#i'll do another attempt with more references

[jazeswhbhaven]

Okay sooo I'm an agares & belephegor Stan so I would absolutely love an fic with them (either one of them or both but separately) where they praise the hell out of you and even adore your chubbier body while going at it, if its possible, wishing you an nice day and thanks in advance for your response🐇🤍

Thank you so much for sending in this request 🤍 I'm unsure if your anon emoji is this little guy 🐇 but I'll refer to as such until you correct me otherwise. Also I appreciate you for waiting!

I decided to do little ficlet/drabbles for both of them, since I was sitting here like, uhhhh would either of them praise you for anything omg 😭 but here we goooo

"That's it...keep goin'...don't you stop now."

As you shift your knees on the conveniently placed pillow that Vassago set down earlier, you can't help but look up at Agares with tears forming in your eyes. He had your hair in his hand, mouth stretched out with his cock about halfway down your throat while you struggled to keep yourself gagging on it's size.

Every day you've been helping Vassago tend to this devil's needs around the clock. Cooking for him, checking his food if it had been poisoned, getting correct and direct instructions from Beleth for any missions, the list was endless. It was all gearing up to this moment alone with him, as he finally trusted you with his body, to service him in any shape or form. It didn't matter how long it took, the look of pleasure in his eyes enough for you to know you were fulfilling your role.

"Just look at 'cha. Lips softer and prettier than a peach. Them cheeks look nice too." He stops you mid-suck, his thumb tracing your facial features with care. "You like tastin' me?"

You can't answer, mouth still full of his swollen cock as spit dribbles down your chin. Instead you blink, and attempt to hum positively to let him know you did. It must have been the amount of oranges he consumed, the sweet, acidic flavor filling your mouth as pre leaked from the tip of him. He smirks with closed eyes, taking your hair back into his palm as he slowly thrusts.

You watch him tilt his head back, gasping and biting his lips until both of his large yet delicate hands were on the back of your head. He urged you to take in more of him, and you did with little to no effort as your lips met the base of his groin. Everything about this man was to perfection, even with how well groomed and trimmed his pubic hair was, silky and soft as it brushed against your nose.

For a few moments you close your eyes to take in his light musky scent. Next, you feel his hips pull back, anticipating that he'd snap them forward. The moment didn't come, but instead, your body lifts into the air, as he places you on the table nearest to the both of you. Before you could ask him what was happening, he dips into a squat, eyes gazing at you with a flushed face of desire and hunger.

"My turn, now..."

You tremble as he nuzzles his face against your thighs, his lips planting soft kisses on your supple skin. His fingers squeeze your full hips, as if he were checking you like he does his ripened oranges.

"Your body, your scent, I reckon a man could die happy from ya." Agares says slowly, taking a small amount of thigh into his mouth and biting down just enough to make you whimper. "Soft, invitin', like I picked ya from the best garden..." He continued to plant kisses up your thigh, reaching your center, his tongue dragging across it deliberately slow. His reaction surprises you, his moan echoing throughout the room as he goes back for another taste. His tongue explores even more of you, dipping into your entrance as he moans between slurps. You could feel his saliva, coating your thighs combined with your arousal while the table beneath you stayed dry. Not one drop of you was wasted, Agares moaning and making a meal out of you without shame. He stops, his gaze meeting yours as he loudly licks his lips.

"I need more, and you ain't 'bout to stop me 'til I'm satisfied."

Another morning, and long afternoon running files and other random office supplies around the palace of Niflheim. You had only been a volunteer for two days, as one of the other devils had to take emergency sick leave. After a viral infection was ruled out, you were allowed to take their place, Beleth showing you the ropes of the role and leaving himself open in case you needed help. Though you didn't need it, the tasks simple enough for you to remember and follow to the finest detail.

Though your hard work blended in with your coworkers, you stood out amongst the rest for how the uniform you wore seemed to fit you more snug than usual, as if on purpose. You didn't mind it, because it wasn't as if you couldn't move about. It was just a little more tedious to pull your shirt down, or rebutton yourself to avoid flashing everyone in the workplace. What you didn't mind were how your pants fit perfectly around your full hips and waist.

And it wasn't just you who noticed.

"Oi, newbie. Get over here."

The King of Niflheim, Belphegor lazily blinked, leaning against the wall as he fixed his eyes on you. Beleth did warn you that he might request things that only you as a human could do for him, but you weren't exactly sure what could include. As you stop in front of him ready and alert he smirks, slowly looking at you up and down before meeting your confused expression.

"Uh huh. I reckon you'll do fine as my new body pillow."

Just like that, you were in his room, standing around waiting for instruction as the slothful devil king clicked his tongue in annoyance. He seemed to be fiddling with his sheets, messing them up more than they were before he sat down and patted the mattress.

"I ain't got all day." The stern tone in his voice had you on edge, of course you knew he was like this already, but impressions were everything. All you had to do was be a pillow, right? You could even sleep with him as a break. You could do this.

While positioning yourself on the bed as Belphegor ordered, it doesn't matter as he flops back into the mattress, pulling you into his embrace as he sniffs your hair and the nape of your neck. Your body temperature rises, and to his delight it's exactly what he wanted. The room was silent for a while, only his deep breaths filling your ears, and his cock rubbing against you through his underwear.

"Soft, fluffy, warm...yer body is damn good for this." He mumbles while twisting his hips and locking his legs around yours. "Not movin' too much too. Just like I want."

His fingers traced your folds and curves, either delicately or with a firm grab of flesh in his palm. He left kisses on your back and shoulders, as you try your best to hold still and fulfill your role as his body pillow. But everything he was doing felt so good, the way he whispers these praises about your body being perfect for him made you feel relaxed and appreciated. Mistakenly, a soft moan left your lips igniting the fire that was slowly building in him.

"The best part 'bout ya, I ain't gotta make a hole." You feel his smirk against your skin, his hand finding purchase on the outside of your pants while effortlessly tugging at the waistband. Wanting to help you undo your zipper and shimmy your hips to allow your pants to roll down your hips the best you could, but surprisingly, he does the rest for you by tearing the fabric like paper. His fingers rub against the wetness that's formed on your underwear, making you squirm a little against his touch.

That's when you feel a breeze hit the sensitive area of your entrance, the garment pulled aside and the tip of his pierced cock rubbing against you. Each time he teased on entering, he'd pull back but slow and deliberate as if to make you go crazy. Finally, he slips in, only an inch before using his arms to pull you closer so he fits inside you completely without having to move his hips.

"Fuck, so warm...makin' me sleepy..." Belphegor mumbles as he keeps you there, falling asleep as you cockwarm him.

note: thank you anon for waiting, everyone for interacting/reading! reminder that i'm currently not taking requests but you're welcome to pop in the inbox with any other comments and blurbs!

[vasito-de-leche]

I'm so excited you're interested in kpop demon hunters! Could you possibly write some headcanons for Mira (romantic or just general analysis, whatever works best for you!)

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS MIRA - General Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis on Mira and other related things.

anon you dont knwo how much i adore mira shes literally just like me fr shes the moment shes the love of my life shes SOOOOOOO good!!! head in hands kicks my feet starts screaming incoherently oh my god okay

I went with general headcanons so I could start setting the ground for some future posts about her and the rest of the huntrix! feel free to send another ask if you want those relationship headcanons!

On the subject of family and Mira's role within Huntrix.

The movie clearly states that Mira is the visual and lead dancer, so that's not what I'll be tackling in this point--instead it's about the role she fills in her dynamic with Rumi and Zoey, her current family.

The three of them contrast and compliment each other very well, and we can see that they're united by themes of belonging; all three have struggled with finding a place or people that will accept them wholeheartedly, and even after finding each other continue to deal with the consequences of the way they were raised.

While we get the full context of Rumi's background, we don't get that privilege with Mira and Zoey--these two have only one or two moments in which their respective backgrounds are addressed, and most of the time they're left up for interpretation. In Zoey's case, it's a single moment in their Golden music video, which might imply that she's a child of divorce (explaining why she grew up in Burbank and later returned to Korea).

And when it comes to Mira, we get two family pictures and her part in "Golden," which references the very same family picture from the very beginning. She's wearing similar clothes as her family pictures and the dancers from the "Golden" music video are obviously there to represent her family.

We can gleam out a few details about this. She has an older brother, a father and a mother, all three wearing muted and more commonly "acceptable" outfits. The most standard family one could think of.

A fun way I like to interpret these two initial portraits is the way Mira is positioned; in her younger portrait she's sitting on a tall chair, taller than her brother, dressing in a proper and sensible outfit that was most likely picked for her if her expression and body language is anything to go by. Almost as if presenting her as a prop, the idea of what a good child should look like.

