#incorrect Pristin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

3lushkiii · 19 days

Text

Soaked nightmare - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Synopsis: Ex-boyfriend Sukuna is struggling with your absence, stumbles to your apartment a mess.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

CW: alcohol, self harm, violence, other self-destructive behavior

This is my first ever one-shot! Any constructive criticism is very much appreciated! (P.S: English isn’t my first language, sorry if i use any words with the incorrect meaning!)

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sukuna has always been a beast. He was rash, impulsive, downright stupid. He still is. He knew that, he was especially aware of it while dating you three years ago.

You were like a wisp of smoke in his hand, disappearing into the air as soon as he had his hands on you. He grabbed you once, clenched his fist tight, and prayed you’d stay.

Sukuna stopped drinking, stoped going to that shitty bar in the worst part of town just to come back home black or blue, or to not come home at all. You’d find him splattered outside your doorstep like a puddle after a few too many whiskeys, mumbling incoherently.

With you Sukuna was different, he’d try his hardest to be quiet, to be calm. He knew you deserved it, deserved a million times more than what that he could give. He enjoyed it while it lasted, how you willingly put your hands on him, how you made him a crazy good omelette sometimes, how you kissed his temple before bed. He wondered why you weren’t scared, why this scarred and tattooed man didn’t make you shake like a leaf in the wind. But he was glad he didn’t.

You knew he could do whatever if he wished, even hurt you, it always lingered in the back of your head, but it never surfaced. Not until that day, in a fit of anger, a petty argument about him disregarding his health, his job, his life—his large palm collided with your cheek. His head got too loud, the thoughts he felt you drowned out only got louder. He knew he fucked up, when he saw the words die on your tongue, when he saw you freeze over in shock. He knew then and there, that he’d forever lost you. He saw the thoughts you’d never considered as possible surface in your mind.

And as you left, he realized he never held that tantalizing wisp of smoke. He just kept his fist closed and assumed it was in his grip. That you were tied to him like he was tied to you—and in an instant, his North Star, his guiding light, left him.

Sukuna doesn’t know how he found himself at your apartment door, absolutely soaked in the rain, droplets trickling down familiar pink strands of hair. He looks down at you, that familiar face, and he almost feels like he can see the red mark on your cheek from years ago. The guilt gnaws at his insides, like a parasitic alien in his gut. And the only way this so called ‘parasite’ would stop tormenting him is with random flings, alcohol, tattoos, and the occasional pain—inflicted either by a random fight he’d start, or by his own means. Anything to dull the pain of the gaping hole your absence left in him.

His gaze was all you needed, you gave a simple nod and stepped aside to allow him into the familiar apartment you owned. Sukuna sat down on the leather couch in your apartment, silent as a mouse. The apartment is clean, cleaner than we he stayed here, filling the place with the scent of cigarettes, throwing around beer bottles galore. His gaze is downturned, and he brushes strands of his hair aside, ignoring the wet footsteps he left on your pristine hardwood floors—he muttered out a “Just for the night.” And you complied.

You grabbed a spare indigo blanket and a pillow, giving them to him quietly. Its still tense, staring at the man you used to hold dear like he’s a stranger. He offers a nod in acknowledgment, scarred hands grabbing the soft blanket and pillow as he lays down, in a familiar apartment, with a person he holds dear, but far out of his reach. That wisp of smoke. That wisp of smoke who let a wretch like Sukuna still stay at their clean apartment after he put his hands on them. He could never forgive himself.

He stares at the ceiling, his soaked clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He wants to let out a sob, he’s sorry, he’s so very sorry about what he’s done to you. If only he could crawl into your embrace just this once, sleep without those agonizing dreams replaying in his head of the night you left, of the silence in his apartment, of the passing days where he felt all traces of your presence fade. The cleanliness, the smell, the cooking, it was all gone.

He presses the base of his palm over his face, nearly pushing his eyes out on the other side of his head. He even sees those little rainbow flashes of light under his eyelids. He really cant tell when his eyes are open or closed from the dark, except for the sliver of light coming from the crack in your door. You always were like a guiding light, how touché.

He knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t have snuck into your bed. But he misses you, how he misses your tender kiss, how those compliments and promises at something more slipped from your lips like you were made to say them. He’s just so sorry, sorry for wetting your bed with his clothes, sorry for ever raising a hand to you, for driving you away from him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he relishes in your warmth. He never forgets what pushing you away did to him. It ruined him, permanently scarred him, literally.

“Sorry.” He mutters once more, noticing your eyes flutter open. He just wants you to let him have this, this one thing. He may just go mad if he’s denied this, if he cant be next to you anymore. God, maybe he already is crazy. He yearns for your simple warmth, this touch, more than the flings, than the passionate embraces with other women. The vile things he’s done in bed with others can never measure up to you. He may never admit how much he years for true intimacy instead of a fleeting touch from a random blond at the bar.

“Sukuna?” Your eyes flutter open, the uncomfortable feeling of water on your neck jolts you awake. Your voice is quiet, holding a twinge of confusion more than any fear. It’s beginning to be hard to fear a man who just seems so… small.

“M’cold, soaked to the fuckin’ bone,” Sukuna’s response is quick, but quiet, the same old rough voice. Its not how it was, yet why does he sound like it is? He’s burried in the crook of your neck, his weight pressed against your body as he lays there. His breath hits your skin, feeling more and more uneven with each breath. “Sorry, i forgot to give you a towel.” You apologize softly, your features contorting into a mix of regret and pity. He doesn’t seem alright, he looks like a wet cat. Sukuna feels pathetic, he knows he looks like a damn puppy on the side of the street. He’s never thrown his pride aside so easily, so quickly for a sliver of the paradise that is your embrace.“Yeah, I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, his tone more harsh than intended. When has he ever been okay in the few years since your split? He can’t remember the last time he was alright without you. It doesn’t really exist.

He’s a hollow husk parading around like a man, filling his life with booze, sex, violence and substances to see if it’ll drown out the voice in his head scorning him for his stupidity. At how he pushed the walking angel he’s laying on out of his life so carelessly, how he had the sheer audacity to think he could lay a hand on you.

He grumbles, the words unable to leave his lips as he nuzzles the column of your throat. His expression almost hard to decipher. Like those paintings where you cant tell if the subject is looking at you or away from you—you cant tell if he’s sad or just numb. “M sorry, fuck—” His voice cracked, breath hitching. He couldn’t cry, monsters like him didn’t have the right to tears. “Just needed ya’.”

“Let’s get you dry, sit down.” You mumble, your voice quiet from being recently woken from your sleep. Sukuna freezes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s surprised. Surprised at how easily you command him without even trying. He sits down, looking over at you without a word.

You come back to the room with a towel and some clothes, and he eyes the sweatpants and hoodie carefully. Something seems familiar, but he cant place his finger on it. “You couldn’t sleep?” You ask, standing in front of him, a towel on his head as you dry his hair yourself. Sukuna has never been the best at caring for himself, it always felt better when you did it. He cared for himself most when he was with you, because it made you smile at him, look up at him with that pretty expression. “Nah,” he says dryly, looking down, not a word of protest to his hair being dried like hes a child. Honestly he enjoys it, enjoys feeling your touch. No matter if this pesky towel is in the way.

He holds the fresh clothes in his hands, looking down as he comes to a realization. Thats his hoodie, these clothes are all his. The cigarette burns carefully etched into the black cotton, the fading grafic of a band he knows you don’t like on the front. He wondered where this hoodie went, he thought he’d just lost it. But you kept it, you kept his hoodie after all this. It just makes him feel like a monster.

He curses himself for hoping it brought you comfort, he curses himself for even daring to think you were comforted by a little remanent of him in your life. He should assume you kept his hoodie in a box under your bed, collecting dust. But when he’s hit with the sweet scent of you from the hoodie, his assumptions are proven right. You wore the damn thing, your familiar smell is woven into the fibers of the hoodie. He wished he could weave you into the fibers of himself, he could laugh at himself for envying a hoodie.

“How’ve you been, Sukuna?” You ask casually, trying to lighten the mood as you dry his hair. “Fine,” he spits out, the only words he can say right now are ‘fine’ or ‘sorry’. You look down at him, a frown on your face from the lack of detail. He stands up abruptly, peeling off his soaked shirt as he wears the hoodie. It smells like you. He finds himself bringing the collar of the hoodie up to his nose just to get a whiff of your comforting scent, like a man starved. He carefully slips the sweatpants on, the soaked clothes a little puddle of fabric on the floor as he sits back down.

