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midascrow · 2 months

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Alastor x Reader

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Favoritism Pt.2(1.5)

Part 1

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Synopsis: Alastor finds himself wondering why exactly he favors you so much

a/n: this is more of a part 1.5 really, as it’s mostly just Alastair’s perspective of what’s going on, but I figured you guys would enjoy this 🍓

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Fluffy red ears twitched back and fourth, listening to the idle and mindless chatter of the hotel inhabitants.

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of mirth at the topic of discussion. While he made no attempts to hide his blatant bias, he hadn’t thought he was quite that obvious.

Though a tiny part of him felt a bit smug, especially at the claim of that empty headed serpent. A kiss?

The idea wasn’t unpleasant but he was unfortunately mistaken.

The two of you had never shared such an intimate gesture, much less in the company of others.

No-, he supposed the closest you had ever gotten was a small bump of the nose to one another’s. It wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture on the radio demons part, more instinctual than anything, but he could suppose there had been a certain layer of affection lined in the action nonetheless.

“What do you suppose they’re talking about Al..?”

His ears twitched forward to fully take in the sound of your candied voice.

Alastor didn’t consider himself a fan of sweet things like candy and cakes. But he always seemed to make an exception when it came to you.

“Hm..~ Seems our dear friends are under the impression that you and I are…an item of sorts.” His smile twitched, inching upwards with amusement when he saw the way your eyes widened, a warmth on your cheeks that roused a small huff of pride from his nose.

“Oh…well that doesn’t..upset you?…right?” Your concern is down right precious. So bothered with his comfort that it makes the fabric of his tail coat shift, just briefly.

“Hmm~…perhaps if it were another sinner who they believed I had such relations with. However because it’s you my dear, I can’t seem to find myself bothered by the idea.”

You were far too naive. (Cute). Your sparkly gaze almost made him angry. Like he wanted to squeeze you till it eased the tight sensation in his chest. Though he wouldn’t dare to act on such an impulse. For fear of losing such pleasant company of course.

But he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you. Just a little. “Infact…I’d say I’m rather flattered by the notion~. To think they see me a fit partner for a gem like you.”

That feeling got subsequently stronger as he watched you bury your face into the crook of your shoulder, a shy, perhaps embarrassed smile painting your lips and making a that shifting of his tail coat return. Like those aforementioned sweets had found their way into his system and subsequently thrown him into a vicious sugar rush. His heart was practically bouncing off the walls of his ribcage, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.

“Alastor…” His name was a garbled whine, swatting at him playfully as you returned to dusting the bannister, distracting yourself as he sidled beside you still, ever attendant while his shadow fluttered around, moving glasses and nicknacks for you to dust off. “Are you going to tell them then..?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Your eyes glanced back, lips pursed. “Well…you are going to tell them we’re not together right?”

Well that sounded unpleasant, and his immediate thought had been an internal grimace. But he pondered the thought for a moment, mindful of the eyes on both your backs as he stepped around the side of you, clawed hands dancing across your shoulder and arm thoughtfully.

“Hmm…~..No.”

He paused, ears twitched backwards as his lips connected gently with the skin of your nose, sweet and lingering as he failed to ignore the twitch of his grin at the gasps that echoed behind.

“No fucking way.”

“I say let them wonder..~”

……

Alastor could admit, even by his standards this was a bit mean.

His “loving” gestures had amped up quite a bit the following week at the hotel.

Lingering touches, thoughtful hand placements, small gestures and sweet words. Nothing explicitly romantic…but there was always something implied in his gaze that perhaps even he himself wasn't aware of.

It wasn’t in an intentional effort to lead you on. He was hardly that cruel. But some part of him…found deep satisfaction in watching your eyes shine and your cheeks darken and become hot.

And that itch had only gotten worse too.

Sometimes it was small. An urge to pinch your cheek which he acted on, mindful of his claws in doing so. His ears always twitched at your disgruntled whines, always tuned to your words and noises. Even unintentionally.

There had been one moment when, your silly little self had gotten caught on that same rug, again. Alastor had been on the other side of the room, but the moment your squeak reached his ears, they swiveled back, and a mass of tentacles lurched up from the ground, gently rolling you onto you greet before disappearing like they had never existed.

And Alastor hadn’t even turned around, still idly chatting with the stunned princess who barely hid her ever widening smile.

Husker seemed the most displeased with his current antics. Always preaching to the others that this was a trick. That he was playing with you. Toying with you.

The radio demon wished that was the case now.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He knew he favored you above the others. That was natural. Instinctual. Obvious. And while the others reactions, especially those of the spear wielding ex angel and the gambler were fairly amusing, if that had been the soul purpose it was likely he would’ve grown bored by now. And he would’ve stopped.

But it wasn’t. And he hadn’t.

And it was all becoming a bit overwhelming.

Yet you didn’t question it. Sometimes your brow would raise, at a particularly bold gesture or comment sent your way, and yes your eyes would dart around as if to see who was watching. But you never complained. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were enjoying yourself, if the sweetheart smile that graced your lips after each instance was anything to go off.

So Alastor didn’t feel the need to label what he was experiencing or truly ponder why. He was enjoying himself, as were you. To him, nothing needed to be said.

“So are you two bangin or nah?”

Though he supposed not everyone felt the same.

Taglist: @preciousbabypeter @ouroborostheunholy @chirimeimei @shanksstrawhat @for-hearthand-home @random-3455 @ittoehurt @salutations-demonsanddappers

(Anyone who wanted to be tagged and wasn’t, for whatever reason your blogs weren’t showing up,🍓)

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

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the-californicationist · 3 months

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he teaches you new tricks

John Price convinces you to try using a butt plug for the first time, letting you use his ass for practice. It has definitely awakened something in you, and you're ready for more…

Warning: butt stuff, obviously.

It started innocently at first, fumbling and awkward, in the dark. John came home from deployment one day, ravenous and hungry, fingering you through the open leg of your pajama shorts, aiming for your sweet cunt. But, with a gasp from you and a gasp from him, he realized that he missed and landed his digits in a different destination. Your body’s response had been instinctual, and completely out of your control. Certainly the ragged moan he coaxed from your mouth by his accidental caress was not planned. It excited him, that much was obvious, and you discovered, as your mind processed the feelings stirring in your body, it excited you, too.

After that, he’d find excuses to lick you lower and lower, abandoning your pussy in favor of the tight bridge between your holes, even daring to flick his long tongue into what was previously a forgotten or even forbidden territory. Where you would have moved your hips out of his reach before, now you remained pliantly still, waiting for him to push his luck. Egging him on with your submission. When he grabbed your ass, his fingers would pull the cheek away just to reveal your asshole to him, thumbing it gently as he fucked you from behind, and you could feel him looking at it with a novel interest.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been asked to consider anal sex. Price was not your first lover, but he was the first one who stood any chance of gleaning a positive response to the age-old query. He tested the waters one night while he railed inside of you, taking himself to the brink of pleasure, impairing his own judgment in a fog of bliss, nearly begging,

“You wanna try it out, love? Hm? You like my finger in there, now, dontcha?”

Your anguished cries were not a no, but they were not enough of a yes.

Later, after the fireworks died down, you lay against him, sweaty and sated, and looked up at him, musing,

“You’re so big, though…”

“Hmm?”

“Might be too much.”

“What are you sayin’, love?”

“You wanted to try anal, you said,” your voice was barely above a whisper, resonating in the hollow against his chest.

There was a long pause, and then, a smiling response through pleased sighs,

“Only if you want to. I’m more than happy as it is, clearly.”

“Would it hurt?” You asked.

“No,” he shook his head confidently, “Shouldn’t hurt. Feels different, though.”

