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cherubfae · 2 months

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love letters || hazbin x reader

with Alastor, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, & Vox!

You think you're being sooo sneaky leaving all these sweet love letters for your favorite guy. You're not. They 100% know but if they'll do anything about it is another question entirely.

tags: gn!reader! but implied male/masc reader for Angel ofc :3 mostly fluff!! mildly suggestive in Luci's & Vox's, slight angst for Angel, mention of alcohol consumption in Husk's! Alastor being his usual self lmao

Alastor

You must think you are quite the clever little thing, leaving such sweet notes around for anyone to find. Little letters you think he doesn't know come from you. His shadows haunt every crevice aware of all that goes on within the hotel's interior, and especially those that dwell within his radio tower. It is amusing watching you slither into his abode to leave yet another sweetly decorated note on his control panel while Alastor lurks within the darker corners of his tower. Scarlet eyes soaking you in like a lion hunting a gazelle.

Then, like smoke, you slip out the hatch and down the ladder towards the hotel as quickly as death. Trying to seem casual, whistling an off-key tune.

Curious, he grins. What a curious creature you are, hmm? He picks the letter up, his red claw caressing the crease of the seal. His name stares up at him, written in exquisite cursive and emboldened red ink he wished was blood.

With a single claw he slits open the top of the envelope with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, withdrawing its contents that had piqued his interest. Immediately, his smirk widens. Positively Cheshire-like.

"My, my, darling. You are endearing, I hope you know that!" Alastor cooed with crackling static. He traced his finger along the penmanship.

He pictures you hunched over your desk fretting over such a delicate piece of stationery. Your words oozed admiration for the Radio Demon. How truly touching! The sentiment was most definitely mutual. Next time, he'll be sure to catch you in the act, little lamb.

Lucifer

The King of Hell was quick to move in upon Charlie's insistence. Eager to make up for lost time with his daughter, he takes on all sorts of tasks and attends every event she has planned. Every team-building exercise, there was Lucifer at the forefront; lest his rubber duck depression returned.

Initially, he's quite confused by the sight of a white and gold foiled envelope placed neatly on the center of his pillow when he returns to his quarters to rest. He's never seen his name written with such care. The scent of love and genuine fondness exudes from the small parcel and tempts his senses. It catches him off guard, a puff of hot air escaping his lips, blinking owlishly.

He's lightheaded as he reads the letter with one hand braced against the wall beside him. An apple-red blush coats his cheeks and creeps down his neck. The scent of you clouds his mind and corrupts his thoughts. He's starting to feel dizzy yet oh-so-happy!

You... You wrote this didn't you, sweetling? Red eyes wash over the page. He closes his eyes and presses the letter to his lips as he leans his back into the wall. It's surely from you, but why didn't you just come and talk to him instead of being all mysterious and cryptic? Has he not made his affections for you clear enough? Perhaps you were shy and felt more confident in staying anonymous.

Lucifer couldn't promise you or himself that he wouldn't go and find you immediately after he calmed down enough to be well-composed in a public space. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Shaking out his hands and jumping in place, Lucifer straightens his tie. If all goes to plan, he'll have you snuggled in his warm embrace as he flies over Pentagram City before sundown.

Of course, he will make sure all six of his massive wings are preened and looking their best first. Hey, he is the King of Hell after all! He's gonna show off for you a little.

"Alright, darlin', I hope you're ready for a night on the town." Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and exited his room swiftly making his way to you.

Sir Pentious

Sweet man is so flabbergasted! Surely this is a prank, yes? No? Oh my, then that must mean--! His pupils dilate and water, a big cheesy grin sneaks across his cheeks. His tail swishes behind him lightly and it's hard to fight the blush off his cheeks. It takes everything in him to collect his breath as he clutches the letter to his chest.

"What'cha got there, boss?" Points out one of his Egg Bois. Sir Pentious all but squeaks and shoves the paper unceremoniously into his breast pocket.

Pentious rasps, "No-nothing that needs to concern you!"

"Oh, okay!" Chirps his Egg Boi, waddling off.

Sir Pentious sighs, slitted eyes wander over to where you sit at the bar engaged in deep conversation with Angel and Husk. There's a weird tug in his chest he's never felt before. A longing. You catch his eye and give a gentle smile and offer him a tiny wave which he returns eagerly. He sighs dreamily, coiling in on his tails. I hope I may catch you at a more opportune time, my heart.

Angel Dust

Whenever he's had a particularly rough night at Valentino's, Angel retrieves a pastel blue shoe box from deep within his closest, almost completely filled to the brim with letters, gifts, and keepsakes you'd given him. Even the silly little half-assed doodle you made of him as a spider. He saved it all.

You're so cute, thinking that you're all anonymous when you are absolutely not, leaving him the cutest fuckin' letters that make him want to explode. It's nice. Having someone want you and not for sex. The pure heart of gold of yours was gonna be the double-death of him.

Angel hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask you out yet. It's something he ponders every day, especially when reading your newest letter. He feels too stuck, too... Fucked up. That's not something he'd wanna put on you. You've never treated him like anything but a person. You saw the real him.

Instead, he lives for your letters. Wishing things could be different, that he could find the power to cut the contract with Valentino, and truly become yours when he's no longer that fucker's pet.

His eyes well with tears as he cradles your latest letter, praising him for how well he'd done at Charlie's little team-building experiment. He pretends it's you that he's holding. His fingers combing through your hair, smiling to himself when you lazily lean up his body to kiss him ever-so-softly. A true kiss made of real love, not lust. You snuggle into his chest fluff with your arms around his waist.

"Baby, I," with a blink, Angel is back to reality. The weight on his chest had only been a snoozing Fat Nuggets. Angel sighs, stroking his little buddy's ears. "Maybe one day, I can be strong enough for both of us, baby." He says out loud, hoping your heart will find his words.

Husk

He's quick to snatch the new letter up before anyone else sees, sending his half-drunk whiskey all across the countertop with a clang. Husk cussed under his breath, stashing your thankfully dry letter beneath the bar for safe-keeping until he could read it later.

"Why'dja gotta leave it out in the open?" Husk grumbles without malice. The playful sway of his raised feathery tail and soft hum as he wipes up his spilled drink was always a good sign of his rare, pleasant mood.

You're growing more and more bold with each letter. Leaving them places where someone other than Husk could accidentally misinterpret them: Charlie.

The last thing he needed was the well-meaning Princess of Hell to overextend herself and start playing matchmaker. Husker was doing just aces on his own. His love life was his and his alone to fuss about. He finished cleaning up the bar for the night, keeping the booze secure in its display case until the following day.

Husk peruses the letter freely in the privacy of his bedroom, one arm folded beneath his head. His golden eyes flicked from word to word. His pupils expand as he exhales an airy chuckle, lingering on the word handsome. The sound of his own trill rumbling in his throat startles him enough to drop the letter and slam his elbow into his nightstand.

Hissing, Husk pressed his palms against his shut eyelids. "Fuck, baby, ya really got this ol' cat comin' undone, huh? Sneaky little minx." He lied back down with a huff. "If only ya knew." His eyes slip shut. Tomorrow. Husk would finally approach you tomorrow.

Vox

"I see you still don't wanna text these, huh, baby?" Vox scoops up the letter taking residence on his seat, hastily clawing it open. He plops down on his chair, leaning back. "Too shy to be so vulnerable for me?" Vox's sharp-toothed grin spreads wide across his display screen, red dripping from the corner of his mouth as he hungrily drinks in your words.

"You are too fuckin' cute, aren't'cha, darlin'?" Vox chuckles, smashing his fist against his console with triumph. A bolt of electricity spirals around the system, causing him to yelp as it spans across the entire city. He created another blackout. "FUCK."

Vox is at your doorstep in a matter of minutes despite the darkness of Pentagram City. The forever-flushed red sky is light enough to find your apartment building. He's dressed in a new suit and feigned ignorance when you opened your door, holding a new letter. Surprised to see him there. Hah, caught with your hand in the fuckin' cookie jar, babe.

Allowing him into your home, Vox easily towers over you with a big grin. You looked fuckin' adorable, staring up at him so meekly.

"You didn't need to hide your feelings from me, sweetheart." He gently tilts your chin upwards. A single cyan claw grazes the line of your jaw, sliding to cup your cheek with his full palm.

