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#deer skull girl
kneedles · 7 months
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Tits and tats or whatever it is they say ❤️‍🔥
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Flickwrist
Flickwrist the Kenku Gloom Stalker, from my current D&D campaign. 🐦‍⬛🗡️⚔️
Been a little bit since my last art post, but it's been a busy couple of weeks. PAX East knocked me TF out. Been having some back pain of late as well, although that's improving. Keeping on.
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windasicecreamparlour · 8 months
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Some other really cool stuff I got from my con haul at Denfur 2023! Sadly I just could not remember the artist’s names if anyone knows them please @ them so I can give them a follow!
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worsethan-tremors · 2 years
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𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶'𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔞𝔶𝔶𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔫𝔢����
ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ᴀʀᴛ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪ·ᴀʀᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ
@ɢᴠᴊᴇᴍ ᴏɴ ɪɴsᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ // ɢᴇᴍssᴛᴜᴅɪᴏsʜᴏᴘ ᴏɴ ᴇᴛsʏ
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thatpurpledeer · 1 year
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“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”
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rising-air-3 · 2 years
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Goth girl with a deer skull Shirt
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CLICK THE LINK BELOW:
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cowardcows · 2 years
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This is my favorite photo of Cassio. RIP
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cinders-and-rain · 2 years
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Progress on the skull sleeve 💉
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beatricealfbern · 2 months
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People were talking about how they wanted her shirt so now you can get it! Most designs are currently available in all countries with Amazon! I have a new page on my site so you can look at all the stuff! I'll leave it in the comments if you wanna take a peek!
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teddiesworldd · 22 days
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after the world ends.
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ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!
a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!
pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader
tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance
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day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.
you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.
you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 
you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 
thud. thud. snap.
footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 
“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.
you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”
he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.
“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”
you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.
his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.
“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 
you nodded slowly.
“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”
you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.
he wasn’t wrong, really.
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his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 
it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.
after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.
however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.
he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.
“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”
and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.
“not scared, are you, doll?”
you shook your head.
“good. just making sure.”
and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.
but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.
“stay?” you whispered.
and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 
and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.
sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 
it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 
and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 
“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.
and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 
after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”
there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.
"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.
"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."
your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.
"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.
you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.
"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.
it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.
but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.
"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.
"please," you replied, "i want you."
that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.
he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.
"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."
he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.
"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."
you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.
he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.
"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.
you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.
it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.
"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."
when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.
he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.
and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.
"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."
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˚✧. thank you for reading!
˚✧.please reblog to support me <3
˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis
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💌 send a request
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iron-niffler · 2 years
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hate appliance reviews that are basically just a ten minute 360 view of the product followed by twenty seconds of "so yeah this is really cute can't wait to use it!" like please for the love of fandom i just want a review telling me how long and how well the damn thing works
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yawnderu · 1 month
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Nikto x Bimbo!Reader really doesn’t seem to well, work…given how Nikto would kinda be too TOO much of an opposite for Bimbo!Reader.
Introducing Vulture!Reader, the girl that has a huge amount of trash bags in her trunk, and said trunk always smelling of decomp. She collects bones, road kill, passed pets, anything with bones she’ll collect!
I feel like Nikto would literally be a stray cat leaving gifts for her, bringing her dead things. Than generally being confused at first as she gets excited over finding things such as- finding a dead buck (deer with horns idk some people don’t know I’m sorry 😭), bird flys into the window- and she’s excited hoping it’s dead and not to ‘broken’ so she can collect the bones.
Getting to first know each other and she goes, “wanna see my cat?”. Than she showed him a full skeleton on display along with a bunch of shelf’s filled with bones, skulls and even small taxidermy.
-🩻 (I thought Nikito would be interested in vulture culture, how she can show him things can be loved even when they’re long gone. How there can be beauty in death, and that she continues to care and love for things even when their dusty bones <3)
AHHHHy yesyes!!
Nikto would absolutely adore a vulture!reader, despite being put off by the entire thing at first. She's too weird for a Russian man— for any man, honestly, yet he still finds himself interested in her rambles about bones and dead things, even going as far as to bring her bones he finds while out on missions, the glare he shot his mates when they gave him questioning looks from collecting bones for you was enough for them to never ask about it again.
