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#only the fools use their powers for good
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I will never forget DTTM. I wish I could finish this with "bc it was a really cool concert and a great experience all around", which it was, but it's mostly bc tumblr won't let me forget about my ma smoking outside the bar with Jonny.
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kariachi · 7 months
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One of the things that gets me about the 'Vilgax possessed Kevin to build the Antitrix' theory (and it is a theory at best, the closest thing we have to evidence is his claiming Kevin was a 'vessel' with which to build it, but that can just as easily be read as 'I tossed the blueprints at you so you'd build it and it'd be ready when I got back', and the latter would make a lot more sense given if he'd possessed Kevin to get it done then why fucking let him keep a hold of it? why not hide it somewhere and then kill the kid? not like he's got some moral stance against it, and it would mean less hassle getting it back) is that this isn't something we see Vilgax do. Ever. We've seen weird shit with Vilgax and dreams in OS (and given Duncan Rouleou has stated that shit was due to being bound by fragments of Vilgax's DNA in the Omnitrix if we can already assume either that shit was expanded on or that even pre-watch there was Something going on with Kevin), but at no point are we ever given any indication that he can fucking possess people (which you'd think would have been utilized at some point before).
Like, the 'Vilgax either purposefully provided Kevin with the blueprints through a dream either so that it could be premade when he returned or accidentally provided the blueprints while for some reason fucking around in fuckers' heads and was saved face when somebody actually managed to build it by claiming it was on purpose' theory requires us to believe that Vilgax utilized a power other versions of him have already been shown to have to, on purpose or not, provide the blueprints he had already for the Antitrix to Kevin- who we see in the sequel series is a skilled mechanic and engineer and are shown during the reboot was already doing engineering as a child and regularly continued working on, fixing, and improving the Antitrix over the course of the show- who then built it.
Meanwhile the 'Vilgax possessed Kevin and built the Antitrix himself' theory requires us to believe that Vilgax pulled out a new power, off-screen, and used it the one time to not only possess an actual child with all the material access limitations that comes with but also for some reason leaves the resulting watch with the child, opening himself up to things like the risk of him breaking it and giving himself an added hassle as far as getting his hands on the damn thing when he did get back, rather than just hiding the watch somewhere safe and offing the witness.
So yeah, I'm going with the former.
#personally i'm of the 'vilgax purposefully showed off the blueprints but didn't expect anybody to actual be able to work with them' camp#like- after his attempt to get the power core he needed to make the things went as south as possible he decided to poke around some heads#got his little dreamwalker mitts on the best engineering minds to see if he could rubber duck off them to work out some ideas#for things on earth he could use to build a suitable substitute power source#only to find out when he got to earth that one of the fuckers had actually managed to understand the blueprints enough#and either worked out a suitable enough powersource or understood what vilgax came up with#and made his own#cue going 'oh hey that makes shit so much easier' but also playing it up like his plan all along#because like hell he's admitting this *human child* surprised him#it doesn't require him to pull out new off-screen powers or to be enough of a fool that he just leaves shit with random kids for no good re#and doesn't let the sort've fuckers that brush off any sign kevin has more than two brain cells linger around coming up with excuses#once had a fucker honestly come onto one of my posts and claim that *ben* at 16 had *clearly* modded the omnitrix in UA#because there was no way the member of the team that is *regularly shown* working with machines and tech was smart enough to#because 'good at math' apparently overrides 'the tech guy' status if the alternative is kevin being intelligent#fuckers in this fandom describing kevin as 'a passable mechanic' and they expect me to take their asses seriously
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vorestarr · 3 months
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what Sceleritas Fel says about each of the companions if the urge compels you to kill them:
Astarion: "He is so afraid. So, so afraid. Of everyone, besides you, who he ought to fear most."
Gale: "He thinks he might end the world. But you and I could do far worse."
Karlach: "She thinks she is finally away from the monsters. Poor fool."
Lae'zel: "She came all the way to this world, just to die here."
Shadowheart: "The gods fight over her, but is she truly that special?"
Wyll: "He has his own devil, just as you have me. Aren't you a foul pair?"
Wyll (if he's been turned into a devil): "He is an insult to the name of devils, posing as a monster with that sickly good heart."
and then, later, when you're arguing not to kill them:
Astarion: "You like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that. Why not make him a pretty corpse?"
Gale: "He would forget his god for you. But you won't for him, of that I know."
Karlach: "She's as good as dead anyway. She won't be saved by the power of love. Not yours."
Lae'zel: "She is only using you. Don't you know that?"
Shadowheart: "She was starting to trust you. The only one she ever has. Pity it's coming to an end."
Wyll: "He adores you so blindly. Like a pup. Don't you find it sickening?"
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eglerieth · 6 months
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Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:
• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind
• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF
• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger
• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves
• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite
• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET
• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”
• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION
• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom
• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating
• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators
• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.
• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels
• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon
• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king
• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing
• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung
• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics
• spent 60 years writing said autobiography
• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read
• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too
• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression
• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors
• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone
• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will
• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves
• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be
• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor
• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor
Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
summary: being gojo's wife was better than you could have imagined, too good perhaps. when you have doubts about being with him, gojo must simply show you that they're wrong
pairing: gojo x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, mdni, mild angst, heavy smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, heavy making out, gojo is a little possessive (but that's okay!)
note: this could be a historical au if you squint but i was too tired to go in-depth. also sorry for any typos, i might fix it later
word count: 3.3k
jjk masterlist
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gojo saturo was a man who was always sure of himself. 
he didn’t need anybody to tell him of his strength. the word of his agility spread across the aegean sea, and his strength rivaled no other man. his stark beauty that only came with having a goddess as a mother, and his snide remarks that came with being fed with a silver spoon his entire life. 
and yet you had never seen gojo so angry. never seen his eyes turn such a shade of gray, his hair framing his face messily as he breathed as though each inhale cost him the regular amount three would take. 
his (your) sleeping quarters usually a comforting place for you to be, but it all felt cold now. you could barely look at him without feeling the bile rise in your throat, wondering if you finally ruined the lick of happiness you were blessed with these past few months.
who would have thought your words would have such an effect on him? 
"what do you mean let you leave?" he spat your earlier statement as if it burned his tongue, seared his flesh as he if the prospect was enough to set even the holiest man aflame.
"i," you paused, your back pressing up against the wall as tears treacherously stabbed at your waterline, “i just think that you could have somebody…worthier.” you used the heel of your palm to wipe at your cheeks, hoping that the darkness would hide your weakness.
he took in another labored breath as if hearing you say it again was the confirmation he needed to make sure he heard you correctly the first time. 
“you could have anybody, gojo,” his lips curled at the use of his last name, getting comfortable with hearing ‘toru fall off your soft lips, “i don’t want you to be bound to me because you wanted to spite-” 
“spite?” he throws it out, cutting you off, scoffing in disbelief as you nod slowly. 
“you don’t have to take me for a fool,” you say through a sniffle, the moon carding through the window as it bounces off of his beautiful face, “i don’t have much to give, but i’m not dense. i know that there wouldn’t be many reasons after spite to take me as your wife.”
he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at you and then at the tears that stained your soft cheeks. he wanted to reach out and wipe them, to kiss the salt away, and to give you words that held his heart in each syllable but you would only deem them as moments to fill the silence and to please the gods.
“then you are dense if you think that’s why i picked you as my wife,” he tells you finally, the words cutting you through your nightgown and through your chest. you were aware he wielded the sword better than any grecian warrior, but you never would have guessed that his words could be just as powerful. 
“your mother wants-” 
“damn what she wants!” he cracked, shaking in anger as your lips wobbled at the flash that crossed his face, he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, looking away, trying to calm himself down as his hair fell into his eyes, “have you ever stopped to think about what about what i want?”
you didn’t know what he wanted. you had always thought that the gojo satoru would pick somebody spectacular to be his equal, somebody whose name was just as prominent as his. you thought that his wife would have been a child of a god as well, somebody who could match him on his every level. 
but now you weren’t sure, your past judgment slipping away as you took in his disheveled state.
“i,” he sighed, looking at you as he shook his head, “i want you so much that hearing you say you want to leave damn near tore my heart out. i want you so much that my every waking moment is spent thinking, dreaming, wanting you. you are the only person that i care for.” he choked out, his voice raw as he pushed the strands away so he could see you.
you couldn’t find anything to say as your lips trembled as you tried to conceal your cries. if only he knew your petty tears came from years of these words being muttered in the back of your head, from the people around you, and only tonight did they finally spill. you were strong, and you could control your emotions better than most, but seeing him tonight with the woman blatantly trying to win his attention proved the fragility in your mask. you knew that accepting his hand in marriage meant having to have skin thicker than before, but after months of hearing the crude rumors of why he picked you out of anybody else chipped away at you before this was all that was left. 
“i didn’t want you to be my wife out of spite,” he takes a tentative step forward, hoping that you don’t cower away because of it, “i wanted you to be my wife because i loved you too much for you to be anything but.” he walks again, his long legs reaching you in a matter of milliseconds as he’s now closer than he was before, his striking eyes taking you in better as you look at him from above your lashes, not wanting him to see you this way.
“you are so smart yet sometimes you can’t see beyond what people tell you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest as you let him, this warmth something you knew you could no longer live without, “i will not let you leave.”
“but-” 
“listen to me,” he murmurs firmly, his fingers grasping your jaw as he lifts it up so you can see him. 
“i will not let you leave…unless you want to,” his thumb swipes away at the corner of your eyes, searching for answers, “do you want to?”
no, you don’t.
you want to stay. you want to wake up to his kisses and his gentle touch, the honeyed words he’d tell you as he held you close to his naked body. you wanted to stay and experience what it’s like having the strongest soldier as your husband, to know that he wouldn’t let a fly land on your head. you want him.
“no,” you look away, your cheeks heating up under his heavy gaze, “but-” 
“then don’t leave.” he cut you off again, shushing your doubts as he shook his head. his fingers trailed across your shoulders, long as you felt them travel down the cloth that covered your back, holding your waist as he ran them across the expanse of your body. 
he knew the things you told yourself sometimes, he’d comforted you those nights when the darkness sheltered your tears and all he could do was tell you that you were wrong and hold you close to his thumping heart. 
this was the furthest it had ever been. his heart was thumping erratically and he was sure it would jump out of his throat if you actually left.