"Vox, I," you stammer. Your sentence goes no further than those two small words. Vox traces your lower lip with the tip of his sharp thumb, smiling as your eyes flutter shut. He waits to see if you continue to speak and when you don't, he nods and tugs you to him by your hips. You gasp against him and he smiles, a bit softer now.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"I know, baby. I've gotcha," Vox's mouth presses tight to yours, lifting you up further into his arms for better access. Electricity soon ignites the house and city, Velvette must've gotten things running again.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #cherubfae 2024

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martian-astro · 1 month

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Solar return observations

(the artist is @eb_hua on twitter)

Saturn in 10th is a frustrating placement (my mom had it last year and basically with this you feel financially helpless, you keep on trying and trying but nothing works, but the good thing is that 2-3 months before your next birthday, you're gonna hit the jackpot, so don't worry too much) (my sister also has it this year)

I have noticed that in every solar return chart that I've looked at, the chiron was in conjunction with the north node and it has happened way too many times for me to call it a coincidence. (do you have it as well, let me know) (according to my observations, the house that it's in represents the area where you'll experience pain but also by the end of the year, you're gonna be able to deal with the themes of that house in a better way, am I making sense??) just let me know if you have any questions about this placement, I think it's very common

The year in which you have a gemini AC, you will focus a lot on building your professional network, a lot of communication, short distance travel and improving your relationship with your siblings, if you have any. (my sister has it this year and her master's will end on 29th April, she has applied to many places for a job and she's also coming to visit me, I'M GOING TO MEET HER AFTER 5 FUCKING YEARS😁😁)

Mars in 12th indicates a low libido, a very exhausting year in general, if you also have sun in 1st then... It can be pretty bad (it's like you KNOW that you need to stop procrastinating, but you really can't help it, so you look calm on the outside but your brain is like AKDHSGHSKGSKJDJK)

Jupiter in 10th in aries is a REALLY GOOD placement. (you get the courage to go after what you want, especially in terms of career) and if Jupiter is Trine/sextile with saturn, then it's even better

Uranus in 5th can mean having flings with people that are not your usual type. (one of my friends came to Italy this year, and the first thing she did was hook up with an Italian guy 😭😭, she's Indian)

Aries in 2nd is an impulsive shopping placement (if you have it and you think you need something, you don't) (one of my friends had this last year and he bought a hat for €150...... Yeah. He has saturn in 2nd this year and he's finally facing the consequences of his actions)

I know that saturn in 8th is associated with difficulties in sex and intimacy but there's another side to it (a lot of my friends have had this, and they became really mature about sexual matters, like if they were previously very into the hook up culture then that year they were more cautious and had this "I'm going to have sex with the person who I genuinely like or love" mentality)

This is very shocking but I looked at the solar returns of all the married couples I know and the year in which they got married, NONE OF THEM had a 7th house stellium 💀💀. For men, I didn't notice a pattern, but for women, 90% of them had Venus positively aspecting saturn (mostly, Trine and sextile but 2 had a conjunction)

My favorite solar return placement has to be mercury conjunct Jupiter, if its happening in capricorn or virgo, then you're really precise and direct with your words, a very leader type aura for that year. If it's in libra, then good for flirting and talking to your crush, there's a high chance they'll fall for your charms. If it's in pisces, then it's your sign to start a cult.

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

#astrology content #astrology #astroblr #astrology community #solar return observations #solar return chart #solar return #astrology observations

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nymphoheretic · 1 year

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Guess who's back?

Synopsis: It's been years since you last seen Gojo. You forgot how utterly big he was compared to you. Forgot that he literally has the strength to manhandle you into whatever position he wanted. He'd let you think that you were in control, but he's been gone far too long. And he missed your sweetness.

Warnings: Gojo being the annoying menace he is, manhandling, smut, breeding press, mentioning of multiple positions

Word count: ~.04k

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader

Sweat glistens as it rolls down from your forehead, down the side of your face to pool in the crevices of your shoulder and collarbone. How long has it been since this snowy-haired menace showed up in your bedroom after being gone for so long?

You couldn't remember. Couldn't do anything except dig your nails into his back as he thrusts so deeply into you, the swollen tip of his cock pressing so snugly against the gummy spot inside.

You could barely think – couldn't concentrate on anything except the way those glowing icy blues stare into your soul as he grabs your chin and kisses your swollen lips, tongue pushing past to flirt with yours. Your back arches off the bed, but you are quickly pushed back down by his large hands pressing down on your belly.

A loud moan escapes from that feeling of him pushing down on the exact spot where you could feel him the deepest at as he gives slow, precise thrusts, each one feeling better than the last. A smirk finds its way to his lips as he gazes down at you. A warm, tender hand caresses your cheek, cupping it as he makes you look up at him.

"You missed me?" Gojo whispers, hips never stopping their motions and picking up in pace. He made it impossible for you to speak – to think clearly. Because he wasn't talking to you. "I know you did. Just look at how wet you are. You're just a sloppy mess for me." His words were directed to your pussy.

His thumb finds that slick little pearl and flicks over it softly. He watches as your try to squirm away and that only makes him go even harder. How many positions did he put you in?

Doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, 69, full Nelson, wheelbarrow...so many positions....but now he has you in his favorite one. A breeding press.

Gojo wraps his hands around your thighs, folding your knees to your chest. "Be a good girl and cream my cock, yeah?"

And you did just that. Unable to hold back any longer. Pussy fluttering around him as your dig your nails into the flesh of his thick biceps. A mewl of his name falling from your lips. "Satoru..."

"That's it, baby. Keep moaning my name. I'm not going anywhere for a very long time."

Please ignore this. It was a moment of weakness. It shall never happen again. I am an avid bully of one Satoru Gojo. He is and forever will be my pillow princess. But as batman once said: everybody gets one....

Tagging: @sugardaddyreo @kirbyskisses @linpunny @noritopia @sailewhoremoon @tokyometronetwork @ichisagi

#nymphomanic♡#gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #satoru smut #gojou satoru x y/n

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totalswag · 3 months

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can i req something about rafe and crybaby!reader whos just been very clingy and needy for him !

maybe they’re out with a few of rafe’s friends and she became all clingy and snuggling up to rafe :( he obviously knows what she needs but he told her to behave and only teases her !! ofc rafe could never neglect his baby though so it always ends with him giving her exactly what she needs while shes all overwhelmed and many sobs :( <3

want to be close to you — RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you love for this cute request! i hope you like it and its what you hoped. this is very short and compared to what i'm used to. i'm still getting the rafe series masterlist set up too. huge thank you for 500+ followers you guys are amazing ugh.

request are closed.

summary you just want to be close to your boyfriend at a friend gathering.

warnings clingy, cursing, crying, playful teasing

Rafe, you, and a few of his buddies were drinking and catching up at a little bar in town. You spent the entire time next to Rafe, either on the phone or conversing with the other guys.

It was becoming late, and you were getting exhausted. Rafe kept his hand on your leg throughout the night, periodically guiding it up and down to keep you relaxed.

You snuggle closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms over his side and laying your head against his chest, essentially obscuring your face. You felt your body relax instantaneously, remaining precisely where it was.

Naturally you are cuddly person, especially with Rafe. So when you start to show your clingy side he knows what you want and need. He doesn't mind it, actually finds it adorable.

During a conversation with the guys, he notices your clingy side beginning to show. He smiles, pulling you closer to him and kisses the top of your head.

"Please behave yourself, babe," he taunts, poking your side jokingly, making you side-eye him.

This is the kind of stuff that irritates you when he starts taunting you about being clingy. Tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes, and you try to blink many times to keep them from spilling down. Rafe does not mean to be harsh; in fact, he thinks it's adorable that you enjoy being near him.

"I just want to be close to you though" you pout, whining.

"I know you do baby, I think we are close enough right now" he smiles.

A huff escapes from your mouth, pulling yourself away from his body, folding your arms infant of your chest, then walking towards the bathroom to gather yourself before you start crying in a bar.

Rafe's footsteps could be heard behind you. As he got closer, you walked faster. People were staring, then returning to whatever they were doing.

"Baby, I was just joking with you," he says, holding your hand, "you know that," as you turn around to face him.

His expression falls when he notices tears gathering in your eyes. Rafe never intended to offend you or your feelings in general. He would never disregard you in any shape or form.

You move your head to the side, keeping your sad eyes away from Rafe.

"No, look at me, please," he said, lifting your chin with his pointer finger and wiping a few tears from your cheeks. "Let's go home and spend the rest of the night cuddled up under the covers watching movies with your favorite snacks," a smile spreads across your lips, and you slowly nod.

Rafe places both hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently with his thumbs before leaning in to kiss you.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks

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honeybee-deepsea-kitty · 2 years

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I’ve been consuming too much Star Wars content lately, so far as I’m aware the darksaber is the only black lightsaber. It was created by the first Mandalorian Jedi and is an important symbol of the right to rule.

Gotta agree summer is exhausting. Love the increased chance of sunshine but when it’s hot it’s intolerable.

What colours have you dyed your hair so far? Would you rather have horns or fangs? Ideal Halloween costume if you had unlimited budget? What would your go to karaoke song be?

- 🤓 anon

Ah I see you are also a nerd. Nerds are the best!

Like the sun is better for mental health, but the heat is a killer.

Let's see; light pink, dark purple, dark green, red in many variations(I'm not a big fan of the natural red I have s fire a long long time I'd darken it) black obviously, indego, something that was called sapphire but just looked like a basic blue. Different variations of natural browns, and as a child my mom used to kind of bleach my hair (I hated being a blonde though)

The idea of fangs appeals to me but I'm a bitey person and I'd really hate to hurt anyone in trying to be playful. So horns, one of my fav pictures I've taken of myself was in these cute horns I bought from a Ren faire.

