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tearskillstardust · 3 months

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; GENSHIN MEN WHO HAVE DEEP, DARK DESIRES

NSFW; 18+ content and themes ahead, minors DO NOT INTERACT.

all legally aged genshin men; gender-neutral reader. interacting with the following content is a free choice for all readers. the author does not take any responsibility for the repercussions.

!! tw— somnophilia, dacryphilia, corruption kink, possesiveness, reader has anger issues, bondage. !!

—GENSHIN MEN WHO FIND YOUR INNOCENCE SO ENDEARING. who find your naivete to underestimate their strength so endearing they're forced into acting that out when they're around you. who don't really act tough around you, instead choosing to be funny and relaxed with you around, letting you win the little cuteness aggression battles. but when you're in bed and end up expecting the same, they genuinely feel like laughing at how innocent you're being. they know you aren't kidding, but the way your eyes widen in half shock when they slam you right on the bed carelessly, not even faltering in their steady breaths, they end up smirking at you. who make sure to let you know who's the boss in the bed, and that they can't always supress their prowess around you.

— men who revel in the way you seem to be tamed so easily when they bite and be harsh with you, laughing at your easily won agreement. who realize that they're so eager to snatch your little bubble of naivete away from you, taking strange yet disgusting pleasure in watching your eyes widen in shock when they do something even slightly rough. eager to see your reactions they quick their pace and can't deny that they're in love with the idea of seeing you lose your innocence, your virginity to them. they can't help themselves when you're being like that though, how can you act so soft and cutely even while doing such lewd things? how can you look so cute as they suck harsher on your clit? they can't help but completely tear their clothes off in the eagerness of destroying whatever nice image you had of them in your mind, eager to let you know they can claim you when and however they'd desire.

albedo, wanderer, kaeya, xiao

—GENSHIN MEN WHO LIKE YOUR WIT. so they, your lovely boyfriends, speak to you without restraint, about anything and everything. initially, you always start off with a happy and nice mood, talkative and interactive as you yourself are. they like indulging in all kinds of discussion with you, even if its very out of pocket, as long as they have an excuse. but then slowly, as they gain a few laughs at of you, they begin trying to pick a fight, getting outright irritating as the debate ensued further. who laugh in their inner monologue as they see you getting stressed when they said completely wrong things and slowly your patience wore thin, until it dried up completely and you were left ending up want to crush their face with that annoying smirk that indicated their faux sense of victory.

— men who internally rejoice when you get all that feisty and aggressive, ready to fight them. who stand watching as you frown deeper when they start teasing you outside of the topic of discussion. who corner you very slowly, so tactfully you don't even realize it until you're so fed up you turn to leave but collide right with the bookshelf and fall back into them—only to feel something poking against your skirt, turning red with realization. who get silent and then end up breathing slowly against your shoulder, reaching out slowly for your collar as they loosen the tie and find access to your skin, marking it enough that you remember you're theirs when you speak to that boy who eyes you at all the places he shouldn't. who then turn and leave, leaving you to satisfy yourself with your own aid, at least till the night. they don't mean to be any nicer at the night, but you may get to release at least once if you beg them hard enough.

itto, heizou, kaveh, venti

—GENSHIN MEN WHO ARE SOMEWHAT POSSESIVE. don't get them wrong but they don't like you having too much fun with someone else when they're around or eye someone with the same love-filled gaze you look at them with. they like being yours and you being theirs. a strange carnal desire takes over them when they start feeling jealousy, they don't doubt you, but they always doubt others. they don't want you to get hurt, or worse, fall into wrong hands anyhow. but what makes them actually snap is when you start entertaining others as well—that's when they lose control and completely snap; perhaps you forgot a little something? do they have to remind you who has the rights to claim you? nothing worrying, they know how to work around that, too.

— men who leave no chance for you to escape their scrutiny when they corner you after enough observation. they know how everything's going, they'd just rather you spew everything out, and they have rather an interesting way of making you be honest. when they suddenly stop their fingers and you get desperate enough to grind against them, they pin you and you tell them the whole truth and they smile at you. 'and what do you think you should have done when they were staring at you like that?', and suddenly they're edging you again before you exclaim loudly enough that you're theirs and they lose their self-control. who have no problem giving you what you desire so desperately if you're willing to be cooperative with them, and when you give them the promise they wanted, you can have all of them.

ayato, zhongli, capitano, thoma

—GENSHIN MEN WHO FIND YOU SO PEACEFUL. who think you look so soft and cute with the soft pillow pressed against your flushed cheeks, mouth parted pen slightly. who can't help but stare as you sigh softly and switch positions, trying not to notice the way your shirt sticks to your body with all the sweating. who find your soft breaths too pretty to ignore, and suddenly sit up, unable to sleep. who climb over you, making sure not to wake you up as they kiss you softly in your sleep, finding no resistance when you pry open your mouth further, softly biting down on their tongue in your sleep. who have to drink the guilt up and convince themselves that you had agreed when they had asked you about this once, so technically they are allowed to do this with you.

— who only intended to press kisses all over you, not to get so hard, and now that they are, they need some relief after all. who try their best to be subtle initially and get it over with, but when your walls tighten around him and you squirm so much in your sleepy haze, they really loose control and move rougher than they initially planned, unable to resist their urges. who move quicker now as your eyes flutter open, surprised when you find your hands pinned down and them straddling your waist, thrusting away. it's so hard to gain understanding, make any sense of what's happening with their thrusts rapidly increasing in pace and harshness, and can only hold on to their shoulder as they try to apologise through shaky breaths, but fail in so. who come loudly and largely unable to move out go for another round until they're certain you simply can't take it anymore, and they have to convince themselves to move away, sleeping with the thought that they can have you again in the morning—they have enough energy for both of you, after all.

aether, baizhu, diluc, gorou

—GENSHIN MEN WHO LOVE TO SEE YOU SMILE. so darling, don't get them wrong when they get hard after seeing you cry and shake like that. they hate it when you're genuinely sad, and would both kill and die should it come to that, anything for their darling—but seeing you cry and shake uncontrollably like that when you're beneath them never fails to light a flame inside them; a beastly instinct that encourages them to explore this side of you more, and make you shake harder with every release. who quicken their finger movements, shaft painfully pressed against their pants as they watch you arc your back, tears rolling down your neck as they lick them away like a depraved animal.