Compare this to the second picture; the stark white of her shirt sets her apart right away, and she's still sitting, only this time she's doing it by her own terms and now there's no one to prop her up like a doll. Instead, she's lower than her entire family, a visual metaphor for how they may have treated her as "the black sheep" the second she strayed away from their standards.

I like to headcanon that she's no longer in contact with any of them, and that neither party has made any real attempts at reaching out to the other. This isn't to say that she's fully moved on from her family and their influence, but she strikes me as someone who's fought so hard to love herself despite everything that she simply won't allow anyone to trample her identity. I can absolutely see at least someone from her biological family trying, if only once or twice, just to see if she's "calmed down enough to come back." Or looking her up online to see what she's up to.

From reading various interviews involving the directors, Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans, one of the themes they wanted to portray in the movie was the duality of women--their elegance and power, but also their flaws and less picture perfect lives, hence the silly and goofy moments but also Hunters' song focusing on hiding ones flaws, leading to repression.

We see the pressure of expectation and tradition wear all of Huntrix down in various ways and, in Mira's case, it manifested as her doubling down on the things that set her apart, a confidence to be herself no matter what--at the cost of pushing others away because of said confidence and her "jagged edges."

But when Gwi-ma's voice reaches Mira, the one thing that causes her to fully break away from Huntrix is the concept of family; the idea that she doesn't deserve one.

This alone should speak volumes about how at her core, regardless of the confidence Mira displays to be able to live her truth, she's still someone who wants to be understood and accepted. She's still human.

The way Mira speaks is monotone and flat, the way she presents herself is sharp and aggressive, but she's the first one to notice Rumi's secrets. In her words, she's "an expert at reading people," and I like to attribute this to her upbringing--it becomes very easy to know what others are feeling or thinking when you're often the focus of so much negative attention, when you have no choice but to accept that you will always be on the spotlight simply by being different.

What makes Mira and Zoey raise their weapons at Rumi after she's revealed to have patterns is not the fact that she's a demon, but the fact that she's lied to them for so long. To me, this goes hand in hand with the way Rumi argues with Mira, by bringing up "her insecurities," because the concept of a found family matters so much to Mira.

It's very easy to chalk down Mira as the cool, edgy and aloof of the trio, but the movie makes sure to emphasize that these girls are more than the superficial roles they've been assigned--both as idols and as hunters. Within Huntrix, I like to see Mira as the one who brings up the harder topics, the conversations no one wants to have, to say the things everyone is afraid to say because someone has to do it. Not out of malice, but a genuine care for Rumi and Zoey, and the Huntrix as a band.

On the subject of Celine and becoming a hunter.

I'm prefacing this by saying that I do not like or agree with any portrayals of Celine as a one-dimensional, horrible mother to Rumi.

I believe that is a massive disservice to another theme the story is trying to tell about how trauma leads people to pass on harmful mindsets to their loved ones, and how those future generations might be the ones forced to break the cycle of violence to heal. The problem wasn't Celine, but the pressure ALL hunters had to live through concealing their flaws for the greater good.

So if you dislike Celine as a whole, please feel free to skip this section!

Celine gives little information about hunters as a whole, only mentioning that in each generation, three women are chosen to protect the Honmoon--we know that Rumi was pretty much expected to follow this path, since Huntrix was BUILT around her because of the promise Celine made to her mother.

But as far as I know, there's no information on why or how Mira and Zoey became hunters as well. So it's free real estate until details come out, if they ever do!

I feel it makes sense to have Huntrix be formed like any other K-Pop group, with a bunch of trainees and a handful just making it to their debut and whatnot? But it feels too impersonal just like that. I'd assume that Celine, as the only active Sunshine Sister we know of, would at least have a hand in the process to veto or check over potential candidates to work with Rumi.

Not just as a mentor and prominent figure in the industry, but as a mother trying to find girls that her adoptive daughter could connect with--this is based on her relationship with Rumi's biological mother, and how Celine cared so much for a fellow Sunshine Sister that she went on to raise Rumi, EVEN with all the biases she holds towards demons. If there was such little regard for Rumi, if her biases towards demons had truly won, Rumi wouldn't even be here in the first place.

There is an emphasis on harmony for the hunters that can't be ignored and as a seasoned hunter I believe Celine knows this and could've been the one to pick Zoey and Mira from the other trainees to join Huntrix, because she saw that very same loneliness Rumi carries in them. There is also the way Mira and Zoey perfectly mimic Celine's usual hunter speech, and how they immediately know that seeking her for help is not an option. So she's clearly been around enough.

When it comes to their relationship with Celine, I think Celine doesn't necessarily have to be a mother figure for neither Mira or Zoey, but a strong figure in their lives that they respect, since it's thanks to her that the three were able to meet.

This isn't to say that Celine paved the way for Zoey and Mira to be successful without putting in the work. I like to headcanon that Mira specifically came from a dancing career and naturally switched to music along the way, on one hand because this is something that she loves and on the other because it's the very same careers that were considered too outlandish for a girl like her, according to her families.

I also imagine that the news about ... Hunters and the concept of killing demons and all would have to be brought up relatively soon, at least prior to their debut for sure.

It's very fun to imagine that Celine herself trained all of them to fight, helping them once their unique weapons developed and whatnot, since the first trio of hunters had an entirely different set than Huntrix. This is an entirely new train of thought, but I really like how Huntrix's weapons match them; in Mira's case, she's the tallest and lankiest member, so she gets a tall and lanky weapon to match. It's just very cute to me.

Batch of headcanons I couldn't fit anywhere else.

Contrary to popular belief, Mira was the least bothered by Rumi's secrecy and need for accomodation (we see near the beginning of the movie that Rumi has her own separate dressing room to conceal her patterns). Out of everyone, Mira understands the need to have privacy the most. I saw in one interview that one of Mira's voice actresses believes Mira is way more patient that she lets on, and I agree!

She's bisexual, but hasn't come out to anyone but Huntrix. Not out of shame, but because she's a naturally private person when it comes to her personal life. This contrasts Zoey who is out, loud and proud as a way to make her fans feel seen and is known to oversharing on social media. And then you have Rumi who keeps skirting around the topic because of her repression issues.

Mira is the type of person who binges asian dramas, and she will ramble about the latest episodes to Rumi and Zoey over dinner. She also knows exactly which ones to recommend to people that will make them bawl their eyes out with how crazy good she is at reading others. I like to think at some point she gets the chance to star in one of her favorite shows for a minor role.

[bc-dc-vibing]

Weird looking cats

The wretched beasts from the itty bitty au by @jube-art @salparadiselost and @spookyprime

i think they're so neat

drawings referenced for jason and tim

[luvcaleb]

I'LL BE GENTLE.

nsfw (18+). includes first time, virginity loss, unprotected sex, porn with feelings, caleb is a virgin loser who pretends he's a sex god but is actually ready to cum the moment he slides it in, cunnilingulus, lots of nicknames, belly bulge because caleb is huge, creampie (because i firmly believe he's into breeding). likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

”Hng... is it all in yet?”

The question almost sounds silly, reminiscent of the times you went on trips with Caleb and you'd ask him if you were there yet every five minutes. But you can't laugh now because you feel like your body's about to split apart, filled to the brim as Caleb breaches your cunt as slowly as he can manage.

He's gripping each side of your waist, his restraint felt through the faint trembling of his fingers. Be patient, he chants in his mind, sweat dripping down his temples. If you're not careful, you're going to hurt her.

But all that leaves his mouth is, “Just half. You're too tight, pipsqueak. Feels like you're about to cut my dick off.”

“Half?!” you exclaim in disbelief. You do know for a fact that Caleb is quite... big. Not that you have a frame of reference — this is the first time you've seen one, most definitely the first time you've ever taken one, but knowing you only have half inside you when you feel full is. Kind of making you crazy. Just a bit.

You hit him in the chest with a loose fist. “This is your fault. You're too big.”

Caleb laughs weakly, sounding like the wind is knocked out of him. “You're blaming me for something I can't control now?”

“Yes, I am. How do you even— walk around with that thing? I don't think that's a normal size.” You're blabbering. All you've said thus far is probably the most unsexy thing Caleb's ever heard, nothing like the dirty talk in the porn DVDs under Caleb's childhood bed that he insists were from his high school friends and he didn't watch any of it.

Even so, the desire in Caleb's eyes doesn't dwindle. He leans down to caress your cheek, the softness in his expression making your heart race. “Well, too bad. This is the only one you're getting.” He traces the line of your jaw, peppering kisses over the column of your neck. “You can't do this with anyone but me, right?”

It isn't a question, and Caleb certainly won't take no for an answer.