Unlimited budget hmm... Literally the most cringiest cat girl ever moving tails and ears all that. No seriously It'd probably more like cosplay because I'd want to do Ahri, the nine tailed fox (league of legends) Probably the fox fire or popstar versions of her. Those styles would be cool as fuck to try and pull off. But also the amount of detail I could go into with an unlimited budget would be insane. The thought excites the artist in me.

Oh music... Ha I'm sooo obsessed with so much music it could pretty much be anything. But I'm going to give you actual answers so.... Here's a short list of songs I'd kill in karaoke.

This is one of my favorite fall out boy songs and really I could probably sing anything by that band but this one! I'd sing I'd dance it would be a show.

I was stuck between a few songs by Icon for hire but there's a special place in my heart for this song.

This song uhhh it's so good. Seeing it live was seriously the best thing ever.

This is my all time favorite song. It touches in my heart in such a way.

This goes without explanation

And this one's a comfort song.

#asks #nerds are my people truly #like im a nerd in my own right and i know it #just about alot of different things than my nerd friends which is cool because learning #one day i would like to make my hair look like a sunset because colors of the sky during those times are art #id dedicate my hair to my mom jokingly... shes the sunset picture lady around here. her photos have actually been published. which is cool #though half head hair colors would be cool too like half black half blue or something #i would like to get bigger horns one day #and even with the costumes id want to be super precise. the tails move a certain way depending on movements #theyflow one way when relaxed. and move back a way when walking or running. same with the ears #but also her outfits for those particular skins appeal to me #initially I was going to say midnight Ahri but changed my mind #ideally one day i will cosplay her and Ashe the frist archer. whose another league champion #Ashe was one of the first champs i played when i started playing league back in like uhhh 2012 #shes literally one of my favs still though #giving actual links to songs so you can listen and enjoy #hell I could give you my Spotify playlist which is like 5000 songs or something i could sing any if those songs.#ideally I'd want to sing run devil run by girls generation.l'd have to learn to sing it since its a kpop song and id want to do it justice.#such is the case withy other favorite kpop songs #i could sing any mcr but dead is fun #this answer post would be sooooooo long if i listed all the songs I'd kill on karaoke for real #special mention to black Cadillac by Shinedown I was also going to link it then forgot so doing it now at a later time seems insulting #probably going to just link it on its own thing but i love it #heres a long as answer ha!#i was also going to link photos to ahri but that would be such a big answer and it makes me nervous.#also because i forgot #thanks anon friend 🤓#todays weird lol

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talesofesther · 3 months

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when the world sleeps | the stitches

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Small tales of private and precious moments shared with Astarion, when the world still sleeps.

Today's tale: You're trying to stitch back together your shirt, Astarion must intervene to save the day.

A/N: A collection of little stories that will be released sporadically, in no particular order. A place for me to store all the sweet little ideas that lurk in my mind about this darling pale elf. Feel free to send requests for any moments you'd like to see. <3

Masterlist

It was an accident. A split second of distraction that got the blade of your enemy slashing into you. It cut through more cloth than skin, you didn't even need a healing potion. But it was your favorite shirt.

You've never been very adept with the needle and thread. Having lived your whole life with the privileges that rested inside your family's estate back in the city, you didn't have much need to mend your own clothes back together whenever they tore apart.

And now you were paying the price for the unlearned skill.

The night was quiet, most of your companions had already retired for the night. Yet you sat crosslegged on a large pillow in your tent, soft candlelight illuminating just enough so you wouldn't prick your fingers.

Scratch insisted on laying beside you, his soft white fur warm as it rested against your leg.

The silence of the night was most welcome, when the days were as hectic as they have been lately.

As you passed the thread through the fabric of your shirt, needle piercing it quite clumsily, you couldn't help but think the stitches looked too far from each other. Or could it be too close? Should it vary depending on the thickness of the fabric?

"Darling?"

You jumped at the sudden voice—soft as it may have been—yanking the needle back and not piercing your thumb only by an inch. You cursed under your breath.

"What in the hells are you doing?" Astarion's choice of words sounded strange in the tender tone of voice he used.

You looked up to see him staring down at you with a confused frown on his eyebrows. The flickering fire of the candles coming from beside you kissed his features ever so faintly, making him seem like the remains of a dream. Dark red eyes, silver hair that reminded you of stardust. What a goner you were. And to think he chose you, too; if anything to warm his bed on cold nights.

"I'm… mending my shirt," you shrugged, with a sheepish smile on your lips, briefly lifting the shirt and needle in your hands.

Astarion opened his mouth only to close it again. He blinked, and shook his head. "You're doing anything but that." He stated, a little exasperated. "Have you ever done this before?"

You shifted your gaze from him, to the shirt on your hands, and back to him. "… Not really, no."

Astarion scoffed, "Well, clearly not."

"Come on it's not that bad." You raised a brow, finding his indignation at your lack of skills rather amusing.

"Not that bad? That thing is gonna tear itself apart with the first movement of your arms." Astarion gestured wildly as if you'd personally offended him, and started walking to the other side of you that wasn't occupied by Scratch. "Move over," he simply said.

You shuffled to the side a little, giving him space on the fluffy pillow beneath you. It was a tight fit as he sat down, his thigh flush with yours.

"Hand it over." Astarion wiggled his fingers and you did so quietly, handing him your shirt along with the needle and thread.

He mumbled something about basic skills and how you'd be lost without him. You didn't pay much mind to it, instead, you were rather enraptured by the way his fingers worked; precise, gentle, and deftly, with not a single wrong movement as the fabric of your shirt molded between the digits. He sews the pieces together from the inside, the needle hardly piercing, more like caressing its way through. It was evident he had done it many, many times before.

You inched closer, and you only realized you had done so when Astarion's movements halted. Needle hovering in the air as his shoulders tensed. His lips pursed when his throat worked through a gulp. You followed the motion, breath fanning over the skin of his neck, you were almost certain you'd seen goosebumps there.

It was a beat, and then Astarion was back to his work. But it was enough to bloom a warmth to your chest, that maybe you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you asked; "where did you learn to do it so perfectly?"

A quiet chuckle fell past the elf's lips, though it held no amusement. "The clothes we wore were hardly a concern for Cazador, as long as we looked presentable enough to lure people back for him." He frowned, a bitterness flashing through his eyes as his knuckles grew even paler with the way he gripped your shirt, "If we showed up with a torn shirt or ragged pants, that was on us. Even if it were his orders that caused it." The last words were low and forced out, as if the mere thought of them had thrown Astarion back into those dark streets and into the arms of people who didn't care if they ripped him apart.

You wished there was any amount of comfort or honeyed words that you could tell him that would erase the memories altogether. But there wasn't. All you could do was kiss his shoulder and brush your fingers over his arm until his grip relaxed again. Hoping that your love would seep through your pores and melt into his skin.

Astarion leaned the tiniest bit towards you, his lips brushing your hairline in a silent thank you. It felt… strange, how you were able to bring him back from the depths of his mind so easily.

Moments were spent in silence, until the pad of his thumb brushed over the freshly mended corner of your shirt, admiring his work; it was barely perceptive. If you didn't look too closely, you wouldn't even say it had been slashed through with a sword at all.

"Wow, you're good," you whispered, following the same path he had traced with your own fingers. Feeling over the fabric.

A low hum came from the vampire beside you, "I know."

You bit onto your lower lip. Your fingers tangled with his when he didn't pull away, all timid and tentative yet brimming with affection. "Maybe you could teach me someday, and I could mend your clothes for you, too." It went beyond just torn fabric, he knew it, you knew it.

Astarion ducked his head, he hesitated, yet he squeezed your hand quite tightly. "I would like that."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin #when the world sleeps

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explosionkatsu · 2 months

Text

Fulfilling Desires

Human!Alastor x Killer!F!Reader

Warnings: Gores, mention of killing and blood 🩸

Early 1929 - 1930

You were one of the people who were entertained by the Black Tuesday, known as the Stock Market Crash in 1929. You were one of the pessimistic bearish investors who betted against the market making you instantly rich in no time. But after this occurrence, you were somewhat delighted that it didn't cause the ‘Great Depression’ is what they named it. You can still catch a glimpse of how everything went to an ordinary state as if nothing major happened, but the trash and debris around you say otherwise.

As the year 1930 came close, a sudden number of murder cases ascended. You were unbothered by this though.

As the sun began to set, an eerie silence fell over the city streets. The once-bustling roads now lay almost deserted, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle, as if the very air was thick with a sense of fear. Shops and stores, usually open till late, are now closing their shutters and locking up their doors much earlier than usual, as people seek the safety of their homes. The only sounds that could be heard were the rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant hum of the city, almost as if it was holding its breath, waiting for the danger to pass.

You find this odd since you haven't slaughtered anyone for a few months, so it seems like there's another murderer in town. You couldn't help but grin inwardly as you observed the group of people scurry towards the shelter of their homes, seeking refuge from whatever threat or danger loomed in the distance. The sight of their hurried movements and anxious expressions was both amusing and intriguing, and you found yourself quietly contemplating the amount of emotions that must be coursing through their minds at that moment. But it made you question, who is the murderer and what is their purpose.