You worry, worry about what hes doing, because he doesn’t appear to be fine. Far from it. “That’s not what i asked.” You say, your voice a bit firmer. You expect a response, a real response to your question instead of a nod or a hum. “S’been shit,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he speaks in that gruff tone of voice. He isn’t really living, just making it through the days. He’s waiting out his clock, counting the days since you left. What is there to even do when the one person who kept him anchored to this shithole of a world left? All because of him.

“Drink, smoke, fuck, work, repeat” He says, trying to be a bit more specific to make this simple conversation last a bit longer. Anything to hear your sweet voice, no matter what you say to him. Cuss him out, say he’s a prick, tell him he has no future, he wont care. The way you dry his hair, care for him so tenderly, he’ll never care. He just yearns to be yours again. “Thats all?” You ask softly, trying to keep your obvious judgement to yourself. Hes not your boyfriend anymore, you have no right to nag at him to be healthy or careful anymore. But oh, how he longs to hear you nag at him again. “Just that?” You question, raising a brow in curiosity. “Nothing else?”

Sukuna looks up at you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as his shoulders drop. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble without ya, y’know?” he mumbles, trying to resist the urge to pull you closer, to feel you one more time. He just doesn’t know what else to say, he cant admit all the stupid things hes done without you there. How he went totally batshit crazy once, how he nearly died choking on his own vomit when he drowned himself in alcohol. He cant tell you all the new scars he’s inflicted on himself, all the substances he takes, all the times he’s been taken to the police station for another petty bar fight.

“Any new tattoos?” You ask, looking down at him. Sukuna nods, scratching his scalp as he speaks. “Few,” he replies. “A couple random ones. This one—“ he pulls the fabric of his sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on his forearm. Kanji going vertically down the limb, with delicate vines and flower blooming in between the bold ink. “Is for you. Always regretted driving you away.” His admission is vulnerable, crimson eyes scanning your face to gauge your reaction. Its definitely for you, Sukuna doesn’t get these delicate and soft tattoos. You expected maybe a heart or something with your initial, but this is art. It’s something he got done while sober, thats obvious.

“For me?” Your brows raise in surprise, a bit confused. You grab his arm, looking at the tattoo more intently. “This was a bad decision, you know that, right?” You say in frustration, slightly frustrated to still be tied to a man you tried your hardest to forget.

“Course it was a bad decision.” He replies nonchalantly, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. “Ain’t that what I’m best at?” He’s been a wreck without you, even got a tattoo to keep any part of you with him. Trying to drown out his head in anything, leaning toward alchool and nicotine for the normal days, substances and violence for the days that were quite hard to deal with. He remembers the day he got the tattoo vividly, which is a surprise considering any days without you faded from his memory as soon as they came. His head felt full of you, and nothing else.

“For all its worth—“ You pause, looking down at him with a slight frown. You gaze at the tattoo once more, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and art is subjective. But his memento to you, “It’s beautiful.” You comment softly, deciding not to scorn his decision this time. And it truly is beautiful.

“Means alot,” his voice holds a twinge of joy, hands move up to grasp at the towel, inked fingers brushing against yours. “You… it’s late, you should sleep.” His tone lacks any true conviction, his gaze moving up to your face, trying to read your expression. And the pity and concern on your face makes him want to rip his hair out. “I can’t let you sleep with wet hair, you’ll get a headache.” You comment, carefully drying strands of poorly dyed pink hair. Sukuna wants to reach out and pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and hit himself as many times as you say just to get your forgiveness.

“I’ve been through plenty of headaches, baby.” He says, eyes falling shut as he forces himself to stay awake. The nickname leaves his lips so naturally, he forgets he has no right to call you that anymore. He cant do anything without knowing you forgive him or not. He wants you back, he needs you back or he might just lose it. He can feel himself unravel by the day, he’s almost lost his grip. Didn’t know how much he needed you till you were gone.

“Sukuna, you alright?” You break the long silence, features the picture of a worried lover. It makes his heart clench. Just look at you, how could you gaze at a man like him with such tenderness? How do you touch him without recoiling in disgust? God, how he misses you.

“Do i look alright to you?”

“Not really...”

“Exactly.”

You look down at him, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you remove the towel, looking down at him. His eyes seem glazed over, like hes not fully in the moment. Sukuna knows you see it, and hes trying not to focus on you too much or he might just burst into ugly tears. “Missing ya, every second of every day.” He mumbles, gently taking your hands as he allows the briefest brush of his lips across your knuckles.

“Do i scare you?” He blurts out.

“What?”

“I won’t blame you if i do, just tell me.”

You pause for a moment, looking down at him as he holds your hands close to his lips. “Not right now.”

“Other times?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He cocks a brow. “Like when i hit you?”

Your voice is awkward, your gaze averted from his tender affections. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He cranes his head up to gaze at you, breathing deeply to steady himself. He almost thought you’d be joking, but seeing your expression solidifies it for him. He’s been thrown off guard. He knew he frightened you that day, hearing you admit it is just more horrid. He just wishes he wasn’t so damn scary. “‘M sorry,” The words can’t form in his brain, let alone leave his lips.

Apologize to her, say something! Im sorry, im sorry for hitting you, im sorry, i love you!

“I still care about you, ya know?”

“I know, Sukuna.”

“You care too.”

“...”

“Been shit without you, baby. Im going crazy here.” He chucks dryly, not a hint of humor in his tone. It’s not funny, he’s serious, he’s off the rails without you. He needs you there, to keep him on a leash, to be there for him, to put your hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t blow up at some granny in the grocery store for being slow. To gently help him after a hangover, to clean his bloody knuckles after another fight.

“You’re not crazy. Just hurting.”

“In other words—im crazy.”

“Its been years, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why all of this? Why are you hurting? The tattoo, coming to my house, looking at me like… that!” You blow up, face the picture of hurt as you look down at him. Why does he torment you like this? You already struggled with the split, he cant come to your house and look at you so sweetly, speak so gently.

“Cause i need ya,” he mumbles, fingers intertwining with yours. “Cause i love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Its the truth, you know I’m bad at lying to ya’.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I want you to hear it.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader

270 notes · View notes

victorianbatman · 1 month

Text

JJK incorrect quotes

Gender Neutral Reader, except when stated otherwise.

Y/n: QUICK YOU’RE BLEEDIN’ OUT! WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?!

Yuji: Tall, big ass-

Y/n: NO, YOUR BLOOD TYPE!

Yuji, looks at wound: Oh.. Red?

Y/n, disappointed : Oh my God-

Y/n: Why are your shoes wet?

Yuji: There was a puddle.

Y/n: Why did you step in the puddle?

Yuji, pouting: It was a puddle..

Megumi, enters room*

Y/n: At the end of the day, we are all human beans.

Yuji: Together we will rice.

Nobara: lettuce pray

Gojo: Ramen

Megumi:… *Leaves room*

Y/n: I’m gonna need a human skull, but you can’t ask why.

Yuji: Only if you don’t ask why.

*pulls out four pristine human skulls out of his bag*

Yuji: Make your pick.

Y/n: …

Y/n: This one will do.

Y/n: Hi 911, I accidentally raised my voice at Yuta, I need to be arrested.

911 operator: sigh* Ms. Y/n we’ve talked about this.

Year 1 road trip

Gojo: Are we ready to *hits the woah* go?

Rest of year 1: …

Y/n: I don’t feel safe in this vehicle.

At Yuji’s funeral*

Y/n: Yeah. Can I have a moment alone with him?

*person leaves*

Y/n, leans onto coffin: Listen here you little shit, I know you’re not dead.

Yuji, opens eyes: wELL NO SHIT

Yuji, coming through bedroom window: MEGUMI, I’M HOMEE!

Yuji, hitting the floor: OH! I’VE GOT SOME LOUD FOOTSTEPS, HUH!

Yuji, knocks over vase on purpose: HA HA SILLY ME!

Yuji, yelling as loud as he can: I SURE HOPE I DON’T WALK IN ON SOMETHING THAT WILL MOST LIKELY SCAR ME FOR LIFE!

Yuji: …

Yuji, just in case: *Screams*

Megumi: for God’s SAKE- Y/N IS NOT HERE!

Waitress: And what would you like?

Sukuna, on Yuji’s cheek: I wish to devour the unborn.

Y/n: Eggs. He would like some eggs.

Megumi: I know you snuck out last night, Yuji.