“We could try it,” you pushed your offering out into the quiet between you.

He sighed,

“Don’t be doin’ this for my benefit. I told you, love, I’m not -”

“No,” you sat firm in your choice, “I wanna try. I don’t know…well, I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Tha’s okay. I’ll show ya, and hey -” he lifted your chin to look at him, gazing down at you with full sincerity, “We can stop anytime. Say it.”

You smiled, recognizing his tone,

“We can stop anytime.”

John cuddled you closer to him, wrapping his body around yours and pulling up the sheet, growling approvingly in your ear,

“Good girl.”

“How much should I put?” You asked, staring at the back of the bottle of lube, reading the vague instructions.

“Here,” he took it from you and showed you the little pearl of clear liquid on his fingers.

You handed him the smooth, silicone plug he’d brought home. He showed you the different sizes, the smallest being smaller than his finger - which you rejected - and the medium, and then the large. None of them had been too terribly intimidating. Price had been very serious about informing you of the dangers of not having a “flared base”, extolling the virtues of the T-shaped base he’d selected, touting its comfort and security.

He rubbed the largest plug with the lube before reaching around and rubbing himself between his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” You asked, not entirely sure what you were witnessing.

“Want you to practice putting it in, so…” he smirked, blushing a bit from his finger’s ministrations, “You can use me to see how it goes.”

“W-w-what? Are you serious? You would do that for me?” You were positively aghast at his lack of boundaries.

You had never expected any man in your life to be so free from society's Puritanical norms that he would even allow you to witness his asshole, much less put a butt plug into it - and not just for pleasure, but to educate you? You froze like a deer trapped in headlights, unable to proceed.

“You don’t have to. You should feel the pressure, though, and see it happening. Makes it less scary, I think,” he held his hands up, not wanting to make you do anything you weren’t on board with.

You shook your head, snapping out of your surprise,

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t expect you to be okay with that.”

“I’m asking you to do it, so I should be able to do it, right?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, rubbing his naked body against yours, turning you on again.

John lay down on the edge of the bed, flat on his back, and spread his legs for you, hanging his muscular ass off of the side, rubbing his cock a bit for comfort and because he was getting obviously excited. His expressions during this whole ordeal had been positively boyish, full of bright anticipation. The novelty of taking your anal virginity fueled his giddy joy.

You knelt between his legs, aiming the tip of the plug at his shining asshole, watching him thrust his hand against his hardening length erotically. Carefully, and too slowly, you touched the plug to his dark hole, surrounded by his curly, thick hair, using your other hand to lift his heavy balls out of the way.

Right at the first whisper of a touch, he groaned deeply. Encouraged, you pressed forward, meeting some resistance. Scared of hurting him, you paused there, keeping the tension but too afraid to go forward.

“Push it in, love. Bit harder than that… please - yeah, fuck!”

Then, just as you applied more pressure, his hole stretched further and the plug disappeared inside of him, like a cork into a bottle, flush. John let out a groan, long and low, full of heady satisfaction.

Well, that wasn’t so scary, you thought. Unable to contain your desire, you tugged gently at his balls again, licking up to the base of his growing dick. He cried out again, enjoying the abundance of sensations.

“Careful, love. I’ll come easy like this.”

“That good, John?” You rubbed his legs and abdomen affectionately, staring down at his occupied asshole, wanting very badly to feel what he was feeling.

“So good. You wanna try?” He rolled over, sliding to the floor carefully, his cheeks rosy and warm as he kneeled down beside you, “Stand up for me, love.”

You stood, suddenly nervous. Price could tell. Your hesitation rolled off of your body language like a siren. He started to finger your pussy, enjoying the wetness in you, admiring the way you were already swollen and pulsing for him. His warm mouth kissed and licked your folds, drawing out long, luxurious moans from your throat, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Just as you thought he might make you come, he grabbed the lube from the nightstand and smeared it over his fingers, painting it onto your asshole. The slick feeling was enough to make you jolt, and you held onto his shoulders for balance.

“C’mere, baby. Lay down for me,” he commanded in a careful timbre, moving your body as his had been on the mattress.

Price lifted your legs, grabbing you behind the knees and spreading you open, unable to resist eating your pussy when he did so, bending his head to taste you fully. Your orgasm was coiled up in your like a snake, ready to strike at any moment.

Then, you felt it, the tip of the medium-sized plug made cold contact with your asshole, and it sent a shock through your core. You gasped, and Price took it back, saying,

“You alright, love?”

You nodded,

“You can do it. I’m okay.”

He pressed it back against your hole more confidently, pushing it into you until you felt stretched and open. Then, just as you had felt it slot into him, you felt it as it popped delightfully into you, feeling strange and extremely sensitive.

Price immediately went to your clit, licking it and fingering you inside of your pussy, and you felt the coil wind up again, stronger and more furious than before, stoked by the stimulation of your ass. He made you come, groaning right along with you, his eyes transfixed to your slick core, watching you pulse and clench around his hand. Each clench made the plug shift inside of you, rubbing against your insides, creating sparks in a place where there had never been any before.

“Talk to me. How are you doing?” Price asked, rubbing your belly and thighs, comforting you.

“It’s…strange. But, it’s good. Really good, actually,” you admitted, smiling, playing with your breasts lazily, coming down from your high.

“Want me to play with you?”

You nodded,

“Please.”

John hooked his first two fingers into the T-bar of the flexible plug, and he began to pull it out. You felt it stretching you, and then you felt a terrible emptiness when he removed it. You whimpered, involuntarily, and then gasped when he pushed it back in again. He was thrusting it in and out of you achingly slowly, letting you feel every little movement, telegraphing his actions as explicitly as he could, making sure you could see as much of his arm as possible. You were eager to feel more of it, and you told him,

“John... Feels so good. Faster, please.”

He obliged, and you understood, finally, the appeal. It wasn’t just your asshole that was sending sensation information to your brain. It was your pussy as well. The wall between your two holes was incredibly sensitive, and you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as he fucked you with your new toy. Suddenly, he stopped and crawled over you, angling his cock to press into your pussy, slipping in easily through your slick come.

You screamed, then. It was so intense, and you could feel both him and the plug battling each other for space as he began to thrust into you. Your shout stopped him at once, and he held his weight off of you,

“You’re hurt?”

You felt him start to pull out, panicked. You grabbed his waist, stopping him,

“Don’t go, baby.”

His sigh was pure elation, and he fed himself back into you, picking up a thumping rhythm that made the plug dance to his steady beat, teasing you incessantly. You were going to come so quickly and so hard. You could feel the build up, and it was like a stampede. Trying to warn him, you fought to catch your breath,

“John, I’m com-”

“Me, too, love. Bloody hell,” he spoke to you through gritted teeth, his pupils blown and full of a dark possession.

You came together, gasping and keening, feeling him rolling through his orgasm like a tidal wave, filling you up quickly.

He slid out of you, trying to catch his breath, and he carefully removed the plug, leaving you feeling hollow, full of a sort of sexual grief, a part of you begging to be filled again right away, bereft and missing your lover and his tools.

“Holy shit,” you whispered.

“Sorry, love. You alright? Sorry…it was - It was too much for me. Couldn’t last,” he was coming undone at the seams.

“More than alright, I think. That was…something else,” you smiled, earning yourself a wide grin in return.

You watched him carefully remove the plug from himself, laying them on the washcloth on the small table. John reached for the other two soft rags that he had set out, and he used one to clean you up. He was so diligent in making sure he didn’t put you at any risk of infection, and you could tell it was taking everything he had to concentrate on his work.

