for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.
synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose
tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned
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"Cher!"
Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.
Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.
"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.
Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.
Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.
"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.
"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."
"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.
Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.
"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."
“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."
Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.
"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.
He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.
"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.
He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.
The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.
"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."
Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."
"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.
You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."
"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.
"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."
"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.
"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.
"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"
"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.
"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.
"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."
"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.
So this is what it's about?
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.
Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.
"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.
His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.
"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."
Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.
“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”
A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.
But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.
"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.
"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."
With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.
Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.
"Then you shall suffer the consequences."
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Suggestive
Gojo x f!reader
Description:
Gojo being the frustrating man that he can be, constantly pushing your buttons. In the end, he really just wants to be around you.
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Gojo just being mad annoying, trapping you against the wall when you’re frenzied over everything that needs to get done within the last 4 hours of your day. He has both hands on either side of your head, against the wall.
“‘Toru,” you say, hoping he’ll find the sign for him to move in your tone.
He doesn’t. Instead he just tilts his head, and mumbles a little “hm?”
“Please move.”
“Move me. I won’t put any effort to trying to stay grounded. All you have to do is push-“
You shove your palm into his ribs, not too hard, but enough for him to react quickly in order to stay in front of you.
“You said you weren’t gonna try.”
“I wasn’t ready. Now you can push me.”
It’s harder to move him this time. You know he’s putting some effort into staying in place.
You sigh, not yet defeated, but a tad bit frustrated. “Why are you doing this? It’s the one day out of the whole week that I choose to organize the house and you’re making it difficult. You know Thursday is a cleaning day.”
“I’m not doing anything. Like I said, you can push me aside.” He grins like the menace he is. His response makes your heart race in your frustrated state.
You don’t move, instead begin to stare past him in protest of the attention he’s feeding off of. So he steps closer, his abdomen against yours. Your hands fly up to his chest, maintaining the smallest amount of distance. He looks down at you, this wanting look in his eyes.
“No, no, no. Stop. Save those eyes for the chocolate bar that’s in the freezer.”
“Baby…” he coos.
Ah shit. You mentally curse yourself for how weak you get when he uses that tone with you.
“Satoru, don’t.”
“Baby, just come with me.” His mouth lowers down to your neck, where he places featherlight kisses. He goes up the side of your neck until he reaches your ear where he whispers things to you. Things that make your heart race, and the space between your thighs grow needy. “I miss the sound of your voice.”
You’re breaking. You shake your head in denial, and he lets out a chuckle through his nose.
“I miss your pretty skin against mine.” His hands snake beneath your shirt and settle on your waist. “It’s always good. You know it. I know it.”
The way his voice went down an entire octave to say that flustered you. You started giggling nervously.
“I know I’m tempting you. Just let me put the stars in your eyes again, mama. You’ve done enough cleaning.” His thumbs leave a ticklish feeling behind where they press on your sides.
“You’re killing me.”
“I want you to come with me.” There was an emphasis on the word ‘come’—something he didn’t think you would catch.
“S-Stop. I need to… fold…”
“Yeah, looks like you’re folding already.” He grabs your hand. “It’s okay, princess. Let me help you decompress.”
“But-”
“Ah.”
“I-”
“Mm-mm.”
He won. You let him take you to the room, and he made you forget all about that basket of clothes you needed to fold.
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Sooo maybe I was thinking about innocent!Oscar and his girl riding his thigh for the first time. His hands would hover around her hips not knowing if she needs help or not because she’s humping his thigh like a mad woman and her leg would be bumping Oscar’s cock every few trusts and he’d go insane
im gonna be sick oh my god. sorry rushed this bc i love the idea. hope u like it <3
Oscar's suit is too hot, too tight and he can't get the velcro and zipper undone fast enough. He feels like he's overheating as his girlfriend rolls her hips against his thigh, her leg brushing his aching cock with each movement she makes. A strangled moan slips from his lips as he tugs his arms out of the suit, his face pressing into her chest as he leans forward to remove the suit from his torso. Her hands find his cheeks to pull him up into a kiss and she moans as he nips at her lip. He can't breathe with her this close. His head is spinning with how turned on he is and he hasn't even been touched. He doesn’t know where to put his hands after he gets his race suit off, he reaches for her hips to help but his fingers clumsily bump her skin and he jerks back, hovering his hands above her rocking hips.
A moment later, she pulls back from the kiss and her hands find his, guiding them to her chest. His eyes flick open and she’s grinning down at him, her fingers pressing down against his to signal him to play with her tits. He wants to say thanks, for giving him something to do with his hands, to occupy his mind so he’ll stop thinking about her leg pressing against his cock. He takes over, squeezing softly and brushing his thumbs over her nipples before pinching them through her shirt. She whines pleasantly, hands leaving his to rest on his shoulders for leverage. Her hips pick up pace and he groans as the pressure on his cock increases.
Oscar doesn't know how he got so lucky to wind up with someone like this. He's never felt the slick from a woman's pussy coating his thigh before, but he can feel her soaking through his suit as she rocks her hips against his thigh and he's never been harder. Every moan she lets out makes him dizzy, he wants to record this scene and watch it from every angle. They have to look absolutely gone at this point, with the way her panties are still hanging from one ankle off the couch and her skirt is hitched up around her hips. The sight of her head tipped back and kissed red lips sends him into a frenzy, he lunges forward and presses his lips to her neck, sucking harshly on the skin of her throat. She presses her chest into his and moans his name, her hips stuttering as she gasps, “‘M gonna cum baby.”
He pulls back from the mark he was making and tugs her shirt up over her breasts, and finds a new target in her sensitive nipples. He takes the right one between his lips first, nipping and tugging at it with his teeth before kissing it softly and switching to the other side. She moans lewdly, fingers curling into his hair to keep his mouth on her chest. He can feel the steady pace fade as she gets closer, and he takes it as a sign to let his hands slide down her sides to grasp at her hips and move them for her. Her nails dig into his shoulders through his race suit and she whimpers, "Yeah, like that, baby. So good for me." He moans against her skin at the praise and rolls her hips down again, bouncing his knee a little as he does so and he's rewarded by her tensing on top of him before he feels a shiver run though her body as her orgasm hits her. He can feel her knee rubbing against his cock as he drags her hips across his thigh to work her through her orgasm. Oscar feels like a teenager trying not to burst in his pants as he feels her orgasm soaking through his suit, her fingers tugging his hair, knee brushing against his too hard cock.
He slumps back into the couch when she tugs his mouth away from her abused nipple and presses back against his hands as he tries to glide her against his thigh again. She whines as her oversensitive clit drags against the fabric and he drops his hands to his sides. He looks up at her, and feels his cock twitch in his suit as she shifts on his lap so her cunt isn't resting on his thigh. She grins down at him and brushes the hair off his forehead, "Sorry, I made a mess." He can't find the words to respond, too shocked that she just humped his thigh until she came to remember that he's about to get in his car in this very suit and drive in circles for two hours.
He blushes as he looks down at the wet spot on his suit, shiny and slick. He rubs two fingers over the spot, collecting the mess on his fingers before bringing it up to his lips. Her eyes widen and her smile falters as she gasps when his finger slip into his mouth and he licks them clean. She instinctively rocks her hips against his at the action, craving the feeling of his mouth on her, then regrets it as her entire body jolts with oversensitivity as her clit rubs against his cock. He moans around his fingers and his eyes flutter shut and her grin returns fully.
She scoots back on his lap and unzips his race suit more, tugging it down his hips enough that she can get to his fireproof briefs and tug his cock out. Oscar's entire body is buzzing as he feels her hand wrap around his cock, thick and heavy and slick with precum. He pulls his fingers from his mouth as she begins stroking him and he groans, "M not gonna last, could feel you... fuck- 'M already so close."
She nods even though he can't see her, her mind overrun with how hot it is how reactive he is to her, that she'd barely touched him and he's ready to cum. Then she realizes he'll be making an even bigger mess on his suit if she makes him cum like this, his cum shooting ropes all over his fireproofs. The mess on his thigh is bad enough, she doesn't want to make it worse. She slips back off his thigh and clumsily resituates herself on her knees between his thighs, Oscar's eyes pop open at the movement, wondering what she's up to, but before he can ask what she's doing, she has her mouth around him and he's cutting himself off with a moan. Instead of fully sucking him off, she teasingly sucks at the head while jerking him off.
Oscar lasts maybe ten seconds before he's whimpering a warning, and his thighs are twitching on either side of her, trapping her in place as she ignores his warning and finally bobs her head down. His orgasm hits him as his cock hits the back of her throat and he clamps a hand down over his mouth to prevent anyone from hearing the moans he lets out. He chances a peek down at her and regrets it when he sees the mix of spit and cum around her lips as she bobs her head and he feels his cock twitch and dribble out more cum. She bats her eyelashes at him as she pulls off and swallows, licking her lips before pushing herself up and climbing back onto his lap. He could still taste her slick on his lips when hers met his and the taste of his own cum joined the mix.
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Pregnant Pause
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.
Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v (duh). Daddy Daryl + daddy!kink Daryl. Difficulties trying to conceive.
Note: Part 2 to Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk. I fully blame @murdadixon and the Blood Ties series for all the pregnancy-related one shots lately - veryyyy much in my Daddy Daryl era now 🫣💓💘
If trying to get knocked up was an Olympic sport, you would’ve won the gold.
On the merits of your efforts alone you and Daryl probably should’ve had several hundred babies under your belt by now. Thousands. The past six months had been nothing but babymaking, a steady stream of rawdog bedroom rodeos and two-person pushups being your primary form of sustenance. But, try as you might, there wasn’t so much as a whiff of a kid in sight after all this time. You were starting to lose hope.
When, one month, your period didn’t make its usual appearance two days after the time it was meant to, you were over the moon with excitement.
Swinging one leg over Daryl’s sleeping form to straddle him in bed, you leaned down and shook him hard.
“Daryl!” you hissed, pinching him under his shirt.
The man below you grunted, shuffled, and blinked uncertainly up at you before slowly raking his eyes over your body and starting to smirk.
“Climb on, cowgirl,” he purred, already starting to tug your panties down.
Your hands quickly covered his and stalled their movements, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.
“Not that, not that!” you whispered, “I’m late.”
“Fer what?” Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand.
“My period.”
Daryl’s gaze darted back to yours. A beat as he processed what you meant.
“No shit?”
“Shit.” You were nodding, beaming.
Daryl hauled himself to his feet in a second, taking you with him. Then he slipped you onto the floor and raced you to the door, practically fighting you through the threshold of the bathroom to get to the cupboards first.
Together, you flung cabinet doors open far and wide and went foraging for little blue boxes in somewhat of a frenzy. Daryl was chucking pads and tampons and rolls of toilet paper over his shoulder while you stuck yourself waist-deep in another stuffy wooden space, searching in earnest for that stupid Clearblue logo.
“Got it!” Daryl chirped. You almost smacked your head on the sink coming out so fast.
“Yeah?!”
Daryl thrust a blue-and-white stick in your direction, grinning with pride.
