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aeliuss · 2 days

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Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader

Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol

Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact

Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol

chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.

which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--

delectable.

he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.

that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.

he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.

"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."

his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."

"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.

he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"

your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.

"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."

before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.

he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.

your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.

"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"

in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.

"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.

he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.

he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.

he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.

"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.

"does it look okay?"

he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.

you groan.

"it looks awful doesn't it?"

"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"

#straykids #bang chan #straykids fanfic #bangchan fic #skz #bangchan fanfic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #bangchan fluff #smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #bangchan smut

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two-white-butterflies · 1 day

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the sun sets in the east | daemon targaryen

Description: Daemon Targaryen didn't die during the war - though there were many nights that he wished he did. A prequel and sequel of the sun rises in the west, in which Daemon tries to navigate his relationship with his only son and the new life he is bestowed.

Pairing: daemon targaryen/dayne!reader (you haunt the narrative)

Rating: General Audience (grief processing, daemon being a grey character.)

Author's Note: Daenerys-Drogo inspired.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Then you shall return to me."

There was no milk of poppy that could subside the ache in his heart. He marched to the Stepstones with nothing to lose, he came home losing everything. "I offer my condolences, brother." Viserys places a hand on Daemon's shoulder.

Daemon watches his son from afar.

Maekar looked exactly like him, the same aquiline nose, the same purple eyes. He almost wishes that there were other children, perhaps a daughter with the same eyes as yours. He stares off to the vast horizon, the gardens in his periphery.

"When Aemma died, I was a shell of myself. Unable to rule or eat." Viserys conversed. There were no scrolls that explained how to cope the death of a wife that one loved very much.

"- and you found comfort with the Lady Alicent." Daemon interrupted, bitterness in his tone. "If you are suggesting that I find the same comforts in another one's arms. I decline." he gave his brother a tight-lipped smile.

He's spent his entire life looking for Viserys' love. He's long understood that he'll never find it, and that he'll never be his brother's first choice. Daemon waves at his son. Maekar runs towards him.

"We'll be going, your grace." he lifted his son off the ground. Disappearing from the Red-Keep. Gods know when he'll return.

He met another woman after you. After the harsh pushing of his brother to take another wife, he decided to settle with Lady Laena. She was the same as you - the same fire flowed through her veins. She wanted to be a warrior and was skilled with a dagger. She knew her place. She knew how to obey, and behind those purple eyes of hers - he finds a glimpse of you.

Maekar, who was five, placed a tender hand on Lady Laena's belly. "It will a brother." he surmised with childish curiosity. Daemon watched coldly as his second wife took kindly to his son. He wanted to rip Maekar away from Lady Laena - wanted to tell him that the woman wasn't his mother - wanted to tell him to never forget you.

Alas, he couldn't.

He couldn't bring himself to even mention your name.

"How can you be so sure, my prince?" Daemon sat beside them on the bed, placing a kiss on Maekar's forehead. "I-I wish it is." the boy played with the edges of the blanket. "- then I'll have someone to play with - like muña promised." he stuttered.

Daemon's heart sinked to his chest.

Laena smiled.

"You'll have a lot of siblings, I promise." now it was Laena's turn to place a kiss on Maekar's forehead. Daemon clenched his fists.

It was his fault. He did not speak of you - how else was Maekar supposed to know? He'll have to make things right.

"Where are we going, kepa?" Maekar inquired as his father led him to the heart of the Red Keep. "Laena is not your muña. You know that, right?" the man opened the conversation. His son replies with a hum.

Maekar wobbles in an attempt to catch up with his father. His eyes twinkling with adoration and love. "Uhuh my real muña died in the war." the son replied, and they both halted in front of a chamber. It was Daemon's old chamber.

A layer of dust gathered on the doorknob. He could not find himself to visit. "But you cannot remember muña. You were a babe when she died." he twisted the doorknob - opening the door wide. Maekar's eyes travelled along the walls, soaking in the interior of the room.

He remembers this room!

The bed was unmade - the hairbrush still had a strand of your hair. Is a piece of hair still a part of your head even when it has fallen on the floor? Are ghosts still a part of your family even when they're dead?

He reaches for his father's hand.

"Please tell me!" he beamed, and Daemon sat on the bed. Dust jumping around at the sudden shift of weight. Maekar coughs.

The older man points at the portrait on the wall. "I met your mother when I was much younger. She was seven and ten, a Dornishwoman. She made it very clear that she didn't want to lose her liberties by being married to me." he chuckled, the pain in his chest lifted by memories of you. "Liberties?" Maekar tilted his head.

"Freedom. She didn't want to lose herself. She wanted to remain a warrior, to train in the fields regardless of the court's opinion. The court had a lot to say, my son, but she did not care. She never cared about anything beyond us three." the smile never left his face.