It had been almost a week since you’d had your adventure in toyland with John, and you were snuggling into him on the sofa, playing with the waistband of his pants absentmindedly, watching Liverpool and Tottenham. You weren’t sure how to push the envelope, so you just came right out and asked him,

“Do you want to fuck my ass tonight?”

He was mid-sip on his ale, and he nearly choked to death. His whole body convulsed as he coughed, hacking through the invasive liquid, trying to breathe. You’d startled him, and while you were a little sorry, you were also a little not.

“Wh-what, love?” He asked through coughs, his face red and full of wide surprise.

“I thought we could try. You know, if you wanted to.”

“Fuuuuuckin’ hell,” he caught his breath, smiling at you, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead, fully ignoring the game, “Yeah, yeah, I would do. Yeah, now?”

You giggled, curling into him cozily,

“You’ve got forty minutes left in this match, babe.”

John didn’t reply. He clicked the screen off with his remote and scooped you off the couch, carried you into the bedroom, and playfully tossed you onto the big mattress. You were laughing with nervous excitement, impressed by his reaction. His expression was still one of genuine surprise, but along the edges, you could see a tremendous needy desire. His tone was still bright and playful, but now it was heavy with lustful warning,

“Clothes off, love. You lit a fuckin’ match, you did.”

He raked his shirt off his torso and threw it away, shucking off his jeans and socks like he was in a race, slipping his boxers off to prowl over you, fully naked and hard as a stone, leaking as his cock rubbed along your thigh. You’d almost matched him, but you still had your panties on, and he peeled them from you unceremoniously, his lips finding yours and slanting against his bearded mouth. He slipped his tongue past your teeth, dragging it along yours, licking you with a delicate longing, making your body ready and willing to respond to his every whim.

Price was right of course, you had lit a match. He had one thing on his mind, and he let you know it. His mouth kissed its way down your body until it found your asshole, which he began to lick and writhe his way inside, lapping along the edges and onto your cheeks, devouring you. His fingers joined his efforts, rimming around the edges, sending clear signals to your body as he did so, and then he began to carefully invade your hole, prepping you for his intrusion.

The way he scissored his fingers in you was enough to send your mind soaring with pleasure, but when he reached for the bottle of lube, your nerves returned. Your body stilled, and your breathing became more shallow. He smeared the lube against you and slowed things way, way down.

“You alright, love? I won’t hurt you, baby, you know that,” he bent to kiss your neck, “You want me to stop?”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, I’m just nervous.”

“Tha’s okay,” he smiled, “Brave girl. Being so good for me. Hungry for me, hm?”

“Yeah, I am,” you felt the waves of pleasure return at his praise-filled words. He knew what you wanted to hear, and he was happy to oblige.

Once he was pleased with your flexibility, he positioned himself at your asshole, slippery with lube and his thick precome, his cock jerking with excitement, rigid and stretching for you. The smooth, fleshy head of his dick pressed against your muscles, willing them to relent.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Price coached you.

You tried to breathe deeply, feeling yourself relax. Then, his head popped into you, mimicking the feeling of the plug. You sighed deeply, reveling in the familiar feeling. However, unlike the plug, Price had plenty more ground to cover, and he pushed himself deeper in the slowest, gentlest way possible. He was groaning the entire time, whining darkly in an animalistic way, like a wolf snarling in a fight, tense and stressed.

Wanting him to feel pleasure with you, your hands went to his belly, celebrating his body, rubbing him lovingly, rewarding him for his careful treatment.

He hit another boundary of some kind, stopping his progress. John meet your eyes, and it was so filthy, the way he looked at you, you felt yourself pulse around him. You watched (with no small level of pride) as his eyes rolled back into his head, showing you their fluttering whites like a vicious shark, ready to snap. He whispered to you, recovering a bit,

“Breathe deep for me. One, two, three…that’s it, love, good girl. Such a good girl for me. Yes-yes-yes… ohhh…”

The rest of him pressed its way into you, and you were truly filled. As he sheathed himself, he waited there, breathing with you, relaxing into you as you relaxed, his cock simply sitting inside of you, hard and warm.

“You okay?” He asked, quiet and falsely calm.

You nodded, cupping his bearded cheek,

“Yes, baby. I’m good. So fucking good.”

Reserved and heavily restrained, he began to thrust into you slow and easy, making the most delicious faces as he did so. It felt like a dream and time stretched out around you in all directions. He created waves and waves of pleasure for you. You were so full and warm, and your clit was tingling without being touched, excited by the sparkling sensation of Price fucking your ass. You reached down to touch yourself, hissing at the pleasure of your own touch, and Price was salaciously injured by it,

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell. Yes, baby. Just like that. Touch yourself… Shite! I’m not gonna last.”

You fondled your clit until you began to buzz from it, feeling the chill of an orgasm creep up your spine. You wanted him to join you, so you pushed him, knowing he was vulnerable,

“That’s my big bear, making me feel so fucking full. Want you to come in my ass. Wanna feel it inside me,” you doused the fire you’d built in him with kerosene words, and you grinned as you watched the resulting blaze.

“Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck!”

His come was thick and hot as it spilled out into you, and you could feel it inside of your asshole, wet and soft, folding around his cockhead as he thrust up into his own fluids. Pure bliss was painted across his face, and you covered yourself in his joy like a heavy coat, surrounded by it, and proud of your work, glad he was such a willing teacher.

You loved learning new tricks.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price smut #john price x reader #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader

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yurinaa-world · 4 months

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Could I request Blade, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng getting headpats from their short s/o?

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng x Female Reader

Synopsis: Headpats from their short s/o

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Confused why you did something like that? He’s so awestruck. Is it possible for you to do it again?

Blade leaned down, took your head, and placed it on top of his head. You looked at him, confused by his actions. "Blade, do you need something?” “Pat my head,” he said blankly. No way he was asking you to pat his head?! It was the first time he said anything like this before!

“You want to pat your head?” You asked for confirmation just in case you heard it wrong somehow.

"I put your hand on my head. I want to pat my head." Blade repeated himself with a bit more vigour in his voice, starting to get annoyed, hoping you would hurry up and start instead of asking questions, like, was it that hard to believe?

You gently patted his head, and he closed his eyes contently as you scratched his scalp lightly while moving your fingers through his hair. He could feel your palm moving softly on his head.

After what felt like forever to him, but only a few minutes later, he opened his eyes again and saw you staring intently at him with concern. "Blade, are you ok?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, trying to hide the blush that crept onto his face with your touch.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

How adorable you are, wanting him lower down so you can pat his head, hmm he’ll indulge your little desire of affection but don’t expect he would tease before he does such a thing.

“Jing yuan, lower your head for me,” you request, wanting to vividly give him a pat on the head but too short. "Hm, does my sweet lover want to give me affection?" he teases, even though you were the one giving it to him!

You blush at his teasing before a frown comes over your face. “Just do as I ask." “What if I decide not to?" “Then you're getting nothing from me!" You threaten him with your finger pointed toward him.

He lets out a laugh before leaning down as you command, and you pat the top of his white hair and also ring your hands. You look at him lovingly, smiling, before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Surprisingly, you let me do it without teasing me much."

“I’m always obedient to you; are there any more requests, your highness?”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

He gets so flustered by touch but a pat on the head just makes his ears go blood shot red and also doesn’t help with your teasing.

Dan Heng's face went red when you asked him if you could pat his head. The most simple form of affection had his heart beating out of his chest.

“Dan Heng, are you blushing?" you ask in a teasing tone. “Your ears are all red and hot." He was so cute, it made your heart ache a little bit.

You touch his hot ear; it was really hot. "Aw, I like my affection that much,” you whisper in his ear, playing with his mind, making him blush even more.

His cheeks were already flushed from his embarrassment, but the way you whispered in his ear made him turn redder; it was embarrassing.

