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#I would kill those people for you anon
spearxwind · 1 year
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I've been thinking about how you've made Talas' physique even MORE powerful lately. And now I'm just imagining him, one-armed, chucking Graves like the world's angriest javelin at their common enemies.
That's genuinely so in character that I had to draw it. Average hunting tactic... and Graves would be all too excited for it, honestly
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randomnameless · 3 months
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Correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't FE15 state that although god's control is removed, there's still evil in mankind's heart that must be vanquished or something along those lines? It kinda makes the whole "humanity f*ck yeah" shtick feel hypocritical doesn't it?
Yep,
Because FE15 couldn't nuke FE2 from its DNA, by virtue of being a remake.
So we have two, contradictory messages in this game : Duma BaD and Gods BaD and must go because BaD and they "make humans do BaD things"...
and you have the "gods might be bad, but humans are still BaD without their influence" message at the end - when the entire game (and the timeline and supplementary materials!!) has been pushing the first message.
So...
In a sea of "Gods BaD" waters coming from the remake, you still have the lone "evil remains in the hearts of men" raft that is, somehow, pushed to the forefront in Part 6 where both Celica AND Alm call Thabes the result of human folly, and the player knowing that Grima - who was originally the RED CAPSLOCK eldritch monstruosity before FEH retcon'd them in a tits'n'ass character to uwu about by stealing Anankos' backstory - was "man-made".
And yet, given how the "last word" about FE15 - as in last material revealed - was the timeline in the Memorial Book, we close FE15's book by "and Duma was BaD".
I mean, look at all those mentions of Rudy being so brave and strong and uwusome -> Duma's degenaration is directly tied to how awesome Rudy needs to be in this calendar.
Rudy is so brave to stand in front of a degenerating Duma? -> Duma was insane!
Rudy is so thoughtful and sticks to his promise to Duma by sealing Mila -> akshually Duma wasn't completely insane because he told him to seal Mila and not to kill her even if I said the inverse 3 lines earlier...
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pocketramblr · 2 months
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Really dark topic, but what do you think would it take for Enji (pre-AM retirement, obviously) to threaten to, or legit kill Rei, mindcontrolling quirks aside?
mind-controlling quirks aside... i don't think he would threaten to kill her. he'd basically never have something to gain from killing her that he couldn't get some other far easier and less risky way. If she was able to prevent him from abusing Shoto, or threatened to take him/all the kids away, Enji could very much threaten divorce, institutionalization, maybe even arrest, but he can stop her from doing that without threatening to kill her.
If Enji were to kill her, which could happen, i don't think it'd be premeditated. But he has hit her before, and Rei isn't exactly going to do great with heat or flame, so if she intervened at the wrong time in the dojo... it's plausible enough i'd accept it as a fic premise.
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ignoring realistic necessities like food, care, space, and medical attention, what video game enemy would you want to have as a pet ?
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if i had to choose. it'd be one of these three.
#ask#anon#i just really like creature designs with sharp teeth and simple shapes i think.#thats kinda why i designed Budd the way i did. simple shape with sharp.... mouth things. and one brushstroke for the eyes.#and overall shaped like a potato. or sausage. whatever.#im not sure (off the top of my head) what other enemy i'd pick for a pet#theres a lot of enemy designs i love. like clefts from paper mario. but those are like. people.#clanker from banjo is also a good design but. not an enemy. cant be a pet.#not because of like his size but because i think itd be fucked up to have him as a pet. put that dude in the ocean#if you had him as a pet. simply you'd be sent up into the air by my wicked blow and buddy you wouldnt be coming back down#banjo saw clanker and thought ''man i should really kill that witch for real actually''#like its one thing to steal his sister. thats whatever. thats small peas.#putting a big fucking awesome dude in a space and chaining him to an anvil. that witch has to be put under a rock#also let's also kill L.O.G. for what he did to clanker in nuts&bolts#like it was fucked up what Grunty had him live through. but what L.O.G. did. lets kill him#now keeping a plush of clanker? thats okay :) a plush of clanker would fucking rule#blahaj but made of metal and flesh. awesone#sorry. i like clanker a lot as a dude. hes cool. not a pet though. or else.#anyway sorry i dont have more options to grab from.#its like if prof oak gave you an option between three bulbasuars. guess im picking bulbasohar. im not backspacing.#anyway thank you for the ask anon :) ik its hard for me to pick between chain chomp chain chomp and chain chomp#but you understand#whatever
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gentil-minou · 6 months
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People are perfectly fine to condemn genocide until they realize actually fighting it means sacrificing your own comfort then it becomes "actually 15,000 dead and 2 million displaced isn't that big of a number"
All this is doing is taking away from the main issue which is Palestinians dying and being driven from their land not "well this war monger is louder about his support for genocide than this war monger who hides his support genocide behind closed doors"
While you twiddle your thumbs and get mad at us for being furious and demand consequences for our leaders for supporting this, more people are dying. And yeah I care about that more and more
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chronosbled · 2 years
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Mister Dickson, how have you come to love a witch?