"Remember what I told you about being a prince." he stared deep into Maekar's eyes and the little boy nodded. "When forced to choose between the kingdom and your family - always choose the kingdom, because your duty is to the people before yourself." the little boy recited, stuttering and messing up the end sentence.

"Your mother was as valiant as any prince. She wanted to choose you, my son - but we weren't the only ones suffering. Sons were marching off to war, and they never returned. She couldn't help but think about you - about our safety. The War in the Stepstones threatened the very peace of our Kingdom, and she protected that." the smile left his mouth, back to the bitter reality.

"Promise me that you'll always love your mother. Do not find fault in what she could not do." Daemon wrapped Maekar in his arms, placing him in a tender embrace.

"I always love her, kepa." he promised.

Maekar was ten and six when Daemon married Princess Rhaenyra. By then, Laena was long dead - cold to the touch as you.

Princess Rhaenyra was different, mayhaps the only woman after you that Daemon truly loved. She was filled with fire and he worshipped her - they were built in the same fire. He was devoted to her, the same way that he felt devoted to Viserys.

It was a different type of love - devotion, but not love itself.

"Hold him, husband." Rhaenyra smiled, sweat gathering at her forehead. Daemon smiled in return, reaching for Aegon.

His second son, the namesake of his ruined brother. "- he looks like you." she added, licking her lips.

"I was scared, I thought that I'll lose you both." he confessed. Rhaenyra reached for his face. "You'll never lose me." she promised, just before their lips could be bridged together - a handmaiden opens the door.

"My prince, my princess. Lady Melara has given birth to a son." the handmaiden announced. Rhaenyra's face sunk to the floor.

Maekar has stolen her thunder, again.

Daemon was surprised to see Baela and Rhaena patiently waiting outside Lady Melara's door. "Baela, Rhaena, don't you have lessons." he greeted the both of them with a hug. "I don't suppose that you'll have us attending boring lessons when our nephew has recently welcomed the world." Baela rolled her eyes.

"Are they letting visitors in?" he inquired and the sisters shrugged in unison. "Maekar promised to bring the babe out for all to see." Rhaena informed and Daemon shook his head.

On cue, Maekar opens the door with a screaming bundle of warmth in his arms. "The babe must stay inside the chambers." Daemon placed a foot inside of the door, blocking his son from exiting. "- there are diseases outside, and the babe must keep his strength." he asserted, Maekar returns to the chambers with a defeated sigh.

He looks at his younger sisters.

"You are free to enter the room, loves." Maekar smiled, all three of his visitors clamored to be the first to enter.

Maekar hands the babe to his father, the same adoration and love in his eyes as all those years ago. "I decided to name him Rhaegar. After princess Rhaenyra." his son announced. "My brother was born today too, wasn't he." he asked and Daemon nods.

Finally, a child that looked like you.

Rhaegar had the usual blonde hair and purple eyes, but the shape of his eyes, his nose, his face - it was you.

"I settled them both down, and left after they had fallen asleep." Daemon mumbled unconsciously. "Congratulations, my son."

Rhaenyra leaned on the doorframe, watching as her husband played with the children. It seems like the gods enjoyed playing cruel games. Rhaegar was born the same day as Aegon. Maekar's Viserys was born on the same day as her Viserys.

"We'll need to find a safer place for them. Once the Hightowers have landed their first blow, Dragonstone won't be safe." Daemon informed, standing up and walking towards her.

"You'll protect us, right?" she asked, and he nods.

He wraps his arms around her. He always said that Rhaenyra needed to marry a great man in order to keep the realm safe. He played that role very well, and she believed him. She melts in his embrace, feeling safe caged in between his arms.

"Kingslanding will be ours." he promised.

Before Daemon could land his first attack on the Hightowers, news of Maekar's sickness reached his ears. "It is the same fever that took your aunt, Daenerys." the Maester informed - and suddenly the room became very small, and his chest tightening with every second.

"He needs vigilant observation, there are cures for this sickness, but all of them are in Kingslanding. They were gathered by King Jaehaerys - and have remained in the castle since." the Maester added, for a second Daemon considered surrendering to the Greens.

If it was the only thing that could guarantee Maekar's safety.

"- but he can fight the sickness on his own." Daemon placed a finger to his lips, in deep thought. "If his dragon was here, my prince. But Gaelithox is kept in the Dragonpit - also in Kingslanding." the Maester's eyebrow merged into each other.

Whatever Maekar's fate now remained in his own hands.

"You are telling me that there is nothing that we can do?" Daemon attempted to keep his anger at bay. "I'm sorry, my prince." the man bowed. "- we could give him milk of poppy to ease the pain." the Maester suggested.

Milk of poppy. It brought him dark memories.