You pat his black hair, “so handsome and cute." You coo at how adorable Dan looked in this moment.

“How can I stop myself from spoiling you?”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #star rail x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x you #honkai blade x you

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carolmunson · 3 days

Text

ocs!eddie always.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, shoulder bumping yours where you sit up against the wall on your bed in your studio apartment, “Babydoll, put your glasses on.”

You don’t realize it, but you’ve been squinting at the TV for the better half of five minutes.

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache,” he says matter of factly while you get on all fours to reach to your bedside table for your frames.

“You give me a headache,” you mumble with a laugh, sliding the wire rims onto your face. You settle back next to him, his tattooed hand sliding over your thigh.

“Hm?” he quirks, one brow raising with his dimples on full display, “I what?”

“You. Give me. A headache,” you annunciate slowly, getting closer to his face with each word. He grins the same boyish grin you’ve come to love, his slightly overgrown facial hair bristles against you while you get close to his lips.

“I dunno about that, Peach,” he grizzles out, noses brushing, “Think I’ve cured a headache or two.”

“Hmm,” you consider, “Maybe.”

Eddie leans forward, sealing you together with his lips. Gentle and sweet, not wanting to go further than a few soft kisses while you’re wrapped up watching TV.

“Did I ever tell you how much I like these on you?” He asks against your lips, kissing your cheek before pulling away just slightly to look you over. The reflection of the TV glitters in his brown eyes, reflecting off his own frames.

“You tell me all the time,” you smile.

“I do, don’t I?” he laughs. You settle under his arm, back to snuggled up.

After a while your gaze ticks up at him, “You’re right, I can read the subtitles better now.”

“Yeah,” he nods, a sweet kiss on your forehead, “Bet you can, four eyes.”

#older!eddie #orange colored sky

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trashogram · 12 days

Text

More HCY Fluff:

*** ‘—Full of shine and full of sparkle Close your eyes and see it glisten, Cha-arlie Listen, Charlieeee!’

Lucifer leaned in with a smile that split into a full grin as Charlie wiggled and giggled in his hands. Water was splashed here and there in the little sink-turned-baby-bath, and the Devil was grateful he’d positioned their little cathedral radio far away from its range.

The baby wriggled some more when Lucifer’s eyes flickered away for even the briefest second. Her love for attention wasn’t novel considering her lineage, but it was ever so endearing. Lucifer very, very gently washed the suds from her rich mop of hair.

‘Put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there… hm hm hmm…’ The King bobbed his head from side-to-side with the radio. ‘Hmm hm hm— in white, In a perfumed night Where the lights are bright as the stars!’

When all the suds were scrubbed away, Lucifer lifted the baby up and onto the nest of folded towels he’d made. He laughed as Charlotte instantly kicked around with her roly-poly legs. Who knew babies had so much energy!

She whined and Lucifer answered it with a coo. “Aww, it’s ok Char Char. Almost done!”

The new father focused on wiping away the bath water from Charlie’s apple cheeks and out of her fleecy hair. Instantly, the tiny antichrist smiled, chasing after his hand in the fibers of the cloth. Her tail instinctively wound around his wrist as much as it could, keeping him close.

After snuggly wrapping her up, Lucifer relented and took his daughter back into his arms, cradling her close.

‘—And we'll close the town in a whirl—’ He spun on his feet as carefully as he could before planting a big, dramatic kiss on the giggly girl’s cheek, ‘But we won't come home until we've kissed a girl!’

With Charlie laughing, and the sink draining, Lucifer soft-shoed out of the grand bathroom with the radio floating behind him.

Just in time, you were walking through the door, Razzle and Dazzle trotting at your heels. That technological doohickey that you’d carried around to run things was clutched in your hands, and many more were balanced on Dazzle’s back behind you as if he were a pack mule. Razzle was pushing a basket of scrolls forward opposite his brother.

Lucifer would have frowned had you not started humming along to the radio, most likely unconsciously. And, as soon as you looked up and saw his waiting grin as well as the bundle in his arms, you put it down on the nearest surface.

Another thing to chalk up to the ‘like father, like daughter’ saying: Charlie sensed your presence and squealed madly, happily, as soon as she spotted you. Lucifer had to shift the little girl in his arms to prevent her from flying out of his grip in her pursuit of you.

They met you in the middle of the bedroom, and Lucifer took a moment to soak up your appraising look. It was silly, but he felt proud presenting himself and your freshly cleaned child, all cozy and ready for bed.

“Oop!” Lucifer snapped his fingers together (barely, still preoccupied with holding the bouncing infant) and Charlie was fully clothed in a butter-yellow onesie. “Ready for bed now, ma’am!”

You snickered. “At ease, soldier.”

Lucifer smiled so widely it practically hurt, but his heart was light and his life was full. You gathered him up in your arms, with Charlie slowly settling down between the two of you, and the King couldn’t help the lovesick sigh that escaped him.

‘And this I'm positive of That we won't come home That we won't come home No we won't come home until we fall in love!’

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hcy #More musicalsssss

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [35] - Verbena Flower

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: One can find a home in their chosen family.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 3200

Series Masterlist

You weren’t half as restless as you thought you would be, considering the recent events. If it were the beginning of the season, you would have been horrified at the idea of your parents being back but now?

You felt strangely safe, which was rather unexpected.

“Y/N!” Teddy rushed into the drawing room, almost breathless with excitement. “I have a surprise for you, and Benedict helped!”

You tilted your head, putting your book to the side and sat up straighter in the sofa.

“A surprise?” you asked, already smiling. “Is that why you two didn’t let me go in the studio?”

“Yes!” Teddy said, still holding something behind his back as Benedict appeared by the doorstep.

“Did you plan this?” you asked and he shook his head, grinning slightly.

“Completely Teddy’s idea.”

“Guess what it is!” Teddy insisted while Benedict leaned sideways to the door and you turned to Teddy.

“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “It’s a…is it a drawing?”

Teddy shook his head fervently, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Benedict will teach me how to draw but not yet!” he said, obviously pleased that you couldn’t guess it right. He giggled, then held up the small sculpture figure.

“Here!” he said, “It’s for you!”

“Oh my goodness!” you gasped, taking it from him and stealing a look at Benedict. “This is absolutely wonderful Teddy! A figure of a huma—cactus!” you corrected yourself mid-sentence when Benedict shook his head and mouthed it without Teddy seeing him.

“A cactus yes!” Teddy exclaimed, “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you said with a huge smile. “Thank you so much Teddy! I will keep it forever.”

“I’m going to make them for uncle and auntie as well!” Teddy said and ran out of the drawing room, wheezing past Benedict. You suppressed a laugh, then looked down at the small sculpture again.

“Where are the needles?”

“He said putting those on it would make it a classic cactus and that he didn’t want that,” he said as he walked inside to fling himself on the armchair. “It’s a different cactus, he says.”

“Artists…” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head slightly and took a deep breath. “Hey, Benedict?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you said. “For you know, spending time with Teddy.”

“He’s family,” Benedict stated, making you smile. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”

“It’s just that—he looks up to you so much,” you said. “No one else really taught him anything about art.”

He gave you a grin. “I’m telling you, he will be a very successful sculptor.”

“I just hope he will be happy, that’s all,” you said and bit down on your lip. “How’s your hand by the way?”

“Oh it feels much better,” Benedict said, curling his fingers as if checking for the pain and you cleared your throat.

“But should you even be painting or sculpting?” you asked him. “I think you should be resting your hand, no?”

“It’s fine, I promise,” he assured you. “Hey, you do know he can stay with us as long as he wants, don’t you?”

Your head shot up. “Hm?”