— men who never fail to remind you how beautiful you look too, even though it would pain them to see you like this in any other context, and always ensure to tell you that. who press into you harder, quicker like they've never experienced such rush before, adrenaline pumping into their veins with every other whine you make. who can't help but edge you over and over again like that because of how loudly you cry out and beg them to continue playing with you like a broken record, stating your pleas half-senselessly. who can't let you reach your high that peacefully because they find more pleasure in seeing you reach that point then at the end of it, so they tease you until you can't take it and then plead to them with wet puppy eyes and a melting gaze that forces them to let you have your way—they're not known for ignoring prayers, after all.

wriothesley, tighnari, pantalone

—GENSHIN MEN WHO ARE SO PROUD OF YOU. who love letting you know simply how amazing you are, and leave no stone unturned it praising you when you deserve it. who like seeing the way you weave your way through life's difficulties with admirable grace and emerge victorious through all adversities, constantly smiling. they love calling you theirs and even go so far as calling themselves trophy husbands who married rich, always gaining a side eye, yet never minding it altogether. who love the way you blush when they vocally express how amazing you were for having solved that problem so easily where others struggled. which is why they also have a certain penchant for claiming you as theirs in front of others, always sneakily ensuring that they do something that others know who you belong to.

— they always need that element of risk when it comes to making love to you, always desirous that others be able to see or hear them somehow. that others can hear the way you moan and cry out, or see the way you curl or melt into their touches and actions alone. they want to ensure that others thrist over you, who only belongs to them alone. they do not mean it in a demeaning sense, but the way others pass them envious looks always had them laughing and clutching you closer. who like it when the doors just a bit open, just enough to let your melody leak out of the room, enough for every peeking eye to know about the only person you would let that do to you.

childe, cyno, kazuha, neuvillette

—GENSHIN MEN WHO LIKE YOUR QUICK, SHARP MOVEMENTS. who admire how you speak what's on your mind without rethinking it too much. who like how your wrists move sharply without any form of restriction, like the movement of peacock feathers as they dance in the rain. or even how your hair seems to be desirous of fluttering no matter however still you may yourself be, always dancing on the wind. so, when you showcase such a bubbly and innocent side of yours in a formal public setting, or if you say something without restraint that undoes all their hard work, they decide it may be time to teach you a thing or two about appropriate etiquette. don't find yourself too surprised when they bind you against the bed then, disabling you from moving.

— they know how to deprive you just enough to have you squirming for them, relentlessly whining for an end to their teases. who admire you so much with that pretty colour all around you, and mark you all over so that you have something to remind you of appropriate behaviour when you're sitting all alone and thinking. who edge you to the point you can only make promises of how you'll think twice before speaking next time, but they still don't believe that pathetic cry and are wholly convinced you need to be left for a bit without any sensations, all except for the silks binding your hands and legs. who find strange satisfaction in watching you whine quietly, trying anyhow to rub yourself against the cloth underneath you but fail entirely to please yourself. it is when a tear drop of frustration forms and wets the satin against your eyes that they relent, finally letting you relieve yourself by riding them through the night.

al haitham, dottore, lyney

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

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Leftovers [2/3]

Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series

part 1 | part 3

warnings: unhealthy relationships, anxiety and depression, minor smut, possessive Simon, abusive behavior

you're his, now

wc: 4.6k

It had been months since the night your life ended and started again.

For the longest time, you were livid. Inconsolably upset at everything. A special type of betrayal festered in your chest where it rattled and raged against the hollow cavern between your ribs. That betrayal quickly revealed itself to be grief as the days went on. That utter melancholia threatened to suffocate you every time you thought about your old partners, The Prices. How they kept you like a pet, to be played and toyed with. How they decided to have a child without your input. How they only told you when they announced it to all their friends, like you were nothing more than a guest in their lives.

Then, there was Simon. Your savior. Or, at least that’s what he liked to call himself. It didn’t feel like salvation when he ripped you from the grasp of your old partner's bitter and unloving hands, not when you realized the cost of it. Lying wasn’t supposed to be synonymous with loving, and yet it was the very thing that had put you in the palm of Simon’s hands, made you so pliable for him as he fucked and marked you that night, making it impossible for you to ever return to your old life.

There was nothing but poison waiting for you with your old lovers, if you could even call them that. But being force fed the antidote hurt just as bad when that corruption had become the only comfort you had ever known.

Simon had a way of making things feel better, which usually consisted of him being anchored between your legs. If there was an issue he couldn’t fix by talking or kissing it away, then he would fuck it out of you, and you hated that it worked as well as it did. When you wanted to be mad at him for lying to you, for tricking you into giving yourself to him, his cock always ended up burrowing into your cunt. Your breath would be lost, stolen from your very lungs, and your words along with it. He had grown to know you so well that he was able to pull orgasms out of you with his eyes closed, rendering your brain numb and incapable of argument or resentment.

This cycle continued for what felt like forever. Your days would pass by with you rotting in bed in frustration and anguish as you choked on that antidote and feeling of betrayal, and when Simon had enough of your unresponsiveness, he would fuck you into submission. Coo and embrace you like a true lover would. It created some sort of dissonance within your very being. You were supposed to be mad at him for tricking you, and yet it felt divine being held against him. You couldn’t get enough of the searing sensation of his lips along your skin, or his breath caressing your ear as he slept.

It was agony being torn apart; forever caught between the gravity of your old lovers and the man that stole you from them.

Eventually, you woke up one day and it didn’t hurt anymore. Whatever frustration or anger that burrowed underneath your skin dissipated; vanished into thin air as if it had never existed in the first place. Things seemed brighter, you cried less, and Simon looked at you with adoration rather than pity for your shattered mental state.

Perhaps it was the ignorance that made things better. Without any access to the Prices, you had no knowledge at all of how they handled your absence, if they even cared at all. All you knew was that you had managed to find solace within Simon, despite the terrible start to your relationship. He really did take care of you, just like he said he would. He insisted on paying for everything, refusing to let you work, and provided you with everything you would ever need.

After all, you were his now.

Which was why you found yourself in front of a boiling pot of water in the kitchen of his apartment. Without the use of your phone, Simon had given you an old CD player to keep you occupied as you cooked or went about your day. Radiohead’s album In Rainbows droned on in the background as you mixed the pasta around the pot to keep them from sticking together. Spicy marinara bubbled on the next burner over, and its heavy aroma hung thick in the air around you, leaving you in a mouthwatering stupor.

Just as the alarm on the stove went off signaling the pasta was cooked, the deadbolt began to jingle behind you. After you turned the burners off, you quickly slipped out of the kitchen to greet Simon, who flashed you an entertained smirk. Exhaustion pulled at his eyes, yet they always seemed to light up when they landed on you, and you couldn’t help but grin up at him. It wasn’t often that he got home before ten, as his new job often kept him late, so you were ecstatic that he arrived just as you finished cooking up dinner.