Y/n, elbows Yuji: Play dumb.

Yuji: Uhh.. Who’s Yuji?

Y/n: Not that dumb, you idiot.

Yuji: You won’t hit me, I’ve got witnesses.

Nobara: Y/n. Turn around.

*Y/n turns around*

Yuji: Y-Y/n?

Y/n: How’s your morning going?

Yuji: Well Nobara asked me what my favourite colour was then told me I was wrong.

Yuji: So, pretty normal.

Y/n and Megumi on a date, in the middle of the forest*

Y/n: This is my special place. I come here whenever I’m sad.

Megumi: Oh.. well thank you for trusting me enough to show me-

Y/n: Pfft- nah. I’m joking, we’re lost.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #incorrect quotes

204 notes · View notes

taergalive · 20 days

Text

A collection of incorrect Radioapple quotes because I have a problem and I'm making it yours

Lucifer, talking to Alastor on the phone: Did you preheat the oven like I told you to? Alastor: You bet! Lucifer: At what temperature? Alastor: 535. Lucifer: That's the clock. Alastor: Lucifer: Alastor: 536. -- Lucifer: Alastor was banned from the buffet, so we had to go out of town to get some. Alastor: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Lucifer: Alastor, you ate the chef. -- Alastor: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died- Lucifer: Twelve, actually. Alastor: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that? Lucifer: Yours! Alastor: That's right, no one's. -- Lucifer: Okay, truth or dare? Alastor: Truth Lucifer: How many hours have you slept this week? Alastor: Alastor: ...Dare Lucifer: Go to bed. Alastor: I don’t like this game. -- Lucifer: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment! Alastor: Yeah! Locally sourced, all-natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly! -- Lucifer: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Alastor: Only if you also don't ask why Alastor: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick. Lucifer: Alastor: Lucifer: This one is fine -- Lucifer: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Alastor: Alastor: Lucifer, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Lucifer: *Sips coffee from bowl*

#Radioapple #lucifer x alastor #Hazbin hotel #incorrect qutoes #okay I'll stop now lol

135 notes · View notes

ellaa-writes · 1 month

Text

The Beast Within

author note: part 8, masterlist here. This is more of a filler chapter, ending coming soon. A lot kind of things happening for a filler lol. barely edited, also think im losing the plot of this series. Next 2 chapters are going to be longer just to tie everything together. Might redo/rewrite this at a later time.

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: Mentions of lots blood, violence and dead bodies. A/b/o dynamics. Vauge and probably incorrect medical terms. No smut and barely any fluff. Lots of Angst.

The door to the elevator opened, revealing a mess. König's head tilting to the side as the smell of crimson infiltrated his senses.

The Beast perked up, nipping at his skin. Stepping out the elevator he was greeted with an unholy site. Broken pieces of furniture and dry wall laid strewn about, bodies and parts mixed in with the chaos, the once pristine carpets now stained with blood. Stepping over the rubble he made his way into what use to be the front door of his home, busted off the hinges and thrown to the side.

He knew you weren't here, he could smell it in the air. The home was cold and empty, remnants of what use to be, shattered and scattered around. Broken glass crunched under his feet as he walked around taking it all in.

His head snapped down the darken hallway, the heavy oak door barely attached to the frame, cracked and broken, almost like someone clawed their way in. His desk was littered with files, papers and photos. The gun he kept in the top drawer missing, it looks like it was pried off the hinges.

Digging his cellphone out, there was only one person on his mind has he dialed them up. Sitting down in the worn leather chair, laying his laptop across the mess on the desk. He brought up the security footage, watching every second before the line finally picked up. A deep rumble answered from the other end.

"I'm going to need your help, level red." König didn't know where you were but he had an idea. The man on the other line told him not to trust the women. In all hell's fury he wish he would have listened. "On 'm way." it sounded like he just woken up. "It's time sensitive, high priority. I forwarded the details. I want a list of who all will be on your team. Will meet up at 21 hundred." König ended the call abruptly.

Simon sat up from his bed, just having laid down before his Boss called. It wasn't long before he was dressed and watching the security footage over. Roze... He never trusted her, could smell the rot in her lies but the big guy trusted her and he trusted him. Holding his phone to his ear the line eventually picked up.

"Gots' a job fa' you" all he could hear was heavy breathing. "да" and the line disconnected.

You awoke to bright lights and white walls. Your head was pounding and it felt like you were going to throw up. The surface you were laying on was hard and cold, the sanitary paper crinkled under you as you shifted, sticking to your dewy skin. You could barely raise your arms to block out the intruding fluorescent light. Heavy like a stack of bricks, you could feel the medical tape holding down the IV tubes, itchy against your skin.

You didn't know where you were or how you got here. It looked like a surgeons room, the floors were white tile and the cabinets off the side, also white. You could hear voices coming from behind the double doors.

Sitting up you realized you were nude, not even the necklace you always wore, completely naked and cold. Your body sore and stiff, trying to shift off of the exam table, your legs straining to hold you up right. The IV's tugged against you has you managed to stand on two legs, wobbly. You yanked the tubes free, blood dripping down your arms.

Grabbing at the now torn sanitary paper that covered the table, you haphazardly wrapped it around yourself. Using pieces of it to dab at the blood. A shiver racked your body, you didn't know what was happening. Trying to recall the last moments, your mind was foggy but you remember standing in that office but after that everything was fuzzy. You couldn't help but think he had something to do with this. Whatever this was?

The voices abruptly stopped, the double doors to your room swinging open revealing a familiar face. But not a face you expected to see, not here.

Dr. Roze

That's when it all came rushing back to you. The walk you both had, her words about you being pregnant. The images you found in the filing cabinets, all the blood or death spread across those pages. The sound of the front door being broken of its hinges, the shouting and yelling. Glass shattering and gun fire being exchanged. You hid under the desk, König gun in your hand, the one you took from the drawer. Then you heard her voice, telling you it was safe and she was here to rescue you. And that's where it all went black.

You stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted. Clutching the thin paper to your exposed body. "Oh, you’re up?" Dr Roze said in surprise. Taking small steps towards your shaking frame. "Everything is ok, your safe here." she tried to explain and to calm you down. Eyeing your bleeding wounds and discarded IV. "Nothing to worry about dear. Why don't you sir down and we can talk." pointing at the steel chair to your left. You eyed in before slowly sitting down.

"You must have a lot of questions and I'll do my best to answer them all." she explained. She sat in a similar chair but on the opposite side of the room, giving you enough space.

"We've been working on a cure, well not really a cure but a solution to a very serious problem." Dr. Roze paused before taking a deep breath. "When I met you, I knew you could be the key. The key to helping us unlock a gene code we have been stuck on for year’s now." she waved her hands around.

"Why me?" your voice was so quiet and coarse, startling you as you spoke.

"Well when König, your former Alpha mentioned that he had himself an Omega but he was unsure...-" she cut herself off before continuing. "He was unsure about your origins, you smelt like an Omega but didn't act like one. He requested that I observe you, to figure out him your Omega origin was natural or manmade." Dr. Roze had her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes boring into yours, she had a tight smile on her face, forced and unnatural.

You shook your head, confused. Former? Origins? None of it was making sense.

"I know this is a lot of information that may seem helpless to you. But I want you to know that without your DNA the surviving Omega population would have come to an complete extinction. You are a true hero, really." the doctor tried to comfort you.

"Where's König?" you shifted uncomfortable in the cold steel chair. Dr. Roze's smile faltered a little but she held it tight.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore." your mind was racing with questions. "Why?" did he just hand you over? Was that all part of the plan. Was that why he was ignoring you? Does this have anything to do with the photographs you found?

"I know it's going to be a hard transition but we have plenty of surrogate Alphas here. You can even choose one if you would like." Choose a new Alpha? What the hell is going on.

"I-I don't want a new Alpha." you whispered.

"Well, we can discuss that later. Nothing has to be done now. How are you feeling?" she brushed off your question.

"I don't know." and it was true. You didn't know how to feel about anything.

"That's fine, I know you’re confused and scared. Why don't I show you to your room and you can have a shower and some fresh clothes? How does that sound?" Dr. Roze stood from the chair, her hand stretched out in front of her. Beckoning you to her, and you went, slowly.

Dr. Roze took your hand and led you out of the room, the hallways were much the same. White and sanitary. She took turn after turn before stopping in front of a locked door. Raising her key card to unlock the door and dragging you through.