“Teddy,” he said. “You’re worried because he’s staying with your aunt and uncle and you think your father and mother might show up there again.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Can you read my mind or something?”

“Or something,” he said with a smile. “Seriously though. He already has a room here, it’s his house too.”

You pulled your brows together in deep in thought before you shook your head slightly.

“I should probably see how it’s going to go before taking those precautions,” you said. “I don’t want him to get all confused and such and even though I want him close, uncle and aunt have been doing a great job so…”

Benedict nodded. “Whenever you want.”

“But I was thinking,” you said. “Perhaps I should tell your mother about some of it.”

Benedict tilted his head.

“You don’t have to.”

“No I won’t—obviously I won’t tell her about the details, just that…just that my parents are here and we don’t have the best relationship,” you said. “Knowing my parents, they’ll try to meet your family and I honestly don’t want that.”

“Do you want me there with you?”

“I was thinking you could inform Anthony actually?” you asked and hissed in a breath. “Because you know, he and I don’t exactly have the friendliest relationship.”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice, surprising as it may,” Benedict pointed out, making you giggle. “He already asked me what happened to my hand.”

“And?”

“I told him I had an accident with a palette knife.”

“But your palette knives aren’t exactly sharp?”

“You say that like Anthony knows what a palette knife is,” Benedict said, making you bite down on your lip to contain your laughter. “It has the word knife in it, so he didn’t exactly question what happened.”

A giggle escaped from your lips.

“That’s smart of you,” you said and tilted your head. “I suppose you’re not merely looks after all.”

He shot you that lopsided grin that always managed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Well—”

“Benedict!” Teddy’s voice carried into the room, cutting Benedict off. “Can you come and check if these ones look good please?”

Benedict chuckled and got up from the armchair as you cleared your throat.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “I can—”

“To repeat, he’s family,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss on your head. “Let me know when we’re leaving hm?”

“…Alright,” you said and watched him walk out of the drawing room. You stared at the door where he disappeared for a couple of seconds, his pleasant scent still in your lungs and pressed a hand over your chest to at least soothe your fast heartbeat that had got crazy the minute he kissed you. You slid a little on the sofa, then threw your shoulders back and grabbed your book, trying your hardest to focus.

When you got to the Bridgerton House, Benedict dragged Anthony and Colin outside, leaving you to talk to Lady Bridgerton comfortably. Lady Bridgerton had always been incredibly nice to you before or after your wedding to Benedict, and though you hadn’t gone out of your way to spend a lot of time with her, you hoped she knew how much you respected her.

Besides, it was likely that she assumed you and Benedict were still in your honeymoon phase so she didn’t mind.

“I’m so glad you came for tea Y/N!” she said. “Eloise will be sorry to have missed you, she went to visit Penelope.”

“It’s alright Lady Bridgerton,” you said. “I was actually hoping to talk to you alone.”

She gasped, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Oh my goodness, I hope this is not about what was on Lady Whistledown yesterday!”

“It’s—sorry, what?” you asked, suddenly distracted. “What was that?”

She blinked a couple of times.

“Oh I assumed…” she trailed off. “I assumed this was what brought this on.”

“I don’t read Whistledown,” you said. “Neither does Ben—what was on it?”

“Just some unfounded rumors,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “Nothing important.”

“Can I see?” you asked and she motioned at the paper on the small coffee table.

“Third paragraph,” she said helpfully, and your eyes skimmed the lines.

Speaking of newly married couples, we sure hope that our favorite artist Mr. Bridgerton’s love for his wife is not turning out to be an infatuation like many assumed it was. He seemed like he had a lot to talk about with Lady Margery Sutton the other day at the park, and as it was noticed by a lot of members of the ton at the park, the two seemed like they were having quite fun while Mrs. Bridgerton preferred the companionship of Miss Harlowe, soon to be Viscountess Bridgerton. We trust that it was just a friendly conversation between two ladies rather than Mrs. Bridgerton finding herself in the same position that Miss Harlowe once did if the rumors were true; being heartbroken by the same man.

“What the…” you trailed off and shook your head fervently, frowning at the paper before raising your glances from it. “This is not true. Everything is fine between me and Benedict, and Margery is a friend, that’s all.”

“Of course,” Lady Bridgerton said. “Benedict is in love with you, everyone knows that.”

You held up the paper, trying to ignore that uncomfortable sinking in your stomach. “Not everyone.”

“Don’t mind Lady Whistledown,” she said. “She has her whole attention on Anthony and Lottie nowadays, these rumors will go away before you know it.”

You tried to shake off the image of Margery and Benedict together, then cleared your throat.

“I am so happy for Anthony and Lottie by the way,” you said. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”

“Neither can I,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m just glad they’re finally together, after years.”

“They’ll be very happy together.”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked and you took a deep breath, running a hand over your face.

“Lady Bridgerton, um…” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this situation actually but I thought you should know before anyone else, and Benedict kindly agreed—”

“Oh my God!” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Y/N, you’re with child!”

“Wh—no!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as you shook your head. “I’m not! It’s not like that Lady Bridgerton, I assure you.”

“Oh,” she lowered her hands. “My apologies.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you fixed the silky skirts of your gown.

“So I’m sure you noticed that my parents weren’t at the wedding breakfast or the engagement or anything,” you started. “And I know I said it was because the road would be too difficult for them from the countryside to here but it wasn’t the actual truth. They weren’t here because I didn’t invite them to any of it.”

She pulled her brows together in confusion.

“Why not?”

“My parents and I…” you trailed off, nibbling on your lip. “We don’t have the best relationship.”

She stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.

“While I was growing up, they—” you paused for a moment. “They’re not like you or my aunt and uncle, they weren’t the nicest while me and Josie were growing up. That’s actually why my uncle took us in, me and Teddy.”

She pressed her lips together.

“I’m telling you this because they’re in town actually,” you forced yourself to say. “They might approach you or Anthony or—I don’t know. I’m not certain, but I wanted you to know, just in case.”

She reached out to hold your hand in hers, offering you an assuring smile.

“Does Benedict know?”

“Oh yes,” you said, nodding your head. “He has known for a while now about…my home life growing up. And he also knows that they’re in town, he’s telling Anthony as we speak.”

“And are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said almost automatically. “Sure.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s just that they’re not…” you thought for a second. “I don’t want them to put you or your family in a situation you do not want to, Lady Bridgerton, and I will do my best to make sure—”

“Y/N, you are family,” she said and you bit down on your lip.

“You don’t have to say that just because Benedict and I are married.”

“Sweetheart,” she said, squeezing your hand in a loving manner. “You became family the moment Benedict fell in love with you.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes and a teary laugh escaped from your lips.

“Might not have been his best decision.”

“I disagree,” she said. “It makes me so happy to see you two in love and happy, and please know that you are a member of our family. We will always love you and protect you, no matter what.”

Your throat tightened as you tried to blink back the tears.

“Thank you,” you rasped out. “It…it means more than you know.”

“Of course,” she said and patted your hand. “By the way, does this have something to do with Benedict’s hand being bandaged?”

You raised your brows, then shook your head.

“Uh no,” you said. “A palette knife accident, that’s all.”

After having tea with Lady Bridgerton, you decided to go to the pastry shop and sit down alone with your book for an hour or two before going back home. Your parents being back still managed to make you feel rather tense especially after talking about it with someone else, so you ordered some coffee and a slice of cake and opened your book, desperate to get away from your thoughts.

Yet, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

It hadn’t even been a couple of minutes since the shop owner brought you your tea and cake that you heard the chair opposite to yours being pulled, the noise making you look up and as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach.