Well, you know why you slaughter, and you wouldn't even deny the sense of rapture whenever you listen to the cry of your prey who was pleading for mercy. Just thinking back to this made you chuckle.

‘Oh, those poor souls’ You pondered to yourself as you now gazed upon the deserted street of New Orleans, Louisiana.

It's been months since you slaughtered, and you took it upon yourself to take a break after seeing how people do the same measures when you were still active.

Feeling sufficient at glimpsing out of your window, you fixed yourself a hot coffee before resting on one of your cozy settees and shifting on the radio, tuning to your favorite radio host.

Alastor, with a wicked smile on his face, finds it amusing knowing the sudden transformation of a bustling street into a lifeless ghost town. The fear and terror that radiate from every corner of the abandoned street only fuel his twisted sense of pleasure, driving him to keep moving forward with confidence. Nothing and no one can stand in his way as he relishes the power he holds over the once-bustling town.

But it is not yet the time to strike.

"Good evening, wonderful people of New Orleans! As you settle into the comfort of your homes tonight, I do hope that you are all secure and cozy. I cannot wait to share the latest news with you, but before we proceed, I would like to take a moment to express my gratitude to the hardworking authorities. These amazing individuals have been working overtime on some important cases these past few days, and their dedication to keeping us all safe is truly commendable! So, let's give them a big round of applause!" Cue the sound effect. "Now, let's dive into the evening news!" Alastor leaned in closely to the microphone as he spoke. He carefully flipped through the pages of his script, making sure to stay on track with the prepared content. As he read, his rich voice filled his home studio with a sense of confidence. Despite being live on air, Alastor remained calm and composed, delivering each line with precision and clarity.

"Another civilian was found in a gruesome situation in an alleyway near a club. The authorities recognized the body to be Daniel Thompson who's a worker in a men's boutique." Alastor smiled wickedly as he performed his unnatural serious yet saddened voice. "Authorities said they found him with a few of his organs missing, including his heart. Up until now, the perpetrator responsible for the incident is yet to be identified due to insufficient evidence."

Alastor's grin was so wickedly mischievous. As he scrutinized his script, he was transported back in time, reliving every moment with vivid clarity. The words on the page had the power to evoke memories and emotions he felt, almost as if he were living the scenes all over again. Oh, what a pleasure!

Alastor leaned into his microphone, his resonant. "It's truly astounding the thoughts that run through people's minds these days, isn't it?" he mused. "But let's not forget about the safety of those working the night shift. Take extra care on your way home tonight. We don't want any more victims to fall prey to the dangers that lurk in the dark. With that being said, please enjoy this music while I'm off-air! Have a lovely evening everyone."

As soon as Alastor finished his performance, he switched off his microphone and decided to treat his audience with some smooth jazz. After that, he stood up, leaving his script behind in the studio. He walked towards his basement to retrieve a few items that he needed for his later agenda. He carefully checked if everything was secured before speaking, "I'm pretty sure you must be feeling famished by now."

Suddenly, his shadow appeared beside him, grinning playfully. "You know me too well," his shadow replied.

Alastor chuckled at his shadow's response. "Don't worry, we'll be out in a while after I present my final script to the audience," he said confidently, feeling proud of himself.

With that being said after the final music played, Alastor went back to his studio for his final script before bidding goodbye.

Alastor's voice echoed through the microphone, "I'm afraid it is now time for me to leave. Let's give my colleague, the next host, a round of applause. Thank you for listening, and once again, this is your host, Alastor, signing off." With a click, he turned off his on-air light and proceeded to unplug all the devices he had used in his studio.

He then reached for his velvet trench coat, which was hanging on the back of his chair, and put it on. He tipped his black trilby hat and walked towards the door with a small bag on his back. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way out of the studio, leaving behind the dimly lit room, and proceeded to the front door for his next agenda.

It was now 10 pm as he left his home with all the lights switched off. Every step he takes is hushed as he makes his way to the deserted street. He knew that he'd find every drunkard going home at this hour, especially since almost every club was still active at this hour which he was grateful for.

"I'm craving for a woman.." Says his shadow in his head.

Alastor arrived at a well-known club, his heart pounding with excitement. He made his way to a dark corner, where he could observe the establishment without being noticed.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to a group of friends who were leaving the club. Among them was an intoxicated blonde woman who caught his eye. Despite her friends' attempts to convince her to ride with them, she declined and instead began walking away, waving goodbye.

Alastor's heart raced in excitement as he saw his opportunity. He followed the woman from a distance, his footsteps silent as he moved closer. He could hear her soft laughter and the gentle sound of her footsteps on the pavement.

'What an idiot,' Alastor thought to himself as he kept an eye on her.

As he trails her in the shadow, he watches a fleet of police vehicles zoom past without offering any assistance to the vulnerable woman. The sound of their sirens fades away in the distance, leaving her alone and helpless. It's as if they deemed her unworthy of their time and resources. When he finally noticed the coast was clear, he watched her vomit in a nearby alley.

He then began his approach.

"My, my. A pretty woman like you shouldn't be alone at this hour!" Alastor approached the woman with a friendly ambiance. "May I offer you assistance, my dear?" He smiled offering her his hand to hold.

Too drunk, the woman looked at him, captivated by how handsome the man who was willing to help her. Without thinking, she nodded and grabbed his hand. "You look so handsome~"

Alastor chuckled at this, "So I've been told, darling." He responded, ushering her to walk. "May I ask, why a lovely woman like you alone at this hour? Didn't you hear about the murderer on the loose?"

"Nah! I know I'll be fine~" The woman giggled. "Now that you're here. I know you'll protect me~"

"Oh, don't worry darling. I will keep you safe." Alastor smiled.

Guiding her to the unlit alleyway was too easy, especially when the woman suddenly passed out on him. 'This is too easy.' Alastor thought as he smiled viciously.

"Keep an eye on the area. Make sure no one sees." Alastor commanded his shadow who immediately nodded and left.

Of course, without letting any more seconds go by, he put a gag on the woman, as well as blindfolded her eyes.

As he lifted the weight of the woman in his arms, he turned his head and his eyes met yours. A smile played on your lips, and for a moment, the world around him faded away as he felt a small dread over him.

Alastor's smile twitched. 'Fuck' He thought to himself.

You noticed him staring at you with a tense expression. Without a word, you raised your index finger to your lips in a shushing gesture, indicating that he should remain silent. The suddenness of the gesture seemed to surprise him, and he watched as you walked away with a sense of bewilderment, wondering what had just happened.

He now knows who's his next target.

The morning sun shone brightly as you stepped out, breathing in the fresh air. The street was slowly coming to life, with stores opening up and people bustling about. You walked with purpose, your steps confident and elegant.

As you walked, people couldn't help but notice you. Women scanned your outfit as you passed by, admiring your choice of clothing and the way you carried yourself. You were a sight to behold, a true embodiment of grace and poise.

Suddenly, a gloved hand grasped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to see the same man from last night, Alastor, standing before you with a smile on his face.

"What a stunning elegant woman you are," he said, his voice smooth and confident. You giggled in response, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Why, I appreciate the compliment, Sir," you said, slightly bowing your head in acknowledgment.

Alastor watched you with half-lidded eyes, admiring your beauty. "A polite one as well!" he beamed. "What do you say I treat you to breakfast? I couldn't help but admire you from afar as soon as I saw you."

"Aren't you a charmer," you giggled, your hand covering your lips in amusement. "I don't mind the offer."

"Shall we?" Alastor gestured towards the door of the nearby cafe, his eyes never leaving you.

"Why, thank you," you smiled as you entered the establishment with him following close behind.

The sound of smooth jazz filled the cozy and inviting cafe, creating a relaxed atmosphere that put everyone at ease. As you walked in, the patrons briefly looked up from their coffee and newspaper, taking in both you and Alastor's presence before returning to their affairs. The chimes hanging near the door suddenly made a delicate sound, adding to the already pleasant ambiance.

Alastor courteously escorted you to a cozy corner seat in the bustling cafe, carefully selecting a spot where there were fewer people having their breakfast. He pulled out a chair for you and patiently observed as you comfortably settled into it.

"Thank you." You smiled and watched him sit across from you.

As you settled into your seats, a courteous waiter appeared at your table, menus in hand. You both took your time reading the extensive selection of dishes, taking note of the appetizers, entrees, and desserts. After a few minutes, you both decided on your meals and handed the menus back to the waiter, who gracefully took them and jotted down your order. He then returned to you with a small card bearing your table number, ensuring your meals would find their way to the right place.

Alastor's gaze fell upon the withdrawing waiter, his eyes half-lidded as he commented, "Hm. Such a nice young lady." His voice carried a sense of intrigue thinking what would her flesh would taste like before turning to face you. You could feel his presence looming over you as he continued, "I'm quite sure you know why I invited you." The tone in his voice made it clear that there was something important he wanted to discuss with you.

You smiled at him knowingly and replied, "Oh, believe me, I already know why." As you looked at him, you couldn't help but notice his striking eyes and his calm demeanor. "It is an absolute pleasure to have this unexpected encounter with you. My name is Y/n L/n." You extended your hand towards him, hoping that he would reciprocate the gesture and shake it.