Your eyes narrowed just a little. Your stomach sank.
“Daryl, that’s a thermometer.”
Your boyfriend’s mouth hung slightly ajar in an ‘o’ shape, and you couldn’t even be mad at his attempt.
Trying to hide your dismay, you sighed and told him to keep looking. You crawled back over to the cupboard and felt a gentle coil just then start to take shape in your stomach—whether that might’ve been a real-life baby or another burst of anxious nerves, you couldn’t be sure. You and Daryl continued to comb over the boxes and bottles lined across your shelves.
That was how your day had started. It continued, at present, outside a largely dilapidated Target Superstore, with your hands on your hips and your eyes scanning a sea of the undead that occupied its front entrance. Shit was worse than any Black Friday crowd you’d ever seen.
“You sure you don’t wanna check the Walgreens?” you asked, tightening your grip on the rifle in your hands.
“Place was overrun last time I checked. Got a camp of military types stationed nearby too. Best ta leave ‘em be,” Daryl answered.
You suspected if anyone came across the two of you now they’d be put off just the same—with the AK-47 in your arms and the crossbow/M4 Carbine combo on Daryl’s person, you probably looked every bit as lethal as you’d ever been.
All for an itty bitty pee stick and some snacks.
You sat down on one of the red cement balls to your left and crossed your arms. You watched the herd. If there was just some way to slip in, sight unseen, and sneak past their rotting bodies to get to the Sexual Wellness section, maybe rappel from the ceiling and drop dead on the spot, go in guns blazing or else just—”
“Mask it,” Daryl said, suddenly.
You raised an eyebrow but quickly had your curiosity quelled when Daryl nodded toward a throng of walkers down the way.
There were four or five of them stacked together, crushed between shopping carts and pinned, interminably, in place as they stood, hissed, and clawed in your general direction.
Daryl had a hatchet in hand in a second. You watched, enthralled, as he made lightning quick work of the walkers, hacking off their arms, dismantling their jaws, and slinging rope around their bodies like they were little more than a miniature herd of cattle. He came back smiling, probably thinking to himself how proud Michonne would be if she could see him now.
“Here,” he hummed. He passed over the rope attached to two jawless walkers like they were pets on a leash.
You accepted it and joined him as he walked, eyeing your newly-tripled group with a curious look.
“Should we—” you started.
“Not naming them,” Daryl said before you could finish.
The six of you trudged along a path of broken glass and steered toward one of the semi-shattered doors. Your stomach started to twist when the sounds of the groaning walkers within reached your ears.
“’S’okay. Nothin’s gonna hurt us with these ugly fucks around,” Daryl murmured to you, glancing back at the doe-eyed, mutilated geeks at your rear.
You nodded silently and followed his lead. The pair of you were practically halfway through the entrance now, making your way past piles of debris and gradually drawing closer to the hissing mob inside. You eyed the looming horde, chewed the inside of your cheek, and yanked your brand new friends a little closer.
And, like magic, the herd hardly stirred when you approached the perimeter. A few parted ways enough to give you entry and, when you’d stepped inside, proceeded to close right back around as if you were one of their own. Not a single snarling mouth or clouded eye turned your way as you and Daryl shuffled ahead, mimicking their moans and hisses and occasionally trading looks as if to say, ‘No fucking way this is working.’
You carried on. Followed by sight where streams of light went pouring in through the caved-in ceiling. Even looked to a couple worn and faded aisle numbers and quickly learned you were much closer than you thought.
You slowed your pace.
“Condoms, 2:00,” you whispered, trying to direct Daryl’s attention to the right.
The pregnancy tests were always stationed somewhere near the condoms—like a warning, you thought. You never could’ve imagined you’d be so happy to see that silent admonition in your life, now, as you and Daryl sidled over to the scattered rows of sexual wellness products and took a closer look.
Daryl reached down, seized a box, and held it up to you.
“Nope. Ovulation test,” you shook your head.
Another.
“Pantyliners.”
“Goddamn, how many pussy products do y’all need?” Daryl groaned, stepping aside to let you check the shelves yourself.
You found a pregnancy test in four seconds flat. You chucked the box his way and grabbed half a dozen more.
Internally, you would’ve loved to celebrate this momentous occasion, but rationally, you knew there were several hundred flesh-eating horrors just waiting for you to fuck up and serve yourselves on a platter a stone’s throw away. Moreover, you were ill at ease—almost fearful—of the result you might get from the tests. After six months of setbacks and cyclic, habitual frustration, you almost didn’t want to know one way or another. You weren’t fit to face another disappointment.
When your gaze flitted to Daryl’s, you saw his expression had softened. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and cradled your head to his chest.
“Don’t matter what the test says,” he murmured into your hair, stroking it softly, “’m gonna put a damn baby in ya if it’s the last thing I do.”
You surprised yourself by bursting into laughter, not tears, on his front, trying to stifle the sounds in his shirt as he hugged you tighter. You squeezed him back, held him close, and almost forgot your four drooling companions and the many more still prowling about the store. You turned your head up to Daryl.
“I love you,” you said.
“I love you too.”
Daryl leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips.
He probably meant it to be a peck, nothing more than a second or two, but when you pulled him in and really kissed him back, he didn’t mind at all.
He walked you back into a shelf, pushed your body as careful as he could so as not to disturb any items behind you. You brought a hand to his hair and threaded it tight through your fingers, prompting the smallest of groans between you. Daryl stepped a little closer.
The second your tongue breached the seal of his lips, you felt a hand slide down to your backside and nudge you up a little, so you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues delved deeper, hands roamed further, and moans took on a volume that likely wasn’t safe at all for your current surroundings. Your four gummy-mouthed comrades stood as silent and still as ever.
“Wanna— have another go for good measure?” you muttered against Daryl’s lips. Hips grinding with his against all your better judgment.
“Couldn’t...hurt,” Daryl groaned in return.
Undoubtedly, it could do more than just hurt you—if those walkers sniffed you out, they’d kill you—but, as it was, neither of your hormone-charged bodies had the presence of mind to say any differently. You and Daryl shed clothes quicker than either of you could comprehend and, within a minute, were back on each other with another flurry of quick, frantic kisses.
Daryl gripped your bare hips, pinned them to the shelf, and almost cursed in your mouth when the whole damn thing threatened to give way.
In a blink, he’d grabbed the metal behind you and was slowly, desperately trying to yank it back while you cast a look around you.
Nothing roaming nearby. At least as far as you could see.
You shifted as though you were going to slide out of Daryl’s arms, but he just drew you closer. Once he’d righted the shelf, he secured his arm underneath you and grinned.
“Wanna take this someplace a little more private?”
You nodded and motioned toward the big ‘Rx’ sign at the end of the aisle. Daryl followed your gaze.
The pharmacy counter would have to do.
You were propped up against the cool surface in no time at all—right after Daryl had tied the walkers to a nearby pole—and suddenly you felt warmth all around. In spite of your nearly stark naked stature, you were enveloped by Daryl’s body, pressed flush against the counter and feeling his touch run every which way he pleased. He kissed, licked, and sucked every supple inch of your skin and acted like it was the first time he’d tasted you in ages. Like it wasn’t last night, and the morning before that, and every day preceding that he’d gotten his fill.
Daryl watched with eyes that drank you in like a novelty, and somewhere deep within you both, you knew you needed this now.
You hardly had a moment’s time to think before Daryl was thrusting inside you. Laying you flat on your back and fucking you hard against the counter with your legs draped over either one of his shoulders.
Daryl fought back a moan when your walls first welcomed him, slow at first, but maddening all the same. You felt a hand drift to your neck and seize it at the base, saw Daryl lean in a little and say, through gritted teeth,
“Tha’s my good girl— take daddy’s cock.”
You whimpered in response, feeling him rut his hips even harder. Daryl squeezed your throat as he did, and, seeing how much you loved it, held it there as long as you could take it before you came gasping for air.
He’d fill you to the hilt, pull out, and do it all again, quietly moaning your name as he pumped in and out.
“Fuck, Daryl, I— fuck,” you tried, and failed, to speak a coherent sentence as the archer picked up speed.
“Wha’s’at, honey? Ya say sumn’?” Daryl pried, pretending like he wasn’t already sending you straight to the brink of orgasm with the force of each stroke.
You hummed in an effort to conceal your moan but ended up letting loose an even louder sound, punctuated by something of a shriek when Daryl delivered a particularly hard blow. You clamped a hand over your mouth and watched Daryl shoot a look over his shoulder. Then he turned back, smirking.
“Didn’t quite catch tha’, honey,” he managed between ragged thrusts, “Wanna moan a little louder so the whole fuckin’ store can hear?”
You shot him a look as if to say, ‘Get fucked’—then pulled him even deeper with your fingers wrapped fast around his forearms. Daryl hardly seemed fazed, simply dropping a hand between your legs and offering another shit-eating grin when your body jolted under his touch.
“Feel good, baby?” he hummed.
You nodded and whimpered. Couldn’t help but clench when he leaned forward and angled your legs higher. Daryl let out a throaty moan.
“Gonna cum f’me?”
Before you could answer, he lowered himself even closer, ‘til your legs were all the way up by your ears and your body was chock-full of pleasure, all but brimming with tears. You tried to nod, found that you could scarcely move, and felt Daryl cup your face in his hand as he continued to fuck you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip,
“Cum fer daddy, then. Cum all over this cock.”
Daryl knew he didn’t need to tell you twice. In a matter of seconds he felt you come undone beneath him, hands gripping him tight and walls clenching even harder. He caught your lips in a sloppy kiss, tried to quiet your moans, but found himself chasing that high not too long after. He spilled his seed inside you and watched your face contort with pleasure—not from your climax alone, but that pure, primal feel of his warmth spreading out deep within you.
The two of you parted, panted, and grinned in each other’s faces like that wasn’t the single dumbest, and most dangerous, fuck you’d had in your entire lives.
You didn’t need to exchange a word; you knew you shared identical thoughts. Daryl squeezed your thigh.
Twenty minutes later, with your walker quartet in tow, you paced a nervous path back and forth before your car in the parking lot. On the hood sat half a dozen, urine-soaked pregnancy tests with the screens facing down. You stopped and turned to Daryl, eyes locking on his.
“Ready?”
“Flip ‘em.”
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Dionysus & Bacchus cheat sheet deep dive
Signs he's reaching out • smelling wine all of a sudden, craving wine, You feel a twinge of madness, dreams with his attributes with him, seeing references of him everywhere
Herbs •psalakanthos plant, Grapes and their vines, Figs, Bay laurel, Barley, Pine, Pomegranate, Fennel, apples, berries, weed, Silver Fir, Bindweed, poppy, wheat and hops leafs, wildflowers, pine cones, Apple seeds, Blazing star. I think he would like Cinnamon, mint, feverfew (happiness), Pepper, basil, chives, horseradish (courage), orange, lemongrass, marjoram (insight), vanilla, sorrel, cinnamon (love)
Animals• Oxen and wild animals, asses, Leopards, Panther, Cheetah, serpents, rams, dolphins, tigers, lynx, panthers, goats, bats, griffons, bulls
Colors •purple, green, gold, Red, Black, White.