“...Caleb, you say the craziest things someti— ?!” You squeak as Caleb starts rubbing your clit in tight circles, sucking new marks onto your collarbone. You loosely grasp his flicking wrist, conflicted between pushing his hand away or pulling it closer. “Don't— do that so suddenly— ah!”

“I know you can take me in. You just have to try harder,” he murmurs to your skin, feeling your walls spasm around his cock with every flick of his fingers. Watery noises soon follow his motions, embarrassingly audible along with the whimpers you try and fail to hide. His heart squeezes in his chest when you hold onto his back tighter, letting out small ‘ah-ah-ah’s that send heat directly to his cock.

“Caleb...” you mutter weakly, dazed eyes staring at the ceiling. “Caleb...!” you gasp with more urgency when he changes the rhythm, rubbing faster as he slowly slides another inch inside your pussy.

“Just a bit more, baby...” Caleb hisses as you engulf him in your warmth, walls clenching around him wetly. “Yeah, that's it... just like that... mn, good girl...”

Finally, you feel his pelvis press against your skin, the entirety of his thick cock inside you. You let out a shuddering breath, fingers running through Caleb's sweat-matted hair, attempting to adjust to the new sensation of fullness.

The feeling of being full is indescribable; it feels new, perhaps a bit uncomfortable, and yet it's also fulfilling, knowing you're connected with the person you've always longed for in the most intimate way possible.

Caleb's panting with the exertion of holding back, his hand cupping your cheek, tenderly swiping over the soft skin with his thumb. “Do you feel any pain?”

You shake your head, leaning to his warm palm. “No, I just feel... a lot right now.”

Caleb smiles in relief, pecks a kiss on your forehead, and sucks in a breath when his gaze trails lower on your body. His hand on your waist moves to splay on your stomach, the direct pressure evoking a sharp “ah!” out of your lips.

“N... no way...” you stare at the faint bulge in both mortification and arousal. “Is that— your—”

Your stomach is... not supposed to look like that. It isn't, right? But Caleb is looking at you with such awe and wonder, tracing the highest point of the bulge on your stomach, the tendrils of desire swirling in his gaze darkening further.

Slowly, Caleb pulls out until only the tip remains inside, and you watch as your stomach flattens with his movement. “Fuck,” he says with feeling. “Please tell me I can move.”

No, you can't, you want to say. Just the sight of him filling you up — in the literal sense of the word — is overwhelming. But you know Caleb is holding back for your sake. Always has been.

Has held back probably before you could even remember, playing the role of an older brother figure looking out for his reckless sister to suppress the feelings he's long learned to ignore. Has held back every time a boy looked at you with lovestruck eyes in high school, staring at the love letter on your desk but never commenting on it. Has held back whenever you told him you were going to a mixer your friends cajoled you into joining, zipping up your dress for the night and reminding you to call him when you were done so he could come pick you up.

He has been holding back even just a while ago, patiently stretching you open with his fingers as he kissed away the apprehension in your eyes, often asking you if it hurt and if you wanted to stop. And if you said yes, he really would; he'd wash you up, carry you to the dining table, and cook up a midnight snack for you before cuddling to sleep. You know that because Caleb would do anything for you.

So now, with the veins on his arms pronounced from the strain of gripping the sheets, his eyes attentively looking at your expression for any signs of pain, you can only say one thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Fuck me, Caleb.”

There's a hitch of a breath. And then he slides home.

Each thrust of his hips is pronounced with wet plaps, obscenely loud while slick dribbles out of your cunt, pooling into the sheets beneath you. His cock is covered in your arousal, glistening in your wetness, and he pounds into you again and again, watching your cunt cling to him every time he pulls out.

“You seriously...” Caleb groans, his loving gaze tinted with hungry desire. A delighted thrill runs through him each time you call his name sweetly, nails raking down lines on his back, the cutest noises leaving your mouth. “I wanted to treat you gently, but I can't hold back if you say it like that.”

He's dreamed of this for a long time, as far back as a teenager hitting puberty. The prettiest girl on his bed, disheveled by his doing, clinging around him as he pounds her to the mattress, able to take her however he wants and allowed to whisper the overflowing affection he feels without needing to hide it anymore.

It was once a fleeting dream. Just something he knows will never come true, so long as your relationship doesn't change. At one point, your relationship even almost seemed irreparable.

But you stubbornly pulled him back to you. Even when it hurt you. Even when he was content to look after you from a distance. Even when he accepted that no matter how much he wanted you, his love would never mean anything if you didn't love him back.

But you allowed him this much. You allowed him to be in such close proximity, to shower you with affectionate kisses, to lick up your tears. You gave yourself to him, your firsts, your heart, your love.

It's more than he ever hoped for.

“Mine...” he mumbles to himself, kissing at every expanse of skin he can reach. “You're really mine...”

Caleb's hands roam over your curves, caressing your body with care, plucking away at all your sensitive spots. A smattering of red marks appear with every press of his lips, and he never gets enough of seeing them bloom.

“C-Caleb, don't suck there... Everyone's going to see them,” you whine, trembling with the pleasure. His hips never stop driving forward, aimed at the spot that makes your toes curl, your walls squeezing down on him. It's hot, wet, and so damn good to feel you gushing around him, soaked in your warmth.

“Let them see.” He sucks another mark beneath your jaw. Satisfaction curls deep in his chest when he thinks how it'll peek through the collar of your hunter's uniform. “It'll drive away the pests.”

It's not something he'd say on an ordinary day. But restraint slips from his fingers each time you indulge him, and this time is no different.

“Ah, mmh, haa...!”

“Does it feel good when I thrust shallowly like this?” He presses insistently against a spot that has you writhing, clawing at his back. “Or you like being fucked deep?”

He sheathes himself in one go, the sound of his balls smacking against your ass absolutely filthy. Squealing, you cream around him, fresh spurts of slick soaking his cock. “Fuck,” you gasp, grasping at his broad shoulders for purchase.

Caleb grins. “Yeah,” he breathes out, feeling your wetness drip down his thighs, “that's what I thought.” And he does it again.

Plap, plap, plap. The slap of skin on skin continues to ring out, each time wetter than the last. You're trying to bury yourself under the covers, but Caleb certainly doesn't mind the mess. Revels in it, even, watching the glistening slick coat him further.

“Come on, now, don't hide your face,” he coos, picking up the blanket you've taken to hiding your face with. “I want to see you.”

“Mmgh... no way...” your voice is trembling, teary eyes looking up at him in a show of upset. “I'm— ah— making a weird face right now...!”

“No, you're not.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. Your closed eyes. The tip of your nose. “You're so cute. The most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on. So don't try to hide, yeah? Let me see you.”

“Ah, hn, Caleb, that's— !”

“Feels good here?”

“Yes, yes, right there! Ohh...”

Caleb groans, “You just squeezed me so tight.” He licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts, tongue swirling around a nipple, all the while never leaving his eyes on your pleasured expression. When he grinds against a spongy spot, you jolt underneath him, a loud cry of his name spilling from your lips.

So cute so cute so cute, the desperate chant in his mind continues to say, his hips tirelessly driving forward to plunge into your warmth. You sound so sweet, gasping and moaning uncontrollably, crying out for his cock.

“Caleb,” you sob, trying to string together a coherent thought. “Is it just me or, mmph, you became even bigger?”

Caleb laughs, almost apologetic. A peck lands on your jaw. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can't help it.”

You hit your fist on his back. “Help it! I think I'll split into two if there's even just an extra centimeter in me...!”

“Even if you tell me that much...” he hisses through gritted teeth, trying to keep his head clear in spite of your walls spasming against him, hot and wet and so slick he hears every move he makes. “Mm, fuck... You feel too good inside, baby... I've been trying not to cum since we started...”

He buries his face to your neck, breathing in your scent. You shiver, his warm breath tickling your skin, thrusts slowing but hitting deep all the same. “A-are you close, Caleb?”

“I'm doing all I can so I won't be, pips.”

“Well, I...” you swallow, weaving your fingers through his hair. “I don't mind if you... cum first.”

“No.” His hands find your thighs, gripping at the soft flesh to spread your legs wider. Your folds are an enticing color, sucking around his cock, and he has to bite his lip to avoid letting out a pathetic moan. “This night is about you. I want to make you feel good.”

He sits up, and you almost protest when he pulls out, the gaping emptiness nearly leaving you cold. “Wait—”

“Shh,” Caleb leans down, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. “Leave everything to me.”

He pools saliva at the tip of his tongue, letting it drip down your cunt. He smears it messily around your clit with his thumb, rubbing and prodding, watching your face twist in pleasure with a hooded gaze.