"Kepa, in the afterlife - do you think that I'd recognize her?" Maekar opened his mouth, feeling the cold compress on his forehead. It's been decades since he last saw his mother. He couldn't remember her anymore, not the sound of her voice, her face or her scent. She was a mere memory, a portrait of the woman that loved them.

"What do you mean?" Daemon asked, refusing to entertain the idea of his son's death. "When I die and I see her. Will I recognize her?" Maekar repeated his question.

Daemon answers with his silence.

Opposite to the news that reached Kingslanding. His first wife did not die immediately after the war. She had a slow death - fighting an infection caused by a wound. He sees flashes of the past, he remembers taking care of you - easing your fever.

Perhaps, placing the same cold compress on your forehead.

He promises that this time will be different. He wouldn't lose Maekar in the same way that he lost you. "Kepa, I asked you a question." his son will not let the topic rest. "It's alright if you do not wish to answer." Maekar adds, his voice suddenly deeper than all the years before. Daemon is bitterly reminded that his son is no longer a child.

"You'll recognize her. I'm sure of it - when you see her. Wrap her in a warm embrace and tell her that you love her." Daemon breaths.

How long has it been since he last saw you? A lady who was ten and nine. Now he was thrice your age - already having lived multiple lives, and you were still there - the ten and nine year old lady who had a life in front of her. Taken by the sea.

"I've not been a good father or a good husband." Daemon admitted.

"- I've not been good to your Mama Laena or Rhaenyra. I often wonder if they hate me, because I hold onto the dead." he added, remembering the fight he had a few hours ago with Rhaenyra. 'How is it that you love her more? She is a dead girl, I am here. I am alive.'

"They do not blame you, I think. It is your right to mourn." Maekar comforted, despite the piercing headache that threatened to split his skull open. Maekar closes his eyes.

"Mother used to sing me a song. I remember." he stated, and Daemon knew exactly what he was hinting at.

The House of the Dragon crumbled the same day that Maekar Targaryen took his last breath. Prince Daemon took to other places, choosing to go on a conquest with the dragonseed, Nettles. He learnt many things with the child. Questioned even his own beliefs.

If people of no Targaryen bearings could claim a dragon. Was he wrong his entire life? Were Targaryens not closer to the gods? Taken by grief and jealousy, Queen Rhaenyra ordered the head of Nettles and thus began Daemon's first defiance.

Daemon still had love for Rhaenyra.

Even in the middle of a cold war, he still fought for her claim. He defeated Prince Aemond in the Battle Above God's Eye, though the battle ended in both of their deaths. Princess Rhaenyra and her last son were burned by Aegon II.

All that remained were Rhaegar and Viserys. Children of the dance. And so, with the remaining forces of House Velaryon and House Tyrell. Prince Rhaegar was proclaimed King of the Iron Throne.

No dragon ever hatched from the mighty house of the Targaryen ever again.

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strawglicks · 2 days

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Misty isn't selfish for wanting friendship with toons.

Misty is selfish for her lack of consideration of toons, their feelings, their perspective. She only focuses on herself and how she has been hurt.

She feels hurt by Bessie's actions, claiming "there was no reason" for her to do such a thing. But toons and cogs are at WAR. Bessie didn't see Misty, she saw a COG approaching her and retaliated. She did not see them as an individual, she saw them as the enemy that's been terrorizing and colonizing their land. And rightfully so.

That being said, Misty did not have ill intentions approaching Bessie. Because of this, they feel hurt that she responded in such a violent way. Misty can feel hurt, but they need to understand why toons feel the way they do towards cogs. They are at WAR. And Misty just doesn't seem to realize that.

She feels entitled to play with toons and garner sympathy from them despite their ongoing battle against the cogs.

It's all about "you still tried to hurt me" and "i've done nothing wrong". Misty truly believes she is the victim and thinks she's entitled to sympathy from toons. But she's not.

Misty genuinely wants friendship with toons, which is why she feels so hurt when they reject her, even if they are right in doing so. Much of her dialogue implies she really is oblivious to the gravity of this war and why the toons, obviously, don't want to engage with her:

Misty may want to befriend toons with no bad intentions, but that doesn't erase what the cogs are doing to the toons' land. And the toons are still justified in fighting Misty. She is a cog at the end of the day.

Misty is so focused on her own, personal pain that she is completely disregarding that a WAR is going on. She disregards what the toons endure due to Cogs Inc. and thinks, just because she doesn't personally hate toons, that they owe her friendship.

I think Misty is probably the main reason for the fandom's villainization of toons and woobification of the cogs. But it's not the fault of how she's written, it's the fault of people who feel bad for a character and suddenly think all their morals have to align with that character. Now, they all have to adapt to Misty's way of thinking: that she is an innocent victim who has done nothing and doesn't deserve any of the treatment she's gotten from toons, and that toons are just evil monsters who attack her for no reason.