Patron of• fruit and intoxitation, Parties, Festivities, Banquets, Drinking, Bacchic Revelry, Madness, Bacchic Frenzy, Insanity, Hallucination, Homosexuality, Effeminacy, Cross-dressing, Forest Wilderness, Wild vegetation, Predatory big cats, Reincarnation, The path to Elysium, Comedy and Tragedy Plays, Playwrites, Actors, bartenders, the arts, non-binary people.
Curses• violence, and sickness, Destructive insanity, madness
Blessings• pleasure and fun, Religious frenzy (in the orgiastic cults), Ecstasy, Afterlife in Elysium (paradise), getting a bigger friend group, charismatic going up, getting a romantic partner.
Diety of• wine-making, orchards, fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, theatre, partying, Epiphany, weddings, death, sacrifice, sexuality, dancing, immortality, and reincarnation, uninhibited freedom, as well as the subversion of the powerful, ecstasy, and abandon, swamps and marshes.
Crystals• Amethyst, grape agate, Garnet, Ruby, deep red stones, tiger eye, serpentine, leopard jasper, amber, green opal or jade, carnelian, rose quartz (someone had it on their alter for him, so I added it here.), bloodstone, sugilite, purple fluorite, ametrine lepidolite
Mortal or immortal • immortal
Zodiac • Taruas
Vows/omans• none
Number• 7
Morals• he is morally ambiguous
Married to• Ariadne
Past lovers• Althaia, Ampelos, Aphrodite, Erigone, Kronois, Pallene, Physokoa, Polymnos.
What he favors in devotees• free-spirited, out-of-the-norm, wild lifestyle, gender fluid, transgender, nonbinary people. People are restricted wanting to become free.
Personality• He brings joy, ecstasy, and merriment, but also delivers "brutal and blinding rage”, he's a very chill guy, many say he is sassy. I met him once, and he respects people's boundaries.
Home• Mount Olympus
Equivalents/most resemblance • Osiris, Hades, Sabazios, Yahweh, Bacchus, Liber, Tammuz, Orotalt, Fufluns, Acan, Jesus.
Epithets• Acratophorus, Ἀκρατοφό.ρος “giver of unmixed wine at Phigaleia in arcadia, Acroreites at Sicyon Adoneus a Latinised form of Adonis and is also used as an epithet for Bacchus, AegobolusΑἰγοβόλος "goat-shooter" at Potniae in Boeoria, Aesymnetes Αἰσυμνήτης “ruler" or "lord" at Aroë and Patrae in Achaea, Agrios Ἄγριος "wild", in Macedonia, Androgynos Ἀνδρόγυνος ”Androgynous” specifically in intercourse referring to the god taking both an active male and a passive female role, Anthroporraistes, Ἀνθρωπορραίστης “man-destroyer" a title of Dionysus at Tenedos, Bassareus, Βασσαρεύς "fox-skin", which item was worn by his cultists in their mysteries. Bougenes, Βουγενής or Βοηγενής “borne by a cow", in the Mysteries of Lerna,
Braetes, Βραίτης "related to beer" at Thrace, Briseus Βρῑσεύς "he who prevails" in Smyrna, Bromios Βρόμιος "roaring” and "roar of thunder" refering to the wind amd primarily relating to the central death/resurrection element of his myths and also the god's transformations into lion and bull and of those who drink alcohol and refers to Dionysus' father, Zeus "the thunderer", Choiropsalasχοιροψάλας “pig-plucker" Greek χοῖρος = "pig"(which was used as a slang term for the female genitalia as A reference to Dionysus's role as a fertility deity), Chthonios Χθόνιος “the subterranean”, Cistophorus Κιστοφόρος "basket-bearer and ivy-bearer" because baskets are sacred to the Dionysus,Dimetor Διμήτωρ "twice-born" which Refers to Dionysus's two births, Dendrites Δενδρίτης "he of the trees" as a fertility god, Dithyrambos Διθύραμβος used at his festivals referring to his premature birth, Eleutherios Ἐλευθέριος “the liberator" also a epithet shared with Eros, Endendros ("he in the tree"), Enorches "with balls" with reference to his fertility, or "in the testicles" in reference to Zeus' sewing the baby Dionysus "into his thigh" which means his testicles used in Samos and Lesbos, Eridromos"good-running" in Nonnus' Dionysiaca, Erikryptos Ἐρίκρυπτος "completely hidden" in Macedonia, Euaster Εὐαστήρ from the cry "euae", Euius (Euios), from the cry "euae" in lyric passages, and in Euripides’ play “the bacche, Lacchus Lακχος a possible epithet which is associated with the Elusinian Mysteries, The name "Iacchus" may come from the Ιακχος (Iakchos) whicj is a hymn sung in honor of Dionysus.
Indoletes, Ἰνδολέτης, meaning slayer/killer of Indians Due to his campaign against the Indians, Isodaetes, Ισοδαίτης, meaning "he who distributes equal portions", cult epithet which is also shared with Helios, Kemilius, Κεμήλιος and kemas: "young deer, pricket",
Liknites "he of the winnowing fan", as a fertility god connected with mystery religions ( a winnowing fan was used to separate the chaff from the grain.)
Palazzo Massimo, Rome, Lenaius, Ληναῖος "god of the wine-press", Lyaeus, or Lyaios Λυαῖος, "deliverer” and "loosener") which refers to him as who releases from care and anxiety,
Lysius, Λύσιος "delivering, releasing" At Thebes there was a temple of Dionysus Lysius, MelanaigisΜελάναιγις "of the black goatskin" at the Apaturia festival,
Morychus Μόρυχος “smeared" in Sicily, because his icon was smeared with wine less at the vintage, Mystes Μύστης "of the mysteries" at Tegea in Arcadia, Nysian Nύσιος according to Philostatus he was called like this by the Ancient indians Most probably, because according to legend he founded the city of Nysa, Oeneus, Οἰνεύς "wine-dark" as god of the wine press, Omadios “flesh-eater", Eusebius writes in Preparation for the gospel that Euelpis of Carystus states that in Chios and Tendos they did a human sacrifice to Dionysus Omadios,
Phallen , (Φαλλήν) (probably "related to the phallus” at Lesbos, Phleus "related to the bloοm of a plant", Peudanor Ψευδάνωρ "false man" referring to his feminine qualities in Macedonia,
Pericionius, Περικιόνιος "climbing the column (ivy)" a name of Dionysus at Thebes, Semeleios or Semeleius or Semeleus an obscure epithet meaning 'He of the Earth' and 'son of Semele' Also “Son of Semele, Iakchus, wealth-giver”,
Skyllitas, Σκυλλίτας “related to the vine-branch" at Kos, Sykites, Συκίτης "related to figs" at Laconia,Taurophagus, Ταυροφάγος “bull eating", Tauros Ταῦρος “a bull", Theoinus, Θέοινος wine-god of a festival in Attica, Τhyiοn, Θυίων "from the festival of Dionysus 'Thyia' (Θυῐα) at Elis", Thyllophorus, Θυλλοφόρος "bearing leaves" at Kos, Dionysus and Zeus absorbs the role of Sabazios (a Thracian/Phrygian deity)
Facts• Dionysus was the last god to enter Olympus, When Dionysus had grown up lady Hera made him into a state of madness so he wandered through many countries of the earth, He was a student of the famous centaur Chiron who taught him how to dance, The common names Dennis and Denise are said to be derived from Dionysus. he hated the sight of an owl
Roots• Ancient Greece, Greek mythology, Mount Pramnos on Ikaria
Offerings • Honey, Meat, Alcohol (especially wine), Fruit, Cakes, Poetry, Songs, Spices (ex- cinnamon), Blood or liquids resembling blood, He thinks those "wine mom" signs that you get in cheap gift shops are hilarious, Grape juice, Intoxicants, Grapes, Olive oil, Apples, Figs, Eggs, Goblets, Curved daggers, Bull horns, Snake skin, Leopard or tiger print objects, Purple candles, Theatre masks, Sexual toys, Percussion instruments, Wine bottles, Fake/toy grapes, Leaves or curls from grapevines, Pine needles, Pinecones, Apple seeds, Bindweed, Wildflowers, Toys photos or art of any big cats, snakes, Hymns, Songs you’ve written, Any art that you create, Any stories that you create, Art, pictures of the comedy, Wine corks, Wine labels, Toy or miniature drums, milk, water from the sea (he has a strong connection with the sea), Decorative beads, party beads, flashy jewelry, Wine glasses, Shot glasses, Corkscrews, Sparkling cider, Grape flavored things, Cheese, hallucinogens, Nips (small alcohol bottles), Bottle opener, Beer/soda tabs, Alcohol bottles with cool labels, Costumes, NatureFig/fig newtonsBull imagery, Donkey imagery, Bones, Antlers, Dead/preserved animals, Hiking gear, Seeds, Concert/festival tickets, Locks of hair, Shaven beard hair, Pride swag, ravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good.
Devotional • learn about sacred sex, shamanic journeying, responsible entheogen use, and alcohol as a sacrament, read “The Secret History” book, Make a playlist for Him, Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like, Throw a feast in His honor, Remembering to take your medication and taking care of your mental health, Support/donate to your local theatre in His name, Be a part of the theatre, Stand up for those that are marginalized, Write stories/plays for Him, Invite Him to watch plays or movies with you (especially comedies or tragedies), Throw parties or attend them, Attend festivals, Attend a wine tasting, Go on wine tours, Attend parades, Masturbate or partake in sexual acts for Him (if you’re comfortable doing so And over 18), Drink alcohol or grape juice, Smoke po, Learn about winemaking, Support local vineyards, Wear wreaths made from ivy, Wear faux leopard or tiger print, Wear the color purple, Pray to Him for things while intoxicated/high, Visit your local winery and participate in a grape-stomp, do some Homebrewing in his honor, Grow a garden in his honor, Make your own ritual tools in his honor, Collect art, do Glamourbombs in his honor, Pretend to be somebody else in his honor, go out to a club in his honor, listen to music in his honor, read in his his mythos, write things for a ritual and write a prayer for him, eat some grapes or have some grape juice or sparkling grape juice (or wine if able and of age), listen to party music, read plays, watch musicals or plays (ex- high school musical, Hamilton), listen to musical soundtracks, learn about the history of theatre, learn about viticulture and vineyards, do things that bring you pleasure, listen to party soundscapes, watch documentaries about any of his sacred animals, Trip intentionally/spiritually, Learn about substance abuse/recovery, Destigamtize drug users, Learn about harm reduction, Make home videos, Write poetry, Act, Dress up, Go to the woods, Dance/sing in the woods, Meditate in the woods, Learn wilderness safety and first aid, Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal, Go off the beaten path, Explore new areas, Pick up litter, Forage, Recycle bottles, Grow fruit, Try new fruits, Have sex (let the partner know beforehand it's in Diyonisus honor, 18+), Masturbate (18+), Have threesomes/swing (ask him before and make sure the other participants know it's in Dionysus's honor, 18+.), Finally, give into that one kink you’ve been ignoring (you know the one, 18+), Learn about consent with partners, Learn how to preserve dead animals, Learn about different life cycles (ex-plants, animals), Learn about immigration in your area, Learn about different cultures, Try foreign foods, Learn a new language, Learn about your ancestry, Help immigrants in your area, Grow your hair out, Keep a Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal, Use Sexual/creative energy to manifest, Shed your old self, Do Self-reflection/self-exploration, Identify areas where you overindulge (ex- food, substances, spending).