Alastor's lips curved upwards into a charming smile as he reached out to take your hand. He didn't shake it, but instead, he pulled it towards his face and planted a delicate kiss on your skin. "I must say, the pleasure is all mine, Y/n. I am Alastor," he said, introducing himself with a suave tone. "Quite a pleasure."

Once Alastor let go of your hand, he spoke with a hint of closeness, "I'm quite positive you know me from my broadcast."

‘I see.’ A realization dawned on you, and you couldn't help but smile, "I am a big fan of your evening stories, Mister Alastor. They're my absolute favorite. Although, I was quite baffled when you didn't share any tales last night." You pouted your lips playfully, trying to taunt him. "I was truly saddened," you added with a tinge of disappointment.

Alastor couldn't help but stare at you as you made that face. He knew that you were trying to pull his leg. "I truly apologize, Y/n. But something suddenly came up, and I just couldn't make it," he responded while taking your hand in his and gently caressing it to comfort you.

You flashed a smile, trying to mask the growing emotions that were brewing inside you. "Do not worry, Mister Alastor. I quite understand your reasoning." A glint in your eyes almost showed your true as your smile slowly morphed into a knowing grin. The corners of your natural pink lips curled up, revealing the hint of a sinister plan that was about to unfold.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the familiar smile. He knew right away that this person was not as naive as he had previously thought. "If it would interest you," he said with a smooth and charming tone, "I would be delighted to invite you to my humble abode where I perform my nightly broadcast." His smile was inviting. "You can watch me live tonight if you so choose."

You flashed a smile at Alastor, conveying you're accepting his offer. "That would be lovely, my dear sir," you said politely.

Alastor's eyes lit up with excitement as he exclaimed, "Wonderful! I will have you taste my mother's secret jambalaya recipe!"

You couldn't help but giggle at Alastor's enthusiasm. "I'm sure it will be a delight," you replied, eagerly anticipating the dish.

For a brief moment, you both stared at each other, as if silently communicating through your eyes. However, the arrival of the waiter carrying your food broke the spell, causing both of you to avert your gaze.

Alastor hummed, his eyes glinting as he watched the waiter approach their table carrying their orders and placing them on the table. You thanked the waiter and gestured to Alastor to tuck into your much-awaited breakfast.

As you finished, Alastor pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled his address on it. "Make sure you arrive before dusk," he said, his voice low and intense.

You took the paper from him, tucking it safely into your bosom. "Thank you for the delightful breakfast and your company, Mister Alastor," you said, bowing your head in respect.

"Please, call me Alastor," he insisted, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You're not some peasant beneath me."

Your lips graced a smile reaching your eyes as you locked eyes with Alastor, feeling a sudden and intense connection with him. "I'll see you this evening," he added, his voice dropping even lower.

The smile never left your lips as he kissed your hand and turned to leave, his back straight and his head held high. You watched him go, his figure disappearing into the crowd.

'This evening will be unforgettable,' you thought to yourself, turning to walk the other way your smile dropping.

Arriving at his home, Alastor quietly entered. Not a small squeak was heard from any of his movements. His eyes are still half-lidded while he makes his way to his cellar.

The cellar is dark, the only source of light is coming from the small window located at the end of the room. But it wasn't enough to illuminate the entire place.

Alastor took a few steps into the dark room. The scent of rotting flesh was all around the room, the floor was stained with dried blood, and the walls were full of scrapes, claw marks, and even a few splatters of blood. There sat the now awake blonde woman who was gagged and blindfolded. Her arms are tied behind her back and her feet are tied together. Next to her was a stainless bowl with a spoon and a water bottle which Alastor used to feed her before he left.

"It seems like you won't be alone any longer in here, hmm." A wicked smile appeared on his lips as he gazed down at the woman who was crying in the corner. "Don't cry now, darling. I don't want my meat to taste bad."

You had a fast-paced day and were now making your way towards Alastor's house. The house was located in the middle of the woods, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of calmness as you approached it. However, you were ready for anything, with a rapier in its sheath strapped to your thighs. As you walked closer to the entrance, you noticed the house was much like a cabin in the woods, but much bigger and tidier, almost like a mansion.

Once you knocked on the door, it was instantly pulled open by Alastor "Ah! Y/n. Please, come in," He said, welcoming you inside and locked the door behind you, which you couldn't help but notice.

You could see a bunch of deer antlers hanging on his wall, and the seemingly decomposed head of a deer hanging in the middle of the room where his chimney was located caught your attention, "I see that you hunt. Mostly stag." You slightly smirk turning your head to look at him. You could see that Alastor was a skilled hunter, with his collection of deer antlers and other hunting trophies on display.

"Ah, yes. I hunt for fun. But I sometimes crave venison meat, my dear." He chuckled and admitted. "They are quite softer than any ordinary meat."

"How curious." You giggled. "Now you made me wonder what they taste like, Alastor," you said, expressing your curiosity about the taste.

"I don't mind giving you one, my dear." Alastor chuckled. "But it might take a while for me to get my hands on it."

"Is that so." You mumbled looking at him. "But I know one type of meat that was indeed soft and scrumptious."

"I'm not quite sure what you are talking about, my dear." Alastor smiled walking toward his studio with you following behind.

"Alastor, dear. I am not foolish." You chuckled. "I am fully aware of your intentions after what I saw last night." Once you mentioned this, Alastor halted and turned to look at you. You can see his smile thinned. "And I do know this is the reason why you invited me here." You giggled covering your lips with your hand. "I know your game." You said as you confidently walked into his studio without asking for his permission, ready to take on whatever was waiting for you.

"Then I believe I don't need to hide anything from you, Y/n," spoke Alastor, his voice like velvet. As he gradually made his way towards you, he wrapped his arm around your waist in a slow, almost dancing motion.

You didn't feel uncomfortable with his touch though. You simply let out a carefree laugh, which delighted Alastor. You took your time gazing into his half-lidded eyes, which were staring back at you, before slowly pulling away from him. You dusted off your skirt, a small action that didn't go unnoticed by Alastor. "It's for you to decide, Mister Alastor," you said, your voice laced with a hint of playful mystery.

Alastor arched an eyebrow inquisitively, his piercing gaze fixed on the object of his affection. 'Is she teasing me?' he wondered out loud. Without missing a beat, he reached out and placed a strong, reassuring hand on her lower back. "Perhaps you'll find this a lovely present, my darling," he said with a hint of mischief in his voice.

As you both stepped out of his studio, you looked around and asked with curiosity, "Hm? Where are we headed now?" You couldn't help but feel intrigued by the unknown destination as you walked alongside him.

"You'll see."

You decided to go along with his plan, despite feeling uncertain. You wanted to be prepared for whatever might happen next. However, your suspicion began to grow when you realized that he was taking you down to the basement. This sudden change in direction made you feel slightly uneasy.

The scent of rotting flesh was the first thing you noticed once you both reached the cellar. Despite the utter darkness that engulfed the room, you cautiously trailed behind Alastor, trusting his lead. As you neared the threshold, a faint glimmer of light illuminated the scene just enough to reveal the silhouette of a blonde woman. She appeared to be the same person he had carried on the night you apprehended him.

Alastor anticipated that you would be frightened upon witnessing the sight of the weeping woman who was captured. But instead, you displayed a devious gaze and a vicious smile. He became more interested in you.

With measured steps, you closed the distance between yourself and the mysterious woman. The soft click of your heels beneath your feet echoed in the stillness. As you drew nearer, you could see the delicate features of her face and the strands of hair that had fallen across her sweaty forehead. Finally, you knelt beside her, feeling the coldness of the ground beneath your knees before taking the blindfold off of her. The woman looked at both of you, terrified. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks as she whined through the gag as if begging for freedom.

"You poor thing.." You mumbled looking at her eye to eye. "This is why you should never walk in the dark." As you uttered words, your hand stretched out, delicately brushing away a solitary tear that trickled down her cheek.

Alastor stood there, his eyes fixed on you, as you went about your task. He couldn't help but wonder if the way you were doing things was your usual method.

"Such beautiful face, my dear." You whispered. "Too bad it will go to waste.." With utmost care, you slid the gleaming rapier out of its scabbard, the metal glinting in the light. You held it up for the woman to see, her fearful gaze fixed on the sharp edge that seemed to shimmer in the air.

"Nothing is as beautiful as you are, my darling," Alastor spoke behind you, brushing your h/c locks to the side. He then sensually leaned down, placing an alluring kiss on your nape just as he wrapped his arm around your waist and leisurely held your hand where your rapier was.

Your eyes narrow as you watch the woman closely, who is frantically attempting to flee from the both of you using her abilities. You can see the fear in her eyes and the desperation in her movements. As she tries to escape, you notice the subtle quiver in her hands and the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Despite her efforts, she seems to be struggling to try and escape, making her attempts all the more frantic. "Oh, I would assure you. Nothing is as beautiful as her bathing in her own blood.." You spoke.

The woman's final screech was heard through the night followed by your rapier's blade slithering against her neck bringing her blood to splatter on the pair of you.