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☣ — “A witch?” The words that come forth ever so clearly lack the usual playful tone that his voice normally possesses, making it evident that — whether she was a witch or not — he didn’t appreciate the term in how the question was asked. ‘How have you come to love a witch?’ As if she wasn’t worth loving in the first place. As if, just because she wasn’t human, she wasn’t worth loving. As if she wasn’t lovable. That thought alone was more than enough to make the smile on his face fade, leaving nothing but a blank canvas for an expression. “Do you think she’s a witch? Do you think that, because she’s different, she isn’t worth the time nor the effort I put into her?” His voice soon turns cold as he speaks, taking a single step closer towards the stranger, until they were backed against a nearby wall. “I can assure you that she is worth it. Every. Single. Second. She has always been worth far more to me than most of these useless human females that want nothing more than someone’s money and reputation.” Yes, that’s right, because every other woman that he’d met only ever wanted him for one thing or another — his money, his looks, his family name, his reputation, the things he could give them, the things he could do, the things they could brag about — but in reality, would scream and run in fear once they found out he wasn’t what they thought he was. Those that called him a monster. Those that no longer breathe after making such a claim.
☣ — “I love her because of the fact that she’s different. I love her because she isn’t afraid of me. I love her because she understands the pain and suffering I have gone through because she has also suffered. I love her because she loves me for how I am and doesn’t try to change me, instead she tries to help me achieve the things I strive for, she encourages me more than anyone else ever could. She doesn’t care that I am not mentally stable, nor does she care that I have done things that would make most humans claim me insane. She simply loves me. She loves me.” The fabled tale of achieving true love that had been spun for as many years as he could recall, dancing around within his mind ever since his mother had read him his very first fairy tale storybook — it was something that resonated deep within his being, even when he couldn’t understand such a feeling — he had been fascinated with such a concept, not because it seemed ideal, but because it seemed so foreign to him. The older he became, the more he began to crave the love and affection of someone he held dear, but alas... he had never been blessed by such a thing no matter how hard he strived for it — perhaps it was his fault for wanting such things from people that he clearly meant nothing to — his grandfather had never been capable of love after all. “Crystal will always be more important to me than anything else. She will always come before my studies and my work. She will never be second place in any sense of the word. She was able to take someone utterly incapable of feeling any type of human emotions... and somehow able to make them feel every positive emotion that could ever be felt. She was able to make me feel as if my heart didn’t belong to that of a monster, but a human being. She was able to make me feel human.”
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☣ — His hand moves slowly, eventually coming to rest upon the strangers shoulder while the other hand seemingly disappears behind his back, emerging only a few seconds later with a rather large blade, the serrated edge resting gently against the other’s throat. “Now,” a barely visible smile begins to take over his features, “surely you see just how lovely a person she is? I’m sure that you understand completely why I love her, because if you don’t, then I’m afraid I’ll have to show you just how far I’m willing to go to show you my love for her. After all,” blade pressing further into the other’s neck just enough to draw droplets of blood, “I’m sure she would love to meet you. You would make a nice snack for her... and how she does love to play with her food~.”