She brought you to a room, your new home, she called it. Watching as you walked around the confined space. It had a bed in the corner, a bookshelf, a small table with one chair, a sink and counter, a small open closet and another door leading to your private bathroom.

You sat on the bed, still only in the thin paper sheet. "If you need anything you can push this button right here" she motioned to a red button by the door. "I'll have some proper clothes dropped off for you. Why don't you get cleaned and rest." and with that she left. The door sliding into place with a click.

You felt trapped and doomed. The events replaying over in your head. You didn't believe a word she said, still not trusting her.

Trying to believed that your Alpha wouldn't abandon you. He couldn't, he can't.

The words bouncing around you head. You've heard stories about Omegas being experimented on. Locked up like cattle, their only purpose to behave and breed.

You missed your home, the one you created with König. The smell of the sheets, König's heavy scent filling your nose. The warm feeling in your tummy every time you looked at him.

It's been at least 3 weeks since you saw him last, maybe even longer at this point. You have no idea what day of the week is or how long you've been out.

You took the doctors suggestion and say yourself under the hot water, steaming bellowing around you. Your silent tears mixing in with the water as they danced down your face.

The meeting was brisk, the task easy. He was treating it as a hostage situation. Retrieve the prize and leave unharmed. But the only difference is that it was you. König knee bounced restlessly, up and down. He never had the discipline to stay still, ever since he was a child. The ticking of someone's watch matching his heart beat. He tried to rid his mind of the horrible things, the images of you diced up like meat. Nothing left of you, the only thing he could identify being your sweet smell.

The ride to the warehouse was brief, but it stretched on for what felt like hours. A perfect line of black alarmed vehicles, surrounding the building that housed this "cure". König barked out orders before charging forward, using his whole body weight to slam into the metal door. The weak screws and hinged snapping under his weight. The Beast clawing at his throat to be released, König's eyes turned black and his blood began to boil.

It didn't take them long to find your scent, a trail of destruction behind him like petals behind a bride. He tuned out the call outs coming from his headset, the only thing one his mind was finding his precious Omega.

The Ghost and the Russian stood off to his side, eyeing the giant, their own Alphas trying to hide itself in the darkest corners of the mind. Anywhere to get away from the intense energy of The Beast.

The lights were flashing red, a lockdown initiated. Most doors sealed themselves closed but nothing could stop The Beast. Ripping the reinforced door right off its hinges without breaking a sweat. Your smell stronger now, he was close he could almost taste you.

After a few minutes under the hot pelt of the showers water, your tears long dried up but your eyes still red and sore. You pulled yourself out of the glass enclosure, finding a pair of grey scrubs one size too big resting on your bed. The bed itself was made of steel, loosely wrapped in a sheet that felt like sandpaper against your skin. The thin black like cardboard as you tried wrapping it around yourself.

You don't know how you managed to fall asleep, or how long you were asleep. But the sound of an alarm awoke you. The lights were out, the only thing illuminating your cell was the red light from the button beside the door. Unsure of what was going on and unable to sleep any longer, you pressed your ear against the cold metal of the door. Trying to listen for anything, but all you could hear is the whines and whimpers of the other Omegas locked up here with you.

It wasn't long after when you started to hear the shouting and gunfire. Whatever was happening beyond your door sounded serious and it put you on edge. Not knowing what to expect you tried moving the furniture towards the door but found everything was bolted down. So you grabbing the sheet and blanket off of the steel bed and found yourself cowering in the bathroom. Waiting out the war zone happening outside.

You would think this was your end, but the smell of burning oak engulfed you. Your Omega whining, begging you to go after it, so you did. You didn't know how you ended up outside of the safety of your room. Stumbling over bodies, slipping on their blood. The only thing on your mind was finding the source to whoever that insatiable smell belonged to.

Corner after corner you passed through what use to be a door, it's counter parts laid flattened on the ground. The smell was so close, your nose sniffing the air trying to get just a little taste.

"Стоп! (Stop!)" the voice came from behind you, making you freeze in your tracks. Turning slowly to face a man, an Alpha, in all black wearing what looks like a dog mask. His gun pointed at you, he spoke something to quiet into the mic strapped to his shoulder. His black sunken eyes watching you. His smell was strangely fresh, like ripe lemon begging to be plucked. His stance was wide like the rest of him. It didn't take long for whoever he called for to enter behind him.

It was the skull face man, Simon, you think is his name. Soon as he saw your terrified face he forcefully lowered the other man's gun until he holstered it completely. Both men stepped to the side at the sound of thundering footsteps. The Beast was in charge has he nearly crashed through what was left of the passage. The surrounding walls cracking and buckling under his force. His eyes were red, like blood sap. His aura a bright orange like he tree set ablaze. The smell of burning amber knocking you off balance, causing you to fall on your ass. He was on you, quick and hard. Shoving his nose into your neck, his hot tongue lapping at the skin.

You were trembling, gripping onto his biceps has he manhandled you. This was your König but at the same time it was not. You've never seen him like this, geared up and strapped with weapons.

He was leaving blood smears all over you, his chest heaving like a bull after a fight. His nostrils flaring.

"We ought get goin'" the skull face said from somewhere behind your Alpha. König's grip on you tightened has he curled himself around you, lifting you up and wrapping your legging around his middle as he pushed forward with the two men close behind.

"Have you located her?" he all up growled out, his voice animalistic. It made the hairs on your body stand at full attention. A low ripple of fear washed over you, you don't know what was going on, what was wrong with him.

"да, she been located." the dog faced man moved ahead, gun raised. "Good" you hated it, hated the sound of his voice, the way it vibrated his whole body and ripped from his throat.

"Ooooomegaaa" it didn't come from his mouth, no it came from within your mind. You looked up into his blown out red eyes, he was looking right into your soul. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying yourself into his chest. Closing your eyes tight, allowing this man carry you to safety.

Tag list: @plumdreadful @traumaramacenter @kaylp-godly @napalmfairy7 @hisa-plush @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @winters-doll @joyfulfxckery @purebeskar @collete25 @fandomsinthegalaxies @xo-konigs-little-princess-xo @jamieelol @luc1ddreamersatnight @cringeycookies

(sorry if I forgot to tag you, i haven't looked at my tag list in a while and probably needs to be updated)

#cod mw2 #könig #konig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #cod könig #könig call of duty #könig x you #Alpha König

135 notes · View notes

hakirachan · 7 months

Text

Obey Me! Incorrect Quotes #29

Solomon: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why.

MC: Only if you also don't ask why.

MC: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of their bag*

Solomon: ...

Solomon, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #shall we date obey me #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #swd obey me #obey me incorrect #obey me mc #mc obey me #omswd #obey me solomon #omswd solomon #om solomon #solomon obey me #solomon om #solomon omswd

357 notes · View notes

blackbirdi · 2 months

Text

Batfam Incorrect Quotes #4

Steph: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why.

Tim: Only if you don't ask why.

Tim: *Pulls out four pristine human skulls out of his bag* Choose one.

Steph:

Tim:

Steph: This one will do.

#batfam incorrect quotes #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfamily #batfam #incorrect quotes #tim drake #stephanie brown #red robin #spoiler dc #stephanie brown incorrect quotes #tim drake incorrect quotes

135 notes · View notes

professoruber · 4 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes: Bruce giving money to the Bat-Family | Part 1

Next Part: Link

Bruce: Another broken chandelier, Dick? Really?

Dick: Well... to be fair, this time I was at least asked first before I showed off my circus skills to the gala-goers. Not my fault it was screwed to the roof so poorly.

Bruce: I doubt the designers were expecting to have to support the weight of a grown-man on top of an already heavy chandelier.

Dick: Anyway, do you mind...?

Bruce: Ugh. Fine. But you owe me for this. You'll be on gala shift again, and no more acrobatics. Understood?

Dick: Loud and clear. <Summersaults out the window onto a trampoline, before bouncing backwards into his car>

Bruce: ...

———————

Bruce: Oracle.

Barbara: Yes, Batman?

Bruce: Is it really necessary for you to replace the entire Clocktower with missile-proof interior plating? Do you know how much time, money and resources it'll require to do such a major renovation to a highly visible landmark without anyone noticing?

Barbara: Bruce. Do you have any idea how many times the Clocktower has been blown up? Even once is too many.

Bruce: …

Barbara: Also I've seen the stuff you're donated to the Justice League, don't pretend this is outside your budget or capabilities.

Bruce: Points taken. Fine.

———————

Bruce: JASON! JUST TAKE MY MONEY!