Symbols• Grapevine, ivy, phallus, Thyrsus, theatrical masks, Leopard Skin, Panther, Cheetah, the animal called asses, cymbals, swords, or serpents, rams, laurel, asphodel, dolphins, tiger, lynx, panther, horns, goats, his chariot pulled by 2 leopards, masks in general.
Siblings• Ares, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, Hebe, Hermes, Heracles, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Perseus, Minos, the Muses, the Graces.
His friends/gets along with• Maenads and Bacchantes and Satyrs and Sileni and Pan and Priapus
Attendees• Seilenos (God of Drunkenness), Pan (God of Shepherds & Pastures) the Satyroi and Seilenoi (spirits of Fertility & the Wild) The Bakkhantes and Mainades (Nymphe and Women revellers) Komos Satyriskos (cup-bearer)
Appearance in astral or gen• Dionysus often took on a bestial shape and was associated with various animals, often wearing an Ivy wreath, the thyrsus, and the kantharos (a large two-handled goblet) In early Greek art he has represented as a mature male, bearded and robed holding a fennel staff tipped with a pine-cone, but later on he was portrayed as youthful sensuous, naked or semi-naked androgynous youth and effeminate with brown hair and pale features, often holding grapes and drinking wine.
Parentage• Zeus and Semele, some sources also say Zeus and Demeter, some say Zeus and Persephone, but he always sends up with Persephone as a foster mother or as a biological mother, but before his reincarnation, his parents were Ammon and Amalthea.
Pet• leopards
Children • Priapus, Hymen, Thaos, Staphylus, Ononpion, Cumus, Phthonus, the Graces and Deianira, Seilenos, Pan, Satyroi & Seilenoi, Bakkhantes & Mainades, Komodo’s
season and festivles• Diyonosus festivals were bacchanalia, Dionysia, Anthesteria, Dionysian, Lenaia, Panathenaia, his season was spring and March and April
Day• 11th to the 13th of the month of Anthesterion, around the time of the January or February full moon.
Sacred places• Boitia in Greece, naxos Greek, island Edina in western Thrake, his holiest shrine was Mt kithairon (Nysa) in Boiotia Greece, he also declared war on India. A sacred place is the theatre.
Status• Greek god in the major theoi, and an agriculture Demi God.
Pet peeves• Uderestemating him, he probably won't like it if you ignore him
Music• Disco, show tunes, psychedelic rock, acid folk, Greek folk music, EDM, classical, new wave, art pop, vaporwave, just anything you can dance and sing to.
Tarot• Temperance, fool card, three of cups, the tower, 9 of cups (based off of how people see him through their tarot cards)
Scents/Inscene • Pine incense, frankensince, patchouli and vanilla, nutmeg, mulled wine, storax, and Benzoin, he dislikes lavender.
Prayers•
Regular prayer
Dionysos, god whose arrival is swift and certain, enduring friend of women and men whose welcome is warm, bringer of light, we see you in shadows. Dionysos, granter of great blessings, your presence is a heady wine. Kind-hearted god, to each you give as is fitting, each vessel you fill only as we can bear, and yet with even a sip, we are drunk upon you, and our faith is affirmed. Awesome god, by our own will we drink deeply, with you we become lost, we wander, we are found.
Litany to Dionysos
Dionysos of the vine, rich-tressed god of wine, potent and lusty, unmixed, undiluted, with full force you come to us, vital and robust, rich and strong and surprisingly sweet. Dionysos, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Ivy-bearing Dionysos, god of the green, of the power of root on stone, the force of life that will make its own way in spite of all who labor to hold it back, no will or work can bind your might. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos of the deep earth, of the dark world, of the unknown expanse beneath the black soil, beneath solid stone, of mysteries you know much, of death and of what lies beyond. God of secrets, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos the inspiring, granter of words of prose or poesy, words heard best by the drunken and the mad, words forgotten with the passing of night and delight. Bacchus, granter of rare transport, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos Soter, holder of the hearts of men, you free us from the cares of the world, each brilliant frenzied moment a shining jewel, each glimpse of the sacred more precious than gold. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Kindly Dionysos, granter of good to men and women, giver of gifts to all who seek your blessing. Gracious Dionysos, accepter of offerings great and small, friend of mankind, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings.
Regular Prayer to Dionysos
Dionysos, deep-hearted one who knows the souls of men and women, whose hand is ever open, ever within reach. Dionysos, god who runs in the dark, who sees with eyes shut tight, who dances to the heart’s strong beat, ever are you yourself, ever constant, ever changing god of those who are trapped, those who seek your truth and their own, those who seek vision beyond seeing, those who seek wisdom beyond knowledge, those who seek the self, pure and sweet, those who seek clarity beyond definition, who seek to embrace the uncertain, to hold, but loosely, to what is true beyond trust.
Regular prayer to Dionysos
I praise Dionysos, lord of the vine, lord of
the far reaches of the mind; in the thick of the woods, along darkened paths, in the shadows of dusk and of dawn, you roam the world, the satyrs and the pretty nymphs dancing in your wake. Son of Zeus and fair-haired Semele, bold-hearted Semele, who dared to look into the face of glory, beautiful Semele who you carried into life again, Semele reborn who men called Thyone; beloved of clever Ariadne, quick-witted one, so dear to your heart, your bright-eyed bride and consort; Dionysos, friend of women, friend of the blissful, wild-eyed maenads, pilgrims and pioneers, those who seek, your cheer and inspiration, those who seek your release, from sorrow and despair, those who are lost in joy, and those who have found themselves in you. Dionysos, god of the darkest dark and the deepest deep, boundless one, endless one, fathomless one, in you we see the edges of ourselves, in you, we find our life’s journey, in you we find our home.
To Dionysos
I call to Dionysos, great god of the vine,
son of thundering Zeus and headstrong Semele, loving husband of warm-hearted Ariadne. From the east you came, old before the ancients, throughout the elder world were you beloved; in Naxos and Boitia were you celebrated, in temples and in the savage wilderness, the fleet-footed maenads running in your wake. The sweetest, strongest wine is ever your drink; the mind’s release, the body’s loosening, your gift. O Dionysos; thyrsus-shaker, ivy-crowned god, we see you in the shadows, we see you on the edges, we see you in the haze of ecstasy, where we know the truth of passion, where we find
the essence of our being. Bacchus, I call to you!
| Sources & websites in comments. |
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Wayne’s trying his best to get the picture hung as straight as possible.
There are kids screaming at the yard, he can hear Hopper arguing with Jonathan from the backyard, something about the movers or something, Eddie’s in the kitchen trying to hang his mug collection in display, Dustin and Mike are trying to carry more boxes to the house and the others are scattered everywhere in the new house, trying to do their own thing to help him out.
There’s a box full of framed pictures just beside his legs. Wayne’s still trying to level the frames. He was never one for pictures, until Eddie came home to him.
The first framed picture, he remembers buying the frame from a dollar store. No glass, just a flimsy plastic and plastic frame. Eddie was 12 in the picture, teeth crooked, hair growing, with the acoustic guitar Wayne bought for him. It’s secondhand but, Wayne still had to work double time for it. Every minute of it was worth with how big Eddie’s smile on the picture was. He just finished learning his first song and just finished playing it for Wayne. It’s Stand By Me by Ben E. King.
There’s more in pictures taken, more pictures developed and slipped into an album he bought from Melvald’s. But the second picture to be framed was when he was 15. It’s a picture that would make any person stop and think, “Who would frame a picture like that?” Eddie’s 15 in the picture, curly hair long and frenzied, but the highlight is his beaten up face. He has a growing black eye, there’s is crusty blood on his nose and Eddie Munson is beaming. He got into a fight, his first fist fight, and Wayne shouldn’t have framed it. But it’s also the same day Eddie came out to Wayne and Wayne will forever keep it close to his heart.
The next picture framed is when he’s 18. It’s the day Eddie’s supposed to be graduating High School, but didn’t. Eddie thinks he hides it well, the stress and disappointment that he’s not graduating, hiding it in sarcasm and witty jokes but Wayne can see through him even blind. He takes him out for the day to Indiana, they walk around, going to stores Eddie would love and ending it in a diner. Wayne asks the waitress to take a picture of them. Eddie breaks down that night, telling Wayne he didn’t deserve this and that he should be more disappointed, more angry before shutting himself to his room. He wakes up the next morning with Wayne trying to hang another framed picture in the trailer, Wayne tells him, “School’s not everything. You’re a good person, Ed. That’ll always be the most important thing to me.”
The first three framed pictures and album full of pictures are gone, eaten by the four fault lines that swallowed Hawkins whole in 1986. Wayne doesn’t care, not really, not when his son was being chased down by the whole town. His kind, weird, loud Eddie, who doesn’t even want to hurt bugs or spiders, always opting with setting them free rather than squashing them.
Eddie comes out alive, and free at the end of it. Because beyond everything, beyond being kind, generous, loud, funny, Eddie has always been a fighter. Between fighting real life monsters, signing NDAs and recovering from literal feral bat bites, Eddie gains a family. It’s weirdly shape, contains an actual 15 year old with super powers, the Mayfield girl who rose from the dead, those two comes with a gaggle of children, Chief Hopper who also rose from the dead, Joyce Byers, the Buckley kid, the reporter, two potheads. It’s a weird family, and still the weirdest part is Steve Harrington. Harrington. Still it was a family, held together with tape, trauma and love.
Wayne’s not Steve’s biggest fan. Not until Wayne gets the full story of how Eddie survived, he doesn’t get it until three months later. Only because Eddie wasn’t ready to talk about it. Eddie tells him that it was all Steve. Steve who gave him CPR, wrapped his wounds properly and carried him out of the hell hole with his own injuries. Wayne was kinda mad at Eddie for not telling him immediately, especially because he’s been giving Harrington the stinky eye for three months now, when in truth Wayne is forever in debt with him.
Eddie’s also babble mouth who told Harrington that more than anything Wayne was devastated to learn that the “Upside Down” goo washed up all of the pictures. For his birthday, Wayne’s not even sure how he knows, Steve buys him a secondhand camera, an empty album and a stack of empty frames. That starts a tradition that spread all throughout the family. It somehow culminated to them taking pictures of Eddie, and when they think it’s special enough, they frame it and give it to Wayne. Eddie hates the tradition, because why do you guys keep framing my picture???
That’s how he ended up here, in his brand new house, the one Eddie bought for him just after his second successful tour, with a big box full of pictures.