#☣ [ ' I αɱ ƚԋҽ ҽαƚҽɾ σϝ ɯσɾʅԃʂ αɳԃ I'ɱ ʅσσƙιɳɠ ϝσɾ ʂσɱҽσɳҽ ƚσ ϝҽҽԃ ɱҽ. ' ] - ✡ Iɳ Cԋαɾαƈƚҽɾ ✡#☣ [ ' Eʋҽɾყσɳҽ Lσʋҽʂ A Vιʅʅαιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Dιƈƙʂσɳ Gҽɾαʅԃ Rҽɠιɳαʅԃ Sιɱɱσɳʂ ✡#☣ [ ' Lσɳɠ; ʅσɳɠ; αɠσ ι ԃιԃ ɳσƚ ƙɳσɯ ɯԋσ ι ɯαʂ. αɳԃ ιɳ ƚԋҽ ԃҽҽρɳҽʂʂ ι ɯαʂ ʅσʂƚ αɳԃ ɳσɯ... ' ] - ✡ Rҽʂιԃҽɳƚ Eʋιʅ 8 ✡#☣ [ ' Fσɾ ϝυɾƚԋҽɾ ɾҽʂҽαɾƈԋ. ' ] - ✡ Aʂƙʂ ✡#☣ [ ' Mαʂƙҽԃ Pαɾƚιƈιραɳƚʂ. ' ] - ✡ Aɳσɳყɱσυʂ ✡#{ Anon... this is why we don't question Dickson's love for Crystal. }#{ You will end up with injuries and then be Crystal's snack. }#{ He will happily feed you to her. }#{ I can't control him when he's like this. I'm sorry. }#{ Dickson is not above killing people or kidnapping people for those he loves and cares about. }#{ I mean... he already kidnapped and murdered his canon wife's college teacher because he took advantage of her. }#{ So he will certainly do ten times worse for Crystal since she doesn't care if he murders people like his canon wife does. }#{ Dickson will go to the ends of the earth for Crystal. }#{ It's not like he doesn't have the resources to do so. }#{ And it's not like he's incapable because he's weak like a human. }#{ He's an experiment gone wrong in the end so he is dangerous and deadly. }#{ He would watch Crystal viciously murder someone in front of him and he'd be like 'That's my wife. She's so cute when she kills people~.' }#tw; knife#tw; blood#tw; blood mention#tw; knife mention
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angleofmusings · 2 years
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in the evil world you would be the devilofduplication (duplication as in repeating as in thinking the same thoughts as other people, in my mind the opposite of musing because that's thinking quietly about a new point of view! sorry i liked my trail of thought)
DevilOfNoThoughtsHeadEmpty
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caterpillarinacave · 8 months
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You chose (Yes) the Consequences are as follows:
The man seems relieved you're staying to help and asks some questions about your own rope situation, surprised to hear you actually repaired the damage, he offers to help the best he can and the three of you head to the forest where you find trees fading in and out of seasons, the sky differs each time you look, and the ground shifts like rippling sand despite its solid foundation, it unnerves you, but you feel secure enough to push forward until you reach the field of your interest, which as the pictures indicate are covered in glowing material, loops of rope dot across in lines over the field which remind you of a seam, or maybe that's just the comparison that the writer of your book on all this had used, but she wasn't wrong for sure, so you set up shop, your friend off to the side minding his own business, the scientist curiously taking blurry photos and notes while you wander through the damage, the sickly air cracks drily, the rope puddles on the ground and hangs limply in the air, there's so much, it feels all wrong, like an itch deep in your bones, you pick a spot and begin to work, showing your methods to the scientist as he tries to replicate your actions, he does his best, but he can't quite get the hang of it and he keeps getting distracted reading through the old journal print out you'd brought along to reference, so you do end up shouldering the majority of the work over the weeks, not that you mind, the movements are becoming familiar, you can let your mind wander in peace, the soft rope gliding across your hands, the cracking shimmery air sliding back towards normalcy in increments as things fall into place, it's comfortable if a bit tedious and that's probably why you don't notice the person off to your side before they politely clear their throat to get your attention, you startle to see a woman, she's in fairly dated clothing and wears a fond smile as she works alongside you to repair the damage, she greets you with the name of the author of the book you've been using, you wonder how she's here but she only shrugs,
"You stand here patching a hole in the fabric of the universe, are there not odder things to happen? Though, between you and me, this is not the first I've met a fellow seamstress or seamster, even divided by time as we are. It always a unique experience of course." You puzzle at this, continuing to work on the ropes, she takes over a spot you had struggled with earlier, quickly straightening it out,
"More inquisitive minds than I have worked to measure and define this problem, but I do not mind not knowing, I think I prefer the mystery of it all." You let that pass over you a moment before you enquire about what would happen if you had walked away,
"Oh, it'd have fixed itself eventually, this fabric of ours is self-repairing if given time. But like a wound, it bleeds without care. I'm sure you've seen the consequences of this?" You agree, this conversation alone is proof of her words you imagine and she laughs, the both of you chat amicably, she gives you a few tips and tricks for the situation at hand, but also for general seamstry, you discuss the present and answer her questions where she has them, after a while the project begins to reach completion, together you've made great time, finishing several days earlier than you'd thought it would take, as the last of the rope disappears your newfound friend begins to fade, you say your goodbyes and sit in each others company as the space between time closes,
"Will you keep attending to the fabric in your own time?" She asks, you think on it, this wasn't anything you'd ever planned on, you could walk away of course, but there were plenty of times to have walked away before all this, you think you may keep going, when you can of course, she nods and with a final farewell she's gone. In the end you start a webpage that the scientist offers to run in his free time, he'll keep a look out for strange things possibly related to the rope around the world and have a place where people looking for help can reach out, the group he's a part of chips in, covering travel costs and occasionally coming out to help or study the phenomenon when you have jobs that appear, and for the most part your life continues on, while every once in a while you and your military trained companion head out to some new place in the world to mend the universe.
