hair, he’s very proud of it. It took a long time to grow out properly, so he takes really good care when maintaining it. (Ignore the fact that it’s a different color in the pic. That was my mistake.)

Cannot say the same for his skin. It’s very dry and sort of…leathery? He spends lots of time outside with absolutely no sunscreen, so my man has been BAKED (in more than one way ;))

Also from this, he’s very tan and freckled. It’s cute.

He has a tiny little button nose. Sometimes, he even twitches it like a rabbit. Literally so precious.

His lips are dry and cracked from years and years of smoking various substances. He prays to gods of burt’s bees chapstick.

Also, canon to the show, but he has a very goofy, crooked smile!

Doesn’t take that good of care for his dreadlocks. He spent so much of his life fussing over his hair, he’s honestly sick of it. He only goes to get them redone when they start to seriously stink.

To contrast Skwisgaar; I will say, he has the fattest ass in the band. Murderface is a close second. That is all.

He loves his piercings. Got his ears done when he was a teenager to piss off his parents, did his eyebrows later on. It’s seriously his favorite thing about himself, physically speaking.

He has all sorts of clothes, many of which he altered himself. From his muscle-tees, baggy jeans, leather pants, crop-tops, even a few skirts. He sticks to the same basic getup, but will shock both bandmates and fans occasionally by bringing out some seriously fabulous outfits.

In universe, there are several online accounts completely dedicated to him wearing feminine clothing. He single-handily brought back cheetah-print leggings.

He’s very talented at eye makeup. Doesn’t do it so much nowadays, but still enjoys a little bit of glittery eyeshadow. As a treat.

Call me weird, but I think I’m gonna include a…smell headcanon in all of these. Whatever.

Usually, he’ll smell like alcohol and weed. Sometimes vomit or piss as well. It’s the truth, hun.

But let’s not fool ourselves; he has a collection of very old, very fruity perfumes that he sprays on himself occasionally when he doesn’t feel like showering. Which is often. So he smells like whiskey, piss, and “cherry kiss dream”

Conclusion; he’s one of the few people on Earth who could acceptably wear low-rise jeans. He deserves it.

#metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #dethklok #metalocaypse headcanon #polyklok is real #dethklok headcanon #metalocalypse pickles