Wayne backs up from the wall full of frames, it’s accumulated so many different pictures now, now it’s not just Eddie. Now, it’s a burst of different pictures. Somewhere in the left, you will find the framed picture of when Eddie finally graduated, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan beside him with the same graduation gown. Beside it is a picture of the Party in their own graduation, beside it is a big collage frame with a picture of each kid when they also finally graduate college, there’s a picture of all of them when Joyce and Hop finally got married, a picture of when Robin, Steve and Nancy all graduated college, all separately. Pictures of weddings, and birthdays, and kids from the kids who he watched grow up, who now call him Grandpa Wayne.
Eddie’s pictures are still there, Eddie will always be there. Eddie in his first apartment, Eddie and his band when they first open a concert, Eddie signing his first contract, Eddie on his first radio interview, Eddie and his band on their first magazine cover. Just Eddie, living his dream.
“I think that one’s a little crooked.” A voice tells him. He turns to see Steve, a little older now, hair shorter, glasses thicker, a hearing aid always on his ear.
“Which one?” Steve points at the large picture. It’s a little bigger than the other frames.
Wayne smiles, moving closer to adjust the picture. In the picture, it’s with Steve and Eddie, both in their tuxes, Wayne in the middle as Eddie’s arms is hooked around Wayne’s shoulders and as Steve is laughing at something Eddie has said. Wayne’s just smiling at the two of them, the sun bright, brand new rings sparkling in the sun.
When satisfied, he moves back just as Eddie enters the room, a box in his hand, “I got you some new pictures.” He gives Steve a knowing smile, as Wayne accepts the box.
“I don’t remember the pictures very well, but I tried my best to describe them to Will.” Wayne’s hand flies to his mouth as he sees the framed pictures. They’re drawings, and they’re not the exact same, but it looks so similar to the pictures he lost in the earthquake, the pictures he long accepted he’ll never see again. It’s Eddie as a kid again, and it’s enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“This isn’t fair, Ed. You can’t just make me cry.” Eddie laughs as he gives his uncle a hug, a whisper of thank you’s exchanged.
They watch as Wayne hammers a new nail on the wall, placing it just beside the picture of Wayne standing beside Eddie as he holds his first award.
He straightens the pictures.
Takes a step back to look at it all.
Some of the frames fraying from the age, some pictures fading on the edges, some of it are crooked.
All of it filled with pictures, radiating a life lived with joy and happiness.
It’s perfect.
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YBF Peter x reader who successfully escapes? preferably by train for more suspense. like peter is just watch reader get in the train right as it takes off, and he’s so mad but like he looks heartbroken and reader is just happy to be away, but even WORSE, reader runs away with another lover? and maybe that lover is on the train too?
( going back to your touch of glass fanfic, maybe that character is Alastor :0 )
i love you so much for this, MWUAH. But seriously Peter would be LIVID.
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior! Yandere! Mentions of harm! Implications of sexual themes! Mentions of money struggles! Abuse!
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝙉𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 HH & YBFੈ✩‧₊˚ * Part two is here!
songs you can play while listening: Kill Bill Remix with SZA & Doja Cat. At my Weakest by James Arthur. Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo. Nobody by Mitski. Cold Shoulder by Adele. Mind by MillSoundBeatz. Creep by Radiohead. Me and your mama by Childish Gambino.
𝑺𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔
It had started off simple enough. Peter was always having problems with his central air in his apartment. So, the súper of his complex would come to fix it. That’s where Husk came in.
Peter, at first, would wait around watching you while Husk did what he needed to do. Going over prices with Peter, checking the vents in each room, doing his usual checkup on the apartment. Husk didn’t speak much, hardly ever. He didn’t even bat an eye to Y/n. Or so she thought. Because of this, Peter didn’t see Husk as a threat, mainly because he wasn’t. But his employer was.
Alastor was the owner of the complex, running things after his mother had signed all the rights of the property over to him. With his growing fame he was able to keep it nice. Every once in a while he liked taking a walk around the property. This is how he meets you. Husk informs Alastor he needs to fix Peters central air again, and Alastor insists on going. With a few phone calls, Peter tells Husk you’ll be at the apartment to let him in, Peters out for the day.
Alastor walks into the apartment and immediately he finds you, sitting quietly while showing Husk the problem. But he can feel it, somethings off, somethings wrong here. So he goes snooping, and what does he find?
Dirtied clothes, blood on the bedsheets, he can see bruises from where your clothes don’t cover, and he puts the pieces together. You’re being abused, simple as that. Now, Alastor can’t really evict Peter, he pays his rent on time, and aside from the central air unit going down more than he’d like, it’s not uncommon. So, he decides to try speaking with you.
Then you break, you begin sobbing the moment Alastor asks if you’re okay. Husk moves to lock the front door of the apartment while you whisper to Alastor everything goin on, all in a frenzy. Your panicking, scared. Alastor feels bad, or as bad as he can feel for you.
So he comes up with a plan. He sits with you, and he has Husk break other things around the apartment, not too urgent but enough to catch attention of the damage, this way Husk and Alastor have a reason to keep coming back.
“Here’s what we’re going to do” Alastor says, sitting you down. You nod listening intently. “Why don’t I get you a train ticket, wherever you want. You’ll need to take multiple trains though, this way he doesn’t find you.” Alastor says, looking around the apartment a second. “ I’ll go with you, and we can get you settled somewhere else. New name, new life. How does that work for you?” He asks, and you nod your head.
“Anything is better than here. Please just get me out.” You beg, and Alastor nods.
“Play nice for a month. I’ll work out the details, and I’ll come back with Husk for repairs.” Alastor says as he nods to Husk, who nods back. “In the meantime, try gaining his trust. We’ll schedule a day where we need to repair, one where Peter isn’t here. You’ll gather your things, or whatever you can take, and we’ll leave.” Alastor says and you nod, desperate. Finally, finally someone helps.
The month feels long. Having to cuddle with Peter, having to reassure him you love him. That you would never leave him, that he’s your world. It made you want to throw up inside, but at least his trust was growing.
Sometimes you’d cry to him to sell the act, telling him you just wanted to be happy together, that you wanted a family with him. That you loved him more than anything. Then, the day finally came.
“The super is coming to fix the loose pipe under the sink, I have to go out and run a few errands, so I need you to make food for when I get back.” He says, giving you a kiss goodbye before leaving. You wait a while, maybe thirty minutes before Husk and Alastor show up. Husk gets to work on the pipe while Alastor helps take your things to his car. Alastor had used Peters laptop to make sure the train was leaving on time, before the two of you got in his car leaving.
Husk had waited outside the apartment, watching Peter walk in from his hiding spot. From outside, things could be heard thrown around.
“Y/n? What happened to the food?” Peter asks, walking around the apartment. He checks the bathroom, you aren’t there. Bedroom, you aren’t there. He’s starting to panic. Did he get too careless? Maybe you just stepped out, you’ll be back right?
Until he hears a beep from his laptop. It’s dying. He checks the screen, seeing several tabs open. The train time is up on the screen, and he’s silent for a minute. All he can think is how dare you, how could you do this to him? Maybe your testing him, testing his love. Testing to see how far he’d go for you. He grabs his keys off the counter and dashes out the door. He’s going to get you. He has thirty minutes left. It’s three fifty nine, meaning the train should leave around four thirty. Its a fifteen minute drive from his apartment to the train station, if he speeds up it can get to ten.
Husk calls Alastor in a panic, the two of you just passing through metal detectors.
“Hello?” Alastor asks as he begins to fix his watch back onto his wrist.
“He just left the apartment. He’s pissed.” Husk said, slight worry in his voice. Alastor looks over you while you fix your shoes, not noticing a thing.
“We’ll be fine. The train leaves soon and it’s a line before we get on. He can’t get us there.” Alastor says calmly, not wanting to scare you.
The two of you go through security fine and are at the end of the line. Gates begin to close, and it’s only when you hear shouting that you get nervous. Alastor is allowed on the train before you, considering you had more things. But, in the distance, you hear frantic shouting and things crashing. You turn around and there’s Peter, running like a mad man through security, calling your name.
“Miss do you know him?” The worker asks you and you shake your head. Quickly, the train begins to move, and you panick as your things are finally locked on. You had taken too long to get on. Now running down the station you get close enough to the stairs to jump, ticket still in hand. The cart rattles a bit and the door opens. Alastor looks confused, but embraces you nonetheless.
“He found me.” You said, turning around. Peter stands at the station as you get further from him. He looks defeated, hopeless. Angry, hurt. He stares at you mouth agape, unsure what to do. His eyes aren’t on you only though, no, he’s glaring at Alastor. His arm around your waist, and the way he ushers you into the cart with a tender kiss on your cheek. He’s livid.
This isn’t the end, Peter thinks. Not for a long shot.
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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭—𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞
A love letter from your current lover
18+ readings
YouTube | Masterlist
Tips | Paid Readings
Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.
Pics | Divider
————❤️————
Pile 1:
The moon
When the moon shines beneath us as we stargaze and think of us,
My heart starts to become frenzy as one must say,
My eye shifts to your gaze only missing it by a breeze—surely you must be aware of how awe I am of you.
Or perhaps we are still playing the I don’t know game,
Where we both act like we don’t love each other the same, though I doubt I’m the crazy one..
I look into your eyes, and I see the same love, passion, and lust for me as I do with you,
Surely you must admit you love me first—
You do know, how shy of a person, I can be, so please..
Be the first.
I do love you so, I am just a shy lover..
My dear.
Pile 2:
The sun
A breeze in the midst of the air, the beautiful and bright sun shining onto your glorious beauty, for I am sucker, for you my dearest.
The way the sun says hello on the beautiful day, or when we ride down on our motor gears, the small smile you hide within the stoic expression,
You must think of me as a fool, that I cannot see the beautiful smile, but you, my love is mistaken.
Do not hide it from me anymore, show it to me, it is not a sign of weakness, as it shows true bravery and vulnerability..
Oh.. how lovely that is.. to see the real you beneath me and in my arms, as I caress your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ears.. as you drift off into a restful slumber..
Oh.. how I wish, I could be with you all of the time as the sun is during the day.. and when the moon comes upon us, we are off to sleep.. missing one another in our soft slumber..
But do not fret, I shall be with you in every step of the way, as for I am, a hopeless romantic and have helplessly fallen in love with you.
Pile 3:
Running in the woods
When one runs in the woods, it is often a sign of danger and despair, but with you, it is not.
I imagine us running in a beautiful field, tailoring us into the misty woods upon us as I hold your hand and caress it, soothing the fear out of you and cooing you to show that it is safe..
As you believe me and we run inside, only to be fascinated by the beauty of it..
A magical picnic I made out of love for the both of us..
A lovely river, with swans moving into a heart shape to symbolize our love,
The wind breezing on us gently to show my gratitude to you as I cannot get mad at someone as lovely as you,
The food being freshly cooked and lay out in an organized fashion to explain that ill do anything for you,
And lastly, the smile on my lips as my cheeks are tinted with the roses I give you..