“Smells like you’ve been busy,” he chuckled as he locked the door behind him.

“I thought I would have to leave some out for you again,” you admitted. His hands found your hips and he drew you closer, catching you in his gravity. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Before he allowed himself to respond, Simon squeezed your hips as his lips descended onto yours. It was the way he always greeted you when he arrived home from work, like he couldn’t get enough of you, or more accurately, like he knew you couldn’t get enough of him. You could taste the stale cigarettes on his breath, and the slight hint of mint that he used to attempt to cover it, and it took everything in you not to moan at the flavor. He was the one to pull away first, and your lips curved into a smile as his thumbs rubbed soothing circles along your hips.

“Let’s eat, yeah?” he prompted.

It didn’t take long for dishes to be served and for both you and Simon to settle on the couch in the living room while some programme droned on in the background. Even during meals you always huddled close to him as if you would die without his heat. Your leg laid pressed against his as you leaned into his side, and had Simon not been as large of a man as he was, you certainly would have smothered him with your presence.

“How was work?” you questioned once half your plate had been emptied.

“Was alright,” Simon replied with his mouth full of pasta. “Bit slow.”

“That why you’re home early?”

“Mhm.”

Simon never seemed like much of a talker, and neither were you until recently. A majority of your life had been spent in silent pining for your basic needs and desires, but once Simon had stolen you away, it was like all you ever wanted to do was talk. Perhaps it was because he genuinely seemed to care about what you had to say. Or maybe it was because some sort of loneliness still managed to creep into your life, like a ghost that haunted you.

“I’m glad you’re home early,” you admitted. “I’ve been missing you all day.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. I always try to come home as soon as I can,” Simon assured you.

A twinge of exhaustion lurked underneath his tone, screaming at you that despite the fact he got off early, he certainly had a long day. He always seemed drained after arriving home, proving to you just how hard he worked in order to support you, to give you the life he told you that you deserved. You always had someone who would crawl into bed with you, someone who wasn’t ashamed to show you affection and love, someone to truly take care of you. Despite the circumstance, Simon was everything you could have ever asked for. Everything you would ever need.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

That night after the dishes were washed and the lights were turned down low, you and Simon hid underneath the covers where your limbs intertwined with one another. For some reason he always insisted that you sleep naked, and though you weren’t sure why, you didn’t really mind. In fact, feeling the warmth of his body seep into you was so intoxicating you probably would have come to that conclusion even without his prompting. You couldn’t get enough of his scent, or how his skin felt against yours, and even though the two of you had laid in bed for nearly twenty minutes you buzzed.

Nothing could satiate your need for him. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you were able to crawl into him and hide yourself away underneath his very flesh. You wanted to shrink yourself down, become some small thing, and tuck yourself into his pocket to be forever stuck with him. A vile yearning for him tainted your very essence, and yet you wished it would destroy you all the same.

“What’cha so wiggly for?” Simon questioned, half awake yet still teasing.

“I missed you,” you whined as you buried your face further into his bare chest.

His chuckle sounded low and grumbly in his throat as his arms wrapped firmly around your center. Wandering hands caressed along your hips and down your thighs, traversing and memorizing every single dimple of your flesh like it was the only story he ever wanted to know.

“I’m here now, love,” he hummed.

“I know, I just get so lonely when you’re gone,” you admitted with a pout. “You’re gone forever at work, and I just wanna talk to you. I was thinking that maybe if I had my phone back I could message you-”

“What did I say about your phone?”

The tone Simon used to cut you off was sharper than anything you had ever heard from him before, and it stopped you in your tracks. There was a fatigued sort of frustration that drenched his words which left a part of you wishing that you had never opened your mouth in the first place. He was too tired, too irritated to have a conversation, especially one like that, and you were afraid you had pushed his buttons a bit too much.

You swallowed hard as Simon’s hands moved to your chin, forcing you to look up at him through the dim light rather than keep your face hidden in his chest. Darkness obscured his face, making it near impossible to truly read his expression, and yet you found your bottom lip quivering all the same.

“Sweetheart,” he urged, softer that time, “what did I say about your phone?”

“That it’s… better if I don’t have it,” you answered as your teeth bit into the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah?” His hand moved from your chin to your cheek where his thumb gently rubbed at your skin. The notion was comforting, soothing even, yet you knew he was truly checking for tears. “And why’s that?”

“Because then the Prices won’t be able to contact me.”

Just like that, your mood was ruined. Any reminder of your past lovers was a painful one. Even after all those months they still seemed to have some sort of control over you, and the fact that they could sour your mood with just a simple memory was dehumanizing. Your somberness was so potent it exuded from your body like fine mist, and Simon’s caressing of your face increased tenfold in an attempt to calm you before things became catastrophic. You were his sweet, fragile girl, after all.

“Right. And it’s better that way, isn’t it sweetheart?” he concluded softly. “It’s better here with me, because I take care of you, don’t I? I don’t neglect you, or treat you like some pet.”

Although he was right, it didn’t make the bitter ache in your chest go away. Simon did his best to sooth the pain with his hands and words, and you shivered as his fingertips traversed from your face, to your shoulders, and down your waist. He had to find some way to distract you, some way to remind you that he was the only one you needed, and that you had to stay far away from Price and his trophy wife. You were too good for them; he needed you to know that.

“You’re mine, and I’m yours, that’s what we agreed on, yeah?” he continued. His hand began to dip lower, moving from your waist, over your stomach, and between your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers burrowed between your thighs, searching for access to your not quite slick cunt. Your emotions were too high for you to be wet, Simon was well aware, but you both knew he could change that within an instant. “They’ll never see you again, never get to abuse you again because I’m here to protect you. I love you in a way they never did.”

Right as he spoke those last few words, his fingers greedily swiped against your clit, and your legs had no choice but to fall apart and grant him greater access. A gentle tremor shook the bed as Simon repositioned himself, pushing you on your back so that he could hover over your exposed body like it was a fresh meal just for him. Famished lips descended onto your neck as his fingers prodded against your entrance, forcing your mind to go blank with longing.

“Needy thing, aren’t you? Need my full attention? I’m sorry, sweetheart, shoulda fucked you the moment I got home, huh? I’m all yours, and you’re all mine. Say it,” Simon urged as he still withheld himself from you.