“‘toru, i really think that….” you trailed off as he dropped his head down, his lips finding your neck as he littered wet kisses on your skin, mouth curling into a smile as he heard your breathing hitch. 
he gripped your hips tightly, undoing the knot that met in the middle of your collarbones, watching as your robe fell to show off your supple skin to him. you wanted to hide, never getting used to that hungry look that would take over his face as he eyed your breaths, his cheeks glowing pink as he nudged his thigh in between your two legs. 
“do you really think i could live without these?” he asked, his hands cupping your tits as he flicked his thumb over your pert nipples, your lips catching between your teeth to hide your whines, “without you?” his hands ran down your stomach, his nose rubbing against your cheek as he teased his lips over yours, a cruel grin threatening to make its way onto his stunning face as you tried to meet him where he was. 
“now you’re eager?” he taunted, getting drunk off of your helpless whines, enjoying knowing the fact that neither of you would be able to survive without the other, that he needed to breathe your air in order to live. he could taunt and tease you as much as he’d want, but in the end, he’d always oblige. 
he kissed you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours as you let out a small gasp. he took the air from your lungs, your teeth clashing against each other as he held you to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest as he moaned into your mouth, wanting more. 
“want you, always want you,” you murmur against him, your fingers curling at the stray hairs at his nape, pulling him closer to you as you press up to kiss him again.
“then don’t ever say anything like that again,” he whispered, and for the first time that night you heard the vulnerability in his words, “i want you so bad that i can barely think straight without you.”
you wanted to apologize but he stopped you, already knowing the words that were going to come out of your mouth. He nipped at your lips, stealing your apology away silently, not wanting to see your pretty tears anymore, the sight hurting him more than any wound he’s attained in all his years as a warrior. 
dropping down to his knees as he breathed in your scent, his eyes rolling back as you tried to look away in embarrassment. He’d press kissed to your inner thighs, stopping just where you needed and wanted him most, taking your knee as he guided it upwards to rest on his shoulders, looking up at you as he rolled and smirked. 
“you think anybody else will love you like i do? treat you like this?” you shook your head, your fingers curling into his white hair as your head thumped against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your fluttering entrance as you whined out for him. 
“mmh, fuck,” he loved seeing you like this, beautifully naked, sweat dotting on your skin as you wrapped your leg around his back, “hurry up ‘toru,” you were impatient and he loved that about you. 
“anything for my wife,” he said, his mouth finally finding your clit as you let out a pleased cry, his fingers prodding at your dripping entrance as your eyes squeezed shut. this is where he loved to be most, the saccharine taste of you on his tongue, washing over his body as he grew taunt against his stomach. 
he sucked, his two fingers reaching deep in you as he curled them, switching them with his mouth occasionally as your grip on his hair grew tighter, guiding him up and down as he slurped your juices away, the sound echoing across the chamber. 
“just like that!” you moaned when he reached your spongy spot, your walls clenching around his fingers, your essence staining his chin as he looked up at you with a dopey look in his eyes, “fuuuck ‘toru,” your words were the sin that he longed for, tainting his existence with the presence of your love. 
he could feel you getting closer, his movements getting faster as he held one against your ass, cupping it as he brought you even impossibly closer to him, eating you out as he had never eaten a meal as good as this, and you did try to stop the noises that fell out of your mouth as you squeezed against him, creaming on his fingers as he brought you to your high, crying out his name as you tried to dig yourself against the wall.
your heavy breathing filled the room, your grip on his hair loosening up as he kissed your inner thigh one last time before disconnecting himself from your spasming pussy, grinning like a fool as he balanced himself on his haunches. 
“good?” 
“oh, shut up,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath as he chuckled, standing up as he brought you to his chest once again. you would never get tired of him like this, your juices on his lips and chin as he looked at you like you were his god. 
he would argue that you most definitely were. 
he pressed his lips to yours once again, letting you taste yourself on him as you whimpered against his rapid movements, grasping onto his arms for support as you hooked a leg around his waist, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.
you could feel him hard against your stomach, and you looked down, his robes not doing much to hide his length. 
“see what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear, your fingers running up and down his clothed cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling as you continued your motions, enjoying the way he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re mine.” 
“you flatter me,” you teased, your eyes still a little puffy but you cracked a smile, feeling him puff out a laugh as he shook his head, grasping onto your waist as though that was the only thing that could keep him standing. 
if only his enemies could see him like this; reduced to a mere mess all from your fleeting touch. 
“i’m being honest.” he sucks onto your neck, his nose nudging your jaw as you tug onto his clothing, your fingers grasping onto the sturdy fabric as you push it down, your eyes taking in his physique as he stands naked before you, the two of you finally even. 
“you’re so pretty,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes rake over his abs, the faint scars that litter his torso, the white hair that leads down to his angry cock that leaks pre all over his stomach.
he snorts, rolling his eyes as he wraps your legs around his hips once again, hoisting your upwards like you weigh nothing as he rested his dick in between your puffy folds, cocking his head as he looked at you through his long lashes. 
“me?” he asks as you giggle softly, nodding as his heart flutters at the sound, “i wish. look at your eyes,” he presses a kiss against your lids, “and your nose,” he kisses the tip of your nose as you try not to laugh even louder, the giddy sound something he hopes the gods could hear so that would envy him and the woman he has in his hands, “and your lips,” he pecks them, “and your smart, smart head,” he presses another kiss against your hairline, balancing your body in his arms, “my beautiful wife.” he finishes, looking back at your flustered figure, proud of his work.
“stop,” you whine, not making any motion to actually stop him, bathing in the endless attention as he tapped his cock head against your clit, your laughs seizing as you look down, forgetting where you were, “you’re such a tease ‘toru.” 
“only because i love you so much,” he said, thrusting up into you as your mouth dropped open into a wanton moan, your head falling back as he took in a sharp breath between his teeth, never getting used to the way you clenched so tightly around him, making it hard to not come in just a matter of seconds. 
“f-fuck,” he moaned, his hot breath hitting your breasts as he dropped his head down to see where the two of you connected, slowly moving his hips as he moved in and out of you, his mushroom tip catching in your fluttering walls as your nails dug into his back, dragging red lines down as he began to rhythmically pound into you, “you’re so fucking tight,”
“mmmh!” you could only whine out, your words slurring in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his dick thumping against you was better than any other feeling in the world, you could barely try to raise your hips up to meet him, but he took care of it for you, his strength never failing to amaze you, “l-love you so much ‘toru, m’sorry for w-what i said!” 
even if he was still caught up over it, he fucked you as if to make you forget about it. 
“my wife,” he’d mutter over and over again, searing the words into fate as he fucked you with so much love that it seeped out of his pores. Sweat caught on his brow and his cupids bow and you ducked down to kiss it away, the salty taste on your lips welcoming back as he feverishly kissed you back, “my wife.”
you loved the way his veins dragged up and down your walls, the rings of your essence and creams that frothed around the base of his cock, the way his thighs clenched as his fingers dug into your ass. 
this was something you knew you could never find anywhere else. gojo satoru was something you could never find anywhere else. 
“say your mine, f-fuck, say it,” he muttered against your skin, “need to hear you say it.” 
“m’yours!” your fingers tugged at his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he welcomed the sting, “i’m only yours!” 
His eyes rolled back as you continued to flutter against him, his high coming faster than it usually would, but he knew that he couldn’t control it with the way you kept crying out his name in that honeyed tone of yours. 
“shit, i’m ‘gonna cum, cum with me, need to feel you cum around me…” he rambled on, your pussy made him crazy. And you were nodding your head, not knowing how to speak anymore as his hips shuddered, your releases spraying each other as he cummed deep into you, white trickling out from where he had you plugged out as you cried out from the pleasure that washed over your body. 
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered after a couple of seconds passed, and you were still trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, his words warming your soul as he kissed your cheeks.
you looked up at him, suddenly bashful despite what happened, and he had the audacity to cackle at the sight. 
you were stunning always, but he loved this look the most. the sleepy but pleased look in your eyes as you clung to him, your arms draping from his shoulders as he walked with you connected to him, just as you should be. he loved the little smile that would always litter your lips after sex, knowing that if he were to die now he’d die a happy man.
“come on,” he kept you wrapped around his waist as he kept one hand under your ass and one tightly around his waist, “i’ll let you rest, but i need to get some things to clean you up.” his eyes trailed to the mess he made, trying not to let his cock harden at the white that painted your thighs and seeped out from your pussy, knowing you were too tired for another round. 
“i love you,” you muttered into his neck, pressing a kiss where your lips were and he shuddered. 
he squeezed you tightly to him, not knowing what he’d do if you were to leave. he was a man far gone, you had too much control over him to ever submit to any other king again. you were the only being who could tell him what to do, what to feel, and what to love. 
“love you most, my beautiful wife.”
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winkwonkwankwenk · 2 months
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Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)
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SFW
Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.
"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."
Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.
His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.
Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.
Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.
Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.
Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.
Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.
Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."
His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."
He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."
Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"
Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.
Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.
Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.
He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.
His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.
Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.
Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.
"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.
He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.
Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."
Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.
"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.
Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.
Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"
NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)
Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.
He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.
Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.
His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.
You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."
You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.
You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.
He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.
Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.
Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.
He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.
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altruisticalastor · 2 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, prequel to the first two parts, alastor and reader are human in this part, 1930's period typical misogyny (NOT from alastor), fluff, falling in love, obsessive!alastor, reader is in hell for a reason, murder, gunshot wound, major character death, one suggestive scene involving finger sucking *giggles*, domestic!alastor, reader and alastor being an absloute power couple, blood, alcohol consumption, dancing
☒ Word Count: 6,276
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You often dreamt of trading places with your dear old friend, Elaine. She had it all; money, family, respect.
You, on the other hand, had none of those things.
When your parents left without notice on your eleventh birthday— you ended up homeless in a matter of weeks. Elaine’s family took you in out of pity, and they made it very known throughout your childhood that they only cared for you to make themselves out to be saints. It didn't take a fool to see that they treated their own flesh and blood better than the rubble they picked up off the streets.
Elaine was often condescending toward you, but you put up with the brunt of it. It's not like you had any other choice- and when her father offered you a typist gig at his local radio broadcasting studio- you had no other option but to accept.
Your treatment from others at the studio was no better than the one you received at home. 