THIS COULD NOT BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH.

You can enjoy a character, like Misty, and feel bad for her. It's obvious there is some real suffering happening here, but it does not justify her view or lack of consideration for others. They are so focused on their own pain that they never think of others. They are so focused on being the victim that no one else can be a victim.

This line of thinking is so flawed, and when a big chunk of fandom REPEATS it, it leads to wild mischaracterization and woobification of. colonizers.

You can like characters who are bad people and disagree with their actions. Misty is not a good person. I think they are suffering, they are hurting, but that cannot be the end of the story. There are others, like the toons, who are suffering and hurting as well. And that should not be erased for the sake of your blorbo. You can still love Misty while condemning her way of thinking. I do myself.

There's the opposite end as well, where people acknowledge this character is not a good person but suddenly think they have to hate the character as a whole because they are morally bad.

Misty Monsoon is very flawed as a person and suffering from her own victim mentality, which hurts others as well. But I love this character. They're fucked up and just want a friend, but they're going to need to be more considerate and aware of their own poor actions if they want to earn that friendship and respect from others. Give and take.

#toontown #toontown corporate clash #ttcc #misty monsoon #rainmaker #my big juicy brain in full effect #having misty thoughts tonight i suppose!#sick and tired of mistys treatment in fandom. i think by far she gets the worst next to chip #misty is not flat evil but they are not good either.#i dont think they wish to be a bad person but they are bc theyre so obsessed with being a victim and getting sympathy #bc they feel its the only way they can be understood and make connections with others #i hope she makes a friend one day. i also hope she massively improves herself before doing any such thing.#get therapy gurl!

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coopigeoncoo · 3 days

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Meat Cute, Chapter 4

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 4 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Alastor, Overlord and apparent connoisseur of fine meats and terrible jokes, became a regular sight around the shop. You'd tried to maintain a more professional demeanor during the Radio Demon's return visits, making sure your customer service smile was pinned in place and impeccable manners on full display.

It was obvious that Alastor was less than pleased by the shift in your attitude towards him.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Alastor asked offhandedly as he perused the available selection of sinner meat on unremarkable Tuesday afternoon, the abundant stock of angel meat having long run dry.

“No!” You rush to assure him, nearly dropping your order pad in your nervousness. “No, of course not, Sir!”

“Oh, I'm so relieved to hear that!” He said cheerily, his piercing red eyes locking onto yours, demanding your complete focus and attention. “Then there must be some other explanation for the abrupt shift in your treatment towards me, hmm ?”

“Well, that is, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation that would satisfy his inquiry without revealing the mortifying truth. Overlords were proud and egotistical to a fault and the fact that you hadn't recognized one of the most powerful people in Hell likely wouldn't be well received.

“You were so much fun on my first visit,” he laments with a dramatic sigh, the sincerity of which was diminished by the ever present smile on his face. “All the jokes and comradery- why, it was an absolute riot ! I hate to say it, gentlemanly as I am, but you've been quite boring by comparison these days.”

Terror prickled beneath your skin and you swallowed thickly, doing your best to hide your fear even though it was likely a futile endeavor. Alastor's pupils had narrowed into thin slits that sliced across his irises; the attentive gaze of a predator that had honed in on its prey.

Without a doubt, the only thing worse than being seen by an Overlord was being seen as disposable by an Overlord.

“I see,” you manage to squeak out. “I'll do my best to be more…accommodating in the future.”

“Splendid!” Alastor responded cheerfully, tapping his cane onto the ground. “I'll take that promise and some bacon.”

“Right away, Sir,” you agree readily, prepping a section of butcher paper for his order. “And just so you know, we got this particular meat from a very sick sinner at the hospital. But don't worry, it's been cured.”

The Radio Demon's reaction was instantaneous, a loud bark of laughter followed by the sound of canned applause filtering the air.

“Bravo! Bravo!” He crowed in delight. “Funny and a basic sense of self-preservation! I dare say that you and I are going to get along famously.”

Much to your surprise, you did get along well with Alastor; in so much as a guppy could be congenial with a shark.

You shared a similar sense of humor and had a hunch that Alastor would swing by more frequently when he felt as though his witty repartee wasn't being well-received by the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, finding you to be a more receptive audience.

“It's positively depressing what passes for entertainment at the Hotel,” Alastor grouched, his eyes narrowed in disdain. “Every free moment is frittered away in front of that infernal boob tube.”

“Where do they get off, relaxing in their free time?” You tutted in faux disapproval as you waited for the Radio Demon to make his deli selection. “They must have tripped and dropped their Protestant work ethic on the way through Hell's gate.”