“Caleb, you— haa!”

Whatever you're about to say is interrupted by a scream when Caleb begins to lick, his tongue lapping at your pussy almost hungrily. He swirls it around your little bud, encloses it around with his lips to suck. You begin pulling his hair when he dips his tongue inside your hole, drinking up the juices that overflow and drip down his chin.

Caleb has never looked so disheveled before, sweat dotting his skin and almost looking feverish. He looks drunk between your legs, utterly intoxicated by your taste, lapping up everything he can collect on his tongue. He doesn't mind suffocating like this, his nose buried in your scent, sucking your essence. He certainly doesn't mind it when you start grinding on his face, pulling him even closer, nearly leaving him with no room to breathe. His cock feels close to bursting at the sounds you make alone.

“Ohh, that feels so good, Caleb! Mm...!”

“Shit, you really like this, huh...”

Caleb doubles his efforts, plunging his fingers into your cunt alongside his tongue. He spreads your hole, digs his digits deep, thoroughly pleased when your wetness never stops leaking. It just keeps coming out, soaking his fingers and the bottom half of his face.

“Caleb, I'm close,” you whine as you shake, hips grinding back to his skilled mouth, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, cumming—”

You moan high and reedy, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure. Yet at the first spurt of cum that lands on his tongue, Caleb quickly sits up and pulls out his fingers.

He pins your legs to the mattress and thrusts back inside in one go, your pussy still spasming from cumming.

“Fuck!” you scream, nails scratching down his back. “Wait, I'm still cumming! I just came!”

Caleb doesn't stop, fucking his cock deeper with each splash of your cum soaking his skin. “You're so fucking tight when you cum, fuuuck...” he hisses, hastening his thrusts, hips having a mind of their own. Everything feels so good that his mind is getting dumbed down from your delicious warmth. “Baby, give me one more, I have to feel you cumming around me.”

He pounds you to the mattress relentlessly, every trace of restraint gone in his body. The only thing in his brain is the single-minded focus of making you cum again, pulling out more sweet noises from your mouth. He delights in each spurt of arousal that comes out when he presses against a good spot, and he knows it's good because you squeeze around him so nicely.

“It feels so good,” you sob to his shoulder. “Caleb, ohh, ahn!”

“Feels good for me too, princess. You're perfect, fuck!” Caleb snaps his hips, almost reaching completion. “I'm gonna cum soon. Where do you want it, princess? Where do you want me to cum?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to slide even deeper inside you. “Inside! Cum inside!”

He swears under his breath, cock pulsing. His hand travels south to toy with your clit again, rubbing incessantly to make you cum faster. Clear liquid squirts out of your cunt and he fucks you through it sloppy, holding your legs steady while you writhe from the overstimulation.

“I'm going to cum inside you, baby.” With one last thrust, he stills inside your cunt, releasing his cum deep inside. “Ohh, princess, I'm cumming— take every last drop, fuck, shit—”

He crushes you to the mattress, squeezing you in his arms as his cock shoots out strings of cum. “You did so well,” he murmurs, kissing everywhere he can reach. You lean more to his touch, tired yet fulfilled. “Sorry, that was too much, wasn't it? Does your body hurt?”

“I'm fine...” you wince when you feel cum drip out of your cunt at the slightest shift of position. “...Caleb.”

He's still kissing you all over your face, hands cupping your cheeks. “Hm?”

“You're still hard.”

Another kiss on your brow. “Don't mind it, princess. I'll handle it myself.”

“Oh...” you fiddle with the tag on his necklace, gnawing on your lip. “I was going to say I could help out.”

“...”

“Caleb? ...Did you just cum a little?”

“No, fuck, just— come here.”

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[justchillandshipit]

I was going to post this last night, but I was tired. For Ramon to say, "The Diaz men," when referring to Chris and himself right after purposefully excluding Eddie from attending the match, makes me want to rage. The implication here is what? That somehow Eddie isn't a man. He couldn't go. (It was also clear they had not told Eddie about the chess tournament in the first place, even though he lives near them now. There is no way they should have even assumed that a parent would not want to see their own son in a tournament. There is no acceptable excuse for that. None. Also, when Eddie arrives at the tournament at Buck's encouragement, he learns that Ramon has been calling Chris his son.)

I know Minear has a habit of redeeming parents with no effort or change on the parents' part, but I don't feel like what happened last night should be the end of things with Eddie's parents. He claimed his rights as a Dad, but he desperately needs to claim his right to be treated with the respect of another human being, and yes, a man. It doesn't matter what his sexuality is. Eddie is still a man. I say this as a feminist. I hate the patriarchy, but I don't hate men, and Eddie deserves to have that respect. (That includes those who identify as trans.) People deserve the respect of their personhood.

There needs to be more confrontations. Period.

And yet another thing.

When you recall what Eddie said to Chris when he left about how he could always come home, whether it was 5 mins or 5 months etc., you really have to wonder what was being said in front of Chris. (as if he weren't capable of following a conversation.) We saw how Helena was. She wasn't outright confrontational. She was passive-aggressive and manipulative. I'd go so far as to say that she was gaslighting to get an outraged, angry reaction so she could play like she was the reasonable one or the victim. From there, she could accuse Eddie of behaving badly. And from Chris's behavior at the dinner table at Eddie's house. She has most definitely been doing the same to him. Even with the PS5, I think he gave the response that would avoid Helena being upset.

Seriously, what were they saying to Chris that he was thinking that Eddie wasn't his Dad anymore?

I swear, I really do adore and respect Tim Minear on many levels, but on this, I feel actively angry. Being a biological parent doesn't give you a free pass to do this. I'm not saying Tim should make all our firefighters hate their parents, but I think the parents should each have to put in the work with their actual children to repair the relationship. It shouldn't be Eddie's job to mend the fences he didn't break.

Eddie is a great parent. Chim, Hen, Maddie, and even Buck, if you want to include his co-parenting, are good parents. Bobby, obviously, is on the next level in parenting. They are not good parents because their parents taught them how to be good. They're good, first, because they are less selfish. Second, because they have been on the other side and know what they never want their kids to experience or feel. If any of these people do make mistakes, and they will because they're human, those mistakes don't come from the same place of selfishness. Eddie said it to Buck once, "I know you'll keep trying." That's what Eddie and the others do. They keep trying. Eddie's parents, Chim's parents, Buck's parents; I haven't seen them make the first attempt.

Lord, sorry guys. I didn't plan to rant. I just got angrier as I typed. Bless you if you stuck it out until the end.

I haven't read any post-episode interviews yet. I'll do that after this post, so some of this may be discussed elsewhere, but here you have my two cents on the matter.

[whisperofwonder]

Good Cop, Bad Cop

Parenting with various Haikyuu men - sometimes you're the good cop, sometimes you're the bad cop.

Featuring: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader, Oikawa Tooru x reader, Tsukishima Kei x reader (okay, you're both kind of the bad cop in this one), Hinata Shouyou x reader

(Reader is referred to as Mom in Tsukishima's, the rest are gender neutral)

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, and are attempting to put the groceries away while simultaneously preventing an all-out fist fight in the middle of the kitchen over the box of applesauce pouches. It's just the kind of day it's been.

Another shriek splits the air, and you massage your aching temples wearily. Normally, your son and daughter get along pretty well, but today is one of those days when neither of them is in a very good mood, and they've been taking it out on each other all day. Refereeing has become exhausting, and the headache pounding in your skull isn't making things any easier. The sound of the door latch has never been more welcome.

"What is all the yelling about?" The sound of your husband's deep voice immediately silences the squabble, your two children suddenly blinking up at him with the box still clutched between them. Oh, you are so jealous of this ability Wakatoshi has. "Applesauce?" He asks incredulously, plucking the box from their fingers and looking down at them with a frown.

"Sorry, Dad," They chorus meekly.

"Why don't you go to your rooms?" He suggests, in a voice that doesn't invite any arguments. "Start thinking about your actions today, because we'll be having a discussion about it later." They glance at each other before silently turning to do as they're told.

You sigh at the sound of their bedroom doors closing. "Tough day?" Wakatoshi asks, voice turning soft in a way that's only ever reserved for you and the kids. He cups your cheek in his hand, and you nod against it, leaning into his touch.

"Just what I said in the text," You murmur, referring to the exasperated message you'd sent him earlier that afternoon. "They've been at each other's throats all day. I wish I could manage them like you do."

"You do just fine," He runs his hand down your arm comfortingly. "I know they respect you and love you very much."

You nod again, though you're struggling to believe it right at the moment. "I just don't have your gift," You shrug, managing a small smile now that he's home and doing this with you.