Jason: %@#! you Bruce! I Don't need your @&#$?&! handouts!

Bruce: Strange thing to say considering you break into my mansion and safehouses on at least once a week to steal gear, supplies and even food.

Jason: ...

Jason: JUST KILL THE JOKER ALREADY AND I'LL TAKE ALL THE MONEY YOU WANT!

Bruce: WELL THEN MAYBE I WILl!

Jason: Wait really?

Bruce: ...

Jason: ...?

Bruce: Well. No. But still... JUST TAKE MY MONEY! AT LEAST LET ME THROW YOU A BIRTHDAY PARTY!

Jason: As if I'd eve-

Bruce: Alfred is making chilli dogs and Neapolitan ice-cream.

Jason: ...I might show up, but only if the Outlaws don't need m-

Bruce: I also found a pristine original copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen at a charity auction.

Jason: ...

Bruce: The Outlaws are invited as well, of course.

Jason: I'll let them know.

79 notes · View notes

kazucinth · 2 months

Text

incorrect quotes with pirate!Y/n

Varian: So

Varian: I’m inlove

Varian: with Y/n

Eugene:

Eugene: our Y/n?

Varian: Yes?

Varian:…Thoughts?

Eugene: and prayers.

Cassandra: You keep hugging Y/n when she’s upset

Cassandra: Next thing you know, she’s going to fall inlove with you. Is that what you want?

Varian: *scoffing* is that what I want?

Rapunzel: *loudly from the other room* yes

Y/n: You can’t make everyone like you, your not Varian

Eugene: but not everyone likes him??

Y/n: who doesn’t

Eugene:

Y/n: names, Eugene. I need names

Y/n: whaddya call a fish with no eye?

Varian, not looking up: Myxine Circifons

Y/n:

Y/n: fsh

Varian: you saved me, I owe you my life

Y/n: no thanks, i’ve seen it, not really impressed

Varian: I’m gonna need a human skull, and I can’t have you ask any questions why

Y/n: only if you also don’t ask why

Y/n: *takes out 7 human pristine skulls* take your pick

Varian:

Varian: this one is fine

Y/n: am I in trouble?

Varian: take a guess

Y/n: no?

Varian: take another guess

Varian: do you take constructive criticism?

Y/n: I only take cash or credit

Y/n: *kicks the door down looking panicked*

Varian: what happened?

Y/n: NOBODY DIED!?

Varian: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT??

Varian: you know im starting to regret showing you how a blender works

Y/n, drinking toast: why’d ya say that?

Y/n: the fuck your doing?

Varian: hugging you

Y/n: ew

Also Y/n: do it again

Red: Varian, what’s a thot?

Varian: a thoughful person

…

Rapunzel: here have some water, Red

Red: thanks! Your such a thot!

Y/n: *chokes on her drink*

note: sorry if its ooc😭 still trying to find a way to watch the series💞 but I won’t be giving up anytime soon!!

mermaid!Y/n headcannons coming up next!

#tts varian #varian x reader #varian #rapunzels tangled adventure #eugene fitzherbert #tangled #cassandra tangled #incorrect quotes

108 notes · View notes

cuddles-with-dragons · 29 days

Text

Avengers incorrect quotes?!

Steve: You disgust me.

Clint: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

Thor: I will send my army to attack! Thor: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

Thor: You know, there's something weird going on with your face? Natasha: What? Thor: You’re smiling! I didn't know you could do that?

Natasha: I’m never donating blood ever again. Natasha: The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! Natasha: ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

Steve: What can therapy do for me that screaming in my car for 30 minutes can’t?

Bruce: There's nothing worse than people using big words they don't understand. Steve: I photosynthesize with this.

Clint: We have a problem. Steve: Let me guess, you caused it? Tony: Gimme a sec, I'm not drunk enough to listen to this yet. Bruce: And it's another Tuesday, your point? Natasha: Would shooting you solve this problem? No? Then shut up. Thor: If you mean the fire, that's our solution to last week's problem.

Thor: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Bruce: The afterlife, I guess.

Bruce: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Clint: Only if you also don't ask why. Clint: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of his bag* Bruce: ... Bruce, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

Bruce: Throw lamps at people who need to lighten up, and throw handles at someone who needs to get a grip! Clint: Throw a refrigerator at someone who needs to chill! Tony: Throw scissors at someone who needs to cut it out! Steve: Throw a clock at someone who needs to get with the times! Natasha: Throw matches at someone who needs to get fired up! Thor: Throw a brick at someone to kill them.

Bruce: If you got arrested what would be the charges? Tony: Theft. Thor: Disturbing the peace. Steve: Aggravated assault. Natasha: Arson. Clint: All of the above. In that order, probably.

Tony: Are you trying to give me a fucking aneurysm? Natasha: Pretty sure we all are. Bruce: I wasn't. Thor: I was. Steve: I was trying to stop them, for your consideration. Clint: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

Bruce: Go and tell Tony why you insisted on putting a normal-sized carrot in a bag of baby carrots. Clint: Bruce: Do it, tell him what you told me earlier. Clint, stuttering: I-it's because... th-they need adult supervision... Tony:

Tony: Your smile? It makes my day. Pepper: Your happiness? I live for that. Natasha: A room? Get one. Thor: Hotel? Trivago.

*The Squad is on a hike* Natasha: It’s beautiful out here. Steve: And quiet. Tony: Too quiet. Clint: Did we lose someone? *cut to Thor with a bear in a headlock*

*Something crashes* Tony: Shoot- Steve: *running into the room in a panic* WHAT FELL?! Thor: *walking by the room calmly* What died?

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends. Tony: Which one? I have seven. Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up. Tony: Which one? I have seven. Clint, distantly: HEY!!!

Thor: I wasn't injured that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Bruce: I hate taking off my glasses, because without them, my vision goes from Full HD all the way down to buffering at 240p and I just can't handle that.

Thor: I WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD FOR YOU GUYS! Bruce: Okay, can you do the dishes? Thor: No!

*at a zoo* Thor: What are they in for? Steve: Thor, this isn't prison. Thor: So they can leave? Steve: No, but- Thor, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Bruce: I just want someone to take me out. Natasha: On a date? Clint: With a sniper gun? Thor: Both if you're not a coward.

Thor, Clint & Bruce: *screaming* Natasha: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Bruce?! Thor: Wait, why are you asking Bruce that when Clint and I are also here? Natasha: Because Bruce wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* Thor: Thanks fam! Clint: Oh no. Bruce: *cries* I love you too. Natasha: Sounds fake, but okay. Steve: *A flustered mess* Tony: Can I get a refund?

Thor: *trying to buy a Father's Day card for Odin at Hallmark* Thor: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?" Associate: Well, I- Thor: How about "You impregnated my mother?" Associate: No... Thor: You know what, I'll just get a blank one. Thor: *writes* You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

Steve: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I've been reported missing for over sixty years and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

Clint, bleeding out on the ground: Blood loss? No, I know exactly where it is.

Thor: What did you order this morning? Bruce: What do you mean? Thor: I heard you answer the door, and I sensed food.

Clint: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) Natasha: What's that? Clint: Remorse code. Natasha: I'm even angrier now.

Bruce: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy. But if I invite you to my cabin in the woods you’re going to die. Tony: My favorite is explaining the difference between a butt dial and a booty call. Clint: It’s called connotations. Steve: Try this one on for size, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned” vs “Sorry, Daddy, I've been naughty." Natasha: Great news! Language is now banned!

Loki: Twilight Sparkle was the main character because she represented the element of friendship— Clint, tied up: PLEASE, I JUST WANT TO SEE MY FAMILY AGAIN! Loki: I'M NOT DONE! Loki: And Rainbow Dash was the sporty girl—

Natasha: I’d kill someone if you asked me to. Steve: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn't ask you to.

Tony: Hoodie pockets are so great. I can fit like three sandwiches and a grenade in there and my hands are still warm.

Clint: We need a distraction. Steve: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Thor, whispering: My time has come.

Steve: Do you have a bobby pin? Natasha: Yeah. *searches in her hair* Natasha: Oh, no, wait. I’m not a nine-year-old girl.

Bruce: New challenge! Don't say stupid shit for 24 hours!

Bruce: So oxygen went on a date with potassium, it went... OK. Tony: I thought oxygen was dating magnesium, OMG. Bruce: Actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like NO. Clint: I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins. Natasha: Looks like someone's a HO. Tony: NaBrO. Steve: I'm done with all of you!