If you could even call that loveless place a home.
The broadcasting biz was male-dominated, as most jobs were in your day. So, of course your counterparts looked down upon you as a woman. You were less than to them, and the constant berating about how you should be wed by now with kids to dote on ticked you off even further.
That was not on the itinerary for you. 
The plan was to save enough of the slim earnings you made being a typist to run far away from this place. To be free of these people, from this town. You dreamt about how lovely it would be not to bite your tongue and endure all the nasty things people spat at you just to have a roof over your head.
Soon, just a little bit longer. 
Grin and bear it. Don't let them know what you hide behind the façade.
"My, my! What a lovely smile!" A smooth voice pulled you from your stupor. You flinched back from your desk as the man standing before you ducked low- extending his hand.
"What's your name, little darling? I'm Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" You took the man's hand, shaking it slowly sharing your name, and offering the same pleasantries, before peering up to get a good look at this Alastor fellow.
Based on first impressions, you thought he was a well-put-together fellow. His crimson vest hugged his slender frame well, you noted. His white dress shirt underneath contrasted beautifully with the seamless leather gloves adorning his large hands. The black bowtie was simply the cherry on top of his polished look. His features were handsome, and that darling smile of his caused your face to grow hot. His chestnut eyes peered at you behind his round-framed glasses, gazing at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky. 
You had never been captivated by a man until this very instant. You always believed romance was a waste of time. But now... you weren't feeling as opposed.
"Say, what brings a fella like you to a place like this?" You stood from your seat as his hand released yours. His gloved fingertips lingered on your palm for a moment- but it was long enough for you to notice.
"Why a job, of course! You're looking at the new host of the biggest radio broadcast in all of Louisiana!" Alastor's grin widened as he puffed out his chest proudly, bringing his hands up to straighten out his bowtie.
"Oh, my! Congratulations, Mister. I look forward to working with you." Your voice was as lively as ever, putting in your best effort to come off as friendly. Alastor's deep chestnut eyes studied yours. It was almost intimidating. 
Almost.
"Just call me Alastor, my dear! A beauty such as yourself is more than qualified to be on a first-name basis with me." His flirtatious nature had your heart rate accelerating at an alarming gait. Plus, the wink he shot your way to emphasize his statement only added fuel to the fire.
You were at a loss for words, simply nodding in agreement at his terms. Your gaze averted from Alastor's as you rubbed at your arm nervously. You had never been this flustered before. It was... uncharacteristically exciting for you. "Excuse my fowardness darling, but would you allow me to take you dancing tonight? It is a cause for celebration, after all!"
His offer left you stammering as you clutched your arm tightly, your sweaty palm bleeding through your vermilion dress sleeve. "Are you positive you want to celebrate with a woman you only just met?" You chuckled nervously, meeting his gaze once more.
"It would be my pleasure, little darling." You swore your heart skipped a beat as those words left his lips. Alastor was an enigma of a man, and he left you needing to know more about him. "If you insist! I'm flattered, truly."
Alastor chuckled lowly at your words as he took ahold of your hand once more. This time, he turned your palm downward before pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. Alastor's eyes bored into yours as he placed a chaste kiss atop your knuckles. His lips lingered on your skin for a few beats longer until he inevitability abjured from you.
"Lovely! I'll be waiting in the lobby once the workload is finished for the day. Meet me there?" You could only nod in agreement as your heartbeat resounded in your ears. Alastor bid you farewell, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He just asked you on a date- didn't he? 
Shit, shit- shit! A relationship was not on your to-do list.
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The workday trickled on slowly. You were beside yourself— too focused on your plans with Alastor tonight.
Was your dress formal enough? It’s not like you could go home and change now— and you didn’t have the proper heels on. The pair that you usually switched into before you went dancing.
It would be fine— why were you even stressing over the little details?
More importantly… what were Alastor’s intentions with this— date?
You mulled it over the whole trip to the lobby of your workplace. You felt your nerves prickle your skin when your eyes met Alastor’s. 
He was already waiting patiently for you near the exit. Alastor had a blazer on now, you noted— and he was smiling wider than ever. “Ah, there you are! Ready to head out, dear?”
Alastor’s voice was equivalent to a smooth amaretto. Silky and delightful, with a little bit of an edge to it. Your mouth felt like it was full of cotton from the nerves— and all you could muster was a quick nod.
“Wonderful! We better get going while the night is still young— ha!” Alastor opened the door, tilting his head; gesturing toward the exit. You got the hint, wobbly legs guiding you out of the building and to the dimly lit street.
You knew a speakeasy just up the other street, so you figured that was the spot Alastor intended on taking you. As your feet led you in the direction of the bar, Alastor let out an amused hum. “My, my… am I correct to assume you know your way around these parts of town?” You giggled nervously, as you felt Alastor’s arm brush up against yours as he walked beside you.
“You’re spot on. I’ve lived here all my life, and for a brief period, I was living on these streets.” Your voice was quiet as those words left your lips. Perhaps you should have kept that detail to yourself. You kept your eyes forward as you walked along the sidewalk. But you could feel Alastor’s eyes on you— without peeking over.
“Might I ask why, darling?” You swallowed harshly, not expecting a follow-up question. You secretly hoped Alastor would have skirted past that little detail about your past. “Ah well, my parents moved out of town on my eleventh birthday. I think they forgot what day it was, truthfully. They were too hopped up on pills and booze,” You laughed bitterly at the memory before continuing. “My parents owed the bank a lot of money, you see, so the first thing those brokers collected was the house I still lived in at the time.”
You shook your head in disbelief, scoffing as you continued the recollection of your youth. “Those money-hungry sharks didn’t even give me a month to collect my things or find somewhere to shack up. When the cops arrived, I told them I’d be staying with a relative— but that was a bold-faced lie!” The speakeasy was in your sights, so you tried to get to the end of this pitiful little tail. “Long story short— I lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until my friend’s parents took me in.”
Alastor swiftly opened the bar door for you, gesturing you in. You were met by the smooth sound of jazz the moment you stepped foot in the joint. The smell of cigarettes and liquor saturated the space. Alastor interlocked your arm with his as he led you to a nearby table. You felt heat rush to your face from the unexpected touch. “I’m truly sorry you had to experience such hardships at such a young age, my dear. That must have been very difficult for you to process.” Alastor’s voice was soft as he offered his sympathy. He pulled the wooden chair out, allowing you to sit comfortably. Alastor gently pushed your seat in before taking his across from you.
“Thanks for saying so. You’re the first person to actually consider my feelings.” You chuckled, raising your hand and gesturing your fingers in a come hither motion to grab the waiter's attention. “What ever do you mean?” Alastor propped his elbows on the table, cupping his face with his hands as he leaned forward. His eyes swirled with curiosity. Alastor was genuinely curious to know you better— your heart skipped a beat from the notion.
“Well— most people just praise Elaine— that’s my friend… if you could even call her that— anyway, as I was saying! Most folks boast about how heavenly Elaine’s parents are for taking in a poor old nobody like me.” The waitress knew you well, so he kindly placed your usual atop the creaky table. One for you and one for your date. You offered the fellow a warm thanks before taking a sip.
“Praise? Those folks did the bare minimum! Tell me more about your friendship with Elaine, hm?” Alastor didn’t bother downing the liquor just yet. He was too enthralled by you and your musings. You felt nervous under his curious eyes— so you took another sip of the saccharine quencher before continuing. “You sure—? I feel like I’ve been talking an awful lot, and where are my manners? I haven’t asked you a single thing!” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling embarrassed with yourself for your rude display.
Alastor’s gloved fingers wrapped around your hand in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flickered down to where the two of you were now connected before his voice tore your gaze back to his face. “Nonsense, my dearest! Please, I insist. I’d be delighted to know more about you.” His words were so earnest, and he spoke with much confidence. All you could focus on was the feeling of his gloved fingertips caressing the back of your palm and the echo of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.
“Alright— if you insist… but if I ramble too much, just tell me to shut it, will ya?” You downed the last of your drink as a laugh escaped Alastor. “I would never silence you, darling. Don’t ever allow a single soul to treat you that way for that matter, understood? Now, carry on!” You felt your blood pressure spike from his kindness, and your hand twitched under his grasp from the giddiness you felt before you continued on. “U-Understood. Anyway, um, Elaine is an old-school buddy of mine. But we grew apart the older we got… so, by the time we reached junior high, she practically hated my guts!” You laughed at the recollection as the alcohol buzz began to kick in.
“Elaine would make up nasty rumors about me and then deny the fact that she did. Any other friend I tried to make, Elaine would somehow do or say something to make them dislike me. I couldn’t do anything about it— I had to play nice because of the living conditions. I still do!” Alastor’s eyes never left yours, and neither did his hand. He continued to rub the back of your palm soothingly as you rambled on.
“Even my job at the radio station… it wasn’t my choice. But Elaine’s father owns the company, so he offered me the typist position. Not like it was really an offer, though— I had no choice but to accept the opportunity. Otherwise, I would have been ungrateful. Christ, I really hate those folks… they look at me as if I’m—“
“—Scum?” Alastor chimed in. His voice was low as he leaned in closer. Your head was a bit fuzzy from the alcohol as you felt his breath fan across your cheeks. “Yeah… like scum.” You felt his hand tighten around yours. His smile was smaller than before, a bit more rigid, for that matter. 
“I knew you and I were the same. The moment laid eyes on you, I knew,” Alastor paused, bringing his free hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“You see, I was treated that same way my entire life, my dear. Until I decided I was quite the opposite of what those disrespectful wretches deemed me as.” His hand lingered by your face, daring to cup your cheek. 
Alastor's breath had a hint of coffee and spice to it— you noted— as his face inched even closer to yours. “And you are too, my dear. Those fools don’t hold a candle to your magnificence.” Your body felt light, and all you could focus on was Alastor’s chestnut eyes— every breath you took fogged up his glasses a little.
“You really think so?” You muttered, a lazy grin stretching across your face as Alastor finally allowed his gloved palm to rest against your cheek. 
"I know so, my sweet girl.” He caressed your burning face with much tenderness. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your thoughts were all out of sorts as you tried to articulate a proper sentence in your drunken stupor. 
“What did you mean before when you said— that you and I are one and the same?”