She looked exactly like you remembered her. Her clothes were different, probably thanks to the money your uncle kept sending them every month, but other than that, it felt as if it could’ve been yesterday since you had last seen her. Your jaw clenched and you dug your fingernails into your palm before gritting your teeth, rolling your shoulders back to sit up straighter.

“Hello mother,” you forced yourself to say and she clutched at her chest, shaking her head as if she was overtaken by emotions.

“Y/N,” she said. “Oh my dearest daughter…”

A scoff escaped from your lips at that and you leaned backwards in your seat as soon as she took a step towards you.

“Do not,” you growled and she paused for a moment, then sat down on the chair.

“Look at you,” she said, her eyes darting over your face before lowering to your dress. “You are a young woman of the ton now. A proper lady.”

You arched a brow. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I had to see you of course!” she said. “My little Y/N, an actual member of the ton now… I cannot believe it, I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t be, you had nothing to do with it,” you pointed out and she heaved a sigh.

“Let’s not start that, shall we?” she said, making you raise your brows. “At least wait a while until you start being so bitter.”

“So bitter?” you repeated, letting out a dry laugh. “Jesus Christ.”

“How is Teddy?”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare and she let out a breath.

“There it is, that glare,” she said. “Some things do not change at all. You were like this when you were little as well, just sitting there and judging people, glaring at us as if you were better than us.”

“I mean that’s not very difficult,” you pointed out. “It’s not as if you’re setting the bar high to be honest.”

“Y/N, for old times’ sake,” she said. “Let’s catch up first before you attack me.”

“Oh sure,” you said, “What old times are we talking about by the way? The time father threatened to kick Josie out of the house, or when he slammed my head to the wall and you stood there doing nothing?”

She shook her head fervently. “That’s not how I remember it.”

You clenched your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I forgot you did that,” you muttered more to yourself and she cleared her throat.

“How is your husband?”

“My husband broke your husband’s nose a couple of nights ago,” you said. “Did you not see? Or has that prick not come home still, drinking himself to oblivion somewhere?”

“I’m sure that fight has an explanation.”

“Father disrespected me,” you stated. “That’s the explanation.”

“He may have lost his temper, some old habits die hard but,” she said, “he’s a changed man, Y/N.”

You tilted your head. “Of course,” you said. “I’m sure he is. He is a changed man after his fifth drink, then after eighth he becomes who he is again.”

“Well you and your sister didn’t help,” she said through her teeth. “What with Josie always badmouthing him and you always glaring. You both were always up to something, showing him disrespect, of course you needed a firm hand—”

“And you did nothing.”

“He’s my husband.”

“We were your children, mother!” you snapped and shook your head. “Actually you know what? None of that matters now.”

“You’re married now too,” she said. “So what if I let him discipline you? You have a husband now, you know how—”

“Benedict would rather die than raise a hand to me,” your voice came out as a growl. “Don’t ever disrespect him by trying to lump him together with your husband.”

She heaved a sigh.

“Naïve as always,” she said. “And so very sensitive.”

You could feel the anger boiling at your throat but you pressed your lips together.

“You know,” you trailed off, running your fingertip over the fork on the table. “In my nightmares I’m back home with you two. I suppose it’s because my mind cannot conjure up anything more horrifying than that, but then I wake up and I realize that I never will be back in that hell. It’s quite relieving, really.”

She held your gaze for a couple of seconds, then tsk tsked.

“All this grudge is not good for you, Y/N,” she said. “Especially concerning your family. I’m worried about you.”

You gawked at her, a calmness washing over you as you let the words sink in, then took a deep breath and closed your book, smiling at her.

“Oh don’t worry about me, mother,” you said, pride clear in your voice. “Honestly. Because after this little, unpleasant conversation, I’ll get in my carriage and go home to my husband who happens to be the most handsome and talented and amazing man in the ton—scratch that, in the world— and who, if I may add, is completely in love with me. And while we’re eating dinner in our huge mansion that uncle gifted us as a wedding gift and then going to the next ball or social outing only to be surrounded by the people I actually care about, I won’t be worried about you. I won’t be thinking about you at all.”

She looked almost frozen by the impact of your words and you reached into your reticule to take out a couple of coins, then put them on the table and got up from your chair, putting your palms on the table to lean in slightly so that she could hear you.

“I already have a family,” you said, your voice nearly a hiss. “And you and your husband are of no use to me or my real family. Go back to the hellhole you crawled out of, and leave us all alone.”

With that, you walked out of the pastry shop, a proud smile curling your lips as you approached the carriage waiting for you by the street.

“Where to, ma’am?”

“Home please,” you said as you got in the carriage without sparing a glance back to the pastry shop window. “Thank you.”

Chapter 36

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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astrozuya · 15 days

Text

☆ SUNDAY MORNING — hong joshua.

⊹ . ♡ pairings. joshua x male!reader. fluff. 0.7k wc. warnings: established relationship. ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

you've always secretly thought of joshua hong as perfect. logically, you know that humans are messy and imperfect despite however they might appear on the surface, but looking at joshua, you just can't see it.

maybe it's the rose tinted glasses of budding love painting him in a different light, but to you, joshua could never be anything but perfect.

it's a thought that often crosses your mind when you think about your boyfriend, and it's one that presents itself now, as he emerges from the bedroom and stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, smiling sleepily at you.

his hair is fluffy and mussed up, his eyes and skin lit up golden by the sunlight, and when he mumbles out a quiet, "good morning, sweetheart," his voice is a little hoarse and sleepy, though it still has that honeyed quality to it that you've come to know and adore.

you're so lost in affection for him that it isn't until he sits down on the couch next to you that you realize you haven't replied. "good morning," you say quickly, still a little distracted by how pretty he looks. shua likes calling you 'pretty boy', but in your opinion, no one could ever, ever beat shua at being pretty. the word was made for him.

joshua smiles mischievously at you and pulls you onto his lap. his shirtless chest and arms are warm as they close around you. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and mumbles, "what were you thinking about that had you so lost in thought, hm?"

you glance up at him, taking in the warm tones of his skin, the rich brown hues of his eyes, the way the sunlight filtering in through the windows dances across the lines of his face. "you."

shua laughs, a little flustered, and takes your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours. "your flirting is too much for me, prince, i'm swooning."

the nickname is one shua often uses for you, but it still has you melting. you avert your eyes from his and glance instead at the soft material of his sweatpants. "you're one to talk."

joshua grins at that and relaxes into the couch, tightening his grip around you. when you try and get up he frowns and pulls you closer, whining, "no, stay. for a little longer, okay?"

"but shua, it's—"

"sunday morning!" then he adds, "time to relax and cuddle with me. if you try and move, i'll start singing—"

"please, no." you reply flatly. you love shua's voice, but you've gotten sick of hearing sunday morning. you've heard him sing it so many times you could sing it in your sleep. "shua, i have to get up."

"nooo," he whines playfully. "stay, and then i'll make us breakfast later."

you level him with a serious look. "pancakes?"

he nods back, equally serious. "pancakes. with syrup and fruit and everything."

"hmm." you tilt your head to the side playfully, as if considering the offer, even though you know that there's nothing you want more than to stay close to him for eternity. "...alright then."

shua smiles smugly and presses a kiss to your exposed neck. "you look good in my sweatshirt, by the way."

you hadn't even noticed you'd worn his sweatshirt. maybe it had something to do with the uncomfortable restlessness and thoughts running through your head that caused you to wake up early. you'd grabbed his clothes to wear almost unconsciously, seeking comfort in the familiar softness, and the safe scent of joshua's clothes— sunlight and his strawberry shampoo.

"sorry," you start to reply, only for him to cut you off. "it's fine, love. like i said, you look good in it."