But as he witnesses the death of the woman by your hands, Alastor can't help himself but bring fingers to your face, clutching you by your jaw and wringing your face to him before he aggressively places his lips against yours. His actions caused you to drop the rapier and wrap your arms around his neck, returning the kiss almost too desperately.

Your lips danced against his as you felt him fighting for dominance. You felt his arm unbuttoning your blouse, drenched in blood. This causes you to do a similar action, unbuttoning his clothes and sliding both your arms in, feeling his bare skin brushing against your palm.

You felt him pushing you gently, bringing you to lie on the blood-soaked floor while he pulled your maxi skirt.

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

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spaghettiposts · 5 months

Text

An Outlaws Christmas

Cowboy!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summery: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.

Warnings: Mentions of firearms, fluff, Bucky being dramatic.

Words Count: 3.5k

“Bucky I swear to God, you better keep this thing steady.” You muttered between cold breaths, raising your foot to the next step, sensing the ladder tremble beneath you. Your eyes whipped downward, glaring at the cowboy.

He huffed, gripping the ladder tighter. “You just- had to date the rich girl with a four-story mansion didntcha?” He seethed, shifting his weight to support the item. “It’s fucking freezing man.”

Indeed, it was freezing. The middle of December in Fort Worth brought snow gleaming in the streets, covering trails and displeasing the horses. Which you had to use to get here in the first place, Wanda’s house that is. More precisely her fathers house, who wasn’t so keen about you. Why were you here? Simple.

Christmas, the season of giving, in any weather condition. And in any condition you always wanted to visit Wanda, even if Bucky complained about it. Especially tonight, when it was Christmas night. Where family’s would spend their nights together, huddled by the fireplace. Something you wanted to share with Wanda someday.

Something an outlaw like you couldn’t have, but you tried anyway. You tried for her, tried to change your rugged ways. Formerly around this time of year you never would’ve imagined a reason to celebrate this holiday. There was nobody special in your life, no family, and Bucky never liked Christmas ideals.

Now there was Wanda to be that someone. Beautiful, intelligent, amazingly talented Wanda. The girl who went for someone like yourself, a lowlife criminal trying to mend their ways. She saw the good in you, that you failed to see in yourself. And bit by bit she brought it out of you. Blackmail Barnes would constantly use on you, mocking you as the ‘cowboy who got whipped’ or ‘cowboy gone soft’ and his personal favorite ‘Casanova’. Despite the smacks you gave him each time he dared to use those terms, secretly you didn’t mind, it just meant you were closer to change than before. With that in mind, you didn’t let the opportunity to make Wanda your girlfriend pass by you, despite her parents disapproval.

Maybe if you got a better job, in time that would change too.

“Just keep the ladder steady Barnes, I’ll be finished quick.” You hollered over the wind, climbing up with haste. Looking through the windows you recognized them as the third floor, for the servants Wanda had told you. Rich people had rooms for everything nowadays.

“Quick my ass..” He scoffed.

“Was that sarcasm James?”

He let out a groan, pounding his fist on the ladder. “Just get your girl already”

“Alright alright…” You chuckled under your breath, hurrying up the ladder. You didn’t want to risk his impatience, the last thing you wanted was for him to throw you off. Fortunately, with the heavy snowfall, you’d probably only break one rib.

Although Wanda wouldn’t be happy, so you wouldn’t risk it.

Finally, the ladder came to an end, perfectly syncing with Wanda’s bedroom window. You were grateful to Mr. Williamson, your local carpenter, took your request for a 40 foot ladder seriously. Raising up your fist to knock–as you had done so many times before–you found yourself plagued with…hesitancy.

Pulling the poorly wrapped package out of your interior coat pockets, you examined the item. Its contaminants inside were beautiful, even you could admit, but the outside? Poorly wrapped crumbles of brown lunch bag paper with white string holding all the mess together? Was what was on the inside enough for Wanda?

Feeling another shake on the ladder you turned your head down, meeting the eyes of Bucky. He motioned to the window with his head, shooting you a thumbs up. You mouthed a small ‘thanks’ to him, right now wasn’t the time for insecurities. You’re sure Wanda would love the gift, or at least appreciate the gesture.

Clearing your throat, you tapped on the window, announcing yourself, “Wanda! It’s me! Do you mind opening the window?” You asked, waiting for the velvet curtains to part. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure she was there at the moment. You knew the tendency her parents had of venturing off into parties, dragging her along into them and you assumed Christmas parties were a thing.

A couple of seconds later, you heard shuffling from inside, the curtains opening and your smile widening. Wanda looked through the window, searching for you till her eyes landed on your figure covered in snow. Her eyes widened, her hand lifting up to her chin in shock, “Y/n?”

“Hi Darlin’.” You shot the bewildered woman a toothy grin, lifting your hand to wave at her. Carefully she opened the window slowly, making sure not to knock you over in the process. Her shock eventually subsided into worry, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you inside.

“What are you doing here? It’s cold out, you’ll get sick.” She fretted, patting your forearms to shake off the snow.

“I’ve got my jacket,” You shrugged, her hands staying on your chest. “and I’m here for you. I brought you something for Christmas.” You smiled, digging through your pockets, Wanda tilted her head curiously. Pulling out the paper present you presented it to her.

Her eyes looked down at the gift fondly, she could tell you had wrapped it but thankfully found it endearing. Her fingers ran delicately through the string tying it together, as she turned to look at you with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at her lips.

“Really?” She whispered, rubbing her hands on your chest before letting them hang on your shoulders. Her smile turned into a small smirk at the way you clearly leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have to Y/n…”

Truthfully you didn’t have to, Wanda had expressed how she was fine with you not celebrating the holiday, knowing how different your childhoods had been. She didn’t expect anything from you, a problem you wanted to change. You were capable enough for her to depend on you.

You blushed, enjoying the feel of Wanda’s fingers caressing the back of your neck. “But I want to, it’s custom to give your loved ones gifts and you’re mine.” You said sheepishly.

Wanda’s face softens at your words, keeping her gaze on you, searching for something more. And you think she’s going to close the distance but instead she moves her gaze to the door, squeezing your shoulders.

“Okay, but I’m afraid this’ll have to be quick.” She sighs “My Fathers due to be back soon, and you know how he feels about our relationship.”

At the mention of her father your expression turns into a slight grimace, the man was a governor, rich beyond belief and trying to get rid of old fashion ways. Including individuals such as yourself, outlaws. He had reason to, but still the thought of him left a bitter distaste in your mouth.

“He’ll learn to love me eventually.”

Wanda lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in denial. “I highly doubt it, he’s very…traditional.”

Traditional. You hated that word.

“I could be traditional.” You tried to reason, even though you were the least bit traditional. It was worth a shot.

“With that rustic drawl of yours I’m not too sure Detka.” Wanda teased, leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. You wanted to correct her but she continued, “But that’s okay, personally I find it very charming.”

And then she closed the distance between you, savoring the way you let out a small sigh. You missed this, you missed her, you especially missed her touch. The way her hands guided yours down to her waist, encouraging you.

Wanda appreciated your kindness and respect towards boundaries. Making you all the more attractive in her eyes, the way you’d ask before anything, even hand holding, your charming gentleman like behavior. God, she wanted to rip those jeans off you.

You felt Wanda try to deepen the kiss which you eagerly gave into, granting her tongue permission. Her hands slipped inside your shirt, scratching the skin softly, causing your breath to hitch. Pulling away from the kiss with a gasp, resting your forehead against yours, catching your breath.

Wanda snickers between stolen kisses. “Damn it Wands…” You mumble affectedly, “This was ‘post to be about you.”

Pulling her head slightly away she stares up at you, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “We have a couple minutes to spare, me and you.” Her hold tightened on your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

Taking everything in you, you slow down the kiss much to Wanda’s disappointment. You chuckle shyly, remembering how she told you to be quick, ironic. “I’ve missed you too but not- today” You shudder with all seriousness, removing your hands from her hips.

“Mkay, I suppose we could wait for another moment.” She says, releasing her hold on you. “Besides you know I like taking my time with you.” She winks, laughing at your reaction.

“Quit teasin’ me…” You sigh, trying to shake off the blush dusting your cheeks, something that tended to happen with Wanda. The brunette only shrugged, feigning innocence. She took a hold of your wrist pulling you towards her bed, taking a seat and then patting the space beside her. Eagerly you settle in beside her, placing the gift on her lap.

“Open it.” You smile, anticipating the reaction.

Wanda fiddles with the present, tilting her head. “What is it?”

You snort “Well you won’t know until you open it Wands.”

Pursing her lips Wanda tugs on the strings, delicately unwrapping the gift which you didn’t really get, considering it wasn’t some high class material but kept quiet. Once the paper wrapping was off it revealed a rectangular shaped black leather box, it looked rather expensive. Feeling the leather Wanda confirmed her thoughts with widened eyes. Pure rich leather.

Her fingers traced the fabric, turning to stare at you. “Y/n what is this…” She whispered, you urged her to open the lid. And when she did the gasp that left her lips was almost comical. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s a pendant.” You pointed out, feeling a little uncomfortable under her strong gaze. Did she like it? If only mind readers existed.