Alastor let out a soft chuckle, causing your eyes to flutter shut for a moment. He leaned over the table, invading your personal space. Dipping his face low— lips lingering next to your ear. “You use your smile as a tool. Hiding how you truly feel behind that pretty little mask of yours.” Your breath hitched from his words— was it that obvious? Could everyone tell that your welcoming smile was nothing but a lie? Before you could spiral further— and as if Alastor could sense your worries— he eased your mind with his words. “Worry not, my dear. Only I can see through your façade. One should recognize themselves when looking into a mirror, yes?”
Alastor slowly pulled his head back. Allowing his face to come into your line of sight. “So you… and I… are alike in that way, huh?” You mumbled out, letting an airy chuckle escape you. Alastor squeezed your hand once more before he leaned back in his chair. You watched as the man sitting before you picked up his untouched glass of liquor. He downed his drink in the blink of an eye slamming his glass against the table before standing up from his seat.
“I take pride in keeping my promises, and I have intention to dance with you tonight, my dear. So, shall we?” Alastor outstretched his hands toward you, his toothy grin cascading across his features. You took hold of him without hesitation, giggling youthfully when he pulled you to your feet with ease. “I’d be delighted!” Alastor wasted no time pulling you to the open floor. The music was as vibrant as ever now that you were closer to the live band. The vibrations of the music reverberated through your sternum; as did the butterflies when you felt Alastor’s large palm drape around the small of your back.
His other hand took ahold of yours, and instinctively, you placed your other palm flat against his shoulder. Alastor began leading you to the melody of the song. Your cheeks hurt from how wide your grin was. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and meant it before tonight— all thanks to this mysterious man you met today. “Alastor, I know we only just met, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life!” You shouted loud enough for only Alastor to hear beyond the music. His chestnut eyes swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on as his eyebrows lifted in shock.
“You took the words right out of my mouth, my dearest! The moment I saw you, I knew you would be truly magnificent.” Alastor dipped you low, his grasp on you tightening to support you. He was slow when he dragged your upper half back up, allowing your chest to slot against his own. 
“Well, did I meet your expectations?” You joked. Alastor ducked his head low, allowing his face to invade your personal space. This time, his nose brushed against yours, lips mere centimeters from colliding. 
“You exceeded them.” Alastor’s voice was quiet, but you heard him. Loud and clear. 
This moment felt too good to be true, and the longer you gazed into his captivating eyes, the more lost you became in Alastor. Your lips trembled in anticipation— and your hand at his shoulder clenched and unclenched— a small habit to help ease the nerves. 
“Would it be foolish of me to say that I… feel like I’m falling for you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you searched for any displeasure that dared to cross his face from your confession— but you found none.
“And if I admitted to reciprocating those feelings… would that make me outlandish as well?” Alastor’s hand released yours, now opting to slide up between your bodies to cup your chin beneath his gloved fingertips. He tilted your head up just a touch more. 
Alastor finally closed the gap between your lips and his. Your eyes widened in shock from the chaste kiss he gave you. You caught Alastor’s intense stare on you while he pressed further into you before your eyelids fluttered shut. The grip you had on his shoulder tightened as his lips danced along yours. They were warm and cracked slightly from his incessant smiling. But you didn’t mind it one bit. He tasted of your favorite liquor and conviction. 
Your mind went fuzzy from the mix of alcohol running through your bloodstream and the feeling of sharing your very first kiss with a man you met only earlier today.
It’s strange. Even though you only crossed paths with Alastor this morning— he was the first person in your life to ever see you; the real you. The woman you kept hidden behind a plethora of masks and musings. You prided yourself on your foolproof façade, so when Alastor just waltzed past your guarded walls, it threw you for a loop. But this change of pace was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. For the first time in your life, you felt a sense of control over your own life— over your own freedom. Alastor believed in you, so why shouldn’t you believe in yourself?
Alastor parted his lips from yours slowly, savoring the moment with you for as long as he could. Your eyelids peeled open, taking in Alastor's pleased countenance. "Oh, my darling. There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight now."
Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 
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You could hardly stay away from Alastor after your first date. It was as if a magnetic force was pulling you to him. He walked you home from the radio station each night and met you at your doorstep each morning. He even told you one time that he memorized absloutely every part of your day so you could always have time for each other. It was the little things that made you fall even harder for him. Alastor would leave a bouquet of roses atop your desk every Friday when you took your lunch break so that when you arrived back, you would be pleasantly surprised by his gesture.
Alastor was a proper gentleman, and his kindness and care toward you almost made you forget about the rotten things in your life— almost.
Elaine grew jealous of your new beau. She noticed you were livelier than ever, and that just wouldn't cut it. Misery loves company, after all.
She had her father triple your workload, forcing you to stay after hours. It took a toll on you and made it harder to keep time for Alastor. 
But that wasn’t all— your room would be trashed by the time you came home. And somehow, your very few belongings started going missing. 
The last of your patience went out the window when you noticed the locket Alastor gifted you for your one-month anniversary was nowhere to be found. 
It didn’t take a genius to realize Elaine was behind your sudden stroke of bad luck. You put up with the torment all your life, but not anymore. You were at your wits end with Elaine and her arrogant family. 
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“Christ, I hate that wicked woman!” You groaned in frustration as you barged into Alastor’s apartment. The lanky man whipped his head in your direction from where he sat at the piano. His fingers stilled against the keys, ending his song with a dull note. “What did she do this time, my dear?” You stormed over to him before slotting yourself beside Alastor on the piano bench. 
“The locket you gave me for our one-month anniversary is missing! She stole it— I just know it!” You gritted through bared teeth. Alastor wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as he cooed at you. “You know, the offer to move in with me still stands.” His voice was gentle as he placed a kiss atop your head. His large palm smoothed over your arm; in an attempt to ease your nerves. 
Heat rose to your face from the mention of his proposition. Sure, you thought about it countlessly. But you and Alastor were only approaching that six-month mark of your flourishing relationship. You always believed in the notion of waiting to live with a partner until after marriage. That’s what you conveyed Alastor. “You know we can’t… unless you are willing to get hitched tomorrow,” You joked, turning your head slightly to peer up at him. 
“Darling, you know I would marry you in a heartbeat. But one of us is not ready for marriage quite yet!” He quipped, dipping low and nuzzling his nose into yours. Your heart did a flip from his unyielding confession. 
You knew Alastor would do anything for you at this point— this man was like no other. He worshipped the ground you walked on, yet you still were on the fence about marriage. You still had your personal goals you wanted to achieve before tying the knot, and Alastor respected your wishes. But you knew deep down he was aching to put a ring on your finger and claim you as his for good. 
“Hey— don’t tease! I just… It’s becoming harder to put up with their nonsense. I wish they would all disappear! Elaine, her father, and her mother.” You let out a long sigh as your body slumped forward. You rested your head atop Alastor’s broad shoulder, smiling softly at his familiar scent. 
“Well, I could make that a reality for you, my sweet girl.” Alastor’s voice was low and dripping with mystery. You laughed at his cryptic utterance. “Yeah, by doing what? Throwing them in a ditch?” You joked, raising a brow as his hand halted against your arm. The air became thick with tension as the silence grew louder. 
“…Well yes, my dear! But the ditch part would be after all the fun.” You quickly turned to face him, your frantic eyes scanning his features for any semblance of falsehood. You found nothing of the sort. 
Alastor’s features were as relaxed as ever. As if he asked you something as mundane as 'what day was it?’
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Your voice was level as your eyes locked with his chestnut ones. You nervously anticipated his response. “Quite so! Have you noticed the lack of journalists around the radio station lately?" His question threw you for a loop. 
Now that you thought about it- yeah, there has been a lack of jerks around the office. The same fellows that undermined you just for existing. 
“Well now that you mention it— yeah, I have. What does that have to do with anything?” You tilted your head slightly, still not following where your boyfriend was going with this. Alastor’s grin sharpened as his eyes flickered to your lips. “My, dearest, you are too pure for your own good. It drives me crazy.” Alastor’s other hand drifted from the piano keys. His thumb and forefinger came up to grasp your chin. He pulled you in close as his eyes flickered back to yours. 
“Well, I took care of those nasty good-for-nothings! They are resting comfortably in a ditch deep within the preserve. So, no need to worry your pretty little head over it!” Your eyes widened from his confession— his even tone and frenzied stare proved that what he said was factual. 
“They had it coming! Speaking down to you in such a way. I could hardly stand it any longer, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” Alastor sounded pleased with himself as he confessed to murder so casually. Your eyebrows rose in shock as he tugged you closer. Your lips ghosted over his. “You killed those men for my sake?” 
You could smell the whiskey on his breath from this proximity. Alastor’s hand— that rested on your arm— now found purchase around your waist. “Indeed, and I would do it again in a heartbeat for your sake.” You could sense his anticipation to kiss you at that moment. 
His love for you was suffocating in the best way possible. You didn’t know you were capable of drowning until you sank into his touch. “And I would take pleasure in ending Elaine and her parents’ lives. If it meant your precious mind would be at ease.” 
Your heart fluttered as you closed the gap. Your lips molded against his, moving in tandem. You turned your body toward him through your shared embrace, sliding a leg up and over the piano bench— now straddling the seat. Alastor’s grip on your waist tightened. His fingertips twitched with need as they danced further along your side. You reached out for him, desperately carding your hands through his chestnut locks. Alastor’s chest pressed tightly into yours as his lips moved against yours with a searing desire. You only dared to pull back when your lungs started burning. Alastor rested his forehead against yours as you shared the same air. 
“You really mean it?” You asked breathlessly, allowing your hands to cup his cheeks. 
“My dear, I would die for you,” Alastor paused, the pad of his thumb swiping across your bottom lip sensually. 
“I would lie for you,” His thumb pushed past your parted lips, and your tongue instinctively swirled around his deft digit. 
“I would happily follow you to hell if you asked me to.” You gave his finger a playful suck, reveling in the sight of Alastor’s deep blush. 
His chestnut gaze fixated on your mouth as you pulled off of his thumb with a wet pop. Alastor shuddered at your sultry display. His grip on your waist was firm. 
“Please, Alastor. I want to be a part of it this time. We will be unstoppable together.” 
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Alastor swore he fell in love with you a thousand times over the moment those words left your lips. You couldn’t be any more perfect for him. 