“I'm not objecting to them having a bit of leisure time, goodness knows I enjoy occasional bouts of indolence myself,” Alastor admitted, emphasizing his point by leaning on his microphone as though overtaken by a wind of sudden exhaustion. “No, no- I simply disapprove of the manner in which they choose to spend it.”

“And what would you have them do instead?”

“Why, anything at all! The red sky's the limit!” The Radio Demon announced, twirling a pointed finger up towards Heaven. “Stamp collecting, embroidery, amputations, voodoo, bird watching-”

“All the traditional pastimes,” you nod indulgently, watching Alastor's ever present grin deepen at your remark. This is what kept him coming back for more, you thought. Your dedication to a bit and, most importantly, willingness to indulge his antics.

“What about you?” Alastor asked, the weight of his focus settling onto your shoulders in a way that was still oppressive, but had become less overwhelming as time passed. “You aren't a complete dullard, surely you must spend your free time on more enriching activities than watching television.”

It amused you how he spat the last word like a curse, and you would have laughed had you not been caught completely off guard by Alastor's question.

Never, in the many weeks of your acquaintance, had Alastor shown any interest in you as a person . You were a prop, a bit player holding up the scenery in the grand production of Alastor's life. His shtick was furthered by the addition of a straight man so that's what you were, adhering to your assigned role without complaint.

The Zeppo to his Groucho.

“Oh, uh, yeah-, ” you stammer, reaching for the thin pewter chain around your neck. With bumbling fingers you pull out the necklace tucked into the top of your baggy dress, holding the ivory colored pendant out for Alastor to examine. “I carve. Bone, mostly since that's- it's what I have around.”

Time seemed to slow to an absolute crawl as Alasor slowly and intently raised a hand towards your neck, well aware of how intimidating the motion was and reveling in your obvious discomfort. Heart rabbiting inside your chest, you held yourself as still as possible as the tip of his index finger, ink black and wickedly sharp, grazed the underside of your jaw ever so lightly as he draped the pendant across his palm for inspection.

“Flowers?” Alastor hummed, the sound low in his throat and practically vibrating in the air between you. “A delicate choice for a woman who spends her day hacking up corpses.”

“They're all my favorites from when I was alive,” you explain, unsure why you felt the desperate need to do so. “They don't grow here in Hell and I- I didn't want to forget what they looked like.”

“Is that something that worries you? Forgetting?" Alastor hummed thoughtfully, the sound harmoniously mingling with his static.

“Just the good things,” you mutter, heart crashing down to your stomach when Alastor finally releases your necklace; pendant swinging into your clavicle with a dull thud . “I can't seem to forget the bad stuff no matter how hard I try.”

“That is the way of things,” Alastor laughed, staticy and piercing. “Especially down here!”

Later that night, as you laid curled up on your lumpy mattress, you couldn't stop the goosebumps that rose across your body as you remembered the haunting feeling of Alastor's claw prickling your skin.

You wondered if the feeling of him would fade with the good things, or linger with the bad. It worried you that you couldn't tell.

#pigeoncoos🕊#alastor x y/n #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you

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mysticsublimeperson · 17 hours

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Based on this post I wrote sometime ago, I got a little idea

Arthur was furious, he had been waiting too much for his supper. Merlin definitely was going to pay for that.

He had been in such a good mood after the improvised hunt he went on that afternoon. He knew Merlin tended to do this little acts of revenge when he makes him cover for him, be a little late, have the water a bit too cold or burning hot, pick the itchy nightshirt, tiny thing that he allowed for the sake of the strange relationship they had. But it had been more than three candle marks since the night bell. He was hungry.

Could he have called for another servant to bring him food? Yes, yes he could. But it was a question of principles.

And he was the prince.

"Call for Merlin, bring him here, now!" he roared to the guard posted at his door, who gave him a surprised look at the sudden request.

"Sire?"

"You know what?" he decided "leave it, I will look for him myself, and I will make him eat my boots when I find him!"

Arthur went to Gaius's chambers muttering threads to the air "If he has gone to the tavern, so help me god I'll have him made stocks just for him" he said fuming as he strut his way to the tower.

"MERLIN!" he shouted when he entered the infirmary.

No one answered. The room was badly lit and Gaius was nowhere to be seen, which meant that Gaius was likely doing his nightly rounds.

"Merlin!" he called again, while he marche to Merlin's tiny room without paying any mind. He opened the door with a bang, and tried to make sense of the space, this room was almost in total darkness, the light of the moon slipping through the window.

"Merlin!" said while shoving the bundle of sheets in Merlins bed out of the way, only to find it empty, "oh, ho ho... I'm going to kill him" he declared turning around and shouting his name out, just for the sake of burning some steam.

"Sire?" he heard the door squeak open while a tired looking Gaius entered the chambers "Is everything ok?" he said quietly.