"That's why we're a team," He says matter of factly, finally drawing you to him and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'll get you some pain pills for that headache. After they kick in, we'll have a talk with them together."

"Thank you," You say softly, leaning in for one more kiss. You truly can't imagine doing this with anyone else.

Oikawa Tooru

You've just finished cutting the second apple and put the slices on the plate when your husband dances into the kitchen, your daughters bobbing behind.

"Okay," He sticks his head in the freezer, rummaging around a bit before pulling something out. "Who wants fudge ripple?" He holds up the carton of ice cream as your daughters bounce on their toes.

"Me! Me!" They wave their hands excitedly.

"Tooru," You say his name quietly, gesturing to the apples you'd just finished plating. "We're having apples for a snack tonight," You announce more loudly, plucking the box from your husband's fingers and tucking it back in the freezer.

"But Daddy said we could have ice cream!" The oldest pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did he?" You ask lightly, quirking an eyebrow at your husband, who shrugs sheepishly. "Did you happen to tell him that we had ice cream this afternoon after we went to the park?"

Suddenly very interested in her toes, she murmurs, "No."

"Oops," He says quietly, shrugging and mouthing a sorry over the tops of their heads. You shake your head with a sigh.

"Sounds like we're having apples tonight, my loves," He says quickly, corralling them to the table to have a seat as you set down the plate of apples. "Why don't you tell me about what kind of ice cream you got this afternoon?" They sulk, but by the time they're tucked in bed, the incident seems mostly forgotten.

"Sorry about the ice cream thing," He apologizes after you've tucked yourself on the couch next to him. "They're sneaky!"

"They certainly are," You huff a soft chuckle, "I wonder where they got it from?" You muse, elbowing him gently in the side.

"Hey," He pouts, a mirror of your girls' pouting faces from earlier. "I won't be tricked next time." He slides an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"We'll see about that," You murmur, knowing your daughters too well to be convinced, but too comfortable pressed against Tooru to care.

Tsukishima Kei

"It's just not fair!" Your son huffs, stomping louder than necessary through the kitchen. "You said Kaito could come over this afternoon, but now all of a sudden he can't?" He's glaring at you across the room.

"I said he could come over if you cleaned your room," You correct, "And you obviously haven't."

"What if I clean it now? Really quick?" He begs, "Then I don't have to tell him you lied to me."

You open your mouth, trying to formulate a response to that twisted logic, when Kei's office door opens.

"No," He says firmly, and your son turns to him, but can't get a word in before he continues. "Kaito is not coming over today, especially after the way you just spoke to your mother. I know you're smarter than that."

"But-" He says weakly, snapping his mouth shut when your husband's lips press into a thin line.

"I know you're not talking back to me as well." He says icily. "First, apologize to Mom. Then you can go clean your room from top to bottom. I want to hear the vacuum running."

Your son nods slowly. "Okay." He turns dutifully and looks at you. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Thank you," You accept his apology with a nod, and that quickly he's off to his room. You close your eyes for a few moments, trying to quiet your exasperation.

"Sorry I butted in," Kei speaks from beside you though you hadn't heard him move across the room. "I just couldn't stop myself after what he said." His hand goes to the back of your neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there.

"It's fine," You sigh, "It was kind of getting away from me," You admit with a wry smile.

"Sometimes I wonder if this some sort of punishment for what an asshole I was as a kid," He says with a smile pulling at his lips, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles out.

"Well, I'm not sure what I did to deserve it, because I was a perfect angel," You reply smugly, pressing in to kiss him before he can argue.

Hinata Shouyou

You've been hearing slightly suspicious sounds for the last few minutes, but a sudden crash is finally enough to make you put down the shirt you're folding and follow the sound, dreading what you'll find.

"It didn't break!" Your daughter is saying, setting one of the lamps back up on the end table. A volleyball rolls to a stop at your feet, and you look from it to your daughter and your husband.

"Please tell me this isn't what it looks like," You say in a measured voice, "Because it looks like you were playing volleyball in my house." It's hard to say which of them looks more frightened.

"We weren't playing volleyball!" She pipes up nervously, "Dad was just showing me how to dig a spike like the one Bokuto-san made in yesterday's match."

"Oh?" You turn to your husband, who looks like he'd willingly jump in a hole if it were to open up in the floor. "Shouyou," Your voice is still even, which seems to make him squirm even more. "Can you tell me why, for even a moment, that seemed like something to do in the living room?"

"I, uh, didn't think about it?" He releases a nervous chuckle. "It wasn't her idea at all, I swear. It was all me." He valiantly takes the blame.

"My darling," You turn your attention to your daughter, "You should know better than to listen to your dad sometimes." You sigh. "Just take this back to the garage, okay?" She grabs the ball and dashes away, glad to be free from your disproving glare.

"I'm really, really sorry, baby!" Your husband immediately gushes, "I know it was stupid! It was, but she asked about it and I was just so excited to show her, I didn't think about it." You're trying hard, but it's almost impossible not to soften at the anguished look on his face.

"Feels like I have two kids sometimes," You can't help a small smile as you step toward him, letting him take your hands.

"I'm really sorry," He repeats, genuinely. "It won't happen again. Volleyballs belong outside," He repeats what has become your mantra.

"Very good," You smile a little wider, unable to resist pressing a small kiss to his lips.

[2kyo7]

♱ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ♱ | LUNE

pairing ; adrian tepes , trevor belmont , sypha belnades x female reader

ཐི ➥ summary ; As the world begins to pay the toll of Dracula's rage, four unlikely heroes must band together and defeat him--no matter the price.

warnings ; swearing, blood consumption, biblical references (like one), mind control stuff

word count ; 3.9k

notes ; i’ll be starting a taglist here but i’m unsure about how long it’ll be kept open, so if u want to be added just reply to this post 😋😋!! i’d like to note that my wattpad always has an extra chapter posted b4 tumblr, so please check it out!!!💕💕

FOR WHAT FELT LIKE HOURS, a thick quietness overcame the corridor-but this was soon after replaced with fast sounds of movement as Trevor extended the whip on his side while Sypha created hot flames in her palms. The fire served as a small light source alongside the glow of Alucard's eyes, and a pair of unknown purple hues in the near distance.

"How insolent, you come into my home and threaten...me with toys and child's play?" The feminine voice laughed, her words booming throughout the castle in waves. In the darkness three more pairs of dark glowing eyes emerged, "speaker! Belmont! Stand down." Alucard tried his absolute best to keep the situation under control, but was only met with retaliation. They watched aimlessly while the trio of eyes flown across the room in circles around them, hysterical laughter following each of the moving figures. Each chanting their own retorts, successfully unnerving both Sypha and her equally edged accomplice Trevor.

"Shameless, entering our abode to taunt us with incantations and artillery..."

"Look at how their faces cage magnificent red! Imagine the taste."

"Expel of them swiftly, the filthy things."

Each voice spoke their truths with little to no hesitance, all wearing differentiating voices and identities. The insults continued unwavering, even as Alucard attempted to speak over them, but once more his efforts were wasted. "ENOUGH." That is, until the undeniable presence spoke above all noise made about, causing the feminine voices to become silenced as they no longer lofted about the room teasingly—instead standing beside one another near a grand window which now only served for decoration as no light shown through its glaring transparency.

"Now...step forth." Within a moment's time, Trevor along with Sypha obey the spoken orders in perfect sync. Similar to a solemn soldier and his commander. They weren't themselves. Mind clouded with an endless fog, and no matter how far they ran or how hard they fought-the thickness prevailed, neither of them were in control. "Much better, wouldn't you agree girls?" Mingled snickers could be heard from behind the imposing figure.

Suddenly a single pair of candles lit inside the room,

"every word you speak, any move you make; are no longer yours alone. Instead they will belong to me for however long I shall please." The light now provided a reveal for their perpetrators face, a woman appearing to be around her early 40's stood over them, looking down from her raised pedestal. Her most striking features were of course, her encapsulating amethyst-tinted eyes, the woman was...breathtaking for a vampire.

"...and soon I'll know your own mind better than you ever will." After her speech, quietness overcame the room once more, of course there had been the shallow grunts sounding from Sypha and Trevor, but those too would be silenced in the coming minutes-once their minds grew tired and the enchantment took full affect.

Finally, Alucard would step up. His mind curiously unaffected from a true blood's power, "I apologize on behalf of my companions...it seems they should've been better educated on certain matters." He lowered his head before giving a curt bow. "It's been too long, Jacquelin." Various gasp fill the room, the loudest coming from 'Jacqueline' herself.

"Do my eyes deceive me? No, I'm never wrong!" She steps over the black railing, promptly gliding down to gather a better look at the boy...no...man in front of her. Placing her hand to his icy cheeks, Alucard neither denies nor accepts the touch. "My it is you sweet Adrian, time seems to have wavered in your fortune."