“Yes I know but, how?” She questioned, picking up the necklace before frowning. It was beautiful. “Detka…I don’t need you spending this much on me. This looks far too pricy.” Came her response, you sucked your teeth already expecting that answer from her. Wanda was never one to let you spoil her, knowing how much you made, odd considering you made a good amount…with a gun.

“Saving up money isn’t that hard, you’ve just gotta kill the right men to get it.” You smile sheepishly, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Y/n.” Wanda glared, disliking your joke.

“I’m joking! Honest.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender. “Actually this jewel wasn’t so hard to find.”

“You found it?”

“Yup, mined it straight from that rock. Me and Barnes were chasing after a guy…” You hesitated, her raised eyebrow challenging you to finish that sentence. “To talk, down in the mines, when I found it. It reminded me of you, just like your eyes. So I plucked it open and took it to a jeweler. All's fair, no shooting involved.” You swore, crossing a finger across your heart.

Wanda just shook her head, rubbing her temple with her hand. You could tell she was upset at the revelation, she never appreciated hearing stories that could’ve killed you. Another thing you were trying to change, this one was more challenging as there were many people who wanted you dead, the difficult part was getting Wanda to understand that.

Both of you were stubborn that way.

“Does that…make it worse?” You asked carefully, debating whether to put a hand on her back, eventually deciding against and placing it back on your side. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. “I could get you one from the store if you’d like. I saw some real pretty ones there too.”

“That makes it all the more special to me, you mined it straight from the rock and fixed it up but you know how I feel about your ‘talks’.” She ended with a slightly twinge of annoyance. “I just worry about you and your job.”

You fiddled with the sheets underneath your fingertips, unsure what to say about that besides an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

Worrying was something no one had ever cared to do for you in your lifetime, not until Wanda. The feeling was strange…and something to get used to. You tried to be more understanding towards Wanda’s feelings, having picked up a book or two on how to maintain a healthy relationship, and Wanda was gladly by your side throughout the process.

“Its fine really, so long as you come back to me alive.” She empathized the last word, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, agreeing with her. Lifting up her chin, carrying a satisfied look by your response, she trusted you. “If not I’ll come back and kill you myself.”

“Honey, me and you both know that you don’t know your way around a revolver.” You teased, leaning in forward to grasp her hand and place a small peck on the back of it.

“Just like you don’t know your way around the kitchen?” She retorted smugly, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“I know my way…my meals are cooked with the intent of survival.”

“Clearly taste isn’t a part of your ideologies of ‘survival’.” She sneered, you tried to hide your smile but ultimately failed, laughing along with her.

The atmosphere had shifted, no longer holding that same tension as it did before. Worries and insecurities had left you, laughing along with the girl you had grown to love. You loved moments like these, carefree ones. Ones where you didn’t have to worry about wild snakes or bandits trying something. Ones where you could be happy with the person you loved most.

Admiring your girlfriend you couldn’t help yourself but to lean forward and cup her chin, connecting your lips together. It was a quick kiss, one you pulled away from as quick as it started, not permitting Wanda the chance to kiss back.

Instead she stared at you in shock, cheeks red. You had initiated something. Feeling flustered from the attention you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, which was quickly overtaken by Wanda who threw herself on you in glee, pampering kisses all over your face.

“I love you.” She whispered, kissing your cheeks. “Even if you’re a reckless idiot who climbs up four story mansions, and is a part time bounty hunter.” A kiss to your nose “But you’re my idiot.” A kiss to your forehead “Forever.” And finally your lips.

“Forever?”

“Mhm, mind putting this on me?” She requested, grabbing the necklace chain. You nodded happily, watching her shift in your lap to get a better view. Gently you pushed her hair aside, bringing the jewelry round her neck. It took a couple of frustrating attempts to get inside the clasp but eventually you managed, closing it.

Wanda thanked you with another kiss before moving herself off your lap and standing to get a view of the necklace in the mirror. Pushing yourself off the bed, you followed your girlfriend into her closet, admiring how divine the jewel looked on her.

“You look gorgeous.” You sighed, hearts racing at just the sight of her.

Wanda smiled, toying with the jewel. “It’s very pretty, I love it, thank you.” She reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving kiss on the cheek. You smile back at her, taking the initiative to bring your lips together this time, sharing a loving kiss. That’s all it was, love.

Wanda smiled happily into the kiss, proud of you for taking initiative again, slotting her arms back on your neck. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she pulled away, “But you know what would’ve been nicer?”

“What?”

“A ring.”

“A ring?”

“If this was your way of claiming your mark on me, it was a nice attempt but usually people settle for rings.” She replied, playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. “Which I’m still waiting for, maybe that way you’ll have a reason to put that gun down for once. A family to come back to.”

A family.

Oh gosh.

Hoping it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious how much you enjoyed that idea, you barely managed to squeak out a small, “But you like the necklace right…?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard to take it off of me now.” Wanda retorted playfully “Unless you’re willing to try?”

“I um.” You swallowed dryly, definitely now you knew your face was looking as ripe as a tomato.

At your expression Wanda let out a hearty laugh, furthering your embarrassment. She slapped an arm at your chest playfully, “I’m just teasing Detka, breathe. Although I’m serious about that, I’ll wear it forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Like really glad, I wasn’t too sure and Bucky wasn’t much help.” You said, recalling the way Bucky had fallen asleep midway through your shopping session in search of something for the girl.

“I can see that he's never been the romantic type, unless you count that disastrous encounter with Natasha as romance then, maybe.” Both of you cringed at the memory.

Sputters of a car garnered your attention distracting you from the girl in your arms. The noise sounded suspiciously like her fathers new automobile, quickly you removed your hands from Wanda’s body. Wanda too, let you go at impressive speeds, rushing to take a look outside the window. Peering outside she was met with the sight of her father, who was kicking the tire of his car, muttering curses under his breath.

Oh shit her father.

Oh shit Bucky.

“Bucky.” You gasped, collecting your things. “Shit shit shit, Buckys still outside.”

“My fathers here.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, your eyes widened, rushing to get out of there. Before you could get too far Wanda stopped you with a tug at your forearm, smacking a box at your chest.

“What’s this?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, pushing the box back to get a better look at it. Quickly Wanda tugged your chin to meet her, placing one last peck on your lips before pulling the window open.

“Christmas gift.” She explained, “I don’t like what you do, and this isn’t me encouraging it, but you’re my girlfriend and I love you. So that’s that, now go before I change my mind.”

You nodded your head dumbly, unsure what she meant by all that, but climbed out anyway, waving her goodbye with the box secured in your hands.

Once you reached the bottom it was only then that you realized what she meant by those words, a new rifle stood in your hands. One of the best models out there. Grinning widely you took no time in ripping it out of the box, oh how you loved this girl.

—

“Fouty fucking minutes.” Bucky snarled, still shaking the snow off his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t white from head to toe. “Forty! You left me in the cold for Forty minutes!!” He shook his leather hat violently, slapping it around.

You sighed, taking the hat off your head and dusting yourself as well. In contrast you weren’t so full of snow, which just upset the man more. “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean to take so long, but it was amazing.” The last part came out in awe.

Bucky placed his hat back on firmly, throwing a glare at you. He knew that voice, that puppy love coded tone of yours that only ever arose to haunt him when you were on the verge of an hour talk about Wanda. He debated shooting you right now before you started again.

“Forty minutes…I could’ve gotten frostbite you know, then who’s gonna cover you? Wanda? Like hell.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at you when you pulled out your new rifle. One of the newest models too, he had to admit he was quite envious.

“She’s so amazing…”

“Are you even listening to me?!” He said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

“She gave me a gun…” You sighed dreamily, hugging the firearm to your chest. “Not just any gun Bucky, but a Winchester Model. The expensive good kind too.” You exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. His face scrunched up, smacking you away.

Bucky huffed from beside you, continuing to walk since you were too lovesick to lead. The building wasn’t too far from here. “She got me a good revolver too, you ain’t special.”

“Yeah but…mines better.”

“That doesn’t even- whatever you still took too damn long in there.”

“I haven’t seen her in weeks!” You whined, trying to defend yourself.

Bucky let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Yeah and you won’t see her in weeks, with all that back pain you’re gonna get.”

“What?”

“I call dibs on the good mattress, you fucked with me too much this time.” He shrugged, opening the door to your shared building.

“That’s not-”

“And by the way, I can still see her lipstick all over you.” He motioned to your face, before pointing down your neck. “You might wanna cover up those hickeys too, Bottom.”

“James!”

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda my beloved #wanda imagine #wlw post #cowboy au #cowboy #Wanda is rich rich #she’s sugar mommy material 🤞#but not in this story unfortunately 😔#Wanda’s worried girlfriend material here

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Housewife

✨️Kink education with Elizabeth✨

The Housewife kink, also known as the 1950s Household, is a power play exchange dynamic that typically involves a dom and service sub. It is characterized by one partner being seen as a homemaker and one as the breadwinner. During the 1950s, the homemaker’s “job” was to take care of the household chores, dinner, children (if they had any), and following norms, their husband's needs all while being the picture perfect example of soft femininity and breedability.