Congrats!
You've unlocked: Meet the Seamstress!
You've earned the title: Mender of the Universe!
You've earned the award: Carrying on a Legacy!
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euniexenoblade · 2 months
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since we're talking about call outs lately, i've been called out many times, most of which are made from lies and sometimes by altering screenshots, but the most effective call out i ever got was like, in early 2015 there was a tumblr user everyone knew was a terf, but she would say "actually i support trans women" this was before crypto terfs were as talked about so the language wasn't really there to say "hey this person is a crypto terf." but yeah some people put posts of this woman on my dash and i made a random post on my blog "why do yall reblog her shes a terf" and of course she searches her own name daily, found my post, and replied to it that me calling her a terf was racist. that was it. no other interaction. but she went on all night talking about me being racist and just making things up as she went "oh i bet she says the n word all the time irl" kind of shit that had, like no basis? But her follower base took it 100% and i literally had thousands of anons telling me to kill myself, trying to goad me into being racist (didnt work), and the most concerning thing was i got hundreds of anons being like "what was the point of doing hrt if you still look like that, you should kill yourself." It was like, violent and overwhelming. and on top of it I'd get random young teenager trans people who followed her and bought into her bioessentialism showing up in my messages being like "you give trans people a bad name" "you're why transphobia exists" etc etc it was fucking crazy.
but i lost like, no followers because everyone around me understood, this woman was a terf. this all set up the real one though.
later in the year a teenage "communist" trans girl made some snarky comment about me being racist on a post of mine blowing up. i ignored her cuz like, who cares it's just some random teenager. but i guess people were looking for a reason to hate me cuz that blew up, lots of people just took that at face value no need to investigate. when someone finally did send the girl an ask being like "hey how is she racist" she replied "I dont remember but I know she is" and even more people just took this as 100%. the thing is, i do remember her being one of those "you make trans people look bad" terf following young trans people, it's not that she didn't remember, it's that she didnt want to admit she followed a terf and she believed a terf just saying shit. I lost like 3/4s of my followers, i had a lot of people i thought were my friends just stop talking to me, and going forward every time i got a call out there would usually be a line of like "also she's racist, everyone already knows this" all cuz this girl needed to make a snarky comment cuz she just loves terfs.
the thing about the "i dont remember" bit is it made some weird game of telephone. "I dont remember" became "oh she's racist, i think she says the n word" which became "she called black bloggers the n word" like people just made shit up about me and connected it to this call out. and when id be like this isnt true id be met with a "this is just known, youre a known racist" and it's like, to this day i will still find people be like "hey good on you for growing as a person and not doing that any more" and its like I NEVER DID IT TO BEGIN WITH
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141 + König Jealousy Headcannons
Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️
Warnings: sexual references, mild angst
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Simon Ghost Riley-
When He Gets Jealous -
While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him
That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach
He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it
May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it
It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.
When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE
When You Get Jealous -
Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention
Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement
That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up
When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him
Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.
Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home
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König-
When He Gets Jealous -
Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet
He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious
He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does
He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you
Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you
When You Get Jealous -
Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous
He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous
He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice
Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad
Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better
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John Price-
When He Gets Jealous-
This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone
Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.
Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself
If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.
9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you
Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)
When You Get Jealous-
When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it
Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)
Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up
Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it
Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
When He Gets Jealous-
Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you
He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry
If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you
When You Get Jealous-
Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down
Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home
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He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you
He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
When He Gets Jealous-
Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous
When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)
Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner
If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you
May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his
When You Get Jealous-
Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it
If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous
When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)
If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home
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reimenaashelyee · 1 month
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Hello! I would like to know why you support Palestine over Israel especially since Israel gives equal rights and freedom to LGBTQA++ people and women.