Even if her house made him slightly anxious at first, it slowly becomes a safe haven for him as well, seeing how much love and care you love things that aren't alive anymore, most of them reduced to nothing but bones, yet you still dust them and talk to them sometimes. There's a part of him that hopes one day, if he dies in a mission, you'll be able to show him the same love and respect. Bonus points if she's a mortician.<3
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kodamaghost00 · 1 month
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30 Lucifer Headcanons
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[Disclaimer!!]
This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut
It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.
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Let’s begin!
Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.
Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.
“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.
He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”
You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.
When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.
He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.
Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.
He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.
Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.
He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.
He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.
He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.
Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?
He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.
Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.
When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.
He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.
He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”
GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”
He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.
He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.
He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.
He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”
He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.
So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.
He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.
He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.
His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.
“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.
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Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!
- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
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veliseraptor · 10 months
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re: that post i just reblogged about 'cozy horror'...i know better than to expect anything approaching decent commentary from the mary sue these days but this article really is just. sending me this morning. (thank you for sharing, @bereft-of-frogs! this was a good diversion from being angry about work stuff to being angry about something else.) starting off strong with:
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local writer has been introduced to novel concept of broader horror genre!
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ah yeah that instantly makes sense to me particularly as a segue after mentioning midsommar and the witch, two movies that i would definitely describe as "cozy"
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the cozy horror novels of t. kingfisher, like the one with the description of an animated deer skull hovering outside a window at night that still freaks me out to remember? those ones?
my favorite part though might be the author's confident assertion that this is all about gender really:
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because boys like icky bad horror that's difficult and intense and girls like nice cozy horror with happy endings and low stakes. ah yes. feminism!
if this becomes a thing i am going to perish. isn't taking over the sff environment with cozy feel good fluff enough, must the world take this from me too, it's hard enough to find horror i like already
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camarocarfight · 2 months
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LOVE'S THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND
Alastor x Female Reader
Rated Mature for mentions of gore and sexual content. This could be like a 'slice of life' type of thing, but it's more like a kick in the feels.
A hunter.
A hunter had ended it all for Alastor with a single wayward bullet that had shattered his skull and extinguished his life in an instant. The bullet, having struck Alastor between the eyes, had left a single, clean entrance wound that had exited the back of his skull. Bringing with it a trail of blood and brain matter that painted the forest floor around Alastor's motionless body like a halo. Brown eyes, once harboring emotion - existence - were now glazed over, staring listless up at the heavens. Alastor never knew what hit him - his life simply torn from his body. A bizarre hunting accident is what the papers called it.
Accidents are nearly fate misnamed, however.
Never mind the hunter having mistaken a human for a deer. Said hunter was deemed a hero, having killed the illusive New Orleans serial killer that had been evading police for years. The killer that had been the beloved and famed radio host. Leaving the city shocked and disturbed that he had been right under their noses the entire time.
Alastor’s radio program had soared to immense popularity in every aspect of the population. Men enjoyed listening to the current events, kids enjoyed the swinging jazz, and women the soothing tenor of Alastor's transatlantic accented voice when he would sing. Special occasions brought the radio host and his jazz band to jazz clubs and speakeasies, drawing in massive crowds of mostly swooning women. Alastor had been New Orleans’ most sought-after bachelor.
Until he wasn't.
One evening at a jazz club, your friends dragged you to the show. Celebrations were in order, as you and your friends had just graduated nursing school. The atmosphere of the club had been electrifying. People around you danced and sang as Alastor and his band brought the small club to life. Alastor’s radio show had been one you listened to nearly every day, as you were just another girl captivated by his famous vocals. Finally, you could put a face to the name and voice. He was even more handsome than you had imagined; with a charming smile that captivated you and made you blush when he caught your gaze.
The rest of your friends were on the dance floor, flirting and dancing with service men in uniforms. Being quiet and reserved, you sat yourself at a table situated in the corner, but you could still see Alastor. Drink in hand, you sipped idly, lost in thought. A few men had ventured up to you to offer a dance, but you politely declined. Upon seeing such a display, Alastor ventured off the stage and bounded toward your table. Your eyes were wide and cheeks a burning crimson as Alastor pulled you up on stage and the two of you danced the night away. It was a Cinderella story that the town talked about for weeks.