"Of course not, Gaius. Have you got any idea of where in the world could be my useless of a manservant?" Gaius looked stricken by the question.

"Why do you ask your highness? Do you need him for something?" his tone was strange but Arthur hadn't caught it yet.

"Obviously Gaius, I been waiting for my food for ages, Im properly famished and it's all his fault. So don't try to protect him, tell me the truth, Where is he? Is he in the tavern? I bet he is..."

"Merlin is here" he said slowly, and pointed to the cot in the corner of the room.

"He sleeping! I can't believe him, Is he drunk? He must be, not hearing my call" he kept ranting while he got close to the cot.

"Gods, Child!" Arthur stopped on his tracks, Gaius hadn't talked to him like that in a long time. "Can't you see?" he said, and now Arthur could detect something in his voice, not yet understanding what it was.

Gaius took a candle and got close to him so Arthur could see.

"What?" Suddenly his voice didn't work correctly, and felt simultaneously the need to see what Gaius meant and to turn away and leave without never understanding what Gaius meant.

He breathed and looked at the cot.

Merlin was pale, sweaty and dirty. More than usual, and his face looked sucked in, his hair looked oily, he was lying on his side and his hands were resting next to his face, dark with dirt and his wrist red and raw. He could not see very well, but he guessed that his neck would be in a similar condition.

"How much time he was in the stocks?" he asked softly.

Merlin had told him that it was a common occurrence, when Arthur decided to flee of his responsibilities that he needed a moment to breathe, Uther punished Merlin a bit by putting him in the stocks. But Arthur did it too, he wouldn't say constantly, but Merlin probably would. The fact was that the stocks had never put him in this position before.

Gaius shook his head "He was just released" he answered with disappointment, he was disappointed at him "Your father was rather upset you weren't at the meeting with Lord Durham" Gaius he'd moved to his working table and was grinding herbs, he almost managed to sound detached.

"I... I know" Arthur didn't know what to say. He kept looking at Merlin in the semidarkness. A whole day in the stocks, still, he'd seen people in worst state than Merlin get through that, and not end up like this. Something was missing.

"He was in the stocks the whole day Arthur" Gaius explained a bit chocked up, and then moved behind Merlin with two bowls, une with water and a cloth and the other where he had been grinding the herbs. He pulled up his shirt and with the cloth he started to clean softly. Arthur's stomach started to ache, suddenly the hunger and fury that had moved him across the castle disappeared and transformed itself in something else.

"There were no breaks, and no one was allowed to bring him food or water" Arthur tried not to gasp, while the old man kept cleaning, and even in the darkness he could see how the cloth was staining an ugly dark color.

"Uther seemed to be under the impression that he had some kind of knowledge of your whereabouts, because he kept asking. And then he got tired. And he had Merlin flogged" Arthur had to close his eyes, he was shaking, he had known it was coming, Gaius did not try to hide the situation, and it was obvious something more had happened but to put it in to words made so real it hurt.

"Merlin is a member of the royal household..." he said weakly, that punishment was disproportionate, that was something he would expect for a prisoner or a traitor. The guilt settled in his throat, in his chest, in his stomach, he was afraid of asking more, suddenly afraid of getting closer, of seeing it with both his eyes.

"Ten lashes" Gaius answered the unasked question and Arthur sucked his breath.

He had to stabilize himself. Ten lashes were for the weaker, it was enough to kill.

"The sun was high in the sky when they did it" Gaius kept talking and Arthur just wanted him to shut up he needed time to process "He spent the day in the sun, with the wounds open" he took the herbs in his hands and started applying them to Merlin's back, the man did not even flinch "We are lucky the infection hasn't taken him already" Arthur let himself fall in the bench trying to control himself. "So Arthur, I'd like to think that whatever you were doing, whatever secret quest Merlin paid the price for, was important"

"I..." he didn't know why he was talking, there were no words that could be said that excused this, just "I am so sorry" chocked out, his voices sounding unstable.

Gaius did not answer. He kept applying the herbs in silence.

#fanfic #merlin #fanfiction #arthur pendragon #merlin x arthur #merlin emrys #idea #bbc merlin #merthur

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eddiediazismyhusband · 18 hours

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i really don’t want this to seem ignorant- so sorry if it does. But FOX did make Lonestar, which has a queer canon couple, a trans guy and other incisive characters

i know Oliver said FOX didn’t allowed Buddie but also kind of wrote it in but also pretended they didn’t but also had a plan they never followed through on, but FOX aren’t evil are they? I mean I prefer 9-1-1 over Lonestar but I liked the show and all the different characters they had (even if they made some bizarre decisions)

i’m not saying FOX don’t suck- but why specifically does the fandom hate them so much. Is it cause queer baiting (over buddie)?