#the avengers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #thor odinson #steve rogers #loki laufeyson #pepper potts #avengers shenanigans #marvel incorrect quotes #fucking idiots

31 notes · View notes

salty-ironstrange-shipper · 2 years

Text

My favorite headcanon about my own fanfiction that I wrote, From The Top, is that Morgan is the genetic daughter of Tony and Christine who Pepper carried, while Vincent is the genetic son of Stephen and Pepper who Christine carried. And if you're thinking "salty, how did that happen if Stephen was dead for five years?" And to that I say, that it's their PERSONAL FAMILY BUSINESS, STOP PRYING

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #pristine #christine palmer #pepper potts #pepper potts/christine palmer #ftt #from the top #incorrect-ironstrange #domestic ironstrange

22 notes · View notes

asleepinglaurel · 1 year

Text

Dump of incorrect quotes

Murderer: Any last words? Sanemi: Do you think I'm cute? Be honest.

Sanemi: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Giyuu: Have I ever told you that you cook well? Sanemi: Awww, no, you haven't! Giyuu: So why do you keep cooking?

Sanemi: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am. Giyuu: I know I should be focused on the fact that you just came out, but HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

Sanemi: How do tall people people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you? Giyuu: Sanemi, it's four o'clock in the morning. Sanemi: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

Sanemi: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Giyuu: Only if you also don't ask why. Giyuu: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of their bag* Sanemi: ... Sanemi, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

#incorrect kny quotes #lololol #sanegiyuu #tomioka giyuu #sanemi x giyuu #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer #kny

367 notes · View notes

jinxed-sinner · 7 days

Text

randomly generated hazbin hotel using this incorrect quote prompt generator

Angel: What if the g in "gif" is silent? Husk: Angel go the fuck to sleep Angel: What gif I don't want to? Husk: fuck you --- Lucifer: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Alastor: I'm assuming they're all distortions of the lessons you should've actually taken away. Lucifer: Death isn't real, and I'm basically God. --- Charlie: I'm gonna need a demon skull and you can't ask me why. Vaggie: Only if you also don't ask. Vaggie: *pulls out 7 pristine demon skulls* Charlie: Vaggie: Charlie: This one's fine. --- Alastor: I'd like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals. --- Val: What if I press the break and the gas at the same time? Vox: The car takes a screenshot. Velvette: For the last time, get the fuck out. --- Vox: Val... Val: Oh no, "Val" in B-flat. Val: You're disappointed. --- *Sir Pentious and Cherri are doing something dangerous* Pentious: I think Houdini did something like this once! Why, if I recall correctly, he was out of the hospital in no time! Cherri, deadpan: Well, that's encouraging. --- Lute: Don't worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Adam: I think you mean cards. Lute, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No I do not.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #incorrect hazbin hotel quotes #feel free to tag as ship

32 notes · View notes

i-am-so-normal-about-radiostatic · 6 days

Text

Some Radiostatic incorrect quotes

Vox: I was arrested for being too cool. Alastor: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

Alastor: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Vox: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!? Alastor: No! Four to five seconds! Vox: Too late!!!

Vox: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Alastor: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Vox: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Alastor: You mean literally or figuratively? Vox: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Vox: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Alastor: Only if you also don't ask why Alastor: Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls Take your pick. Vox: Alastor: Vox: This one is fine

Vox: What is your biggest weakness? Alastor: I can be uncooperative. Vox: Okay, can you give me an example? Alastor: No.

Vox: So what do you do? Alastor: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Vox: Wow, impressive. Alastor: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Alastor: Vox... Vox: Oh no, 'Vox' in b-flat. Vox: You're disappointed.

Alastor: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Vox: Vox: Alastor, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Alastor: Sips coffee from bowl

Vox: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something. Alastor: Vox, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

Vox: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor. Alastor: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Vox: A theif. Alastor: Thief? Vox: Theif. Alastor: I before E, except after C. Vox: Thceif. Alastor: No.

Vox: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Alastor: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Vox: Absolutely not.

(This is their relationship fr ^^^)

Alastor, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Vox: walks in covered with ink, shark fin and tail out Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

Vox, tending to Alastor's wounds: How would you rate your pain? Alastor: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

Vox: How many kids do you have? Alastor: Biologically, emotionally, or legally?

(He's the dad friend. He's adopted Charlie, Vaggie and Niffty so far)

Vox: Must be hard not being able to laugh Alastor: I do have a sense of humor you know Vox: I’ve never heard you laugh before Alastor: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Alastor: So what’s for dinner? Vox, staring at the food he just burnt: Regret.

Vox: Alastor was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Alastor: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Vox: Alastor, you ate the employee.

Vox: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Alastor: Three words. Vox:

Vox: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Alastor: sighs Alastor: I killed a man.

Alastor: I’m never donating blood ever again. Alastor: The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! Alastor: ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

Vox: Goodnight to the love of my life, Alastor, and fuck the rest of y'all.

Alastor: Our relationship is strictly professional. Vox, sitting on Alastor’s lap: Absolutely. Only on business.

Vox: I'm not a morning person. I'm barely even a person.

Vox: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything? Alastor: I had a lizard that I burnt.

Vox, dramatically: They called me a fool. Alastor, sick of Vox's shit: They weren’t wrong.

Alastor: Two brooooos! Vox: Chillin' in a hot tub! Alastor: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! Vox: Alastor: Vox: tearing up Alastor: Babe, c'mon… Vox: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING. Alastor: Babe…

Alastor: You look mentally ill. Vox: I am. Let’s go.

Alastor: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash. Vox: Oh. We're going out? Alastor: Wh…

Vox: Cause you're pretty and you're smart, and you're ignoring me so you're obviously my type. Alastor, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Vox: Perfect.

Alastor: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Vox: It was autocorrect. Alastor: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Vox: Yes.

Vox: I want to kiss you. Alastor, not paying attention: What? Vox: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Vox: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing. Alastor: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Vox: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine. Alastor: Marry me.

Vox: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Alastor: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Vox: I said within reason, Alastor. How about I murder that guy? Alastor: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Vox: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Alastor: Are you trying to seduce me? Vox: Why, are you seducible?

Vox: Alastor is playing hard to get. Vox: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Alastor: Vox and I are no longer dating. Vox: Alastor, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Alastor: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Vox: blushes What are your thoughts? Alastor: The fourth sentence- Vox: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Alastor: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Vox: Two bros! Vox: Chillin' in a hot tub! Vox: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

Vox: We have a problem. Alastor: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Vox: You have to apologize to them Alastor. Alastor: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Vox: Do you want to know your gay name? Alastor: My… my gay name? Vox: Yeah, it's your first name- Alastor: Haha. Very funny Vox- Vox: gets down on one knee And my last name. Alastor: Oh- oh my god.

Vox: Stop doing that. Alastor: Stop doing what? Vox: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Vox: My hands are cold. Alastor: Here, let me hold them. Vox: My lips are cold too. Alastor: covers Vox's mouth with their hand

Vox: I think I'm falling for you. Alastor: Then get up.

Vox: I’m in love with you. Alastor: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Vox: I know. Alastor: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Vox: You got a date yet Alastor? Alastor: No… Vox: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Vox and Alastor are in Paris. Vox: I'm…moved. I…I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel…destiny? Alastor: But… Vox: I don't know what it is. I feel like… I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and… Alastor: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception? Vox: Yeah. Alastor: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe. Vox: Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION. Alastor: Okay, alright.

Vox: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart. Alastor: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

Vox, talking about Alastor: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

Alastor: Is something burning? Vox, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Alastor: Vox, the toaster is literally on fire.

Alastor: Okay, but if you're not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend? Vox: Dude- Its satire! Alastor: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Vox: Alastor is playing hard to get. Vox: Little does he know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Vox: We’re getting married, bitches! Alastor: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

#incorrect quotes #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #radiostatic #hazbin hotel

41 notes · View notes

palmofafreezinghand · 5 months

Text

kitchen observations

Bella and Esme chat as Esme cooks dinner for her granddaughter, and Bella finds out Edward may have left out some relevant details about Carlisle and Esme's life stories. on ao3 here.

January, 2006.

Kitchens had always been Bella’s sanctuary. Even long after she no longer had a use for any of the devices in the room she found herself gravitating to the Cullen’s kitchen, spending most of her free time reading at the bar or inviting her husband to a game of chess in the breakfast nook.