Squirming, you reached out for him with wanting hands as you snaked your arms around his neck. This was how he healed you, with his fingers teasing your cunt and his saccharine words plugging your ears. There was nothing else in the world you needed besides Simon. Every chord of your body yearned for him as if he was the only sustenance your body craved. This was how he healed you. With honeyed words and a worshiping mantra reminding you of who you belonged to.

“I’m yours.”

That night only added on to the other countless evenings spent with Simon tucked between your legs to voraciously consume you whole. There was no thinking to be done when he could mercifully do it for you, and you were content with that. At least, you thought you were. Things always became difficult when Simon vanished off to work, and he would do his best to make it up to you when he arrived home, to distract you from the empty feeling that seemed to fester inside of your chest. But no matter what he gave you, what he did for you when he was home, your mind always wandered when he was away.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you lived with the Prices, how cold and lonely that house was, and how colder still your lovers were. Mr. Price — no, John — had sent you over to Simon like a bitch; some obedient pup meant for entertaining but not for loving, and it didn’t make sense. He had sent you over to comfort Simon so flippantly, yet acted as if the world had ended when you never returned back to them that terrible night. Was there some sort of miscommunication? Was that never his intention at all? And still, they left you out of the imperative conversation about their pregnancy like it never concerned you at all.

You were spiraling again, and Simon was able to pick up on it just as easily as he could sniff out a bad wound. He could only keep you caged up so long, and he knew he needed to remedy it before he was back at the beginning with you. So you shouldn’t have been surprised when he arrived home one day with a gift. Beautiful, blush pink cloth sewn into a perfect sundress sat underneath delicate tissue paper, and you had a hard time hiding your awe and surprise when you revealed the astonishing dress. Simon’s eyes seemed more dilated than normal when he saw you hold it up to your body, and you caught onto his small smirk.

Without hesitation, you slipped into the dress at his prompting, and you were ecstatic to find that it fit perfectly. Simon had gotten used to your sizing after having to buy you a whole new wardrobe after you escaped the Prices, but even then you were impressed at how well it formed to your measurements. It was as if Simon had every inch of your body memorized after the months you had spent together to the point that there was no way he could mess up your sizing. You couldn’t help but smile knowing that no one else had ever done that for you before.

It didn’t end there. With Simon having to work longer hours that night than normal, he insisted on taking you out to lunch, which was something you couldn’t ever recall doing. Ages had passed since you had even stepped foot out of Simon’s apartment, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt the sun on your skin. You didn’t know why he hadn’t taken you out sooner, but if you had to guess, you were certain it was for the same reason he did everything else; to keep you safe from the Prices.

The restaurant Simon took you to was the fanciest you had ever seen before. Several art pieces adorned the walls with such vibrant shades you were convinced that the art itself cost more than whatever it took for them to construct the building itself. Crystal chandeliers hung high above your heads, and before either of you could order the waiter had filled your glasses with the finest of wines. The menu itself didn’t even have any prices, but Simon didn’t seem at all concerned with it, and insisted that you ordered whatever you wanted.

There was something deliciously domestic about being there with him. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you, that much was evident, but there was something exciting about being able to show that fact in public. To prove that someone loved you enough to show it off, rather than hide you away. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t wipe that grin off your face as the two of you talked about nothing while eating the mouthwatering meals on your plates. For a moment, you two were the only beings in the world.

For a moment.

A flash of something caught your attention. Maybe it was a giggle, or the cooing and awing, but all you knew was that your eyes suddenly glued themselves on the patrons a few tables away from you. For a split second, you thought you saw them. John and his wife. It wasn’t them at all, but you realized you only feared that because this woman, this beautiful woman with her glowing skin and healthy laugh, was pregnant. Obviously so, too, as her stomach swelled and stretched with the growing life inside of her. Her husband could hardly take his eyes off of her, constantly reaching across the table to hold her hand despite her attempt at trying to enjoy her lunch. It was… stomach lurching.

By that point, Mrs. Price would be four months along. Or, no, more than that for sure. It had been four months since you had been taken from them, since you had even heard from them. Four months without closure, or the opportunity to talk and get answers. A part of you needed to know why things happened the way they did, but you were completely in the dark. All you had received was whatever Simon spoon fed you, but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure if it would ever be enough. Maybe you had been empty for too long to ever be full again.

“Everythin’ alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes tore away from the unsuspecting couple and landed back on Simon. He studied you carefully with a neutral expression, but you saw the slight press of his lips. Dark red wine faintly stained his pale skin, yet you couldn’t find yourself able to appreciate the beauty of it. All you had was a rotten feeling in your stomach and the sudden urge to vomit.

“Yeah, of course,” you lied.

Things got bad again when Simon left for work that night. Maybe it was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be home until late that made your brain ceaselessly buzz. Or maybe it was the image of that pregnant woman at the restaurant, the one that reminded you of the suffering you had to endure all those months ago. You attempted to silence that incessant sound in your mind as best as you could, because you knew you couldn’t afford to blow up, so you did anything to distract yourself. Music blasted through the CD player louder than it ever had, certainly to the annoyance of your neighbors, but for once you found yourself incapable of caring about anyone but yourself.

When that didn’t work, you put on a movie instead. It wasn’t one you recognized, just something you had flipped to when you were browsing through streaming services. You had gotten dressed in one of Simon’s plain tees in an attempt to drown yourself in his scent, and yet that didn’t dull the ache either. All you could think of while the images flashed in front of you on the screen were the movie nights at the Prices. How John would make you cuddle up next to Simon, how the only comfort you could find was in his beating heart as he held you close to him…

There had to be a reason for it all.

When the movie ended and there was nothing to accompany you but silence and the sound of your own breathing, that’s when you knew you couldn’t handle it anymore. You needed something. You needed answers.

Like a feral rat, you began to search every nook and cranny of the apartment for your phone. If you could find it, maybe you could get some answers from John. Even if Simon said it was bad for you, you knew you needed closure, no matter how much it hurt. Wherever Simon had put it, it was well hidden. You nearly tore apart his dresser, every drawer in the kitchen, the corners of the bedroom closet; everywhere you could think of, and it wasn’t there.

Just when you were about ready to tear the floor up, you finally found it. Really, you had half expected him to have thrown it away, yet there it sat underneath the bathroom vanity, hidden behind a myriad of cleaning supplies so far back the overhead light couldn’t illuminate it. When you finally had it in your grasp, you nearly cried, and you weren’t sure why. A fit of emotions bubbled in your stomach, each of them violently conflicting, yet frustration took over when you attempted to turn the phone on and the screen wouldn’t light up. Of course it wouldn’t, it hadn’t been used for months.