Alucard hummed in response to her praise, a smile playing along his face, though he himself felt lukewarm. "As much as I appreciate the compliments, I think I'd be more appreciative if those two would be sincerely sparred." Jacquelin huffed, crossing her arms, she walks circles around the frozen duo, observing them. "Interesting. A hunter and a speaker, what are you planning?"

"Why ask when you already know?" There's slight edge to his tone, not enough to be considered hostile, but present all the same. Jacquelin smiled jeeringly, lines forming around her mouth, "their insight isn't near as concise in comparison to yours." She neared Sypha, fiddling with the arm of her clothing. Eyes beginning to glow dangerously bright. "I wanted to hear it directly from you, all that knowledge. Locked away and hidden. Share it with me, won't you?"

"Enough with the spectacle darling, you'll scare our guest." A fourth and final voice entered the room, this one pronounced and deep, echos bouncing off the walls until reaching Adrian and Jacquelin. "Oh but it was only a bit of fun." She began to hone her full attention onto her husband, floating up towards him almost magnetically, the man captured his wife within a gentle embrace, a smile too playing on his face upon seeing hers. The man was tall and fibrous, a well groomed salt and pepper beard adorning his face. He'd also be dressed lavishly in dark clothing, similar to his wife and children. In fact, his children mostly favored him aside from their most distinguished feature. "All in good taste, I assure you Louviers."

Adequately, Jacquelin releases her control with a simple and dismissive wave. Immediately the two returned to their defensive stance, "what the hell just happened?" Trevor questions, confused and wary as ever. Alucard twisted his head to look back at them, "calm yourselves, a solution has just been reached."

"Surely you know by now that this would be a fight you stood no chance of winning." Jacquelin giggled from behind her hand. "Mother, is the fun over already?" Emerging from behind was a heavily pregnant woman, sporting the same purple eyes as she Jacqueline. "Unfortunately your father cut it short. Disheartening isn't it, Lyevre?"

Before anything else could be said, the two other sisters revealed themselves from their shadowing positions. "Perfect everyone's here! Langrené, Lyevre, and (Name). Come greet our guest." The man bequeathed his daughters forward, calling each of their name's in order of birth. "My dear, I have an even more wonderful idea." Jacquelin interject, grin broad as day. "What better way to become reacquainted than dinner, Adrian has much to discuss with us but I am simply famished."

Jacquelin didn't have to utter another sentence, she felt the back of her hand be pleasantly kissed by soft; familiar lips. "Say not another word my love." With a snap of his fingers servants seemed to appear from thin air to aid their master's request. "Please show our guest to their rooms-assure they are in close quarters to one another." Louviers begins to lead himself and his wife elsewhere into the castle, eyes forever trained on Jacquelin. "And prepare a rather humane meal tonight, will you? In customary accommodations to our visitors."

Upon his parting words, workers scampered around them, immediately going to work without a minute to lose. A handful of them ushered the trio deeper into the castle, both Trevor and Sypha looked to Alucard with worry and doubt (he'd lost count of the reoccurring action), but wordlessly, they trailed along.

Alucard could feel a singular pair of eyes following his every move; down to the slightest shift in breaths, to the numbered amount of times his eyelids had fluttered themselves shut. He knew the gaze all too well-but the familiarity did nothing to stop him from turning to face its truth. THERE YOU STOOD head held high, eyes low with distain, betrayal, anger. The same look you'd given him all those years ago as he walked through your castle doors for the final time. If looks could kill, Alucard would've already been sent to the underworld three thousand times over.

Some things truly never change.

The reluctant heroes would be gathered for dinner that same night, instead of sending an undead servant to fetch for them-the second Dauvillier sister stood ecstatically in front of Alucard's door, her knocks persisted until the door was opened. "Adrian! Whatever took you so long to answer?" It had only been a few seconds...he wanted desperately to counter. "It's rude to keep a lady waiting, where have your manners gone?" From behind her Alucard could see an already exhausted Trevor, but a particularly joyful Sypha.

"My apologies, Lyevre...may I?" Alucard held out an expecting arm for her to take, one which she gladly accepted, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Of course!"

Together they gracefully traveled arm in arm towards the dining room, the gesture done out of pure politeness. Sypha and Trevor trailed a few paces behind, observing the decor of the castle halls. "Who is the lucky gentleman?" Alucard gestures to the golden ring adoring Lyevre's finger, a beautiful amethyst gem embedded on its surface. She began giggling cheerfully, like a young peasant girl in love.

Lyevre was the kindest out of her sisters, her upbeat personality complimented by a soft tone of voice made it easy for anyone--vampire or not--to fall for her charms. Long dark hair flowed behind her, nearly exceeding the length of the silky lilac robes she wore. Material optimizing her comfort. Especially in her current state.

A free, dainty hand reaching to message her round stomach. "You'll meet him at supper, he's quite the catch I must say." Alucard's eyes widened, deciding to humor her statement with blandishments. "He must be quite the sire indeed, to earn your affections." Once more Lyevre laughed softly, "quit your flattery Adrian, if my husband catches ear-well, he can get very jealous."

Remaining in easy conversation, they'd finally reached the dining area. The room itself was grand enough to hold unending banquets and balls. The decor (similar to the rest of the castle) was decorated rather darkly, accented with their family's signature color; purple.

"EXCELLENT, you've finally arrived! Hurry take a seat so we may begin dinning." As her father spoke, Lyevre left Alucard's side to seat herself beside her younger sister, you. Only sparing their group a revolted glance before returning yourself to scratching at your empty porcelain plate. Sypha rushed to sit across from Lyevre, seemingly continuing their earlier conversation, while Trevor cautiously moves to seat himself in front of Langrené—the eldest sister—who couldn't even bother to regard him whatsoever, instead choosing to further debate her father on foreign matters.

Langrené was undoubtedly the most cutthroat of your sisters, the strongest too. Like all firstborns, she had been burdened with the duty of upholding the family's name, assuring its success without fail. She was beautiful as she was menacing; having no need for charms Langrené much rather preferred utilizing threats and favors to gain advantages. Her hair sat styled in a half-updo, barely reaching below her shoulder blades. Dressed in thick but modest purple fabrics that left much to be imagined, only a single shade away from black.

Lastly, it came Alucard's turn to find himself a place amongst the group. There remained only two arrangements; the unoccupied chair beside Lyevre, (unmistakably left vacant for someone that wasn't him) and the empty seat crossways from yourself. Taking notice of this you scoff, a corner of your lip upturned high in the air. "Un-bel-ievable!" You say aloud, earning the attention of Lyevre. "Don't be rude fleur. Your playmate has come to see you, isn't that lovely?" She gestures for Alucard to continue his movements, "it's true, we haven't seen one another in ages...I've missed you quite dearly."

You flinch at his closing words, heart racing ever so slightly off pace. The feeling didn't last long. Crossing your arms over the expanse of your chest, you turn to face elsewhere in an effort to avoid his hallowing gaze. "And whose fault may that be?" Alucard leaned back into the furniture with a small sigh, he hadn't expected to be welcomed back by you warmly. Especially considering the circumstance of his last parting, but it's as if over the course of years your stubbornness had impossibly amplified.

Other qualities had amplified also since your last interaction, so long ago. Out of all your sisters you were unabashedly the most pampered, expected of the youngest. You hadn't grown up with the same hardships and pressures as your eldest sister; nor were you taught the importance of discipline and kindness like your older. You were allowed to flourish without the bidding of rules or the weight of power. And flourish in ways you might.

At the sight of tears or the howl of your voice, anything you desired was yours alone to own. Mountains of luxurious gowns, the sweetest of virgin blood, toys carved from that of diamonds and gold. You'd known to work for nothing, so you'd grown to work for none. Everything existed in your delight, and things that did not were simply forgotten. What reason would you have to learn the art of swordsmanship? Or needlessly drown yourself in studies for hours on end? To even master the works of your inherited abilities seemed so utterly pointless, what purpose could it ever serve?

Adorning your form was a dress suitable for only those bearing the royalist of blood, the material clouded down your shoulders in puffy sleeves leaving them bare for all to witness. Your cleavage wore minimal coverage as well; the top half of your chest displayed in a fashionable manner. Intricate designs cascaded along the expensive fabric accompanied by a number of matching laces and bows, effectively tying the outfit elegantly together. Hair styled similarly to Lyevre's, but never quite as long-wavering just above your hips.

Yes, you'd grown with assurance. Perhaps a little too much.