My love for you is stronger than gravity itself.. it is stronger than the earth itself..
It is something one cannot describe, as I couldn’t describe it even if this picnic happened itself.
Pile 4:
The stars
When we look upon the stars, we often make wishes hoping it comes true,
When I was going through hardship, and I was begging for someone or something to make me feel whole once more,
I begged the stars and begged for all the nights I cried, and I surely lost hope, until we met, and I cried.. though you did not see those tears.. I did cry.
I knew from the moment we crossed paths that my wish came true as you’re the wish I wanted, the wish I cried for and hopelessly begged for..
That someone, something, even the stars made it come true.
The amount of gratitude in my eyes for you, you surely would not believe it as I’m not best expressing my words, but
That doesn’t mean, all is lost, I want to show you, I love you with all my deepest heart, but every time I do, I fail miserably..
My heart has grown because of you, you have shown me, what it truly is like, to love,
As I use to be quite emotionless, and never really found anything to feel emotion for, but you are the different story people wish for you,
You are my savior and I hope you know, you dig out of a hole, I once wanted to be buried into.
You saved me from my death, the one that felt so warm yet was so cold,
You breezed me away from hopelessness and despair, surely you must understand what a blessing you have been,
As I cannot go any longer with you, I wanted to know if one day you will be mine?
Though I know we are dating, surely that is a fact, but I was thinking, a ring instead?
Would you do me the honor of saying yes when I do, for I shall be the luckiest of them all.
Pile 5:
Empty stars
Stars are so hollow and lonely; they shine brightly for us.. for you and me..
But as the night falls and the sun comes above and forms its protective gear,
The both of us become hollow,
No more sparks are between us as we once were when we met, but, I think to myself,
Perhaps you’re better off with a shooting star and nowt a hollow star like me,
Perhaps you want a blazing star and not a distant star like me,
Maybe as time went on, my stars for you decreased as your affections disappeared..
Times are lonely as we are no longer the stars we once were..
The emptiness inside is truly a decaying feeling of despair,
I hope one day we can mingle as we once were on our anniversary,
But I have lost hope on who we were once more..
No more stars, and surely enough—no more love as it once.. were.
This is my goodbye to you as you have lost the touch of my heart once more, as this is my goodbye, my dear one, there is no more.. love between…, us.. no more.
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DP x DC Prompt - Zombie Jason
Jason didn’t know when it started, but when his left hand detached from his wrist the first time, it was safe to say he freaked out. What was worse was the patches of bruised skin slowly turning a rotting green.
It was chilling to look at, so he started wearing fingerless gloves that stretched beyond his wrists and covered enough of his hands to hide the decaying skin and flesh.
Perhaps the term “zombie” fit more than he thought. To add on, there was this pit in his stomach (not the pit madness, it had started to fade when his limbs started detaching, and was certainly silent now) that food never seemed to fill.
Deep down he was anxious that the hunger was for brains, but he knew that was just absurd.
He soon discovered he could completely remove his head, unscrewing it like a bottle cap on those cheap plastic water bottles.
Jason was starting to lose focus on the world around him, almost never during his vigilante work, but during everyday tasks. One time he was helping fix the bikes in the cave, replacing the worn down tires, when he spaced out. When Jason blinked, he was just sitting down at the dinner table, those already seated watching him carefully.
It made him feel sick, and he theorized he was dying again. So he started recording himself on tapes, logging how he was doing and the progress of the decay.
He started searching for a cure, something to hold him together.
He got more and more frenzied as the weeks flew by, similar to Tim on his sixth cup of daily coffee.
Jason started gathering things he owned, small trinkets and little gifts that he subtly placed around the manor. Alfred noticed the things first, seemingly oblivious to who was leaving them (he most definitely knew).
It hurt, but the gift giving made him happy, the rot wasn’t spreading as quickly if at all anymore! Jason was overjoyed. Spending time with his siblings made him feel all fuzzy inside, like someone took a phone and placed the vibration feature in the center his chest.
It wasn’t long before the rotting started to get worse again. Jason got into a fight with Bruce, he didn’t remember what it was about anymore, something about tests or reports on himself and his patrols around Crime Alley.
He threw his hand out to the side, a wide gesture of some kind when he felt the telltale sign of his left hand detaching from his wrist. The wretched squelching noise of the flesh tearing and the ‘schlop’ of the hand hitting the ground, splattering the cave floor with rusty reddish-brown blood. The birds and bats stared at the stump as Jason rushed to snatch up his hand, practically twisted the thing back in place.
Confessing that he believed he was dying again was the hardest thing in that moment. Jason told Bruce to fuck off, albeit wetly as his emotions refused to take a hike.
He left and the rest of the batfam begin researching relentlessly for some sort of cure. Dick, heartbroken over the ordeal, contacts Constantine.
“You need help with what?” The British magician dropped the cigarette he was twirling around his fingers to stare at Nightwing, Batman, Red Robin, and Red Hood. The last of the four standing off to the side, saying that he’ll be fine and he didn’t need magical medical help.
“Red Hood is starting to develop a skin condition where it appears he’s legitimately becoming a zombie, we need help finding some sort of medicine for him.” Nightwing states, stress pulling at his face.
John hums before turning to the man in question, “Take off your helmet.”
He was met with the sight of Jason’s face, but green patches covered his neck and jaw but no higher.
“Bloody hell…” Constantine muttered before reaching into his trench coat and pulling out a vial of Lazarus Water about the size of his pinky finger. “Do you know what this is?”
“Pit Water..?” Jason trailed off, the higher pitch at the end of his sentence making it sound like a question.
“Yes and no.” Constantine drawled, “This is purified ectoplasm, it’s been cleaned of any imprint or claim. It comes from the Infinite Realms.”
Batman grunted in a reply. “Hn.”
John rolled his eyes, “If I’m right, your decaying body should fix itself if you consume purified ectoplasm every week or so. If I’m wrong, the ectoplasm I have will not appeal to you and I’ll need to do some more digging.” Constantine’s attempt at being chipper fell short as he uncorked the vial and handed it over to Jason.
He stared at it, blankly looking at the shimmering, slightly metallic-looking liquid.
“We’ll go ahead, sniff it.” Constantine arched a brow that expressed he didn’t have time for this. “Drink it if it smells appealin- DON’T SWALLOW THE WHOLE BLOODY GLASS VIAL!!”
Jason had promptly done what he was told. To piss him off he just ate the whole thing - it wasn’t that but of a vial anyways - after a few moments he felt less brittle and fragile. He stuck his tongue out childishly. Snickering to himself silently.
Yeah. He could get used to the absence of the- hoLY FUCK WAS HE SINKING INTO THE CAVE FLOOR?!
——————————
I’m kinda brain-dead right now, I’ve dropped a pre-written Christmas themed fic to shift my attention to Project GH05T.
Here’s a blurb of Zombie Jason needing ectoplasm in order to keep himself from falling apart - literally.
Good night y’all. I wrote a majority of this in my study hall. 💀
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XOXO, YOUR BIGGEST FAN
As per the results for my vote, here it is! But I never said it wasn't going to be angst~~~
Please leave a comment! It'll gimme motivation to score well in my exams swear UwU
I saw you and I just knew, one day you'd be my man. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his suave talent on the screen, for the thefts of more than hundreds of drama fans’ hearts everywhere, for his signature shark grin and trademark tattoos.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his lead role in the fantasy series Malevolent Shrine, directed by his half brother Kamo Choso, together with the uprising star Gojo Satoru.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for the tragedy that ruined his life forever and kidnapped him within its dark, depressive grasp to never let him go and completely vanish from the public eye.
I'd kill for you, over and over, I will and could and can. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna’s name was once known to cause crazed stampedes at any store, restaurant or mall he blessed with his presence, but now when he walked hunched and slumped into his stained sweatshirt barely anybody batted an eye at the man who was more dead than alive now.
Ryomen Sukuna's figure was formerly spotted immediately everywhere he went, especially with YOU, his dearest darling angel at his side, a magnet attracting eager, frenzied paparazzi and die hard fans. He couldn't have been more proud to show you in all your glory off to the crowd, to lay claim on you and just prove his undying love for you in front of everyone…once upon a time.
Ryomen Sukuna's expression of easy, lazy smirking from his acting days officially disappeared to be replaced by a face with an emptiness that rivaled the void and had completely forgotten any other emotion long before everyone saw the photo at his final interview on a subject he had no wish to talk about: you and your death.
I know she's hurting us, but don't worry, I've got a plan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna whose answer to the Jujutsu Tech Weekly’s question of what he regretted most was turning down directors Jogo and Hanami’s offer to collaborate in a movie together, but really? He regretted ever convincing you to stop hiding your secret marriage and step into the limelight with him.
Ryomen Sukuna who can boast about his natural acting talent, charisma and success with all the proof in the world to back it up, but he would never say he was one for observance, not after he missed all the signs of an obsessive, insane stalker tailing after him and his precious, pretty wife.
Ryomen Sukuna who wonders what would've happened if he had just BOTHERED to reply and open the thousands of fan letters he used to get - would he have seen the letters his so-called number one fan had sent him, seen the signs of a despairing delusional madness that drove her to start hunting them both down from the shadows? Would he have paid more attention to the way doors seemed to always be unlocked when the both of you headed home, the missing personal items, the defaced pictures online of his wife?
As they all like to say, into the fire from out of the pan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna's temper his frequent viewers, family and friends were more than familiar with that made itself known when he publicly threatened whoever was breaking and entering into your shared home with something more physical than lawsuits; but how was he to know she'd take it the wrong way and somehow convince herself that his wife was putting him up to it, to make his one and only out to be the villain of this imaginary love scenario between her and him, to declare herself his “saviour”?
Ryomen Sukuna's decision to move to a new, more private and secure manor by the coast was supposed to protect you from the strange unknown figure lurking outside the house and everywhere you went. Supposed to. Somehow they found out his new home address anyway, and the only one who knew it was Choso, who swore up and down he told nobody and nobody could have possibly known.
Ryomen Sukuna's management (namely, his irritated manager Kenjaku) who finally succumbed to his harsh insults and furious demands and investigated who's been following them around lately: the truth shocked everyone to the core (could it possibly EVEN be the truth?!) when Fushiguro Tsumiki was arrested.
She might bear your son but you and I will start a clan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna ignored all the warning signs, the final letter with the ominous words of “I'll be the one to teach you love” and the Fushiguro’s protests of her innocence in favour of announcing the big news to the press and celebrating the new beginning in his and yours romance story, this time with a new addition to the family.
Ryomen Sukuna rarely slept before, preferring to stay up late memorising lines and terrorising the crew, but now was just operating on caffeine and quick naps in his worry during your pregnancy. Did he cry when baby Yuuji was born? Yes, and in his delight - although he pretended otherwise - he never noticed that one guest at every one of his conventions with an agitated expression and a hysterical, hateful grudge against you.