Alastor wanted to tell the whole world about the colors he saw in your eyes; the colors a man out of love could never recognize. He truthfully would have married you the first day you met. It was fixation at first sight. 
He was overjoyed to commit murder alongside you— one of the many memorable first times you would come to share. Alastor saw the pieces fall into place before his very eyes the moment he witnessed you take someone’s life. 
The frenzied stare you harbored; the blood spattering over your perfect face, decorating your smile in a picturesque way. Alastor swore meeting you was his life purpose, and assisting you on your first kill solidified that sentiment for him. 
Alastor could not suppress the urge to touch you at that moment. He pulled you close, taking the lead like many times before. You danced around the dead bodies, laughter filling the barren space as the record player skipped from the other room. 
He always knew red was your color. The first time you met, you were wearing a vermillion dress. But the deep crimson blood covering you from head to toe was your best look yet— he thought. 
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After you both hid the evidence and any proof of life— fabricating notes on Elaine and her parents' behalf to make it seem like they went abroad— you celebrated. 
Celebrated the past no longer having you in its clutches. 
Celebrated the freedom of never having to grin and bear it to survive; ever again. 
Celebrated the ever-growing love you held for Alastor— as he did you. 
Celebrated the new beginnings and the best that was yet to come. 
You saw life in a new light from that day forward, seizing each day with delight. 
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With Elaine’s father out of the picture, Alastor became the man in charge at the radio station. He had full creative freedom to take his radio show in any direction he pleased. If folks dared to disagree, Alastor would promptly take care of them. 
Business was booming for Alastor at the radio station, and you were finally out pursuing hobbies and careers that inspired you. 
Alastor ended up popping the question a couple of months later as things began to settle down for you both. It was romantic, really. His gesture was over the top and grand in the best way possible but still entirely authentic to Alastor. You finally felt ready to take the next step in your relationship. And so, you said yes. 
Alastor was over the moon when you agreed. You could have sworn you saw a single tear roll down his cheek— but he denies it vehemently. 
You didn’t have any friends or family, and neither did Alastor— with his mom having passed years prior, so you truthfully had no need for a grand ceremony. Alastor sorted out the date for you to be wed. The anticipation only elevated your excitement by the day. And when the date finally approached, you could hardly contain your joy. 
You took on the day like any other— you made breakfast, hung the laundry on the clotheslines, participated in your favorite pastimes, and met up with Alastor in the preserve to assist him in burying his most recent victim. 
You didn’t know the dead fellow, but you were sure Alastor had a fair reason for killing him. The man probably took the last jar of special spice from the store that Alastor used to recreate his mother’s jambalaya— and in that case, the prick had it coming. 
It was dusk. The sky was a mesmerizing red and orange ombré as you walked hand in hand through the woods with Alastor. Your free hand held a shovel, and his free hand gripped the ankle of the deceased man whom he dragged from behind along the rocky path. Now and then, the dead man’s clothing would cling to a stubborn stone, making Alastor halt in his stride. You would share a chuckle before he tugged the man free, continuing down the path with you by his side. 
You were so excited to get this over with, so you could head to the courthouse with your beloved Alastor. As you recited your vows in your head, you suddenly heard a loud boom before your hearing failed you entirely. Everything was motionless after that. 
Your mind scarcely processed what had happened until you turned to face Alastor. The sight before you had your stomach in knots. Your beloved was bleeding from his forehead, and as if you were in slow motion— your arms reached up to him as his legs buckled beneath him. You knew you were screaming by the burning sensation in your throat, but your ears were still ringing in a deafening manner. The last thing your conscious mind ever saw was the grim view of all light leaving Alastor’s eyes. 
Those same eyes that grounded you. That brought you purpose and offered you nothing but love and devotion.
All of that was gone in a split second.
After that, you felt a searing pain in your head before your vision went dark. 
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It was as if you were underwater. You felt lighter than air as you sunk deeper into uncharted waters. You could hear muffled voices and flashing lights shining from the surface— but it was all out of reach. You just sunk peacefully. Enjoying the enshrouding darkness. 
However, your peace was torn from you as quickly as it was obtained. 
“She’s a Jane Doe. Poor girl got caught in the crossfire. I bet she didn’t even know the guy she was walking with was a serial killer!” Your eyes burned from the bright lights and the nauseating white ceiling that took up your line of sight as the distant people continued to chatter. “I bet he tricked her into thinking he was a good guy— bet he led her out in those woods just so he could kill her like that poor fellow he was dragging out there!” 
The rhythmic beeping increased as all your focus shifted to the intense shooting pain coming from your head. “Oh— she’s awake! Miss, can you hear me?” You groaned softly as an older woman came into your line of sight. She was peering over you. You must have been lying down— you thought. 
“Loud and clear.” You mumbled, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down by the stranger. “Miss you can’t do that! You’re in the hospital. You suffered from a severe injury. Please, don’t make any sudden movements.” Her words took a moment to process through your semi-conscious mind. 
“What happened to me?” You managed to mutter as you closed your eyes. The intense lights were causing your head to ache even worse. “Miss, you were shot in the head. It was a hunting accident gone wrong,” The nurse paused, giving you a moment to digest her words before continuing. 
“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That Alastor fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer,” Your mind was struggling to piece things together as the nurse rambled along. 
“The bullet you took probably was the exact reason you’re still alive! Who knows what that maniac would have done to you? Which reminds me, do you remember your name, sweetheart? You didn’t have identification on your person. We asked around the area to see if anyone recognizes you, but we've had no luck with that.” 
You were surely dreaming, right? 
Everything this woman was saying sounded outlandish. How did you even end up in a situation like that, and more importantly— 
Wait… what is your name? 
“I… I don’t know. I can’t… remember a thing.” You shook your head, which only caused you more pain as your eyes shot open. You were still met by the sight of the noisy nurse, and the white hospital walls. 
Nope, not a dream.
The nurse looked at you with a horrified look. “Oh geez… the doctor said your injury could cause memory loss, but it was a slim chance. Let me go fetch him. This is way out of my pay grade.” The sound of her footsteps echoed through your head before they slowly dissipated. You gaped up at the blank wall. 
A clean slate, nothing to give the surface any character. 
Ironic. 
You had no clue who you were and no memories of your life before this accident. 
You were left with more questions than answers. 
The only thing you knew about yourself was that you were one of many Jane Doe's. 
Fuck.
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tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz
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waokevale · 3 months
Text
Introducing Follower gang!
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There. Finally did all the Bishops follower designs!
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The 7 deadly sins
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And some other follower gang, done with lineart this time because the other 2 pieces made me lose my soul for how long they took.
(Also a small HC if I may: Dr. Sozonius is trapped inside the mushroom on Sozos head, while the actual mushroom is controlling his body)
+ some more doodles
Info about the 7 Sins and more doodles below:
Jeg represents Greed - he was one of the first of Lamb's followers. (At first, it was very difficult for Lambert to indoctrinate people, due to their inexperience, this guy was like the 5th or so) Jeg has...a very specific personality to say the least, yet the Lamb can't help but be fond of him. They eventually nominate him the Tax enforcer role and...That might've been the worst decision of their life. But they did not take the role away. Jeg acts smug 24/7 and relishes in his new power, but deep down, dudes pretty insecure, ( but don't tell anyone!) He used to have a huge crush on the lamb, but then Narinder and eventually the other bishops came, and since their leader was for some reason head over heels for the ex god of death, Jeg grew bitter and often got into fights with Nari, as well as charging him and his other siblings more than the average follower. Though he's mostly mellowed out since then.
Brash represents Gluttony They despise Helob, since they used to fight for "food" a lot, and eventually Brash got really injured and was found by the Lamb. She tried to eat them, but was quickly disarmed. Despite this, they decided to spare him and bring his sorry ass back to the cult to indoctrinate. They were very cunning and didn't trust the lamb either, but eventually they cooled off and accepted the new life. She still eats people tho, just not from the cult, otherwise jail or *worse*
Yara represents Pride She is one of the core followers. She's very strict and somewhat self-centered, she likes things done her way, or if not her way, the lambs way. Period. No one else can boss her around or even give a helpful advice. She's actually a pretty stand up deer, and despite being incredibly stubborn still makes a good friend. She gets along with most people though Brash annoys her, since he keeps snatching body parts off corpses. She has always been extremely devoted to the lamb and will be annoyed if any follower dissents and tries to preach against them. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when they eventually took down all the bishops.
Thorn represents Envy He had a pretty terrible life before the cult. When he was brought in, she was bitter about her newfound situation. He wasn't very trusting of the lamb and thought they expected something out of her (which technically they did, but it's just work). He envies the fools who are so oblivious and just do everything as they're told and let their lives be guided by some amateur god. Similar to the other two, he puts on a mask, He often acts overly saccharine to hide his true feelings, but doesn't have any bad intentions. (Most of the time) She does genuinely like some people, but others, he only pretends to like to appease the lamb or to blackmail them. He hates when the people he actually cares about are threatened.
Jermo represents Wrath Jermo absolutely does not trust anyone. Similar to Thorn, and most other followers tbh, their life was absolutely horrible prior to the cult. They trusted some people, they got betrayed, and almost died several times because of it. It was extremely difficult for the lamb to make them stop dissenting. They legit had to give them the loyalty necklace in order for them to finally stop dissenting. Jermo keeps getting into fights with other followers, because they feel as though everyone is always against them or is constantly judging them. (They're technically not wrong) They've died 5 times, because they keep getting into fights with other followers. Lamb strongly considered keeping them dead, but decided to challenge themself with them (also they're too cuddly to just be killed off) Despite their many, *many* flaws, Thorn has a huge crush on them, since he's one of the people who managed to see their soft side. Jermo, deep, deep, deep down actually cares a lot, but they've been hurt too much by everyone, so they retaliate for the same stuff to not repeat.
Herett represents Lust At some point, she passingly heard about the cult and since it seemed like a peaceful place from the rumors (and also had hot people in it) she eagerly joined in. She's usually in the kitchen area, if not hanging around the love tent or babysitting some kids. She crushes on almost everyone, but for some reason she hates Kallamar (legit in my actual game she rejected him so hard, despite having the lustful trait and not caring prior)
Mateo represents Sloth Is perhaps the 1st or 2nd of Lambs followers, so they're absolutely not letting go of him, dudes lived 4 long lives and is tired of it, he keeps switching jobs since with age he's been slacking off more. He's currently stuck as a janitor (he hates it) He's also one of the few people who managed to befriend Jermo, his mellow, don't care attitude is somewhat comforting to them. Aside that, he gets along with almost everyone, as best as he can at least.