Hearts were broken everywhere when Alastor had begun courting you, and even more so when the two of you had gotten married. Alastor wanted to give you the wedding of your dreams, and he did just that. Being as shy and reserved as you were, it was nothing grand. Just your closest friends and family. Alastor, sadly, didn't have any immediate family to invite, but yours had welcomed him with open arms. The large crowd that had greeted you two outside the church had been a welcomed surprise. Young couples and fans of Alastor's threw rice and flowers into the air, and camera bulbs flashed, capturing Alastor's proudest accomplishment. The front page of the newspaper the next morning housed a lovely photo that Alastor framed and hung in his studio.
Finding and marrying someone hadn't been part of Alastor's original plan, but he hadn't anticipated falling for you so hard either. The first instance your eyes had caught his gaze, he knew he was done for. Your reserved personality had clashed with his own boisterous and extroverted one, but it wasn't your shyness he found charming. It was your innate ability to see the good in people.
“Everyone harbors the capacity for good.”
Your words resonated within him and nearly made him rethink all of his past actions and wrongdoing. Alastor had never felt guilt before having met you. All of a sudden, he found himself standing before the divine being that was you. Selfless and unconditionally caring, he began questioning if he had done you wrong by marrying you. He was tainting you and unknowingly subjecting you to his sins. He was so undeserving of you, but he couldn't find it in himself to let you go. When Alastor looked at you, he saw everything his mother had been. Her maternal instinct and drive to nurture and protect those around her. Losing you would be like losing his mother all over again.
When the day came that you had expressed to Alastor your want for children, you hadn't expected his trademark smile to drop and for him to become angry. Alastor immediately withdrew himself from you and spent the rest of the evening brooding in his study. None of his anger had been directed at you, of course, but it concerned you why he felt the way he did about the topic. You granted Alastor his privacy, only sparing a few glances into the study throughout the evening as you went about your chores.
Alastor didn't move from his armchair until well into the night. The mantle clock on the fireplace had chimed midnight when he finally made his way to the master bedroom. You were sound asleep until the bed dipped by the weight of Alastor settling beside you, causing you to stir. Further roused by his warm lips against your neck, you turned onto your side so you were facing your husband. He was inebriated, having had more than a few glasses of Rye in his solitude. Whiskey always had a way of softening him up, but it also made him very amorous.
Someone as pure as yourself should never be defiled, but Alastor couldn't help wanting to have you in the most intimate of ways. Touching you, tasting you, feeling your perfectly manicured nails scraping down his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. His name would fall from your lips like a prayer as he moved inside you, working you both towards mutual release.
Alastor had told himself he would be nothing like his father. He wouldn't be the hateful drunk who had nearly beaten his wife within an inch of her life. Then, he would keep her afraid of him with the threat of violence at the slightest misstep. Killing that bastard brought Alastor no remorse, and he was surprised that his mother actually mourned his death. For years, he couldn't understand why anyone would feel pain over the death of someone who had inflicted so much pain upon them.
At least he hadn't until he met you. Then he came to realize that at one point, his mother and father had loved one another. Enough that they shared a life and family together. The war had taken his father from his family and returned to them the empty husk of a man so disturbed by what he saw that his mind waged war on itself and everyone around him.
Unfortunately for Alastor, if he had fathered a child that night, he would never know. He would be killed two weeks later while burying the body of his latest victim. Leaving his beloved and innocent wife to identify his body while being questioned by authorities about the hundred missing people that were found buried in the bayou. Alastor’s only regret was that you would be left to answer for his crimes. The crimes that you had been ignorant for your entire relationship.
Your heart shattered upon seeing Alastor lying there on the metal embalming table. Skin a sickly gray pallor and lips cyanotic, with a single bullet wound in the center of his forehead. The pain you felt was crushing, and agonizing sobs tore from your lips. You didn't want to believe that it was your husband lying there lifeless and not breathing. He couldn't be dead. You rested your head against his still chest and squeezed your eyes shut when you didn't hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, nor felt the rise and fall of his chest.
Alastor couldn't leave you like this - he wouldn't leave you like this. Neither of you were interested in a world without the other, and you simply couldn't see yourself carrying on without the man whom you considered your soul mate. Alastor had been the first man you loved, and he would be the last.
“Please wait for me,” you whispered against his cold lips between broken sobs. Your trembling hands cupped his face, and your thumbs stroked his cheeks. “I love you, Alastor.”
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rising-air-3 · 2 years
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