"thanks." then you smile at him. "you look good without it."

he gasps dramatically, looking down first at his shirtless chest, then at your playful smile. "y/n, i said i couldn't handle your flirting, are you trying to kill me?"

"but you're a bigger flirt," you counter. he hums and rests his chin on your shoulder. "only with you."

your gaze flickers up to meet his, and he leans in, lips slightly parted, his eyes shimmering with desire.

you angle your head up and press your lips to his, and his hand goes to rest against your back.

it's fine, you suppose. the pancakes can wait.

notes: requested by @haocovr. this req was so cute omg, elio i hope i did ur request justice and that u liked this !!

#joshua x male reader #svt x male reader #seventeen x male reader #hong joshua x male reader #joshua x reader #svt imagines #svt drabbles #joshua imagines #joshua drabbles #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #kpop x male reader #male reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

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storiesforftm · 2 months

Note

Would you write an Astarion x Ftm!reader? I really wish there were more fics/imagines with inclusive readers because gods that man is queer

Absolutely!

I’ve had an idea of a post top-surgery trans man for a hot minute, so here is that story!

Astarion x FtM! Reader

“How Did You Get Those Battle Scars?”

As the night fell into silence, and every one of your companions were asleep, you noticed that tonight was going to be one of those sleepless night. In the thick, hot, summer air, you tossed and turned in your tent on your cot. You wondered if anyone was able to sleep in such heat.

Not being able to bear it any longer, you decided to venture out into the night towards the river. Perhaps a dip in the water would cool you down enough to sleep better. At the river’s edge, you laid your clothes. Shirt, pants, underwear, all neatly laid together on rocks.

You dipped your toes in and walked in until the water was up to your waist. You closed your eyes, allowing the moonlight to shine onto your skin. Onto your face. The sounds of nature allowed you to relax. You play in the water, gently running your hands through it. The water felt nice for such a warm night. To completely rid of any heat, you dunked your head underwater. Shortly after, you headed out.

You looked back towards where you laid your clothes. The only thing there now were your underwear and pants. Why was your shirt gone? You looked around, but couldn’t find it. You noticed that Astarion’s tent was now lit up with a source of light. Candles, perhaps. You walk up to the tent, and made your presence known quietly, as not to disturb the others.

Quickly, you were drug into Astarion’s tent by Astarion himself. He reacted quickly, as if he was expecting someone else to be there. You noticed quickly that he was holding a blade to your throat, and you widened your eyes as you saw his sharp teeth, which could’ve been considered blades by themselves.

Astarion quickly realizes it you, and chuckles to himself. “Oh, haha, it’s you.” He sits across from you, and after shaking off any remaining fear, you ask, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to my shirt, would you?”

“Hmm, no, darling, in fact, I was in my tent all night,” he slyly smiles at you. You know he’s lying, so you start looking around for it yourself. You are in no mood to be played with, but Astarion likes seeing you frustrated. He notices the scars on your chest, and thinking nothing of it, he asks, “How did you manage to get those scars?”

“Do you pry this much,” you ask, annoyingly. Astarion gives out a chuckle, “Not every night, but I feel like it now. So, how did you get them? Hm?” As he asked the question, he stood up and took out a piece of cloth out his back pocket. It was your shirt. You noticed out the corner of your eye, and you tried to lunge for it. Astarion dodges your attempt at retrieving your shirt, and says “ah, ah, ah! Tell me more about those scars, and I’ll give it back.”

“If you think im embarrassed of my scars, I’m not. I just want my shirt.”

“If you’re not embarrassed, then you won’t mind me asking how you got your scars, my boy,” he said cunningly, making you blush. Your flushed cheeks make him giggle, and he sits back and relaxes while you stand in a frustrated fluster. Astarion doesn’t look away from you, and stares you down, barely even taking time to blink.

Eventually, your frustration subsides, and you sit down in front of Astarion. “I guess you could say they’re battle scars,” you begin, allowing Astarion to ask any questions he wants.

“Battle scars? That’s all?” He huffs, “I thought it would be more interesting.”

“Yes, we’ll, not just any battle scars. I guess this kind of battle isn’t fought often.”

“Go on.” Astarion’s attention was caught. You stretch out your torso, so the scars are more visible. You explain your story.

“From a young age, I knew I was different. As I was growing up, I was raised as a girl. My parents treated me as such, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t. Then I became a teenager, and soon, my body didn’t match how I felt about myself. It took a long time to fight that battle within myself, and for me, I finally won when I could take control of how my body looked.”

Astarion listened intently, grasping every word you said. “I see. Mental battles are sometimes harder to defeat than physical ones. I commend you for that.”

“Thank you.”

Astarion looks down at the shirt he holds in his hands, and slowly lifts his hands to give it to you. You look back at it and let out a small chuckle.

“Keep it.” You say as you stand up. He looks at you, shocked. “You want me to keep your shirt?”

“Yes. I have more. You can keep that one.”

“But.. what if the others question you?”

��Pft,” i scoffed, “If the others question me, I’ll give them answers. Remember, I’m not ashamed of my scars. I’m not ashamed of the battles I’ve won. Scars are trophies I wear to show that I could overcome. I’m not scared.” You leave Astarion’s tent, and go back to your own. You lay down in your cot, ready for sleep to take you under its wing.

The next morning, you awaken to the sun rising. You step outside, and you see Astarion, wearing your shirt. You smile to yourself, and find a folded up note and a shirt at your feet. You read the note, and it says:

“Dear, my boy, y/n. Your outlook on battles has inspired me, both mentally and physically. Scars do not define who you are, but they can define what you’re capable of. The pain and suffering you must’ve endured had to be far harder to heal than the scars you’ve obtained. I commend you for that. Take this offering of gratitude. It’s one of my shirts. I hope to inspire you the way you’ve inspired me.

- Astarion”

You fold the letter and put it with your belongings. You put on the shirt, which is a bit big for you, but you don’t mind. You step back outside and see Astarion look at you. You both smile at each other, and you now know that you can inspire almost anyone, including someone 200 years older than you.

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sysig · 9 months

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Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

#Doodles #Law Abiding Citizen #LAC #LAC Russ #Doug Peterson #It's funny 'cause the post that houses the tags that inspired this train of thought was not that long ago right?#But in real time it's been about a week and a half since I wrote those - which means I had a bit to stew on them before jumping in hehe #Russ in solitary appealed to me too much to just leave alone #Much like Doug to Russ! Lol #There's also something about drawing him in an orange uniform that's Something hmm ♪#I always feel like I set them down for just long enough to forget how to draw them lol #Well the idea wouldn't leave me alone no matter what so here they are anyhow! Haha #Honestly even to the point where I've considered doing a big write about it hm hmm ♫#But for as long as I'm toning them I'll be happy to show off my process doodles lol #They're too sparsely posted! Fix it!#It does feel indulgently dark but that also aligns with them and their whole Deal - they're rather flexible on that front :)#They can be silly and they can be serious! I am kind of ignoring timing-and-placement vis a vis who says what went lol #It's part of the indulgence hehe #Anyway! Lol #I feel like Russ would be pretty quickly shunted out of sight of everyone if any of his abilities stayed intact #''He keeps setting shit on fire - nobody can figure out how! He doesn't have a lighter!''#Bad behaviour! You're not going to be released quickly if you keep that up!#Just stick him in a box and don't worry about it anymore #Why doesn't Doug help him break out? Where's the fun if he starts as a criminal? Where's the challenge of corruption?#No it's just an excuse lol ♪ They both kinda just overlook Russ' time in prison in canon it would defeat the purpose to here #What new adventures will they get up to :3c