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Not much else to say about the gang in the third pic but Riley and Dannie are platonic bffs and were forced to babysit kids when the lamb was crusading. The lamb was a little incompetent here to give carnivores children to take care of, but thankfully they actually managed to be good with them and got used to being on nanny duty.
The capybara (Beige) is a retired teacher and adopted a little owlet to take care of (Chip)
While Femur is our below yellow cat, and that's my HC name for him. He's a gatherer here.
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b00kdiary · 3 months
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Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.
Cauldron Blessed | Azriel
Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'
Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.
Wrong.
He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.
Me, his mate- wrong.
It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.
I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.
Azriel, my mate.
Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.
And that's when I heard it.
"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."
I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.
They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.
"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."
I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.
"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."
"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."
"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."
She deserves better.
It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.
Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.
"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."
"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"
"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.
Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."
There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.
I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.
As if they had become a part of me.
It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.
Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.
And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.
I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.
I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.
Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.
My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.
I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.
And I hated myself for it.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.
And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.
He was here.
"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"
He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.
"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."
Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.
Another thing I couldn't bear to face.
"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."
As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.
His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.
"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.
"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."
My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.
I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.
"What does that mean?!"
I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.
"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.
A rejection- something he feared the most.
"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"
He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.
"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"
"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."
"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"
"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"
"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"
His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.
"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."
His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.
And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.
"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."
"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"
I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.
The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.
"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."
"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"
"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."
He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.
"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."
He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.
"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."
"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.
"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."
"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."
Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.
Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.
"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.
"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.
His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.
"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.
He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.
"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.
"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."
He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.
"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"
"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.
"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.
"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.
"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.
"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.
He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.
The Cauldron was right, so right.
----------------------------
@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen
Comment to be added to the tag-list >3
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fuckyeahisawthat · 8 months
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I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.
(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)
Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.
But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.
And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.
When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.
So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.
And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.
Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.
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theautumnpicker · 8 months
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@mystraguideme
It's his, by any rights. They'd taken an awfully long detour to find the book in the first place, and then it had been Astarion himself who had been sent to collect it, to carefully sever the connection between the pressure plate and the statues around it. Yet for all his effort— not to mention his very polite request— it was Gale who was rewarded with the treasure. And for what? It's undoubtedly just another bauble to him, the ravenous, power-mad fool.
Not that Astarion can really fault his ambition.
Of course, he showed no outward sign of his irritation. That wouldn't win him any points with their leader. Besides, he still had options. He meant to wait until they were at camp and swipe the thing while the others were eating. He even pitched his tent next to Gale's that night, watching the wizard closely as he set up all his worldly goods. Yet Gale seemed to keep the book with him, as if it were a bit of light reading he wanted to settle down with on a full belly.
So, giving up on his first plan, Asterion joined the group at supper after all, smiling and joking to disguise his poor appetite for the sort of food they have to offer. He went to bed directly afterwards, but he can't sleep, whether or not he wants to. Thoughts of the book invade his mind, almost calling out to him with the power it has to offer him. There has to be something in the pages of that tome that he can use against Cazador, or even just use for himself. Something to make his condition permanent, beyond the grace of these damned tadpoles that everyone else seems in such a rush to remove. He imagines returning home to his old master, telling him what he'd discovered and promising to share the secret— for surely even Cazador would envy his power now— only to watch him burn and writhe in the sun.
That does it. He is getting that damned book.
Astarion sits up and raises the flap of his tent, peering out and seeing to his satisfaction that all the others are asleep, or at the very least in their little beds, oblivious to all the world. He half crawls outside, keeping low to the ground in a prowl, as he steals over to Gale's tent and listens outside, ceasing to breathe as he listens for the sounds of the wizard's own breathing inside. He feels hungry suddenly, but whether he hungers for the knowledge close at hand or for the blood he can smell under Gale's skin as he stalks his quarry is hard to say.
The hunger makes him impatient. Astarion doesn't wait until he can hear that breathing slow, until he's sure Gale is fast asleep. Instead, he enters quickly and quietly, not even looking at the wizard at first as he scans the entirety of his surroundings in rapid search for his heart's desire. Even if the book remains on Gale's person now, Astarion fully intends to take it for his own.
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Text
We can use your pyromaniacal talents
Occasion: when you're camping with friends and somebody's gotta start the camp fire
Source: Lucky Sevens, 1:07
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saerotonins · 4 months
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actor!yuuji & actor!sukuna headcanons
ft. itadori yuuji and ryomen sukuna 
content warnings: fluff, itadori twins au, overall cuteness, implied x reader (separated), jjk manga spoilers, characters are aged up to 20+
wc: 2.3k (jesus christ lol)
note: i miss my little actors so much lol. also, i think this is a bit too long, my bad 😭
jjk actor au masterlist
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as twin actors:
believe it or not, jjk is like one of the roles that had them cast together 
both of them usually like to play different roles in different shows because they just don't want to be known as each other's twins
love that for them, they're so real for that
but when they were cast, they accepted it since the script and plot were interesting 
yuuji is a sweetheart inside out and sukuna is the quieter one between the two, sukuna is soft for his brother though so don't get fooled by his tough persona
yes, he is the older twin LOL and always holds it against yuuji just to be petty
"dude can you get me that can of soda?""why are you ordering your older brother around? have some shame"
yuuji just rolls his eyes but before he gets up and get it himself, sukuna will wordlessly stands up and does it anyway
checks on yuuji whenever he does intense fight scenes
both of them do the stunt themselves since they ate both so physically active
education wise, yuuji graduated as a marketing major and sukuna has a degree in physical therapy 
which explains why him and his brother always practice fight scenes together and he helps yuuji with his stance and warm ups!
it's adorable really and he's so tsundere about it too
"no not like that, put your legs this way dumbass" like that typa stuff
sukuna started off as a model but was later on casted because casting agencies thought he has that great villain face
yuuji started off as a side character and really likes acting (he is the theatre kid between the two and sukuna is the quiz bee kid, their mom is BOOKED and busy) and later on recognized because he's just THAT good
yuuji is usually a romance lead or 2nd lead and a slice-of-life guy so when fans found out he will be in an action show, they are excited!
sukuna on the other hand has been casted as a tsundere in romance shows, sometimes a bully and an antagonist in action shows, but a villain that is literally so powerful??? that is so new so his fans are anticipating 
both of them usually arrive on the set together (sukuna is the one driving btw and yuuji just sleeps during the trip)
yuuji prepares both of their bento boxes btw
sukuna loves it
he can cook, but that's it LMAO
he won't admit it but yuuji is the better cook
lowkey a picky eater so yeah
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ACTOR!SUKUNA HEADCANONS:
sukuna is the intimidating one (obv) so when him and the other casts first met + the first few readings, it was sooo awkward 
turns out he's lowkey a goofy guy
has fun with his costars and helps them with fight scenes too, gotta put that physical therapy degree into good use
both him and nanami have this silent bond because whenever they're together they just don't talk and bask in the silence as they sit, they just peace amidst their crazy schedule
also an avid toji fan so when this guy found out he's in the same show with his idol he's almost shitting bricks
let out a really loud cheer when he found out and only yuuji knew about it LOL
has a deep-rooted respect towards him and it's sooo obvious whenever toji is around
he is such a fucking fangirl
he just thinks he's so badass and feels so honored to be casted in the same show as him
feels bad that he has to beat up almost everyone 😭 he is also a sweetheart deep inside
deep inside, he's such a caring and protective brother for yuuji because even though he doesn't have any scenes to be filmed, he still joins him on set whenever time allows him
he may not show it but he's sometimes lowkey terrified about fans tearing him up into shreds whenever he kills their favorite character 
imagine sukuna dripping big sweats by the time THAT episode with [redacted] aired oh my GOD he was so fucking nervous considering their fanbase is so big
yuuji has never seen his brother THIS nervous before and he's enjoying it
luckily though, not much hate happened and most of the time it's just memes and playful banter
his ass is barely on social media LOL
in the years of his instagram existing he only has like 90+ posts or even below 😭 usually it's just promotion, being an ambassador, magazine shoots— very lowkey 
doesn't have much digital footprint and i love that for him
whenever he posts, his fans are EATING IT UP since it happens every once in a blue moon lmfao
ACTOR!SUKUNA AS YOUR PARTNER:
as tough as he looks, he actually can be quite clingy, just behind closed doors though
lowkey feels bad when he has to beat up children (LMAO) and his co-actors and asks for cuddles from you for comfort
it's actually kind of adorable 
sometimes if his schedule doesn't allow him to have time to visit you, you'll get messages like "babe i just beat up megumi :(" 
since he's not active on social media, he knows some stuff online through you or yuuji
kind of a sad reason why he doesn't go online as much is because as tough as he looks, he's just a guy scared of the hate he's going to have just because he plays a villain or antagonist most of the time
he knows it's not his fault, he just knows that some people just don't know how to separate reality from acting
especially when that scene where he had to off a certain jujutsu sorcerer actor with a huge fanbase
oh boy was he so fucking scared and ran into your arms for comfort :(
he's a softie deep inside ok
when they have to go out of town or even overseas to film, he gets incredibly homesick and misses you so much 
expect a lot of "i miss you" messages, including selfies and candid pictures that he took around the set to
practicing his lines with you is close to impossible, this guy gets all blushy and shit because you're in front of him
and since most of his lines are mean as hell, he just doesn't want to be mean to you
he wants to impress you so bad but when you're around he just becomes a little high school boy with a big crush LMAO
he's such a sweetheart deep inside oh my god
when he decides he wants to post a new photo in his ig, you're the first and only person he'll ask for opinions
so this just means that most, if not all of his posts were handpicked by you
wears your matching stuff like accessories on set and gets sad when he has to take it off while filming
when he learned that his character would have face tattoos, the first thing he did was come home to you with his face makeup on (he had to ask his makeup artist to let it stay) and imitate it on your face
i have this headcanon that sukuna knows how to draw (and is very good at it) so it takes almost no effort to draw the tattoos on your face
you two then have a mini photoshoot (aka just taking a lot of selfies) with the both of you with sukuna marks on the face
it looks so cute that he made it his lock screen
he's lowkey such a sap don't let the character he's playing fool you
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ACTOR!YUUJI HEADCANONS:
THE MAN THE MYTH THE BABY
he is literally a sunshine in or out of acting
so polite and so kind it's hard to hate him (not that he is even worth hating on)
so naturally, everyone on set loves to work with him!