Before he could think to carry his dialogue much farther, an abrupt noise cuts through all others. Jacquelin stood at the far-most end of the table, similar to her husband, she held high in the air a empty wine glass awaiting to be filled by soothing, rich liquid; in her opposing palm rested a golden fork-made from only the purest materials. "Now that almost everyone has been gathered," she cuts quick eyes to Lyevre, "let us dine in each other's company and enjoy this nostalgic rekindling."

Instances after servants appeared to fill empty glasses and carry in their arms trays of an unending feast, stacked with various amounts of food; red meats, fish, poultry, wheat, vegetables and fruits. This was the grandest of grand dining. More food had been dished out in a single night than either Sypha or Trevor would see years to follow.

At first they looked upon the display with fearful eyes. Justifiably so. Anyone should be once having their minds bent and nearly broken beyond comprehension-but such the humanity of hunger would entice even the most durable of beings. Sypha couldn't help but to recall a faithful tale told by the ages of Eve and the forbidden fruit. While Trevor remembered the teachings of his youth, bribery the killer of fools.

Still, she stuffed her cheeks full like a rodent. Thanking every silent servant that wordlessly cleared her plates or offered her new feedings. And he, had drunken himself into a spell of his own. One glass after another downing his hearty throat.

The Dauvilliers—your family watched with mixed expressions of amusement, disgust, and wonder. Looking upon the two humans gouging themselves as if the latest spectacle. The scene akin to how fae tempt the human mind with simple trickeries for entertainment until their untimely deaths. Alucard felt a feeling of shame wash over him like a cold water, knowing that he himself was at least partially susceptible to such humane behavior. But in the same breath he too felt anger, knowing this was the extent of humanly worth to man-feeders like you. He swallowed his accursed thoughts, they would do him no good here.

Louviers' laugh was effusive, wiping his lips of any excess food that might've escaped with a pearly white cloth. "I'd forgotten how delightful watching humans feast can be, what a splendid idea darling." He looked to his wife who'd just finished her 5th glass of blood wine and showed little sign of stopping. "Yes, it's truly a show indeed. How many ages has it been since we last partook in the practice?"

"Far too long I must say." Louviers glances to Trevor's empty bottle, commanding someone to "bring his friend another drink" as he'd articulated. Simultaneously his middle daughter humored Sypha in a similar fashion, admiring how she'd been essentially inhaling her meal.

"Are all humans this desperate for food...poor things." Alucard knew the question was lined with false worry-faux concern-but Sypha was none the wiser. He noticed the way Lyevre's eyes started to faintly glow, whispering sugar-coated nothings into the shell of her ear. You happily indulged in your sister's game, holding a slice of ripe, delectable pomegranate to her lips, coaxing her to unwilling taking another bite. "You are not yet full are you, Speaker? Go on eat just a little more." Lyevre's control left Sypha's mind after uttering those few but haunting syllables; now turned thoughts at the forefront of her mind.

Alucard could only hold his tongue. At the end of the day, it was your family's help he required, and if becoming party tricks for only a few hours would spare humanity from certain doom-so be it.

"Enough of this," Langrené finally took it upon herself to speak above your family's joyous cries after silently watching for nearly the entirety of dinner. There was not even a passing glance of amusement to be seen; instead evident irritation and displeasure. She rose from her place at the table, the palm of her cold hand slamming against the table and with it, plates of food and utensils begin to levitate from the table's surface. Her voice carried oh-so effortlessly across the room, causing a number of servants to stop in their tracks, fearing they've made a grave mistake.

"You know I tend to quickly tire of games, Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, so tell me of your being here-tell me now or leave with that of which you came."

Alucard knew his next few words could change the course of history itself, but he wondered not of what "that" Langrené spoke of meant, but he feared it all the same; perhaps his limbs? Or maybe she referred to the two humans he'd been traveling with for days on end; who were, as of now, incapable of forming a coherent sentence. At this moment (the wrong one), Alucard finds his humanity to be more dawning than ever. The weighted gazes of your family, combined with the various object spinning around overhead; Alucard attempts to straighten his posture, but even then he struggles to find the words.

"It is unfortunate that I am unable to access the mind of other's as can my mother and sister—if I could—this entire ordeal would have concluded the moment you graced the doorstep of this family. For dear Adrian, it does not take enchanted forces to know this is no mere reunion of old ties."Alucard remembers how he practiced throughout voyage here, he'd practice in perfect paragraphs how'd he would sway your family. His words buttered by reasoning, smooth with certainty. Curious is the mind.

"Mon petit amour, calm yourself. There exist not a soul who doesn't know our dear Adrian has been through a great deal." Jacquelin's fingers danced in the air, and soon everything returned to its rightful place among the table, including Langrené. Smiling she said, "Go ahead Adrian, you have the floor."

Alucard nodded in thanks, clearing his hoarse throat once his thoughts finally settled. "As you may have caught wind, no more than a year ago now-my mother was killed-falsely accused of witchcraft." There were no gasp of surprise, nor the fall of drinks, instead scarce pity. "My word, how truly regrettable it is to hear. That woman was remarkable for her kind." Louviers subtly shook his head, gaze casted downward onto his finished plate of food. Jacquelin hummed, taking another sip, "I'd heard rumors, but talk can be ever-so cheap."

"The news was rather unfathomable to me also, I mean the Count Dracula allowing his bride to murdered? Impossible!" Lyevre held a dramatic hand over her heart, breath appearing to leave her body as she spoke. "They say she was burned alive at the stake, is it true? I must declare, such punishments become more common with each passing day." The eldest sister grinned, Alucard could only ponder what seemed so tickling about his mother's death. He held his tongue once more.

"Hmph, such is the nature of humans. How does it feel to be controlled by fear, Adrian? Or do you prefer Alucard, now?" Your eyes-your words too, were filled to the brim with such contempt, such repulse, Alucard wondered who exactly he looked to in that moment. True bloods weren't notorious for their compassion towards humans, but you were a different entity entirely. "The same way you are controlled by hunger. (Name)." He was quick to shoot back, but careful in his tone. Your venomous glare sharpened, if not amidst a discussion, you'd pounce across the table and show him what. "I am...grateful...for your words, Dauvilliers. So you must know that following my mother's departure has been my father's wrath. Not only upon those responsible, but all of humanity."

"Goodness, how could we not? Just before your arrival we'd been deliberating our next plan of action, right Louviers..." she didn't give a chance to respond. "...but then I caught smell of a prophecy, that just might be our solution." Jacquelin's smile never faltered, instead growing as she rested her chin on the inside of her palm. "Feel absolute to correct me if I'm mistaken." She looked to Alucard, who sat as composed as one could. "Of course not Jacquelin, you never are."

Like a tale as old as old as the times; Alucard spoke of the story-fated heroes destined to rescue humanity's people. The soldier, the hunter, the scholar, and the true blood. Billions of lives rested in their balance, but only if they can acquire the final piece.

"Ah...allow me to clarify. You mean to recruit one of us, in hopes that we may kill your father? Alucard I must applaud you for your bravery, disguised as stupidity." Langrené stood from the table, beginning to walk away. "You are dismissed, I'm afraid you'll have to find some other willing vampire to do your biddings. Begone."

"My daughter, do not act out with such haste. Who are we to deny any prophecy if it means our safety?" Louviers' words halted his child in her tracks, "don't be ludicrous father, I won't allow anyone of this family to die for the sake of mortals. Mother, please reason with him!"

Jacquelin sat buried beneath contemplation. Though her oldest daughter has been arranged to inherit the family's title, the decision is still her's alone to make. "Your father is right, this is not our choice to make as forces beyond have already pronounced their judgment." Her expression shifted into that of rage, had she finally grown mad in her age, Langrené could not help but think. "Then who shall it be mother? Perhaps father who does not even carry the eyes, or I, the next to inherit this legacy? Maybe you are considering Lyevre who—may I remind you—is with child? No, I'm completely deluded. It is yourself, you wish to be a savior. Don't make me laugh."

She took a long pause before answering, the room falling silent. Aside from Langrené's heavy breathing, and Trevor's incessant mumbles. "Not at all Langrené, for it is your youngest sister; (Name), who shall fulfill this pending prophecy."

———

taglist: open

@foulbreadpeanut , @uhnanix

[wombywoo]

do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?

boy do I....

I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...

These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~

Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3

Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3

bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!

The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3

Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3

come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3

in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3

Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3

I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to, “When we break up _______,” text prank

Requested !

A/N: These text prompts take quite some time to write, but that's okay since it’s an excuse to think about my 13 boys hahah. I’m not entirely sure (I'm sure this is not what the anon wanted) if this is exactly what the anon had in mind. Perhaps they wanted me to describe what the members were doing at the time and their immediate reactions (but I tried to incorporate), rather than just their responses to the texts. However, as I was writing, this format felt more natural. I hope you still enjoy it regardless! If you’re looking for context behind this request or want to read something similar, please refer back to this.