Ryomen Sukuna thought the business with his crazy fan stopped when he had his loyal Uraume taking care of his family on the rare occasions you didn't insist on coming to watch him work and hired a secretary to go through and filter all his letters, or maybe he was just preoccupied with watching Yuuji grow up and showering you with all the love his rough, rugged self could give…because he certainly didn't notice the new “security cameras” being set up at his house.
What a fatal mistake.
We'll be alone eventually, a couple and no longer a ban. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who staggered back and nearly killed the messenger when he heard the news, who raged internally against whatever cruel god had decided to deal him this fate: you and Yuuji had somehow disappeared when driving back from the park and even though police searched high and low you both were nowhere to be found.
Ryomen Sukuna whose world shattered when the two most important people in the world to him were declared dead. Despite Choso’s frantic persuausion and attempted comforts he vowed to never return to the world of stardom, not after his celebrity status got you both killed. He disappeared into the sea of ordinary lives, all signs of vibrancy and life gone right down to his iconic pink hair; he dyed that black, black as his heart and as black as the sky the day his darling went away, the day the letter arrived.
Ryomen Sukuna who imagined the police might make your deaths more real and not so nightmarish when they found your body, but never this way - what sort of sick bitch would send him a parcel containing the severed fingers of you ans Yuuji with a heart signed “Always your girl, Yorozu.”
I'm yours, you're mine, your wife's gone, just say she ran. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who now wanders the world, alive but alone, so ready to once love what he had had. A fate crueler than him has revealed itself, for they never did catch whoever had done the deed. The last time anyone had ever seen Sukuna at all was at the trial where Tsumiki was released.
Ryomen Sukuna who's played his fair share in horror movie of twisted endings and gruesome grief, but nobody ever told him real life was inspiration for the dark content. Everybody's long forgotten him as he slid into the role of background cameos but he never forgot how even with his fame and money he could never save you and Yuuji, much less avenge you both.
Ryomen Sukuna's half assed attempts at suicide never seemed to work out and he's nothing more than an angry shell of his former glory now. He even tore down both your photos in a fit of rage once; the man in the mirror wasn't him, surely?
They hunted in my basement but never searched my van. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who is now known for his infamous brutal homicide of one Fujiwara Yorozu with his bare, bloody hands who approached him at a shady bar and whispered she had done away with the devil, won't he ascend to Heaven with her now?
“FXXK YOU, I'D RATHER FALL TO HELL WITH HER THAN BE DRAGGED TO ‘HEAVEN’ BY THE LIKES OF YOU!”
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complete random thought that i wanted to share, neteyam 100% likes em a little insane. hot girls are always borderline unstable, serving jennifer’s body vibes but in a non murderous way 🥰🫶🏻
NOOO 10000%. And it kinda turns him on when you’re riled up ngl… 😗 loll the way i identify w this so much bc i literally have anger issues, someone get me a teyam STAT!!
contains: language, hinting towards events!
Neteyam sat on a stool in the corner of your shared hut, head tilted while his eyes trailed you angrily pacing back and forth through the hut, with an agenda you wouldn’t let him on.
“Baby-“ He reached out for your arm as you whisked past him and to the other side of the room, sighing to himself when you yanked it away before he could grab onto it. “Baby. Please calm down, you’re scaring me.” He chuckled nervously, gulping as you picked your bow up from the ground.
“That bitch is gonna be real scared of me when I’m done with her ass.” You laughed dryly, so involved in what you were doing that you didn’t notice him shoot up from where he was and stand to his feet at your threat.
“So what, you’re going to shoot her with an arrow because she said she doesn’t like me?” He guffawed, hands on his hips.
“No, did you see me grab any arrows? I’m going to use the wood of my bow to beat the living shit-“
He was in front of you in one long stride, his strong hands holding your biceps in place so you couldn’t move away from him. Moving his head with yours everytime you tried to look around his body. “My love, It’s okay.” He spoke slowly, dragging the last part of the word out for emphasis while he looked into your avoidant stare. “Why don’t we just take a second to calm down, hm?” He suggested, rubbing his large hands up and down the smooth skin of your arms.
You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to protest, but your breath catching in your throat when his hands fell to your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Why don’t you let me… calm you down, yeah?” A smug smile spread across his face at his own suggestion, it only growing wider when your eyes locked on his for the first time during this whole ordeal. Clearly indicating that you were interested in what he had to offer.
You unknowingly dropped your bow to the ground, no longer interested in your previous mission. Gazing up at him intently with big eyes and he immediately sensed your demeanor change, taking that as a sign to continue.
“Yeah, you’d like that huh?” He nodded, hands falling to grip lower and palm at the soft flesh below your waist. Sending your mind into a frenzy as you leaned into him and instinctively slid your arms around his neck.
He hummed at your dazed expression when his fingers walked inwards toward the center of your loincloth. Quickly lowering himself and hooking his hands under your thighs to hoist you up into his hold before things could go any further.
You bit back a quiet moan when his soft lips found the sweet spot on your neck, legs winding around his torso as he carried you into the other room, away from the door. Dedicated on making you forget what you were even mad about in the first place.
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Okay but the emphasis on Ada being axed in the abdomen specifically?
My current headcanon fer her death is that Ada was a maid who had an affair with a rich man she worked fer and fell horrendously in love with this man who likely just saw her as a pretty toy to enjoy on the side. At one point, Richboy tries to break if off with her, and Ada persists because she so wholly believes what they have is real and special meanwhile Richboy is just tryna get rid of her before this scandal gets out to the public.
tw: woah this angst got a little dark and lowkey spiraled into a minific
Ada follows her ‘lover’ into the woods where he she knows he likes to chop wood to destress, and when she finds him she starts begging him to take her back because they’re oh so in love you can’t you see? He tries to push her away, but Ada screams out, “You, you can’t leave me!”
“Ada, for the last time, leave me alone-“
“I’M WITH CHILD! IT’S YOURS!”
A stray wind rustles fallen foliage in the distance, the silence that has befallen the pair so heavy that the man could faintly count each individual leaf. Even as he stands stunned and speechless outwardly, from within a thunderous hammering of his heart begins to stir.
“… what?”
“I am going to bear your child! Please, can’t you see? You can’t leave me now!”
Shaking his head, the drumbeat man’s heart continues to bang against his eardrums louder and louder. It’s as if the bloodied thing was trying to break out of his ribcage and run away shrieking.
“No, n-no it can not be.”
“It can, it can,” wide green eyes stare up at him with a frenzied gleam, the maid’s broad smile stretching across her features like a slash, “It’s yours, you know I would never touch another.”
Ada steps forward, clinging onto the arm of her one and only. The man tries to take a step back and dodge her hands, but it’s already too late, the maid’s fingers frantically dig deep into the flesh of his arm and pull him close.
“Ada- Ada st-stop, stop touching me-“
“This is fate!” She crows desperately, completely ignoring his plea, her grip tightening on the man who gave her light.
“A-Ada! Let go!”
“No, I can’t! This child is a sign of our lov- AAAARRGHHHHH!”
Her backside slams onto the forest floor beneath her, but the bruises that shall surely form on her back holds not even a candlelight to the wretched, searing pain races from her stomach. Ada’s shaky hands reach up and-
Oh.
Oh, she’s bleeding.
Above her, the love of her life breathes unevenly, the axe clutched in his fist stained with a cruel, cruel crimson.
The immense pain rushing from her stomach is nearly enough to rob her of words completely, yet even this physical anguish can not hold back the aching in her betrayed soul.
“B-but,” she barely chokes out, hot tears streaming from her eyes, “But why?”
“Because you gave me no choice.”
Pov Ada is crumpled on the forest floor bleeding out and STILL girly doesn’t even try to get up and call for help.
The man above her runs his free hand through his hair, disbelief and desperation laced in his every movement. His voice, once so strong and sure, now tremors as the realization of what he has done settles deep into the marrow of his bones.
“Do you understand now, you worthless fool? Do you understand?”
Ada can only shake her head. Even now, even here where she is very nearly nothing but a corpse to feed the maggots that reside in the dirt beneath her, Ada refuses to believe that this man she has devoted her whole being truly doesn’t feel the same.
“You, you didn’t mean to,” the man bellows in frustration, but Ada continues to push on with a watery smile, “It was just a mistake, I-I made you mad, and you acted out. It’s- it’s alright, I forgive you. I, I still love y-“
“NO!”
Pov when Richboy realizes that nothing he’ll do or say can make Ada stay away from him he ends up chopping her to pieces and hiding her body in the swamp where other animals have long since become carcasses, her shrieks of agony a quick yet haunting melody that echoes against the silent trees forced to witness such a brutal end to life.
Andddd THAT’S how I headcanon why Ada’s spectre form is a screaming banshee with cut up limbs stained in dirt and decorated in forest animal skeletons :DD
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How funny would it be if there were rumors around the Cross Guild that Someone Is A Vampire.
Someone visiting for one thing or another catches a glimpse of a person in the dead if night sneaking our of the medical tent with a bag of blood. There are no alarms going off, no sign of their presence beyond a brief moment of Sighting Them, a soft growl, and then the person vanishing into the darkness.
The rumors spread across the Seas. Cross Guild has a Vampire. It's embellished and it grows more and more as the story is told. Eventually someone asks a member if the Guild, "do you have a vampire?" And the mercenary hesitates, pales slightly. "... He is more than that." That's all he'll say on the matter. The way he reacted, the way he seemed almost afraid, it makes people think and wonder.
A Vampire! And in this marine hunting organization? To be so powerful, he must be very strong! In a ... a position of power....
They look at the posters.
Mihawk is the first to be suspected. He hits almost every cliche. Pale? Goth? Drinks "red wine" all the time? Weird? Piercing eyes? Never smiles? Oh Absolutely It All Makes Sense.
There are some who suspect Crocodile. He has that Vibe, they say, ya know the one. It wouldn't be surprising, that's all they're saying.
Meanwhile nobody looks twice at the clown. He's an Emperor, some think idly, if he were a vampire, the world would know by now.
Shanks is giggling, twirling his hair, kicking his feet across the grandline at this point bc He Knows The Truth.
Buggy is a paramecia type devil fruit user - it effects the body and it's derived from the abilities of a Devil. Typically, they are considered the weaker forms of Devil Fruits bc they rarely awaken or offer further abilities. Buggy is, was, and always will be a special case.
To any knowledge, Buggy is the last of his kind. Crocus had his work cut out for him when trying to get a baseline for Buggy's health when he joined if only because so many things were Off or outright Not There or There When There Shouldn't Be. It was impossible to tell what was Devil Fruit vs Biology. So when Buggy began getting sick, losing weight, growing lethargic, it was a frenzy to find answers.
The solution presented itself in typical Whoopsies How Did That Happen fashion - Shanks got so mad about not being able to help, being scared for his best friend, his Buggy, that he punched a wall - tore his knuckles up. He hissed, shook his hand out, hopping around because ow ow ow fuck shit ow-
And then Buggy was staring.
Shanks, more distracted by Buggy being AWAKE, simply lunged for his friend, and was a little surprised when Buggy didn't push him away or hiss or scream - just took his hand, staring. "Oh," he chuckled awkwardly. "Don't mind that, just me being an idiot, ahah... hah... b-bugs?"