It had taken time for that particular kitchen, and the house as a whole, to become the uniquely comforting space it now was. When Bella first met Edward’s family their kitchen was sterile and slightly incorrect, like an unused television set. As she spent more and more time in the Cullen house, the kitchen gradually came alive, more accurately Edward’s ‘mother,’ Esme, breathed life into the room.

Esme had approached cooking for Bella cautiously as if she were a frightened baby deer separated from its mother. The first time she offered Bella a baked good she used the flimsy excuse she had made too much for the PTA bake sale, Bella would only realize days later there was not a PTA bake sale. Then one evening when Bella stayed later than usual, Charlie was scheduled for the night shift and therefore her curfew was ignored for the night, Esme offered to make dinner, coincidentally having all the ingredients on hand. Again, Bella would only realize Alice foresaw this happening and that is why Esme had a stocked refrigerator days later. This trend continued, and one thing turned to another and soon Esme, with Edward’s ‘help,’ was spending hours cooking an entire Thanksgiving feast because Renee had, of course, bailed last minute. By the time Bella was one of the Cullen family in name and supernatural status, the refrigerator and pantry were always fully stocked, holding ingredients for the next half dozen meals.

At first, Bella would hover in the kitchen out of guilt, offering assistance that Esme would very rarely accept, instead only utilizing Bella as a taste tester. Esme, however, never refused the offer of company while she cooked. It soon turned out that the hours spent in the pristine kitchen were some of the few times the two women bonded. Esme was more withdrawn than many of her family members, at least while Bella was still a human, which meant the few times Bella could convince her to speak freely was when she was distracted by following the precise steps of a new recipe.

When the food was done, and Bella began to eat, Esme would half-heartedly begin to wash the dishes, using the location of the sink to watch Bella’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. After a few months, Edward off-handedly told Bella that Esme had to use all of her strength to restrain herself from asking Bella a thousand questions about the meal and her thoughts, instead controlling herself and only nonchalantly asking “Is it alright?” after a few minutes. Bella would always laugh when Esme asked this question, the food had never been just alright. Bella was unsure if it was due to her own basic cooking skills, the woman’s supernatural abilities, or the care Esme poured into every dish but she had yet to have a meal of Esme’s that was not wonderful.

As Bella became more comfortable with Esme she would offer suggestions on recipes to try, comment on what spices she did not care for, or ask for specific meals. In turn, Esme would go on and on about the newest cookbook she was working through or the latest recipe she saw on the Food Network.

The leftovers, of which there was always plenty, would be packed up in Rubbermaid in pre-portioned servings that Charlie would bring to work the next day. When he eventually realized — after far too long for being the town’s only detective — who was making the meals he became an even bigger fan of Mrs. Cullen, unfortunately still disliking her son quite a lot. Once he offered to pay Esme for a portion of groceries she had simply laughed.

Bella had told Esme countless times she, and her father, was grateful but there was no need to go through so much trouble on their behalf. After the twelfth time Esme responded, “Truthfully, it is more for me than for you. I have missed cooking, and I can not tell you how nice it is to do it for someone who appreciates it.” That had been the end of Bella’s protestations.

After Bella was no longer able to indulge in food, Esme still sent Charlie home with a week’s worth of meals each time he visited; but her main mission was attempting to convince her granddaughter that some food could be as enticing as blood. It had proved to be a much harder task than she previously anticipated.

That day, Esme was making beef bourguignon — one of Bella’s favorites as a human and a classic for a reason — after discovering Renesmee was far more willing to, at the very least, taste meat-based dishes.

Bella, keeping with tradition, was re-reading Little Women at the kitchen bar as Esme cooked. The sound of oil crackling, a well-sharpened Chef’s knife chopping carrots, and a tape of Julia Child’s television program playing quietly on the small television — despite the fact Esme had the recipe memorized — were comforting.

Most of the family had fled the house for the afternoon, finding the smell of sauteeing vegetables grating but understanding whose name was on the deed of the house they lived in. Bella could hear the muffled clicks of plastic building blocks upstairs, where her husband and daughter were in the library building with Legos, one of the few children’s toys Renesmee would tolerate.

“Have you read this?” Bella asked, holding the book cover up for Esme to see the title. This was how most of their conversations started. Bella asked a mundane question she had thought over dozens of times.

Esme glanced up from the stove at the kitchen island where her carrots and onions were almost done cooking. “Dozens of times. I have only read the sequels once or twice.”

“There are sequels?” Bella asked, placing her bookmark to hold her page.

“Two. Little Men, which is about Jo’s students, and then there’s Jo’s Boys which is about the students and her sons in their adulthood.”

“Do you have a copy of either?”

Esme nodded, placing the seared meat back in her pot. “I think they should be in Carlisle’s study, they might be in the library, feel free to borrow them whenever you wish.”

There must have been thousands of books in the house, Carlisle owning the most, Esme owning the second largest collection and the widest variety, and while Jasper’s collection was notable in page numbers it housed very few books. As a human Bella had been reluctant to borrow any, despite blatant permission, but now that she was facing an eternity she could not read through most of the collection fast enough.

“Which March sister do you think you are?” Bella asked.

Esme sighed, uncorking the bottle of red wine. “Now that’s a difficult question. My husband says I’m Jo, and I suppose he should know better than anyone, but I don’t believe anyone who calls themselves a Jo.”

“I can see hints of Meg too.”

“Your husband has told me that before,” Esme smiled, measuring out two cups of the Merlot. ‘Your husband’ in reference to Edward still made Bella smile months after their wedding. “You’re a Beth.”

“You think?” Bella asked.

“Absolutely. Do you know who I think is an Amy?”

“Rosalie?”

“Thank you! She fails to see it.”

“Really?” It seemed a quite obvious connection to Bella.

“Yes, I have tried relentlessly to convince her to no avail.”

“Who is Alice?”

Esme shrugged, throwing in bouillon and herbs and setting the stove to a simmer. “She believes Laurie and Jo should have gotten married so I no longer give weight to her opinions on literature.”

“She does not,” Bella gasped as Esme nodded.

They grew quiet again, as Esme started to clean up the counter while the pot simmered.

“Which Bennet sister do you think you are?” Bella asked after a minute or two.

“Jane,” Esme said immediately. “More accurately I dream of being Jane.”

Jane made a lot of sense. From what very little Edward had told her of the days playing matchmaker for Carlisle and Esme, Darcy’s influence on Bingley and Jane’s courtship seemed an apt comparison too.

“I like to think of myself as Lizzie if for nothing else but Mr. Darcy, but I think I am Mary most days,” Bella said.

Esme laughed kindly. “I must admit I had never understood the full appeal of Darcy until I watched the PBS series.”

“You don’t like Darcy?” Bella gasped, failing to understand how one could not like one of the best romantic interests of all time.

“I always thought he was awfully indifferent and I could never imagine spending my life with that man, even for all the money in the world. Especially when compared to Bingley, but that Colin Firth,” she grinned, looking like the twenty-something she was. Bella laughed, having watched the PBS mini-series until the VHS tape threatened to give out.

The back door swung open as Bella began to respond and she fell silent.

“Hi, Lover,” Esme said, not needing to look up from her task at the stove to know the person entering the room was her husband.

Despite having the same supernatural abilities, enhanced even, Bella found the infrequent glimpses of how inhuman the Cullens truly were, was still shocking at times.

“Hello, Love,” Carlisle said, closing the backdoor. He waved to Bella, who waved back, pointing at the bouquet he was carrying with a raised brow in question. He pointed towards his wife who still had her back to him. “Apologies for interrupting.”

“We were discussing what Bennet sisters we were,” Bella said, not revealing their shared crush on Mr. Darcy.

“Mary,” he said pointing at Bella, he turned to his wife, “Jane, unless you had an opportunity to court the PBS version of Darcy.”

“That is precisely what we had established,” Esme laughed, a lighter-sounding laugh than earlier. The differences in Esme’s behavior when her husband was around were often subtle but impactful, the two seemed to gravitate around one another when in the same room, the same could be said for Carlisle. Bella often wondered if anyone could notice if her behavior changed and if it did at all when Edward was in the room.

“Whatever that is smells awful,” he said, setting the flowers on the counter behind Esme. One of the few times Bella had heard Dr. Cullen express his distaste for anything was over his wife’s proclivity for cooking, and the smell of the hobby.

“It’s bœuf bourguignon,” Esme said, walking over to the pantry to put away the wine and stock.

“C’est répugnant,” he grinned, despite his wife not looking at him.