I don't know anon, my home country Malaysia doesn't legally support LGBTQA+ people and discriminates against women too... The logic / gotcha you're trying to imply from your question falls apart for anyone who lives in a socially conservative country (which is the majority of the world btw). Do you also agree the lives and rights of myself, other queer Malaysians and other Malaysians have less value objectively and in a conflict, should be killed indiscriminately because our country is LGBTQA+ intolerant? Yes or no? Get off anon and tell me to my face right now. The lives and safety of civilian people and children are unconditional. Just because a country has a better position on some social rights doesn't mean it is absolved or excused from performing war crimes and other human right violations. See: the US, UK, Australia etc. Folks are free to call out those wrongs whenever they occur. If your sense of justice, empathy and compassion is dependent on zero sum games and conditionality and no nuance, then you're not practising justice, empathy or compassion, but total arrogance and regressiveness. There is no argument to be had here.
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00-jammy-00 · 1 month
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Helloo!!^_^
Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!
I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33
Btw could I be 🍯 anon?
Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s
Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.
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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?
Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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krypticcafe · 9 months
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Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.
(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)
Me and the Devil
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader
warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort
wordcount: ~3.8k
a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin
synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.
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Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).
But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.
Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.
Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.
"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.
"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."
When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."
"Fuck you." You rasped.
"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.
"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.
However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.
With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.
"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"
There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.
He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."
Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.
A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."
Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.
"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.
You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.
It was like you were seven again.
Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.
Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.
At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.
"Damn it, what now?!"
Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.
Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.
Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.
Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.
To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.
"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.
The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.
"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.
"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"
You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.
At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.
"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"
"Friendly, friendly!"
Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...
"Captain?"
"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"
Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.
You were safe.
It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.
"You're in good hands,"
"We've got them covered,"
"They can't hurt you anymore, love."
"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.
"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.
"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.
"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.
The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.
Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.
Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."
"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.
Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"
Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.
"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."
"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."
That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."
You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.
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a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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Hello!
First, I’m so glad I found your wonderful blog to fuel my micro obsession.
Had an idea if you’re still taking g requests:
The hotel team decides to go to a club for a bonding exercise/letting off steam. Alastor doesn’t want to go, hates this new music, flashing lights, whatevs. He’s going to support the hotel and all that. He gets there, hates it, pouty UNTIL he sees you out on the dance floor. Watching you move plus watching others notice/approach you stirs something in him, making him feral. He stalks onto the dance floor only to pull you away to some dark hallway of the club to show you just what kind of effect you have on him.
Thanks! You’re a rockstar!!!
Dancing The Night Away
Alastor x GN!Reader
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TW: GETS A LITTLE HEATED SO MINORS SHOO- 18+ NOTHING EXPLICIT IS WRITTEN BUT IT IS DEPICTED THAT STUFF DOES HAPPEN
A/N: I’m so so sorry this took so long, Anon!
Alastor let out a low growl as he watched the people around the club dance and get into each other’s personal space- touching. The music was too loud and too modern for his tastes; it made him want to tear his ears out and kill everyone around. He didn’t even make a true appearance on the dance floor, he just sat back in one of the disgusting booths watching people pass by or run off simply because they made eye contact with him. He turned his head to watch Nifty deep clean the sticky floor and grimaced at the thought of it.
It wasn’t until movement close by had his head snapping up and his eyes scanning the room, at first he didn’t see much and that would usually keep him calm but now? It infuriated him to no end as bright strobe lights started to flash and then he caught the sight of you, how Angel was dancing next to you as you held his arm, dancing along. That infuriated him to no end and his grip tightened on his cane before he tapped it onto the floor, the cane disappearing into the shadow’s easily. He didn’t like how that overgrown spider was hanging onto you and how the other people stopped dancing to watch you. Someone even had the absolute gall to try and touch you but his shadow was quicker. Silently getting rid of the nuisance as he stood up to make his way over to you, the crowd parting for him easily.
As he finally made his way over to you, he pulled you away from Angel and into his own chest making you smile and laugh at him, saying something but he couldn’t hear it over loud blaring music. He sent a glare to a random demon as they had gotten too close before he snapped his fingers, both of you disappearing in a dark secluded area of the club. He let out a sigh and relaxed for a moment, the loud music was putting a strain on his ears. “Wh- Al? What’s wrong?” You asked carefully, reaching out to place your hands on his arms as you blinked trying to get used to the darkness. 