I can’t speak for myself, but personally a lot of my issues with FOX handling the buddie situation was less so with Fox, but more with Kristen Reidel for coming in and completely sweeping away the setup that Tim had made for buddie at the end of season 4.

Obviously we only know tidbits that have been said in interviews, and they’re never going to outright talk about what happened (at least not until buddie goes canon or the show ends) but from the few things we’ve heard, it sounds like the sniper plot was setup to be bothe Buck and Eddie’s “oh” moment, and Tim had planned to explore that in season 5 to work towards Buddie canon.

However when Tim switched over to LS from 9-1-1, and KR stepped in, she and FOX both nixed everything that Tim had initially planned, and took the show in a different direction— this is why a lot of fans dislike season 5 and 6 (not because of buddie not going canon, but because it almost felt like a different show at times— and we all know the debacle that was the rushed plot wrap-ups at the end of s6 that granted weren’t entirely KR’s fault, but could have been handled better than they were)

So tldr, i think a lot of fans are more annoyed at the combination of FOX and KR both deciding not to go down the bi!buck route in s5 and eventually leading to buddie canon. at least that’s where my frustration lies, but everyone has different reasons. I think other people are aggravated by the fact that LS did make Tarlos canon but so vehemently disagreed with Buddie/Bi!Buck…. (that is not to say I don’t love Tarlos i absolutely do, but it is a little annoying that they would give us one queer ship while denying another)

(and to answer your question about FOX being evil- this might be my socialist brain talking but they are a major media corporation which to me automatically makes them icky bc their main concern is making money which means they really don’t gaf about representation unless it makes them money— but this also goes for ABC and any other network but i digress)

I hope this clears things up/answers your question? I don’t think there’s a really clear-cut across the board answer, but this fits with a lot of what i’ve seen/discussed w other fans.

Thanks for the ask, anon 💕💕💕

#911 abc #911 #911 on abc #911 lone star #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #buddie 911 #buck and eddie #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 spoilers #kristen reidel #tim minear

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npd-goro-akechi · 2 days

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Yoshizawa, and what I would have liked to see from her character

P5R spoilers, to no ones surprise

I'll be honest, when i first played through P5R I very much did not enjoy Sumire. Didn't hate her, I just could not get myself to engage with her character. Which was a shame, because I saw what they were trying to do, I just think the game did it badly lol. Since then, I've started liking her significantly more. But, again, in no thanks to the game. Every few weeks I feel like I see a post somewhere discussing Sumire so I wanted to put all my thoughts in one coherent post. This mostly covers the direction I wish Atlus had taken to integrate her into the game better, based off completely my own opinions. First, I would have loved for them to lean further into the mysterious, possible-antagonist type I feel like they were teetering on the edge on in the P5R opening scenes in the casino. I think it would have been cool if you saw her hanging around members of the PTs during school, or had cutscenes of seeing Sumire and any of them together as if she was purposely befriending them, or any other small scenes that could have made her look suspicious if you were already coming from that angle, but then looking back after you finish the game, she's just some guy making friends. Of course, players who had played through the P5 vanilla would likely be a bit less suspicious, but with the addition of the 3rd semester I think it would be enough to keep people guessing about her role. I really don't have any detailed and well thought-out examples, though, so maybe it's not fair of me to criticize this part too much

However, I would revamp her fight with Joker in Maruki's palace completely. I feel like it comes off too much like it's Maruki's fault; she gets kept in his palace for a week and then when you meet her she fights you. To me, personally, even though I know she's choosing to do so, it really doesn't feel like it - it just feels like more of Maruki's influence. I think it would be infinitely cooler if she went back with the Phantom Thieves and then while they were all going through the palace she did something to sabotage their progress or try and stop them. It would feel so much more like her own decision and also highlight that desperation to stay as Kasumi - that she would be (apologetically,) willing to do something to halt or possibly harm her friends to avoid going back to how things were. I think if the Phantom Thieves managed to talk her out of it here, it would also work well for her actual awakening - it would likely be more impactful after a fight rather than in P5R, when the PTs are just going through the palace. It pisses me off how agency is a major theme of the game and yet one of the few times Sumire makes a choice, it's so easily brushed off as "Maruki's influence," because the game did not do a good job at portraying otherwise. In a fit of desperation, Sumire decided to fight Joker; she made that choice. But, especially with how the fight goes, with her persona then taking over, that choice is just washed over completely. I want her to be so desperate to hide from her trauma that she goes against the Phantom Thieves, and I want it to be unquestionably her decision.