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astrxealis · 2 years

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HMM final choices for my next theme ( i’ve been procrastinating sm oml ) are enstars [ jun ] / fe3h [ dimitri or felix or yuri ] / vtubers [ ... shxtou ] ( wait wait wait obey me is also a choice fhsdbfhj satan ?! )

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#idk to my mutuals/followers feel free to reply which you're biased towards WHEEZE but in the end it'll be my decision ofc but #HELP I WANTED TO ADD AN EMOJI TO THE END OF THAT SENTENCE BUT. macbook does not like </3 uh anyways #yeah ... i was thinkin jun for the longest time but 3h brainrots r coming back and i rmbred i want to do a theme for a vtuber sometime #bless cal for unintentionally reminding me that vtubers exist WHBAHFBDJBJH altho rip to my nijisanji favs bcs shoto is the big <3 #hm ... will think of this more #fe3h is less likely bcs i'll need to find official art i want to work with. i've alrdy checked and not much i wld like to use ???#enstars wld be easy and i think same for vtubers ... ig it depends on what i'm feeling w/ color scheme n wtvr >.>#esp considering i haven't done themes of both color schemes im thinking !! jun wld be like. blue yellow green. shoto wld be shades of purple #and violet and all those yeah + maybe some red too.............. HMM #WAIT PJSK IS ANOTHER OPTION. hm. another time in the future (heheheheheh)

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Danyal Al Ghul's missed potential - this kid is not gonna behave like his canon self if he's with the league of assassins until his late formative years, and my reasoning why

(feel free to take this all with a grain of salt this is just my thoughts on it, this is all mostly amusing to me and isn't trying to be negative towards anyone else)

similar to how i was talking about how danny growing up in crime alley would affect him, demon twin aus with danyal al ghul make me laugh a lot (affectionate) because... whose teaching danny to unlearn all the ecofascism he picked up from the league of assassins? whose teaching him to be kind? to be gentle? Not the LoA thats for certain.

(you could plausibly say Jazz but she's only 2 years older than Danny and do you really expect a fellow child to properly explain why X is wrong to another child and have it be 100% effective? i don't doubt it'd help to an extent, but not in the same way an adult explaining it would)

plus a ton of other things, like whose teaching him to value human life? not the LoA. Whose teaching him how to adjust to living with American society after he ends up with the Fentons when he's 8-9-10? Who teaches him that killing is wrong, whose enforcing that?

(not the Fentons if you're going the neglectful parent route, and Jazz can try but i really don't think Danny is going to listen to her, a stranger who isn't even part of his grandfather's league)

How do you teach a child to value human life when the greatest development window for that opportunity has closed and he's already formed his own opinions?

You're not gonna get a Danny whose exactly like his canon attitude if he's staying with the league during his formative years (0-8 years old). you're not. You could get someone LIKE it, potentially, or someone who has traces of it or is similar -- like danny's wit and jokes and sarcasm, and on some level his kindness. but you're not gonna have a carbon copy. Development doesn't work that way. "nature" can only do so much in the face of nurture.

If anything, it doesn't even have to be a major change -- in the league he cans till be kind, but it's probably going to manifest in a different way than what is considered normal. Tough love, for one. But there's gonna be something that affects him negatively. Why make him 'always good/kind' when you can make him a brat who develops into a kinder (if spikier than in canon) person?

TLDR: Danyal Al Ghul would not be like how he is in canon if he's with the league until his late formative years -- not without any lasting pr permanent impacts from the league at least. Missed potential to make him an absolute nightmare like damian was -- especially in his early years when he first arrived to the Fenton house.

(this doesn't apply to danyal al ghul aus where he's either given to the fentons as a baby/is reincarnated/etc. this is mostly aimed for danyal al ghul aus where he fakes his death at like, 7-10 and somehow ends up, personality-wise like his completely canon self by 14 without any differences.)

(and even then if he's five or four, or even three, he would still be traumatized and influenced by the league. he'll just have more time to adjust. the sooner he leaves the league the more likely he is to be like his canon self, but not like an exact copy)

(more under the cut)

Anyways what I'm saying is that there is prime missed Danyal al Ghul potential to make him an absolute NIGHTMARE to the Fentons however way he ends up with them, just like Damian was with the Waynes! Cuz why does Damian get all the fun? Danny got the same training and endoctrine as him! He is also an ex-assassin! Why is Danny the only one who is 'well adjusted and non-violent' hm? Hmm?

Why can't he also be mean, and stabby, and a total stuck-up in some way or another? Have fun with his characterization, its prime opportunity to play play-doh and clay with him! If he starts out as X how does he get the personality traits of Y, and thus become XY?

Like take this with a grain of salt if you will, but make him arrogant. Make him an asshole! Make him a bad person at first! Because he will be! He's the blood son of the batman and you mean to tell me that damian is the only one arrogant about it at first? Make him stabby and mean even at 14 when he's begun to chill out! Have fun with it! If he's with the Fentons at any point past the age of four or five then he's gonna be a nightmare to handle because he still remembers the league and his time there.

(and while it gives him more time to chill the hell out, his time at the league is still gonna leave an impact on him.)

also what im saying as well is have him and sam potentially get along like a house on FIRE. Again, Danny grew up under the views of an ecofascist cult and nobody to challenge those views to him until he got to amity park at whatever age in late formative years he was at. He could be about as intense or even MORE intense about environmental awareness/rights than Sam is!

(also him being supremely unimpressed with Sam's wealth. he gave up a palace in the mountains for this town. because that's funny to me - like let his past have more influence on him! it'll be fun!)

you could have a danny who doesn't kill but doesn't fully understand the value of human life because jazz is like two years older than him and isn't that good at explaining why people's lives are important. he won't kill but he's not morally opposed to it. there's very little chance he actually gets bullied at school because he nearly killed Dash the first time he tried anything.

Danny could have scars, physical ones, because its implied in multiple canon that training starts at toddling (my best bet is 3 at minimum and ~maybe~ 2 but only on the later side of 2. Good fucking luck getting any infant under 2 to do anything you ask, ESPECIALLY assassin training. They're gonna stick the weapon in their mouth sooner than they're gonna do katas. This is coming from a daycare teacher.)

there's more examples of how danny being at the league during his formative years would affect him, but those are just some of them. he could have a sword! An appreciation for weaponry and nature. Maybe he still speaks all shakespearan and formal, does he still make bodily threats to people? If Damian is still threatening people at 14 why can't danny?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #tldr danyal al ghul has a ton of missed potential of what his behavior would be like if he left the league mid-to-late formative years #this post is specifically directed towards those danyal al ghul posts where he ends up with the fentons when he's like. 8 #like great. who taught him to unlearn all of the LoA's programming #how is he exactly like he was in canon despite being with the LoA during his early childhood #source: i've taken multiple child development classes #this isnt to bash those aus at all its just me thinking its hilarious that danny would even remotely be like his canon personality #especially if he's in the league long enough for damian to remember him #like i love danyal al ghul aus i just think there's not enough being taken into account about how the league would permanently impact him #especially if he leaves later on in life #people are not ponds they are puddles of mud. if you drop a rock into it it's gonna change its shape #its also good creative exercises on how to flesh characters out better and better understand how things in a story may impact a character #good thought exercises with the additional bonus of making danny a violent gremlin like damian is #i dont wanna say this is bashing but i guess it is kinda a criticism on the writing in those aus because you’re telling me this had NO #affect on danny on his personality beyond just ‘oh league bad. league scary’?? cmonnn have some fun #like you mean to tell me that being a child assassin had no lasting impact on him or his personality?? like at all???#he doesnt have an ounce of self-importance/arrogance/anger like damian did?? like none of that *stuck?* he’s just the normal and sane #sibling right off the bat??? five years with the fentons turned him into a complete blankslate?? he has no lasting impact from the league??

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