“Your French pronunciation has somehow only gotten worse with age,” she laughed, “and for what it’s worth, I have learned when it smells disgusting it turns out well.”

“Everything you do does.”

Esme glanced over her shoulder so he could see her roll her eyes. “Has Emmett been teaching you pickup lines again?”

Carlisle laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek, placing a hand on her lower back as he passed her.

Bella had always enjoyed people-watching but something about observing Carlisle and Esme in particular was uniquely entertaining. Listening to the way their conversation bounced from one to another felt like watching a professional tennis match. In moments like the current one, they operated as if others were not present. She presumed after living so many years with others who could hear every word spoken, no matter how quietly, and nearly every thought, the facade of privacy was no longer a concern.

Carlisle walked over to a cabinet, opening the door to reveal shelves of vases and decorative plates. Tablecloths and cloth napkins were color-coded and hung on velvet hangers. He rummaged around for a minute, Esme glanced over to inspect the source of the noise as she closed the pantry.

“Pick one, please,” he said, pulling two vases out of the cabinet. She looked over her choices, a white porcelain with hand-painted flowers, and a cut crystal.

She pointed to the porcelain vase and he carried it to the sink. “You like to put a splash of salt and vinegar in the water, right?” He asked, turning on the tap.

“Cold water, two teaspoons of sugar, and one tablespoon of white vinegar,” she said, lifting the pot lid to inspect how the dish was simmering. “And yes, those are two different tools of measurement.”

“I used baking powder instead of baking soda one time,” he said to Bella, akin to an aside in a Shakespeare play.

“They are very different things,” Bella muttered.

“Thank you!” Esme exclaimed. “We have been having this argument for the past thirty-seven years.”

Carlisle said nothing — having been outnumbered in an arena he was clearly not the expert in — but was smiling to himself as he cut the ends off the flower stems. Esme slid the pot into the oven, setting the timer for two hours and thirty minutes.

“Who are the flowers for?” Esme finally asked as she passed her husband to get to the freezer, where she retrieved a large Ziploc bag of frozen vegetable scraps.

“The most beautiful woman in the world,” he grinned, arranging the flowers in their vase.

“Gene Tierney is buried in Houston, Texas,” she said plainly as she scrapped the scraps on her cutting board into the freezer bag, saving them to eventually make a stock.

“The woman I think is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Bella assumed by the couple’s similar smiles it was a well-worn inside joke, like so many of the things they said. Esme paused her task to glance at her husband, who was standing at the sink holding the vase out to her.

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” she said, walking to him, kissing him on the cheek, and then leaning down to smell the flowers. “What is the occasion?”

“Let’s see,” Carlisle sighed. “Happy eighty-sixth anniversary,” he pointed to a flower, one hand on her back, “Merry Christmas,” he pointed to another flower, “Happy New Year,” he continued picking a new flower for every holiday he prattled off. “Apologies for almost getting everyone we love murdered. Thank you for hosting everyone we know with such short notice. Hooray, we lived! Happy birthday. Happy baby’s birthday. My deepest condolences. And last but not least, thank you for not killing me when you awoke and learned what I had done to you.”

“Is that all? There’s one flower left,” Esme laughed, leaning into his side.

“I believe so, wait, Happy First Time We Met.”

“Is that this month?”

“January 29th,” Carlisle said with a soft, nostalgic, smile.

“I would have sworn that was in March,” she said quietly, with the faintest of frowns. “There was snow on the ground?”

“Very little. It had been unseasonably warm that month.”

“Are you sure you are not thinking of another woman you decided to turn into the bride of Dracula?” Esme teased.

“I am fairly certain there was only one of those,” he laughed, leaning closer to her despite their faces being mere inches apart.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Bella said and the couple both snapped their attention to her. “But wouldn’t you two have met the day Esme was turned?”

Their brows furrowed simultaneously. They glanced at each other and then back to her. From the confusion on their faces, one would think she had asked if they had seen hippos fly.

“No,” Carlisle said hesitantly, in that delicate tone she imagined he used with all his patients, “we met ten years prior.”

“What!” Bella exclaimed.

This reaction caused hearty laughter from the two standing across from her. Esme set the vase on the center of the island, to prevent dropping it while she laughed.

“Wouldn't that mean you met when you were a human?” She asked Esme, the one closest to her.

Esme laughed even harder, nodding. “Did Edward never mention this?”

“No!”

Esme glanced at her husband, who had stepped up beside her, leaning against the counter in a way that was shockingly human. “Your son is an idiot.”

“My son?”

“When he is being a fool, he is your son, yes.”

Carlisle laughed fondly, as Esme leaned down to mirror his posture, their shoulders bumping against one another.

“Okay, wait, so how did you two meet?” Bella asked, leaning forward.

Esme had spoken of her human life very seldom, much more infrequently than most of the others, besides Alice. Bella knew Esme had been married, at least she assumed, she knew she had a child that tragically passed, and she had died by her own hand. Had they dated during those ten years? Who was the father of her child? Why had Edward never mentioned any of this?

“Did you date for ten years? I mean Esme I thought you were marrie—”

“She was sixteen,” Carlisle said quickly. “She was a patient. Our meeting was purely professional.”

“He was my doctor,” Esme explained further. “I had broken my leg in a dignified and mature manner.”

“Tree climbing.”

“I was climbing trees in a dignified and mature manner,” she said pointedly, comically glaring at her husband. He bumped his shoulder against hers with a slight smirk. “It was not professional on my part, I thought he was quite charming, if not a tad arrogant.”

“Says the one who corrected my French,” he scoffed.

“Your French was, and still is, awful. You speak as if you’re on a French court in the 1700s.”

“Perhaps because that is where I learned.”

“Jay June,” Esme mocked.

“You knew French as a human?” Bella asked before Carlisle could respond to Esme’s comment, attempting to prevent them from launching into their typical banter that could last for hours.

From what little Esme had told her she presumed most of Esme’s impressive education had been postmortem. Bella had not been under the impression Esme as a teenager would have spoken French well enough to correct someone or be brave enough to correct a doctor.

“My grandmother and her family had immigrated from France when she was a child and she taught me,” Esme explained.

“Hence why a woman born in the middle of Ohio in 1895 is named Esme, improper spelling,” Carlisle teased.

“Are we remarking on odd names, Carlisle?”

He grinned at this but made no smart retort in response.

“I presume you have more questions,” Carlisle said, noticing Bella’s frown.

“So many. Like what did you think of each other? Did you remember him when you woke up? Did you think of changing her when you first met? Did you think of each other during the time that went by? Why were you climbing a tree?”

Esme’s head fell on her husband’s shoulder. “Would you like to begin?”

“It is your story,” he said politely.

Esme thought for a minute, presumably debating where to start. “I was attempting to avoid my mother and my chores so I retreated to our family’s orchard…”

----------------------------------

Two hours and thirty minutes later the oven timer went off as Carlisle was speaking, “I think the pastor thought we were up to something nefarious.”

“I always presumed he thought I was with child, and we were attempting to fool the public,” Esme laughed, standing to fetch the dish out of the oven.

“He did think that,” Edward said, walking into the kitchen, his daughter on his hip. “He did not mind that. He figured you two were going to get married either way, but he was quite puzzled about who I was.”

Carlisle and Esme laughed lightly. Esme pulled the pot out of the oven, sans oven mitts. Bella couldn’t help but shudder at the sight. Renesmee reached for her mother and Bella gladly took her, her daughter was almost too big for her lap so she gladly soaked in every moment.

“It’s still hot,” Esme said, placing a bowl in front of Renesmee.

Renesmee slightly grimaced at the smell of human food. “What do you say?” Bella coached.

“Thank you,” Renesmee said, still frowning at the food.

“I do not expect you to love it, but I would appreciate it if you took one bite before you decided you dislike it,” Esme said kindly.

“Okay,” Renesmee said, blowing on the food to cool it.

“Why didn’t you tell me they met when Esme was human?” Bella asked Edward, who had taken a seat on the barstool next to her.

“It did not seem relevant?” Edward smiled sheepishly.

“You thought the fact we met, I left, and she…” Carlisle realized his granddaughter was in the room, “her life turned out as it did, I felt the way I did about that, was not relevant to your situation?”

“No,” Edward said, looking down, that endearing lopsided grin on his face.

“Your son,” Esme told her husband, who only responded with a fond laugh.

#esme cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #renesmee cullen #edward cullen #my stories

44 notes · View notes