unlike his brother, before acting, he doesn't really know a lot of fighting stance (he's a marketing major ffs lol) BUT ever since he was casted, he doubled up on his working out routine with the help of sukuna
even invested his time learning boxing which later on paid soooo much
can literally make everyone on set "aww" whenever his script requires him so cry or even witness a gruesome death scene *cough* nanami and nobara *cough*
during breaks, him and nobara do tiktok challenges and even those kpop challenges all the time and the crew enjoys watching them do it and the fans like it too
he does it too with choso and todo
this guy literally has 3 older brothers who are protective of him it's so cute
this man is so talented, he can cook, sing, dance, act, and is pretty smart too during his university days, it's so hard not to be in love with him
the greenest of the green flags (just like nanamin!) the girls the guys the folks LOVE him so much, literally the standard 
just like sukuna, he was fangirling so hard when he found out he's going to be in the same drama with THE nanami kento
he's such a big big BIG fan 
has a fan account of him on twitter that is pretty popular but you didn't hear that from me
it's so cute when they're together because they're literally THE father and son duo EVER
has the time of his life whenever he visits nanami and his wife's house and just chill there, sometimes brings his first-year trio besties too (both nanami and his wife don't mind at all)
aside from sukuna, he sometimes practices fight scenes with nanami too!
he is so active on social media 😭 interacts with as many fans as he can and posts all the time on ig and twitter 
has a lot of cute interactions with fans too
by extension, his account is sukuna's behind the scene account LOL
since his brother doesn't post a lot, sukuna's fans tune in to his posts and stories of sukuna behind the scenes or even just some pictures of him that he doesn't post
some of it are just pics of the brothers chilling or going out
yuuji is literally the sukuna fan's saint because of the amount of sukuna content he's giving them LOL
ok but don't get fooled by yuuji's sunshine personality, because he knows how to bite too
whenever he saw hate tweets his brother is getting for playing a villain, he is quick to respond and defend his brother
lowkey a nightmare for the PR team but they know where he's coming from
and despite sukuna telling him to just ignore it, he appreciates his little brother more than anything 
ACTOR!YUUJI AS YOUR PARTNER:
one word: ANGEL
he's literally so lover coded oh my goodness
leaves you some post-it notes on the fridge every single day before he leaves to film
if the trip goes on for days he will leave at least three long love letters for you to read when you miss him and he's busy
creates personal vlogs JUST FOR YOU so if the both of you can't facetime, you'll still know what he is up to
when he was contacted to be the main character of the show, he confided in you whether or not he should accept the offer
don't get him wrong, he is beyond grateful the people think he's capable enough to be the main lead but it makes him nervous 
this is his first main character role and the pressure of it all is heavy on his shoulders 
he asked for his brother's opinion too but he trusts you enough to talk about his feelings regarding this
of course, when you said that you'll be there with him in every step and support him all the time and do everything to keep the communication between the two of you going despite his soon-to-be hectic schedule, his heart is finally set on accepting the role
you are so proud of him! your baby finally getting the recognition he deserves? hell yeah
his busy schedule was never a barrier between the two of you, yuuji never forgets to update and call you whenever his time permits and he always appreciates every cheer you have given him
type of actor boyfie to show you off his social media platform!
he posts your dates and even hangouts with each other
his fans find it quite adorable and is in love with your whole relationship 
likes to do those couple tiktok challenges with you and post them online, you guys even have shippers lol
of course, if you're the lowkey type, yuuji would respect that and will only include you in his online shenanigans when you feel like it or allow him to post it
practicing lines with you is always exciting but never productive LOL
you both just end up giggling and laughing 
in the end you just both opt to cuddle instead (or even make our LMFAO)
yuuji just feels so lucky to have his ever-supporting partner along the way
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foone · 6 months
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It's a time gun. A gun that shoots time. Not a gun to shoot time, that's a terrible idea. Time is messed up enough as it is without some fool shooting holes in it.
No, it shoots bullets of concentrated time. How much depends on the caliber. This gun is chambered for 24 hours. (Although the weird thing is that despite anti-time definitely existing, this gun has no anti-version: there's no anti-gun of time. Instead you just load the gun of time with anti-time bullets.)
So what's it do? Well, you know the saying that time is a river? Well, rivers have splits and tributaries, where some of the stream is split off and eventually catches up with the main body.
This shoves you off into one of those, as you're given more time than the general world has. You get some time that no one else has, until you resynchronize. You're in a frozen world of no time, with only you and any other simultaneously desynchronized people able to move and interact.
This may seem powerful and useful for those hit by time bullets, but it's less useful than you'd think. Your ability to interact with the world is quite limited. And the length of the time you have is critical: 24 hours is a good amount because it's quite survivable, any longer and you're likely to die of thirst or hunger. You can't eat atemporal food or drink atemporal water. Some nasty chronomancers have been known to build time guns of months or years, meaning their victims are instantly replaced with a shriveled corpse, knowing it wasn't a quick death, but a slow and painful one in a lonely world of unfeeling statues where the sun never sets.
You can still breathe, though. That one is... Well, if you can figure out why, there's a prize from the University of Towers for you. Since the existence of the temporal aether was disproven we really have no idea why that happens.
Still, a short trip into personal time can be safe and useful, if properly prepared. Pack provisions and books and writing implements and take it in short jumps, and you can get weeks worth of writing or studying done in a single night.
Anti-time bullets are simpler, at least simpler to explain. They similarly desynchronize your personal time stream, but it results in you Not Being until the timelines align. From your perspective, that happens instantly, with a moment of the standard temporal nausea. For everyone else, you're just gone until you can make up the missing time. So it functions very much like a time jump forward. A 24-hour bullet of anti-time brings you to this time tomorrow, with no time having passed for you, due to your temporal deficit.
It seems safer, at first glance. No risk of starvation, no isolation, just a blink and it's later.
But there's always the problem of telefragging. The universe doesn't like when two things occupy the same space, and while you're gone, your former and future location are accessible. There may be nothing but air there when you return, or there may be a wagon, a person, or a rock. And the results when you return are not pretty, or even explosive.
It's been experimentally verified* by chronomancers that the end result depends on how much of the returning being overlaps with the existing matter. Less than half, and they merge, in ways that are gruesome and almost always fatal. At best, you might lose a limb or a digit due to the overlap. At worst, you're dead instantly and your body is now merged with some other object in ways that will make the funeral closed-casket, and the casket will be an unusual shape.
More than half... Well, the universe REALLY doesn't like it when matter overlaps with other matter. It explodes, violently. Very violently. One chronomancer even suggested this might be used as a weapon of war, by building a siege engine that collides a large animal like a ocean-whale with a large block of limestone, utilizing a short anti-time trip to overlap them. This idea was shot down immediately, as was the chronomancer who suggested it. She'll be officially censured when she reappears, around 28 years from now.
* the tests were performed on standard laboratory voles**, not human (or other sapient) test subjects. All experiments were done with ethics board approval and whenever possible, time loops were employed to unperform any experiments that resulted in the death of test subjects.
** rats, often used elsewhere in science, can't be used here as their natural temporal abilities interfere with the experiment. See "there is only one rat", V. Tollens, U. of T. Journal of Time, TE 436.
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flametrashira · 7 months
Note
Hi! Is your requests open? If they are, can I request something for muzan?
Sfw!
Pls
Prompt: an upper moon meeting is happening and such, and everything is going.. “smoothly”.. and then all of a sudden a loud angry yell comes, shouting Muzans name, first and last. And out comes his sweet heart wife that would never hurt anything or anyone- (the upper moons have either met her or not(Your choice!)) and she’s just going off on him, angry about something, and everyone just expecting muzan to not give a fuck but muzan ends up trying to calm his wife and saying: “this will never happen again I swear”/“I’m so sorry!”/“I promise I’ll remember!” And such—
I’d be baffled honestly-
You can choose the ending! Just a thought!
Have a great day!
Aww this is such a cute idea and I'm so into the thought of Muzan being completely whipped by his human wife. However, he is still Muzan so... he's still a bastard.
CW for language and mentions of eating people.
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Muzan was livid. His jaw clenched and his back teeth ached from being so tightly pressed together. "Why do I permit your continued existence if your only purpose is to disappoint me?"
The upper moons bickered back and forth over whose fault it was that the Ubuyashiki family yet lived, and that the blue spider lily's location remained a mystery.
Hantengu shrieked in fear and begged for his life.
"I have no excuses to make," Kokushibo murmured, hanging his head low in shame. "Ubuyashiki is hiding... skillfully."
The fool, Douma pouted. Though a master at masking, he couldn't quite suppress his smile. "I'm no good at detective work, so what can I do?"
The demon king's blood boiled. Oh, how he would love to be rid of these worthless wretches once and for all. What he wouldn't give to dispose of them as easily as he had the lower moons. "You are all—"
"MUZAN KIBUTSUJI!!"
Your voice cut through the air, sharper and more terrifying than any nichirin blade. A chill ran down Muzan's spine. For you to use that tone of voice... Gods...
Hantengu shrieked again at the sound of Muzan's full name. Douma gasped gleefully, expecting a bloodbath. But you weren't a demon, you were his wife and free to address him however you pleased. And it was a power you wielded efficiently in times like this.
You were sweet and soft, his pretty human wife, his only comfort and solace in the midst of all this disappointment. He had no idea what he could have done to upset you but his blood ran cold.
"Hiiii!" Douma waved as you approached.
"Don't even fucking think about it," Muzan hissed at the second upper moon before turning to face you with a sweet smile. "Yes, my lily?"
"What the hell is this?" you held up a newspaper and jabbed your finger at a column begging for help in the ongoing search for a missing man... a loving and devoted husband named Tsukihiko.
Shit.
"Ah... my love," he went to place a hand on your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I-I have no idea..."
You arched an eyebrow and turned the page to the second part of the article... which included a photo of Muzan disguised as a human, alongside his fake wife Rei and her little daughter.
"Let me guess," you asked, rolling the newspaper into a tube as though you planned to smack him on the nose with it. "You have a human doppelganger?"