Rushing off to the bedroom, you quickly borrowed Simon’s charger and let your phone sit on the nightstand as it ever so slowly charged. Answers almost within your reach, and yet your anxiety bubbled up more than ever as you waited for that black screen to flicker to life.

It took ages for the thing to fully load up once it was charged enough to turn on, and you held the device in your shaking hands. All your old apps appeared on the screen, countless pictures that you had taken over the years, but the most eyecatching of them all was the amount of notifications you had for your text messages. 172, all within the last four months.

When you clicked on the app, you quickly realized that all of those messages had been sent by John, and you hated the way your stomach dropped. But this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Answers? To have him explain why he did what he did? To make it stop hurting? With a heavy breath, you clicked on his name, and the app instantly scrolled up to the very first message he had sent in his cluster over the last few months, and it was then that you noticed something was wrong. Just before his onslaught of messages, there was a reply sent by you, one you didn’t remember sending.

Don’t contact me again.

This wasn’t you. That had to have been Simon, because he had taken your phone from you before you ever got the chance to respond to them yourself. Their worried messages, their pleading for you to come home, to know that you were okay. It didn’t work, obviously. The next few messages after that one was full of John pleading to speak with you, of several missed calls, of him apologizing for anything they did to upset you. The texts dated back only hours, sometimes minutes apart, and it was strange. You had never seen him so desperate before. Not for you.

Eventually they seemed to stop for a while, only to start back up again weeks later. There were plenty of comments saying how much they missed you, how they wished you would change your mind and come home, and it felt… wrong. Hadn’t Simon told them that you were with him? He told you he did. He had even quit his job with Price because he didn’t want any bad blood, so why did they act as if you were lost? Like they didn’t know where you were at?

Confused, you continued scrolling, eyes glossing over at the repetitive messages, until eventually you stumbled across pictures. Baby clothes. Cute little shoes. Ultrasounds. Pregnancy announcements. A gender reveal. They were having a girl, and they painted the nursery a cute shade of pink, just like the dress Simon had gotten for you that day. And then there was a video. It was short, and though it wasn’t visually stimulating, it had a rhythmic pulse accompanying the audio. The baby’s heartbeat.

Wish you were here to share these moments with us.

You weren’t able to stop the tears streaming down your face, or the food that came back up to say hello. Indignifying as it was, you sobbed on the cold bathroom floor as you vomited and continued to dry heave the emptied contents of your stomach. Everything crashed down on you all at once, and yet you felt numb at the same time. Nothing made sense. Why were they still trying to talk to you after all that time, like there was still a chance you would return?

Then, you suddenly thought back to the morning Simon admitted his lie to you. How he had done it so easily and without remorse. How he grabbed at your cunt like he… owned you. You would have thrown up again at that thought if you had more food in your stomach, but you instead rose from the cold tile to rinse your mouth. You didn’t feel like a lover. You didn’t feel cared for. For the first time in months, you felt like a pet.

So you did the only thing you had ever been good at doing: you ran. You ran just like you did back at John’s club, and every other time your emotions conflicted so bad you swore you would die. After you gathered a small bag full of personal items, your phone and wallet included, you rushed out the door and didn’t bother to look back as it closed behind you.

an: this was only ever supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to expand on the story a little more, as i felt the first part wasn't able to fully convey the story i was trying to tell. once the 3rd part is posted though, that'll be it, so please don't harass me about more parts again (: gives me anxiety

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #f!reader

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aft3rhrs · 5 months

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— number: unknown ღ

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: dead dove, yandere, manipulation, corruption, mentions of stalking, mentions of therapy, dirty talk, humiliation, obsession, mentions of masturbation & dub con sex, allusions to cnc, allusions to depression and anxiety, hints of fear kink, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut).

*use of the word “rape”.

masterlist

In the last few months, you've grown used to the sound of your phone ringing late at night. It still sent your heart into a frenzy, nerves sparking up like wires — but you peeked at the screen nonetheless, taking less and less time to hesitate to answer.

Number: Unknown.

Palms sweaty, you clicked accept on the call.

A chuckle greeted you.

"Lonely?"

You tried to ignore the chill his voice sent rippling down your spine, raising goosebumps along the way.

"What do you want?"

"Don't be like that," Jungkook cooed. "I missed you. Wanted to check in. What's up? How was therapy last week?"

The question came with a tint of mockery, instantly dusting your cheeks. It wasn't surprising by now that he knew; he knew everything about you, it seemed, from soul to entrails. But you couldn't wrap your head around how, or why he even paid such close attention in the first place. All you were capable of comprehending clearly was the anger blazing in your chest.

"Screw you."

"Aw, come on," he crooned on the line. "I'm just checking up on my favorite girl. Any progress? Did you tell your therapist you let your stalker fuck you right after filing a report? Did you tell him you pick up my calls?"

You felt his words swirl and burn in your stomach, as if you downed a glass of liquor. Shame crawled all over your skin, hot and uncomfortable. Why couldn't you find it in yourself to hang up? For a moment, you considered doing just that, but then quickly brushed off the idea.

Better to entertain him like this than to have him show up at your door.

Right...?

He could hear you breathe in, the lack of an answer curving his lips upwards.

"Well, that's okay. I really don't like you seeing him, though. I'm kind of offended you went to someone else for help."

"You're the reason I need help!" You hissed, unable to stop yourself. "You're seriously sick in the head."

"What a mouthy little thing you are," Jungkook murmured. "Pretty brave for someone who claimed she's afraid of me." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Pretty hypocritical too... I might be crazy, but you're the one still talking to me. Didn't you come all over my cock like a good little girl too? I think you might be a bit sick yourself, sweetheart."

Oh god.

No.

You pretended you didn't feel yourself clench around thin air, pretended your underwear wasn't getting drenched.

"But I don't mind," he continued, raspy, "I can be your therapist, baby. I'll help you feel better."

Your eyes fluttered closed, head growing foggy.

"Why keep running? Why keep running if you always let me catch up?"

"I don't," you whispered, "I'm trying to—"

"No," Jungkook tsked, "you're not. Are you too scared to face yourself in the mirror? Do you see my eyes when you try?"

You shivered for some reason.

"No."

"That's a lie... You like it when I chase you, and no therapy is ever going to help you. You know why?" He coaxed, soft. "Do you know where your sickness lies, angel...? It's not in your head. It's in your heart. You dont trust love, you don't feel it, unless it's got you losing breath, nice and tight, like a noose. Why don't you let me give it to you?"