Alastor pulled you closer to his body leaning down to press a kiss to your neck, his ears flat on his head as he thought of those insolent fools trying to touch you as if you weren’t his. He’d just have to make sure they would know you belong to him, that you gave him your heart fully. “Al? Speak to me, Love..” You replied ignoring how a fire was lit in the lower parts of you, he was silent as ever but if you listened closely you could hear him make soft grunting noises in anger and his foot stomped on the ground with a heavy thud as he pushed you back against the wall. It had finally clicked in your head, your darling Beau was jealous. 
Your hands came up and grabbed at his jacket lapels as he sunk his teeth into your neck, a loud gasp escaping your lips as you silently cursed at him. Then as sudden as the bite was he was licking up the blood and soothing the bite. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his and he was yours.
~~~
Angel scoffed as Charlie looked around, “They’ll be fine, Charlie..Alastor is with them.” He explained, causing the princess to frown. “But they aren’t even back yet-” She whispered as the front doors of the hotel opened and Alastor waltzed with you behind him. Angel froze before laughing as you glared at him desperately trying to fix your clothes and hid as many of the bite marks Alastor had left on your neck. “Looks like you both had some fun~” he called out as you looked away. “ANGEL-”
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laineystein · 5 months
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How do you make peace with the IDF storming into hospitals and UN schools? How do you make peace with the news that the IDF opened fire on Israeli citizens on October 7th? Why do the Palestinians deserve to be chased out of their homes since 1948? Do you know about Rachel Corrie? Do you know that the IDF has killed a record breaking amount of journalists? I don't understand how you can be so close to this tragedy and act like it is anything other than genocide.
You make peace when you understand international law and learn that the only war crimes being committed are being committed by Hamas. We’re not storming hospitals or schools. International law also states that as soon as a faction begins using an area for military purposes, it is no longer protected. It is no longer a “civilian” area, even if civilians still reside there. So many sources (that notably hate Israel and Jews) have come out confirming that Al Shifa is Hamas HQ. Many sources have come out confirming that Hamas is using schools to store weapons and indoctrinate children *and* that NGOs like the UN have turned a blind eye.
You make peace when you learn to educate yourself instead of falling victim to jihadist propaganda. The “Israelis killed their own people on October 7th” lie has been debunked. No sources could be found confirming that and the IDF and the Israel Police both came out saying that was factually inaccurate. If you know reporting out of those groups you know that when we’ve fucked up, we admit it. This was all a fabrication to excuse terrorism and continue to wrongfully demonize Israel.
You make peace when you deal with actual facts. There was a two-state solution planned before 1948 and then four countries attacked Israel and we defeated them all which lead to what y’all refer to as the Nakba. BUT!!! The Jewish population did not want their Arab neighbors to leave. Arab nations encouraged the Nakba. Arab nations have always used the plight of the Palestinian people to further their agenda of demonizing Israel in an attempt to eradicate it and kill Jews. But if we’re going to talk to about being expelled from your homes - Jewish families were expelled from Gaza in 2005 when we gave the land to the Palestinians. Do you care about that? Where are the Jews in Iraq? Yemen? Afghanistan? Syria? Sudan? Morocco? Feel free to talk about how those people were ethnically cleansed from those countries - but if that doesn’t interest you then your activism might be performative and you might just hate Jews.
I know it is not genocide because I’m so close to it. I spent all of last week ensuring the safe passage of Palestinians out of Gaza, into the South. I had Palestinians thank me. I administered aid to Palestinian children and the elderly. I watched them pray to Allah that Hamas would go away. What happened to my people on October 7th was an attempted genocide - something that Hamas has admitted to. What we are doing in Gaza is working to prevent a genocide, one of Hamas’ own doing.
Please read a book. Please get off social media. Please stop regurgitating lies fed to you by influencers and antisemites that did not care about this conflict before October 7th. You clearly need to be educated and messaging an IDF soldier on anon isn’t the way to do it. I have better shit to do. Yalla bye✌🏼
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razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months
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- hi ! 💌,,
ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!
I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.
Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).
AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!
ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble
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‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!
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ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.
ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .
ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!
ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!
ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.
ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.
ᯓ "Adam?!"
ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"
ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.
ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"
ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"
ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!
ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.
ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.
ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.
ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.
ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"
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