"I... no... that's me."
"And you're missing. You told me you'd given her closure. You swore to me that you'd treat Rei kindly. But you just ran away again and let her think you were dead, didn't you? It says here you put them in a cab and told them you would be home after you had finished your business in Tokyo. But you never returned."
Muzan glanced down at the upper moons, who were watching with great interest. How he wished the ground would swallow him whole. He'd lived for a thousand years, committed atrocities beyond human comprehension, and yet seeing the disappointment on your sweet face was more than he could bear.
You continued your chastisement. "I bet she's worried sick... and the child... Gods, Muzan. I should write to her. I'll tell her you found someone new and she should move on. Could that work?"
He didn't dare admit the whole truth: that particular tie to his mortal disguise had been tied up. Quite securely, in fact. The newspaper was a few days old. Rei and her daughter weren't around to search for him anymore. The case would soon grow cold.
"That won't be necessary, my d—"
"Oh... Muzan..." There was a new level of disappointment in your voice now, one which made his heart sink. "You didn't eat them did you?"
Fuck.
How did you know him so well? You always knew just how to read him, how to make him sweat. But you also knew how to please him, how to make him feel loved and wanted for himself for the first time in a millennia. So he didn't mind the talking to, as uncomfortable as it was. "N-no..."
You turned to Nakime, who was watching the scene from a platform above, tapping nervously on the head of her biwa. "Nakime, if she's still alive, send me to this woman's home. I need to talk to he—"
"I did it!" a cheerful voice called from below. Douma stood, sheepishly rocking on his heels. "I ate her. I'm sorry. I saw the newspaper article and she just looked so sweet, and you know how much I enjoy the taste of pretty ladies..."
Muzan was rendered still and silent. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Your pretty eyes turned to him and he did the only thing he could think to do... he shrugged and lied. "I was about to punish him when you walked in."
"Oh..." You looked down sheepishly, twisting the rolled up newspaper between your hands. "Douma..."
"My bad!" he called up with a nervous giggle. "I just couldn't help myself. It's my nature, you know. A man's gotta eat!"
You nodded and turned back to Muzan, the look of regret and tenderness in your eyes almost enough to bring him to his knees. "I'm sorry, my love. I should have trusted you."
"It's alright." He reached down and tenderly cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose to make you smile. "Run along now, and I'll find you in a little while, okay? We'll spend some time together."
"Okay," you gazed into his carmine eyes and smiled. "I love you Mumu-bear."
He glanced down at the upper moons, who seemed to have lost interest now that the conflict was over. Either that or they were very effective at feigning disinterest. It didn't matter. Let them know you called him Mumu-bear. He'd tear their heads off if they so much as snickered. "I love you too."
As you hurried back toward your wing of the infinity fortress, he pushed out a breath and raked his fingers through his curls, casting a look down at Douma. "I owe you one."
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batfleshh · 21 days
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Ok but,,,, bandit!reader who’s touch starved and just melts when cowboy!price touches him, even if it’s not the friendliest type of touch
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Cowboy!Price X Bandit!M!Reader
!! NSFW WARNING, not proofread, cws at cut!!
Cowboy!Price who gives you a slap on the wrist for some of the minor things you do that get reported by to law, like stealing or scams. Most of the time he’ll explain that you’re too slippery to catch, but he’ll get you next time! But he knows in the back of his mind just how he’ll take care of you never learning your lesson. This man just can’t bring himself to punish you, the most he’ll do is not let you bounce on his cock. But if it is more extreme, like full blown horse theft or assault, he’ll make sure you know to change your behavior when he’s done with you.
Bandit!R who never learns when he gets in trouble, only pouting at the way Price warns him about it every single time. But sometimes when he resorts to his more extreme punishments, you’ll be put in your place for a while. One of the main things he’ll do is just, not touch you when you’re both alone. After a long day of playing cat and mouse for the authorities, he’s fed up for how much of a fool you actually take him for when you’re out getting away with things. Sometimes you just forget who owns who in this relationship, and you forget to ask when your mind needs to be reset.
Cowboy!Price who uses your neediness against you, resulting in your mind slipping into a more submissive headspace when you’re both alone. He likes when he’s in control, keeping up this whole “authority figure” feeling kind of makes him feel more powerful when he’s around you. He loves how much you try to earn his praise and affection, even resulting in not giving you any kind of affirmation for days on end just to watch you melt when you receive it. It’s a weird, sadistic pleasure of his, but he can’t help himself.
Bandit!R who whines for Prices attention, doing whatever you can to get that man to give you the simplest of praises when you’re with him. You’re not sure what kind of spell he has over you, but the feeling you get when his kind words and showings of affection hit, it you makes you feel euphoric. You need him to know how good you can be, and you need him to know how willing you are for him to know.
cw!! for small boot stuff, needy reader, praise, degradation n name calling, spit as lube, unprotected sex, sub!bottom reader, dacryphilia, blowjobs, cockwarming, affirmations and aftercare bc I’m a sucker for a happy sub im sorry guys :(
You’re stationed on your knees in front of John, your hands fidgeting as you wait patiently for his orders. Your mouth feels dry as you swallow for what feels like the millionth time, staring up into his dark eyes as you watch the gears turn in his head. He nods his head at you in confirmation, you immediately reaching your hands up to unbuckle his belt. You whine as your eyes trace the outline of his hard on before your hands get to, quickly moving to pull down his undergarments. You grab at his cock slowly, licking at the tip with your tongue. The taste of the pre leaking from his tip is enough for your mind to start to fog up, immediately forgetting everything that has happened that day, or between you two in the past for that matter.
Price groans as you slowly start to take his length into your mouth, knowing full well you won’t stop yourself until you reach the bushel of hair that rests on his pelvis. He lets you do what you want for right now, letting you slowly sink into your own headspace. His foot slowly inches forward, the toe of his boot nudging against your own excitement in your pants. You moan at the feeling, unknowingly moving your hips to grind against his boot. You try to stay focused on sucking him off, your hands coming up to rest of his legs for support. You make eye contact with him, batting your eyelashes at him.
“You’re already so excited for me, boy. Wonder how eager you’ll be to take this inside you, hm?” He talks to you with a rough edge to his voice, chuckling at the dumb look you’re giving him. He finds it so cute when you decide to let go of your tough personality only when you’re beneath him. “Tsk, wonder how I got lucky with such a floozy.” He spits down at you, his harsh words only egging you on more to do better, choking slightly on his cock as you begin to suck on him faster. Price lets out rough noises as he grabs at the back of your head, shoving your mouth onto his cock. He releases down your throat, smirking at the way you cough and gag, his release dripping from your tongue when he pulls out of your mouth.
Tears prickle in your eyes at his lack of words, trying to cover up the way his lack of praise is affecting you. You watch as his hand gives his cock a few lazy strokes, thinking to himself. “Get up on the bed, boy.” He orders you, watching as you scramble to kick off your pants and lay on your back on the bed, a white dress shirt the only thing lingering on your body when Price moves up to you. “Already know what position I like ya in, huh whore?” He sneers at you, a mock disgusted tone in his voice. You can only nod, tears still brimming in your eyes as you look up at him, his hands moving to pull your hips against him. John wastes no time in spitting on his fingers, wanting to be nice enough to prep you.
As he slides his fingers into you, you try to distract yourself from the dull pain of them entering you. Your breathing begins to slowly pick up, searching around for something to comfort you. You whimper as you grab for his free hand, squeezing it. Rather than him pulling away, Price moves his hand up to your chest, playing with the closed buttons on your shirt. You pout at him, his hand then moving to your face. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, watching your mouth open with a small moan as he continues to work you open with his fingers. He pushes his thumb into your mouth slowly, watching as saliva that was previously pooling in your mouth is now escaping onto his thumb. He doesn’t mind it, almost getting off to how gone you looked, how much you seemed to trust him in this moment.
He slowly removes his fingers from your entrance, removing his thumb from your mouth and giving his cock a few good strokes. You whimper embarrassingly loud as he pushes his tip into you, beginning with slow, but fair thrusts. You’re still not completely satisfied, whimpering more from the praise he’s withholding from you. He notices this, smirking to himself when he pushes his cock further into you, watching as your eyes shoot open. With the water brimming in your eyes now slowly falling down your cheeks, you begin to whine, trying to keep yourself together. Trying to keep your composure, in order to feel like you haven’t failed him.
But instead of a harsh reaction, you feel warm, gentle hands caressing your thighs. You sniffle as you wrap your legs around his waist, gentle sobs leaving you as you try to keep it together. Price coos at you, finally deciding to let you have a nice time. He moves his hands up to grab at yours, putting them on his shoulders. “Thas a good boy, fuck. Such a good damn boy f’me.” He curses into your ear, fucking into you faster. The praise makes you lose your mind, your cock leaking onto your stomach as an orgasm builds up inside you, your breath quickening. Price feels your hands dig into his back slightly, groaning at the way you’re just so desperate for him. He picks up the speed of his thrusts, watching as tears stream down your face, saliva leaving your lips as you begin to babble out words.
Price can only hush you, kissing lightly at your freshly tear stained cheeks. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He praises you, grunting as he feels his own orgasm building. You begin to whine and moan louder, your own release building up with his. John moves one of his hands down to stroke at your leaking cock, soft kisses being planted on your lips as he does so. The whole thing is making you crazy, and the sweet noise you make when you cum on his hand is enough to make him slam his hips against yours, releasing inside of you. He collapses on top of you, rolling onto his back and keeping his cock plugged into you. He lets you keep his cum inside you for now, making a mental note to give you a good cleaning later. He finally wraps his arms around you, the feeling making your body feel like mini explosions.
You smile tiredly as you nuzzle up into his neck, a blanket being pulled up to cover the bottom half of your slowly. You whimper gently as Price whispers sweet word into your ear, keeping you feeling happy with his word of praise. “There’s my good boy.” He says to you softly, kissing away at your face. Sure, the dynamic you and Price display is fun. But when you’re cuddled up close to him, feeling his warmth again yours, you sometimes wish this was all this was. But for now, you keep that to yourself, resting your head on his chest or neck. You would love to stay like this forever.
~ ★
It’s currently 3:42am and I’m tired as shit, gn mwah
Tags: @rodolfoparras hi :3 <3
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