Despite the pounding of your heart, you tried to keep his words out of your mind, tried to focus before you disappeared so deep into the fog, you'd become a part of it. But you were so tired... and floating in the dark, weightless, felt a little more like peace.

Still, swallowing thickly, you tried.

"Do you get off on taunting all your victims like some kind of psycho?"

"Oh baby," he sighed. "How many times do I gotta tell you? You're the only girl I want. No need to get jealous."

"Go fuck yourself—"

Another chuckle, then a groan.

"I should. I really want to... Miss you so much..."

Your stomach flipped.

"Miss your mouth. Didn't have time to fuck it back then... Would you let me now?"

"No," you breathed out, shaky.

Why were you still talking to him? Why were your thighs squeezed shut so hard?

"Mmm, that's what you said last time, and yet look who ended up begging me to fill that little cunt."

Your hand tightened around your phone, the pulsing in between your legs refusing to cease and getting harder to ignore.

"I know you could take it all," he breathed. "All down your pretty throat, no complaints. Would be too busy sucking, right, baby?"

"Why even bother asking?" you whispered, your voice small, like you knew the answer already.

Because you did.

"Makes me hard," Jungkook admitted, shameless. "It's cute to see you struggle. Acting like a frightened little doe, like you weren't waiting for a wolf to eat you up."

The confession was so dirty, nothing short of predatory; but it made your cunt throb and heat stick to your underwear, and you couldn't decide if you were more disturbed by him or by your own reactions.

"Fuck..." he swore hoarsely. "All that screaming and fighting only to end up begging for it. Do you like it forced? No need to think, no need to make choices. Just taking my cock like a good little rape toy, yeah?"

You weren't able to contain the hitch of your breath, thighs quivering and spine tingling all over.

Jungkook moaned softly in response, the sound shooting straight through your pussy.

"Wanna come?"

This wasn't happening.

You were losing grasp of reality, consumed by the need to find a lifeline. You felt like you caught a fever, your reply coming out more mellow than intended.

"No. Please stop."

"You're a bad liar, little doe. Without me your body and soul feel empty. You need me as much as I need you."

Your eyes fell shut. You shook your head, repeating your denial like a prayer.

"No..."

Your brain was running on automatic, trying to hold on to some semblance of rationality.

"Does it make you feel better to say that?" Jungkook muttered. "Wouldn't it be easier to give in? I know how much you wanna sneak your hand into your panties. Go on, baby. Rub all your thoughts away. It will feel so good."

You felt your thighs tremble again, the wetness between them unbearable. It was getting harder to breathe through the rising heat, your mouth falling open, trying to catch more oxygen into your lungs.

"Go on, pretty. I'll come with you... Just say the word."

Yes.

No, that wasn't right.

Please...

"No," you forced out again, something that sounded too much like a whimper. "I'm going. Stop calling me."

Jungkook just sighed.

"Shame. Can you at least move closer to the window? Do a little twirl for me. I missed you so much..."

Your head snapped in the direction of the window, heart jumping in alarm. Jungkook seemed to know; he sounded so amused, like it was all a game. And he was winning.

"Just kidding. I have some things to do, but I will see you soon, baby."

"Jungkook—" you panicked, shaking your head, "please don't—"

"Goodnight. I love you."

Beep.

He hung up.

You hugged your knees and lowered your head onto them, welcoming the darkness that greeted you, eclipsing the faint glow of your nightlight.

Was this your fault? You were in pieces for so long; surely that must have been to blame for the sickening pull you felt to answer the phone every time he called.

Maybe that was how Jungkook had managed to get to you. Slithered in through the cracks, took advantage of all the empty spaces. Poured himself in like poison, down to the last drop. Maybe that was also why he needed you so much; there was nothing left of him but you.

You let yourself slump onto the bed, probably the last time you'd be able to sleep through the night somewhat calmly. Because when Jungkook said soon... he always meant soon.

And the clock refused to stop ticking.

taglist 💌: @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @crisle19 @jksteponme @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @dolphinmochi

#sorry to those I couldn't tag! ❤️#anyway lmao #dead dove #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts yandere #jungkook smut

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molinaskies · 8 months

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What We Get Wrong About Dark Sonic

I find Dark Sonic incredibly interesting.

I’ve said this before, but Dark Sonic represents an overflow of Sonic’s negative emotions, the ones he usually suppresses: anger, sadness, and fear.

However, many people believe that Dark Sonic is somehow a betrayal of Sonic as a character (even Ian Flynn, reportedly, but I’ve yet to see an official source). Sonic is meant to be a beacon of optimism. Sonic is meant to be the pillar of hope when all else fails. Sonic is meant to be the last one standing, no matter what.

In this sense, sure, Dark Sonic contradicts the notion that Sonic is “uncorruptable,” but I think that depends on how we define corruption.

I see it two ways:

1) Corruption by way of losing faith, through dishonesty and fraud. 2) Corruption by way of a forceful shift from one state of being to another.

In the first sense, corruption occurs when someone’s paradigm is shifted through lies, cheating, or manipulation. It’s a conscious mental shift. In the second sense, corruption occurs when something (or someone) is co-opted and changed without its will or influence, like data corruption, or a shift in the meaning of a word or image. It’s a literal, physical and/or metaphysical shift.

There’s a saying that floats around the fandom that says, “Shadow is just ‘Sonic, if Sonic had one really bad day’,” and I think that makes sense. Shadow is jaded and cynical because of how the world has hurt him, but he still wants to do right by people—just like Sonic. What separates Sonic from Shadow, however, is Sonic’s tenant optimism and positive paradigm. Without those differences, Sonic has endless reasons to be as cynical as Shadow, or even more so.

So, Sonic doesn’t let himself feel those feelings for very long, and especially not when other people are around. He pours everything into a clean, neat bottle, with a tight screw-on cap, right?

What happens when something tampers with that bottle?

Dark Sonic is a forceful corruption of body but not of mind. Let’s talk about it.

How Dark Sonic Works

What I think people misunderstand most about Dark Sonic is that it’s not an intentional state of being. It never was.

Dark Sonic is the polar opposite to Super Sonic, which is achieved when Sonic harnesses the positive energy of the Chaos Emeralds. If Sonic wanted to harness the power of the emeralds for the wrong reasons and his heart accessed the negative energy rather than the positive, he could possibly bring about Dark Sonic willingly. This, however, would likely never happen because that is the betrayal of Sonic’s character that everyone worries about.

That said, the only reason Dark Sonic ever appears is because of a mix of Sonic’s pure rage over Black Narcissist physically assaulting Chris and Cosmo and the presence of hundreds of the Metarex’s fake Chaos Emeralds, which possess an aura clearly shown to impact Sonic and make him ill.