Subs partaking in this form of play tend to wear dresses, heels, aprons, ect, while maintaining a clean home and cooking. Many people enjoy this dynamic due to its ability to come into real-life play instead of just hiding in the bedroom.

It is one form kink play that does not necessarily have to be sexual, but that's not why we're all here 👀

NSFW BELOW CUT

💕Peep Valentines Day Bingo Here 💕

Azriel x Reader

Summary - After a long day of interrogations, Azriel is more than pleased to come home to dinner made, a clean home, and a pretty wife.

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, references to completely power exchange play, oral (mreceiving), slightly demeaning behavior towards females

A/N - I apologize for the delay. My little is going through a growth spurt and a little fussy today. Plus, it took FOREVER to find the perfect gif.

Azriel opened the door to his cabin. His shoulders were slumped forward, wings hanging slightly lower than normal.

It had been a rough day. He had been torturing the same prisoner for 3 days now. They refused to yield, they refused to break, and they refused to bend and give the shadowsinger what he wanted.

He knew that all would change the second he saw you, though. You were currently setting dinner on the table. Your hair was softly curled and pinned back, a soft touch of makeup graced your face highlighting his favorite features of yours.

You were wearing a blue sundress the flowed out at the bottom with heels and a blue bow in your hair.

“How's my wife today?” He took pleasure in knowing you would not address him until he addressed you. He took pleasure in knowing that within seconds of hearing his voice, you were trained to get him a glass of whiskey and greet him with a kiss.

“Azriel, you're home early,” you immediately went to the liquor counter, dress swaying as you did. You poured him a finger of whiskey, moving to add ice before walking to him and kissing his cheek. “How was your day?”

Azriel drank as you began removing his outer heavy layer for him, watching like a hawk as you hung his coat and placed his already kicked off boats into the precise place he had told you they go.

“Same prisoner as yesterday,” he watched you blink in confusion. “The bastard will not break and submit. Did you make dinner?”

You nodded enthusiastically, walking him to the table and getting him a plate. “I made your favorite.”

Azriel settled into the couch after dinner, watching you as you cleaned dishes. Every soft movement of your dress had his eyes locked on the hem. Each time you'd reach forward slightly, he was rewarded with a glimpse at the garter belt straps that connected to the satin tops of your thigh highs. It was a constant reminder to him that you were his present, waiting to be unwrapped so delicately as a reward for your continued obedient behavior.

“Angel,” he spoke softly. “Are all your chores done after this?”

It should have bothered you as a wingless Illyrian female to hand over submission so willingly out of hope you'd be rewarded with your mate's cock pounding into you over and over, but instead knowing you were about to be rewarded, that he was about to use you like a pretty cock sleeve, that had your thighs pressing together. “They are. Unless you wanted me to do something else.” A cool shadow began swirling your leg. Its touch was like soft kisses and left shivers in its wake.

Azriel leaned back, watching his shadow go on its mission, watching as you took a gasp, spine going straight before moaning his name. “Let me know when you finish.” He placed an arm on the back of the couch, scenting your arousal filling the air as you whimpered and went back to the last few dishes.

It wasn't fair. Trying to focus on scrubbing and rinsing as a shadow sat vibrating against your lace covered clit was nearly impossible. 5 dishes, you reminded yourself. He lets you leave them overnight to dry. Just 5 more. You focused on the dishes, doing the best you could to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs.

You almost jumped as rough hands ran up your arms. “My pretty little wife. My mate,” one of his hands wrapped and held your throat. His other hand ran down your chest, through the valley of your breasts, before settling on your hip. He started placing soft kisses along your neck, your ear. “How lucky am I to have such an obedient wife taking care of my home?” He squeezed your throat softly before his other hand began lifting Your dress. The hand on your throat moved to join the other one as he moved you away From the sink and to a different section of countertop, bending you over it and place one hand at the back of your neck to hold you Down. He groaned as his shadows held up that pretty dress, exposing those sapphire lace panties

"The dishes," you panted.

"Can wait. I can't. I've been hard since I walked in to you setting the table wearing my color, wearing a little bow tying your hair back like some innocent little thing." Your panties were moved to the side. Two fingers began to run the length of your core as Azriel groaned behind you. "So fucking wet I've hardly done anything."

You heard a muffled moan and could only assume he had put his fingers into his mouth. "So sweet, baby." You could hear him undoing his pants, feel as the head of his cock ran your folds. You could feel down the bond that it would be a long night.

You gasped loudly, gripping the counter with a mix between a moan and scream as he pushed into the hilt. Azriel wasted no time, threading one hand into your hair and pulling while the other held your hip. Azriel growled as you wiggled slightly, causing you to still. "Such a good little wife."

He wasted no time, setting a pace that had your toes curling in those heels that made your ass look phenomenal. Shadows quickly moved to hold the dress up, allowing the hand on your hip to move to your still covered clit.

There was something freeing about being below him, serving him, being used by him. It was enough for that coil to tighten faster as your mind went blank, focusing on nothing but the feeling of his heavy hard cock hitting every nerve inside of you, angling until he found the spot that had you scream his name.

Despite the roughness he fucked you with, the power you were freely handing to him, Azriel still sent wave after wave of his love, his admiration, and his pride down the bond. With each wave, that coil got tighter and tighter, your moans louder and more desperate as your body felt like it was on fire. "Be a good wife and cum for me," his fingers pressed down on that bundle of nerves, hips pistoning into you even faster as you screamed his name, walls milking his cock.

Azriel pulled out instead of following you over the ledge, ripping that dress off of you and leaving you in the lingerie and heels. He lifted you into his arms while you still came down from the high, your vision almost blurred.

You felt the soft bed under you, smelling the fresh sheets you had just changed hours ago. Azriel smelled them too as he positioned you with your head hanging off the bed. "You spoil me," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing and tweaking your nipples.

His cock sat heavy and leaking near your face, soaked in your release, "Open." You smiled, opening your mouth wide, allowing him to push in just as two fingers slid into your heat.

He was gentle this time, for now at least, fucking your throat. You ran your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. You were at his mercy, wiggling and moaning around him as the wet noises of his cock in your mouth and his fingers thrusting in and out of you echoed with his moans and occasional whimper.

His pace picked up as his fingers did, making him chuckle in satisfaction as you gagged around him. "You deserve a reward for how hard you worked today, don't you, y/n?" He groaned as you moaned around him, vibrating his cock as he held it deep in your throat. "Not a single thing out of place, every chore finished, and I came home to you looking like a delicious treat? What a good little wife." You felt your vision getting slightly blurry until he pulled out again, your pleasure almost maddening as he avoided the spongy spot inside of you and brushed your swollen clit with ghost like touches. "That's what you are isn't it? No thoughts in that pretty mind of yours but pleasing me and taking my cock like an obedient whore?"

You would have nodded, begging him to give you what you needed as you agreed to every word, but his cock was still occupying and twitching in your mouth. You knew from the way his fingers had become messier in their rhythm, from the way his words were getting breathy, from how each moment of your throat burning as he held himself deep inside grew longer and longer that he was close.

You had been dreaming of his all day. Dreaming for your reward for dusting, for cooking, for cleaning. The reward you'd get when he came home to a spotless house, to his laundry done, to you wearing your pretty outfit for him.

His fingers curled into the spot you needed, pressing and tapping there as shadows curled and flicked your nipples and his thumb ran gentle circles on your clit. You finished within seconds with no warning, crying around his cock, hands fisting the sheets.

Azriel fell over the edge soon after, spilling with his cock shoved all the way into your mouth forcing you to swallow what you could, head thrown back as his wings flared and he moaned your name without shame.

He pulled out, fisting the exposed length and allowing the last of his cum to land on your face, admiring the mess of drool, makeup, and his seed you had become. His fingers left your cunt, going to his own mouth as he licked them clean with a smile. He watched as your hand waved and the bathtub began to fill.

"I'm not done with you yet," he panted, hands trailing your body.

You smiled, your own hands running up and down his thighs. "I counted in that, but let me take care of your other needs first."

Azriel looked up, a wide smile on his face as he sent a silent prayer to whoever blessed you with acts of service as your love language. "I would really like that."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish

@novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer

As always- please let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist 💜

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x yn #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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cobragardens · 7 months

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My Favorite Good Omens Moment:

An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)

There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.

My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.

David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:

Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.

The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.

In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:

Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.

And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.

And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.

And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:

youtube

Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.

We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.

This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:

You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.

Okay. Now let's look at 1601.

Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.

In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:

In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:

Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).

And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:

Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.

TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.

As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.

Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:

Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.

There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.

That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:

What are you doing? or

Why are you like this? or

How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or

How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?

each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.

But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:

He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.

Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.

So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?

Once more, with inferences:

I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.

Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.

And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--

But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.

--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."

I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:

Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.

Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:

Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.

Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--

--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.

In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.

In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.

But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.

But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.

And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.

And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.

UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 1601 #good omens microexpressions #good omens headshake #angelfish #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens fanalysis

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