There's probably more I could write, especially more about just the horror of her character, the whole taking on the role of your dead sister, but really that second part about changing her and Joker's fight is what I really wanted to talk about and dedicated most of my thoughts too lol

#ive gotta make a comic with that idea someday #or a fic #oh atlus why must you treat your female cast so terribly #also #again #imagine having your world shattered because you thought you were your dead sister #i didnt think about it much at first but the more i do the more im like #what the fuck #thats kinda scary #what the hell maruki #p5 meta #p5r #p5 #p5 royal #sumire yoshizawa #persona 5 #persona 5 royal

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tsams-confessions · 12 hours

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So, that episode am I right? Referring to the one that caused that whole shitshow on tumblr.

Did I ever think Sun was sv1c1d@l or depressed? No, not really, that one line he said which seemed to make everything explode didn’t really make me think so. He was dealing with hallucinations telling him everything was his fault and Eclipse had the star, everything was wrong. Honestly, I just related it to a feeling whenever life was getting tough for me. Was he perfectly fine? No, I’m not saying that. When people saw him as sv1c1d@l I could understand that, I respect it, I just didn’t see it personally myself. Now the episode, I always saw miku as a way for the show to talk to the fans and people are getting upset at being “called” annoying. But, how else is the show supposed to talk to the fans without breaking the fourth wall, to still have it be a show? I honestly can’t see any other way :/ Could they have shown Sun getting better? They could’ve shown anyone getting better but that’s the price you have to pay when you have so many characters in a show and, when’s the last time anyone’s had a proper healing arc? If we focus on just one character, what about the people who kin other characters? There’s also YouTube’s guidelines, I doubt the show wants to get age restricted or striked and the show writers aren’t professionals, if they go in-depth about someone’s mental illness and such, they might get things wrong or offend the fans, there’s no avoiding offending the fans though. People would feel misrepresented or stereotyped which is why, they likely won’t go in-depth about such topics, they can also be triggering and such. But I can see how it’s also offensive, annoying character showing you, but I don’t think there was a problem with her before when she was representing the fans. But hey, it’s a YouTube show, you don’t like how it works? Then don’t watch it, no one’s forcing your HCs away. They aren’t your characters to control, not your story to write. Just because they show symptoms or act a certain way related to something, doesn’t mean the show sees it that way. All in all, if you don’t like the show, don’t watch it, don’t like where it goes? Too bad, you aren’t getting everything you want.

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood #suicide cw #guys pleaseeeee please stop censoring yourselves in submissions. this is not tiktok

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krea2re · 1 year

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Im about to become an oc guy

#I still love doing fanart n shit but I'm getting increasingly annoyed as kind of just being know as a fanart guy #Which is to the fault of no one but myself #My fears of my ocs never being received among people outside of friends became a self fulfilling prophecy...#And i just leaned into it for years #But I really don't want to do that anymore! I have a lot of stories i want to tell. And my creative price that I want to share #It's all important to me and I'm not going to let the waves of social media effect how much EYE can post my ocs #Goodnis gracious sorry for VENTING in the TAGS on ART BLOG #Process* sorry im falling asleep

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cemeterything · 2 months

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#🐉#personally im option 1 because at least if its the second one at least some of the fault isnt mine #i can live with being unable to control or predict other people #whereas if i cant articulate myself in the first place i feel a lack of self control. which i cant stand.

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inkskinned · 1 year

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the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

#this was much longer i had to cut it down for legibility #but i do want to say i am aware this post doesnt touch on human rights violations as a result of fast fashion #that is because it deserves its own post with a completely different tone #i am an environmental educator #so that's what i know the most about. it wouldn't be appropriate of me to mention off-hand the real and legitimate suffering #that people are going through #without doing my research and providing real ways to help #this is a vent post about a thing i'm watching happen; not a call to action. it would be INCREDIBLY demeaning #to all those affected by the fast fashion industry to pretend that a post like this could speak to their suffering #unfortunately one of the horrible things about latestage capitalism as an activist is that SO many things are linked to this #and i WANT to talk about all of them but it would be a book in its own right. in fact there ARE books about each level of this #and i encourage you to seek them out and read them!!! i am not an expert on that i am just a person on tumblr doing my favorite activity #(complaining)#and it's like - this is the individual versus the industry problem again right because im blaming myself #for being an expert on environmental disaster (which is fucking important) but not knowing EVERYTHING about fast fashion #i'm blaming myself for not covering the many layers of this incredibly complicated problem im pointing out #rather than being like. yeah so actually the fault here lies with the billion dollar industries actually.#my failure to be able to condense an incredibly immense problem that is BOOK-LENGTH into a single text post that i post for free #is not in ANY fucking way the same amount of harm as. you know. the ACTUAL COMPANIES doing this ACTUAL THING for ACTUAL MONEY.#anyway im gonna go donate money while i'm thinking about it. maybe you can too. we can both just agree - well i fuckin tried didn't i #which is more than their CEOs can say

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