Sonic’s first interaction with negative Chaos energy from the fake emeralds is filled with discomfort and even disgust. Sonic reacting to the negative Chaos energy poorly is critical, as it showcases that it’s seeking him out, not vice versa.

When Sonic was as triggered as he was, the negative energy from the fakes harnessed his emotions and corrupted him. It was a complete, freak accident.

This situation is very similar to Darkspine Sonic, the in-game equivalent to Dark Sonic from Sonic and the Secret Rings. Darkspine Sonic only surfaces when Sonic is severely triggered after Shahra starts to betray him, Erazor Djinn murders her (she sacrifices herself for Sonic), and he sees Erazor Djinn’s final form about to destroy the storybook world. In his shock and anger, the Secret Rings of Sadness, Rage, and Hate target him, painfully turning him into Darkspine Sonic. Once again, external energies corrupt him at the height of his emotional vulnerability.

Sonic never seeks out the negative energy of the Chaos Emeralds because his heart is good. When the negative energy seeks him out in such overwhelming waves, it corrupts his abilities, alters them, and pulls them out to play.

But—

If it’s simply a matter of fake Chaos Emeralds, then why can Sonic use Tails’ fake Chaos Emerald in Sonic Adventure 2 without any problems? I posit this to the fact that Tails might have a better understanding of the balanced nature of the Chaos Emeralds (in that they are powered by both good and evil), while Eggman and Dark Oak have only ever used (or desired to use) the Chaos Emeralds for evil.

Recall Eggman’s laser at the beginning of Sonic Unleashed and Perfect Chaos in Sonic Adventure. Both uses of the chaos emeralds drained them of their power—their negative power, that is. (Albeit through different means based on the lore of each game), Sonic is still able to restore and harness the emeralds’ power because he relies on the positive energy of the emeralds. As intelligent as he is, I imagine that Eggman (as well as the Metarex) has a hard time replicating the intricate nature and balance of the Chaos Emeralds because their hearts are filled with hatred and turmoil, so unwilling to heed the perspectives of others. The power is there, sure, but not the heart.

~Chaos is power. Power is enriched by the heart~

Tikal's Prayer

I think the difference between Tails’ fake emerald and every other fake emerald we’ve seen in canon is marked by the fact that both Eggman’s and the Metarex’s fakes disintegrate after excessive use (i.e., Chaos Control), but Tails’ fake remains intact.

The Metarex's emerald disintegrates upon excessive use

Eggman's fake emeralds can't hold their form upon excessive use

Tails' fake emerald is intact and ultimately used to stop the Eclipse Canon from firing

In short, Tails’ emerald is simply a better fake, more accurate to the originals.

also, I refuse to talk about how dumb it is that Sonic was able to use a fake Chaos Emerald to do Chaos Control for the first time. However, it is canon, and therefore relevant to my point.

Another key problem cited in Sonic X is just how many fake emeralds there are. One emerald pales in comparison to hundreds. Sonic feels all the latent negative energy consume him because that energy is a corruption, itself.

It’s not that Sonic gets so angry that he just gives in to darkness, it’s that darkness captures him when he’s in extreme emotional distress and his guard is down. Dark Sonic is the result of negative, unstable, potent Chaos energy clinging to him, using his latent Chaos powers as a vessel when he least expects it and, thus, is powerless against it.

I think I can best prove this by contrasting Dark Sonic with Sonic’s other intimate encounter with darkness…

Sonic Unleashed, Dark Gaia, and the Werehog

I’ve spoken at length about this game and this specific scene, already, so kindly forgive my hyper-brief summary this time around!

When Dark Gaia’s “weight issues” cause its essence to disperse around the globe, many people fall influence to Dark Gaia’s despair, losing faith and hope in the world. Nothing like the influences of Chaos energy, but enough of an influence that much of the world feels it. A core aspect of the game’s plot is that Sonic, distinctly, does not. In the cutscene No Reason, Sonic asks Chip why he stays the same despite the darkness inside his heart while so many others change at night. Chip answers simply, saying that Sonic’s too strong to lose himself and that part of his good will is because he never doubts himself, even when he’s on his own.

The difference is that while Sonic undergoes a physical transformation, he never loses faith or gives up hope—made especially clear by the fact that Professor Pickle, once as hopeful as Sonic, eventually does lose hope.

Also key to note that Amy also never loses hope.

Unleashed is just another fun, high-stakes adventure for Sonic; there’s never a moment where he’s aggressively triggered by something or when his personal morals are ever tainted. Irritated, maybe. Flustered, even. Never at a loss. The closest we see Sonic come to this is when he loses the werehog form to Dark Gaia before the final battle. He falls to his knees, worn and exhausted, and tells Chip to run because he doesn’t want him to get caught up in the mess. Yet even then he’s not giving up.

That’s why Sonic’s heightened emotional state is so important to the conversation. When Sonic’s will is intact, he’s much stronger, but when he’s triggered by something and his defences are down, it’s much easier for corrupting forces around him to take hold.

Mind over Matter

Even with the parameters for Dark Sonic’s appearance established, something that stands out to me about Sonic’s encounters with dark energies, and something I see as additional evidence that Dark Sonic is only a literal, physical corruption and not a corruption of his paradigm, is that Sonic is still in control of himself—to an extent.

Even as he seethes in his amplified rage, Dark Sonic never inflicts harm on the innocent. After Gold and Silver are destroyed, it’s not expressly clear if Sonic intends to stop or fight Black Narcissist, but Eggman implies that Sonic was fighting Gold and Silver until there was quite literally nothing left. Sonic was given a target to attack, and he kept his focus there, even when other enemies presented themselves.

This also goes for the Werehog and Darkspine Sonic.

He also has the mind to listen to reason—from Eggman, of all people—and stop when it’s clear that he’s finished what he set out to do. Sonic channels his anger to where it needs to be, and it’s clear that Sonic’s moral code and paradigm on life are thoroughly intact.

The only thing that changes is that he’s no longer imposing his usual limits. Sonic is stupidly powerful, even without any power ups. If he ever wanted to kill Eggman, he would have by now. If he ever wanted to kill anyone, he would have by now (and technically, he has).

Sonic throws Erazor Djinn's lamp into a pit, never to resurface, effectively trapping him and ending his livelihood indefinitely.

However, Sonic holds back because he doesn’t want to be an arbiter of justice—he doesn’t want to deprive someone’s chance to be good unless it’s been clear that they cannot be redeemed.