Buggy licks his hand.
Shanks is perturbed.
Crocus runs a few more experiments.
Okay yeah Buggy's a vampire. Cool. Good to know. Why? Not sure, but damn if it isn't something, huh?
Anyway, Cross Guild but the two goths have vampire allegations thrown their way every day, meanwhile their ACTUAL vampire boyfriend is loudly complaining that his polka dot thigh high are missing, oh where is his green scrunchy, honey have you seen his hot pink shorts or his rainbow glitter eyeshadow palette-?
This is hilarious and probably the best thing I've seen today I-- I love this. But ngl, I find this so good for so many Shuggy/Cross Guild concepts with Buggy as a vampire and drinking their blood 🙏🏻 Let them make out because the other three are extremely fucked in the head. It'd be great if Buggy treated being a Vampire so casually while the three of them are down bad for him drinking their blood or smth.
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Aberrant Fish
The first hint many an angler will get of the dark, insidious secrets these waters hold,
and yet, they are the first thing to be accepted as only another flavor of mundane.
The game text calls them grotesque. The fishmonger calls them corrupted. You get to call them a bonus. Rather than fear and revile them, tradesmen will pay a shiny extra penny to add them into their stock. They are gestured to and spoken of, but never truly elaborated on by the townsfolk. They have probably been here long before most of them, and so will be here long after they are gone. They were certainly here before you. Maybe you don’t need their answers, and yet if you are like me, you still witlessly question and keep dredging for more.
Like many things pulled from those cursed depths, they whisper flecks of madness from an impossible voice. What messages do they carry, and what forces do they play vessel to? Are they the lingering embers from a long-extinguished calamity, or are they harbingers of the next one to come?
I believe we have already seen signs of fire with our own eyes- impossible, great beasts that prowl the four (now five) coasts, the dying cult, gibbering fog…. That damned book. These tortured creatures are but another form of the same smoke.
To the question of where they came from, if your fisherman pokes around enough and braves the darkness, he may have already found a response in one of the many obelisks scattered around the map. Specifically, I refer to this.
This would suggest the aberrants themselves are what leaked in through the cracks that the largest of all monsters wants to rend apart? Not entirely, but in part. For the researcher at the Stellar Basin came to her own conclusion I want to factor in.
Her words give credence to the possibility that it is actually those greater beasts themselves at the heart of the corruption. I think she was half onto something, because what if these twisted forms, both large and small, were blooms along the same set of festering roots?
The more dark stones you disturb in the frenzy of your own madness, the more you learn about the age before your arrival, about the islands, and especially about their current guardians. The Mindsuckers- carrion puppet masters given a home, the Basin creature- a spore that miraculously survived its dive to the abyss, and the Serpent- lifeless stone made animate and malicious, all had their creation remembered in great detail by the obelisks. Some hints point that their emergence was rather recent, relative to even more powerful beings, such as the leviathan.
Maybe there are even more unseen horrors far below, blessedly out of our reach, for now. My view is that the malformed beasts are the aimless children of that unfathomable thing which waits beyond the veil. With them came its influence, and its corruption, and from them it continues to spread to all life surrounding. The smaller rifts were always a transformative disease upon the harbor’s fish, but with the rise of the new monsters, the sickness runs farther and less avoidably than ever. Whether these aberrant spawn are a gift to the worthy, or another deceptive evil that leads to madness remains left to be seen.
I will be giving a spotlight to each of these fascinating specimens at the back of Dredge’s encyclopedia, including those found in the Pale Reach, for further comment and appreciation. Updating the list below as we go along!
[#79-84]
[#85-90]
[#91-96]
[#97-102]
[#103-108]
[#109-114]
[#115-120]
[#121-126]
[#127-132]
[#133-138]
[#139-144]
[#145-150]
[#163-168]
[#169-174]
[Bonus I. Night Angler]
[Bonus II. Serpent]
[Bonus III. Basin Creature]
[Bonus IV. Mindsuckers]
[Bonus V. Unseeing Mother]
[Bonus VI. “Narwhal”]
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i'm sorry if this is rather redundant but what does task for 141 think of the engel herself? we know soap told her to stay away from könig before almost getting shanked by him but what do they all think of this abolutely batshit insane girl? also that lil tidbit of ghost clearing his throat after seeing engel wear her pretty dresses??? 👀
Ok so the thing is other operators fear König and have come to the conclusion that this man is insane. Some even think König shouldn’t be allowed to work in a field like this – actually, he shouldn’t be walking freely at all! They fear his impulsiveness and bloodlust and dread the day this guy fucks up a mission in his battle frenzy.
So if they fear König and consider him a lunatic… they would surely view a girl who wants to be with him mentally unstable as well 🫠
Their first reaction might be pity and concern: how did this guy pull such a sweet and kind girl in the first place? Is she alright, should someone do something? Should someone... save her...? (No one would have the courage I'm afraid)
But when they see how König is around her (flaunting his knives and acting like a proud gorilla full of testosterone) and see how the "sweet kind girl" is around König (smiling, at ease and flirty), they are slightly horrified. When they see she’s not a victim but actively pursues König’s company and admires him, they're kinda like, "Oookay then..." It appears this damsel doesn’t need saving because clearly, she isn’t in distress!
Also. König is so possessive and territorial he wants to leave no doubts as to who this woman belongs to. He holds her hand all the time when they’re together, going on those walks for example, and if somebody sees them he will automatically tighten his grip and pull her closer. Anytime she visits him König makes sure everyone hears them. People try to avoid paying attention to it but cannot help but hear how reader gets loved very profoundly in this gunman’s room. “You look tired,” and “Yeah I couldn't get any sleep last night I wonder how come” would become a dry joke around the barracks soon.
And yeah, reader walking around in those pretty dresses certainly attracts attention! She's practically glowing. It only adds to everyone's bitterness, however. Especially the male operators are getting more and more annoyed. Every man walks around blue-balled and tired except König, and it makes them despise him even more. What a mad, lucky fucker... And what's even more fucked up is that even though he’s getting some nearly every day, this dude shows little to no signs of calming down.
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can you do Shimadas + saving their s/o when their vigilante activities go wrong? 🥺
Shimada's Saving Their Vigilante S/O
A/N: I have a feeling I know who this is...
Content Warning: Contains violence and minor character death
Hanzo:
Being chased by what was left of his clan, Hanzo knew they'd come after you eventually.
He just didn't know when
Especially since you two worked together to take out the last of the corrupted Shimada clan
One mission you and Hanzo decided to split up and take a fortess from both sides
Unfortunately for you, an alarm was sounded when you were spotted by a guard
You tried to find cover when a couple bullets grazed your side, knocking you down.
In minutes you were surrounded by Shimada cronies all with katanas and guns raised and aimed at you
The main guard was approaching you with a gun in hand when an arrow struck him in the head.
The other guards looked to Hanzo's direction only to get stuck with even more arrows
With the few remaining turning their attention to you, he jumps down from his perch, a look of cold rage set on his face.
One guard charged at him with his sword raised, Hanzo caught him by the throat and slammed him into the ground, effectively knocking him out.
Without thinking, Hanzo picked up the blade and went on a frenzy slicing through the remaining guards one by one.
After all guards were slain, Hanzo stood, his chest heaving, He looks to you and down to the sword his hands shaking as he drops the blade and runs to your side.
He slides to his knees and collects you into his arms tightly
Thank god you're alive, I had feared the worst
Hanzo hadn't picked up a blade since he's killed his own brother, but he knew he had to protect you. At this point he's enveloping your body with his as he releases choked sobs into your shoulder.
Once home Hanzo wraps his arms around you in bed and pulls you close, refusing to let you go
Genji
Talon was a common enemy for overwatch and while Genji recently convinced you to come to Overwatch's side, he knew Talon would be after you as well (Like Hanzo's situation)
One mission went terribly wrong when your group was ambushed and taken to the science division of a Talon base.
Genji felt his temperature turn to ice and ignoring the calls of his allies, tracked you down right away.
He'd melted through Talon forces swiftly and quietly, with the exception of making his hand burning hot and pressing it to a guard's neck to gather information on where you were being held
When he'd found out it was the science division, his stomach dropped Moira
Without hesitation he breaks through the vent and drops to the floor.
What Genji saw broke his heart.
You were strapped to the table with your half naked body littered with bruises showing signs of struggle. A couple IVs were poked into your arm
You looked so pale, so weak.
Genji felt a rage he hadn't felt in a long time bubble up in him, but he could handle it later, right now he had to get you out of here.
He Takes out the IVs, untie the straps, and gathers you in his arms, he hears heels boots click against the floor and he knew he needed to make his escape, so he puts you over his shoulder and crawls out of the window and makes a mad dash.
As he gains distances, he can hear the frustrated frantic yelling of the mad geneticist
Once he gets home with you, he bathes and dresses you comfortably and prepares food for you
Once you wake up, he cracks and tries his best not to break down in front of you.
Genji grabs your hand and presses it to face and confesses he was terrified to lose you
His tears slide onto your hand and he presses a tearful shaky kiss to your lips, proceeding to bury his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, breathing you in.
Kiriko
Listen, we all know it's gonna be the Hashimoto
You and Kiriko were partners in crime against the Hashimoto
both knew the risks and most of the time had a clear view of each other's backs
Most of the time
You had a bad habit of going out on solo missions to deal with the Hashimoto, and one of the few times Kiriko decides to tail you in secret you get ambushed
You were walking through an alleyway, weapons ready and investigating the markings of the Hashimoto on a wall when you're heard the unsheathing of swords and the clicking of loading guns
They were fast in jumping down from the roofs and you weren't quite fast enough.
You'd felt a stabbing pain in your shoulder and in your abdomen and looking down you'd been ran through by a couple blades.
Kiriko you had just caught up to you immediately calls out to her fox spirit and throws her Kunai
This time, aims she does not aim to spare, she aims to kill
She gets her wish when the sickening crack of kunai against skulls rang throughout the alleyway
The Hashimoto guards, who's blades had been right through you, pull out as they fall to the ground.
The world for you is shifting around and spinning as you feel yourself falling
Kiriko's glowing eyes are vibrant as they lock on to you and she teleports, catching you before you hit the ground. She uncorks her healing Suzu, and brings it to your lips, she tilts your head back and forces you to drink it
Your wounds seal up and Kiriko hears growing and shuffling and she sees a bleeding Hashimoto trying to crawl away.
She throws a kunai, and she hears her shot connect and his breathing stop.
Kiriko identifies that the life-threatening wounds are healed, but she lays ofuda on you to keep you stable as she carries you home.
Once through the front door, you see the glowing stops and her strength is waning, she makes it to her bed and lays you gently on top of it before crawling on top of you and cradling your face in her hands. She peppers your face in kisses before slowly leaning in and capturing your lips in hers.
Kiriko flops over next to you on her back and pulls you to her side, allowing your head to settle under her chin and she strokes your hair
don't ever do that again, not alone, we fight together.
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