Why I Care About This

It is no secret that I believe that Sonic is a highly emotional character—far more emotional than many give him credit for. It bears repeating that Sonic’s emotions are very big and can be cataclysmic when left unchecked…

…but that’s just part of growing up—growing up as a hero and, damn it, even just a kid.

Dark Sonic isn’t a case of Sonic giving himself to darkness, nor is it a perversion of Sonic’s character. It’s an energetic, chaotically-charged version of Sonic when he is at his angriest—and even then it’s not enough to change his morals or make him lash out unjustly.

Dark Sonic is cathartic, in a way, and I definitely think it deserves its place in canon.

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alyakthedorklord · 10 months

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Dead on Main Soulmate AU

First words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin. Jason didn’t understand his for a long time- it looks like an insult, but he has absolutely no idea what it means, both before and after his death.

Eventually, it starts to make a slight bit more sense as Trendy Lingo advanced, and he hears Steph and Tim and some other teens using something similar. Still, he doesn’t understand why they’re said, and so Jason is completely unprepared for when he’s approached randomly by some guy while walking down the street after a particularly violent pit rage.

“Sir, your vibes are rancid.”

Jason freezes. The pit writhes in offense, because what the fuck, but at the same time his heart is beating out of his chest, because what the fuck?

“Oh ancients that sounded rude.” The guy says, eyes widening like he can’t believe he said that. “I mean- I just- are you okay? You don’t feel okay. You feel really, really sick, like your soul got marinated in corrupted ecto, and do you want help?”

Jason keeps staring. The guy is cute, dark hair and blue eyes that seem just a bit too bright to be human, freckles disappearing behind an embarrassed flush.

“I don’t want to overstep, because you’re giving off a whole lot of “fuck off don’t talk to me”, but I didn’t wanna just ignore you because I’m pretty sure a lot of the anger and bad vibes are coming from the corrupted stuff and I’m pretty sure I can help with that? If you don’t want help just tell me to fuck off or punch me in the face and I’ll leave but-”

The stranger takes a nervous step away, and Jason lunges forwards before he can think, everything in him rebelling at the thought of his soulmate leaving, from his own thoughts to the pits themselves.

“Please don’t leave.” He gasps, hands squeezed tight to his soulmates arm despite the twinge of pain from his bloodied knuckles. His soulmate’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropped open, before he breaks into a bright, amazed grin.

“I won’t, I promise.” His soulmate says, reaching up to hold onto Jason’s arms in turn. His touch is cold, even through Jason’s jacket. “I’m staying right here.”

Jason leans into the touch, sagging with relief. He can feel the pits receding, the anger and pain and fear fading as his soulmate gently runs his hand over his back.

He feels, for the first time in a long time, at peace.

“…seriously though, wtf happened to you, you reek of bad death juice.”

#dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #dead on main #soulmate au #they are both so confused #bb jason and bruce tried to ‘decode’ the soulwords #to no avail #meanwhile danny’s looking at his like #‘‘I’m gonna be some traveling ROUGE omg’’

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lenaellsi · 1 month

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if you take "I can make a difference" at face value you simply must also consider "you're the bad guys.” like they are both vital aspects of aziraphale's decision. the problem is not just aziraphale's attempt to lead a corrupt system, it is also his continued belief in the superiority of heaven and angels over hell and demons. that's why crowley was so hurt. it's not just a miscommunication, or a disagreement on the practicalities of changing hearts and minds in heaven--it is a fundamental misunderstanding of morality and of crowley as a person. if crowley had asked aziraphale to come to hell to help fix it and protect the earth, he would not have gone. he says so. it’s not just about safety, or reform. it is about being Good.

and all of this happens because aziraphale is not just motivated by fear and love: he is also motivated by shame. he is insecure in his identity as an angel and a Good Guy, and both his alienation from heaven and his relationship with crowley have always aggravated this insecurity. it’s why shax’s mockery hit him so hard, and why he’s so susceptible to manipulation from the metatron. he desperately wants to be taken seriously and treated with respect and to have power and be an uncomplicated Good Guy, and that is just as much of a motivating factor in his decision as his desire to protect humanity and crowley.

and re: “appoint you to be an angel”: I know people want to insist that aziraphale has never wanted to change anything about crowley, but I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’s true. over and over in season 2 aziraphale demonstrates a desire to sand the rough edges off people and things for the sake of the Greater Good, without consideration for the free will or complex emotions of others. obviously this tendency culminates in the ball, where he exerts control over all of the humans to make everything perfect for maggie and nina, and in doing so, infringes on their autonomy and nina’s (crowley’s narrative mirror!) capacity to feel her own anger and sadness. and he has never liked that crowley is a demon. in his mind, the problem has always been that crowley was put in the wrong category, not that the entire system of dividing people and angels into Good and Bad is ridiculous. that’s the exact lesson he needs to learn.

and yes, his intentions are good, absolutely. I don’t think aziraphale ever acts out of malice, and I do think he genuinely wants the best for the people around him, particularly crowley. after all, if crowley is accepted as an angel again, as aziraphale has always secretly considered him to be, their relationship can (in his mind) finally stop being so fraught with danger and conflict. (the other side of that, of course, is that aziraphale can also stop being so ashamed for loving someone who is supposed to be Bad, and everything in his life will make sense again, the way it hasn’t since he met that star maker who got so upset about god’s plan.)

but that’s not who crowley is, and it never has been. even before he fell, crowley’s recklessness and relentless questions made aziraphale uncomfortable. their relationship has never been safe or easy, and in wanting to make it so, aziraphale is demonstrating a desire to change the parts of crowley that led to his fall, whether he intends to or not.

I’m rambling, but the point is: the insistence on reframing this moment as a purely selfless, calculated, self-sacrificing decision by aziraphale to protect crowley and the world ignores the uglier parts of the things he said in order to make their eventual reconciliation less complicated, and it’s really frustrating to me. crowley is in fact right to be upset by what he said, and it’s not just a misunderstanding that can be fixed with aziraphale saying “I was only trying to protect you!” and another kiss. it’s a culmination of all of the double think aziraphale has been doing in order to preserve his vision of heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good since before the beginning of time, and it’s time for him to finally unpack it.

(and because every post on the final fifteen needs a disclaimer: aziraphale is trying his best and has an incredible amount of love in his heart and wants so badly to do good and ALSO the things he says, does, and believes can be incredibly hurtful and destructive. all of these things can be true.)

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #final fifteen #good omens meta #good omens 2 #long post

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your-friendly-sociopath · 3 months

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I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

#yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #yandere alastor x reader

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