Content: Slightly suggestive (Hoshi and Vernon) MDNI!, author losing their mind, overthinking, Minghao being Minghao, some being stinking cute especially Dino.

For the sake of the reaction, OT13 are not physically with their s/o at the moment.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol:

Text: "When we break up, don’t forget to delete all my photos from your phone."

Reaction: He'd read the text and immediately respond,

“Why would I ever delete your photos? And why are we even talking about breaking up? Did something happen?”

When you confess it’s a prank, he’d sigh deeply.

“You really scared me. I was already planning to fight for us. Now, don’t you dare even think about leaving me, okay?”

“When will you stop doing these stupid pranks with me??”

You'll find him whining every now and then just because you attempted another breakup prank on him (he can't stay upset at you for too long). He’ll probably make some extra effort afterward to spoil you with love and affection, making sure you know that there’s no way he’d ever let you go.

Jeonghan:

Text: "When we break up, I'll take everything I've ever given you. Just so you know."

Reaction: Immediately knows you are messing with him. His reply would be sarcastic,

“Oh no, how will I ever part with my favorite mug that says ‘Best Boyfriend Ever’? Truly heartbreaking.”

If you insist it’s serious, he’d still keep teasing,

“Sure, I’ll give everything back… including my heart. But are you sure you can live without me?”

He already knows that it's a prank so there's nothing to confess so he'll just be like, “Now let’s go get some ice cream.” simple.

Joshua:

Text: "When we break up, I'll delete all the playlists I made for you."

Reaction: Joshua would be confused at first and think you were joking, but a part of him would start overthinking. He’d respond carefully ignoring the playlist comment:

“When we break up? Why are we even thinking about that? Are you okay?”

If you keep pushing the prank, he’d try his bestest to approach it calmly,

“Why would we even break up? And the playlists were for us, not just me. I’d never stop listening to them, even if…”

“I wouldn’t want anything back because the memories would be more important to me. But seriously, why are you thinking about breaking up?”

He’d hesitate, genuinely upset at the thought that you can even image you guys breaking up because for the love of god the mere suggestion of living without you, even hypothetically, is unimaginable to him. When you reveal the prank, he’d sigh in relief. “You got me good. But don’t joke about stuff like this—it hurts too much to even imagine.” The idea was unfathomable. You were his safe place, the person he envisioned in every corner of his future.

Jun:

Text: "When we break up, you better not cry over me. Stay strong!"

Reaction: Jun would be both amused and confused.

“Why are you breaking up with me in a hypothetical situation and then telling me not to cry? Are you okay?”

And obviously you'll keep pushing, so he’d add,

“If we ever broke up, I’d cry so much, you’d have to come back just to stop me.” (this is so Jun coded I'm crying-)

When you confess it’s a prank, he’d laugh and actually say, “You’re so weird, but that’s why I love you. No more breakup talk, okay?” He just loves you too much to even take what you're saying seriously in his first thought so he took what you said as an hypothetical situation immediately. At least you didn't say you're breaking up...that would be another case-

Hoshi:

Text: "When we break up, I’m taking my tiger plushie back."

Reaction: He would immediately text back in all caps:

“WHEN WE WHAT?!”

“YOU CAN’T TAKE THE TIGER PLUSHIE! IT’S OUR CHILD!”

He’d call you within seconds, borderline panicking. He wouldn't even let you speak when you picked up, “What’s going on? Are you mad at me? Don’t take the tiger—take me instead!”

It would take you a good few minutes to get a word in, and when you finally explained it was just a prank, the silence on the other end would be DEAFENING. Then, a dramatic groan, “YOU’RE SO MEAN!” He’d pout for the next five minutes, ranting about how you shouldn’t joke about something so serious. Please, cuddle our baby tiger (not hamster) (Hoshi will be so proud of me).

“You better hold me extra tight tonight to make up for this! And no, I’m still not over it, but fine…I’ll forgive you because I’m a nice person.”—and then this will lead to something else...open to interpretation-

Wonwoo:

Text: "When we break up, I hope you find someone who loves gaming as much as you do."

Reaction: Wonwoo would stare at the text for a while, overthinking every s.i.n.g.l.e word.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

If you keep it going, he’d send another message, quietly emotional,

“No one could replace you. And I don’t want someone who loves gaming—I want someone who loves me.”

“Which can be only you”

When you quickly reveal the prank, he’d let out a quiet laugh. “You really know how to mess with my heart, huh? Let’s stick to love texts from now on.” He has literal heart eyes for you so why do you always try out these pranks with him when you very well know that he takes these very seriously?? Your happiness is his main priority. He doesn't even care if it means he’ll get hurt in the process—he’ll give you whatever you want, as long as it makes you smile. It's like he’d do anything for you, even if it means falling for your pranks over and over again and making his heart suffer. He’ll laugh at himself for being so easy to be fooled by you, but deep down, he’s just so grateful to be the one to make you laugh.

Woozi:

Text: "When we break up, promise me you won’t write any sad songs about me."

Reaction: He'll raise an eyebrow at the message, unsure how to respond.

“Why are we breaking up in this scenario? And who said I’d write sad songs? I’d be hurt too much to even write.”

If you insist you're being very very VERY serious, he’d add something along the line,

“But we’re not breaking up, so stop being weird.”

When you tell him it’s a prank, he’d shake his head, not even surprised at this point. But he’d exhale slowly, the tension leaving his body. “You’re lucky I’m used to your nonsense. But don’t distract me while I’m working next time!” He’d probably end the conversation with a quiet but sweet, "I love you.” (AHHHHHHGVthhtxutFGCG)

Dokyeom:

Text: "When we break up, don’t tell your mom—it’ll break her heart."

Reaction: My love will immediately start spiraling. His cheerful smile fades, replaced by an obvious frown, genuinely not being able to fathom why you would even suggest something like that.

“What do you mean, ‘when we break up’? Is this a joke?”

“And why are you dragging my mom into this? She loves you!”

“i love you!”

If you don’t respond quickly (it's been only 7 seconds), his heart drops even more as the seconds tick by, and before you even have the chance to reply, he's calling you while on his way to your place,

When you pick up, his first words are rushed and anxious, "Hey, you’re not serious, right? You can’t be serious! Are you upset about something?”

When you reveal it’s a prank, he’d let out a dramatic sigh of relief as he exhales loudly, remaining still on the road "I thought you were going to really break my heart there," he'd say, still in slight disbelief. "Don't ever do that again… Seriously." But then, after a pause, he'd add with that signature bright smile of his, “But, I guess if we did break up... I’d tell my mom.” But jokes aside even if there’s a misunderstanding or a small argument, Dokyeom is the first to apologize and seek resolution. He never likes holding grudges and believes that communication is key to keeping the relationship strong, so he'll talk about this thoroughly after he's back home for, ‘just incase’ scenarios.

Mingyu:

Text: "When we break up, I’m taking all the kitchen gadgets with me."

Reaction: Mingyu would be shocked and devastated. He immediately pauses whatever he’s doing to process what you’ve just said. It doesn’t make sense, and his mind races, trying to figure out why you’d even mention breaking up,

“Wait, why are we breaking up? And why are you taking the kitchen gadgets? I need those!”

He’s genuinely worried about losing the gadgets, yes—but more than that, he’s upset at the thought of losing you. The kitchen has become one of his favorite places to be with you, especially when you both cook together or when he’s making you something special. That’s one of his favorite ways to show love, and now to him it feels like everything’s about to crumble because he really thinks you're being serious. So if you keep pushing, he’d add,

“You know I can’t live without my kitchen gadgets, and I can’t live without you, either! Why are you breaking up with me?” (being funny is his coping mechanism)

“Fine, take them, but I’ll visit every day to borrow them. And I’ll cook for you while I’m there.”

He didn't process the, ‘when we’ and came to the conclusion that you're breaking up with him right this second and wanting to take the kitchen gadgets lmao. He's pretty smart in general but when it comes to these...poor boy. So then when you explain that it’s just a prank, he lets out a long, dramatic sigh of relief, still sounding a bit flustered but trying to act casual about it. Beneath his strong, athletic build and playful demeanor, Mingyu has a soft heart. He’s easily affected by things that involve you—whether it’s a prank like this or just knowing you’re having a hard time. He wants to protect your heart, even if it means being vulnerable himself.

Minghao:

Text: "When we break up, make sure to stay stylish so I don’t regret dating you."

Reaction: His first instinct would be to chuckle softly, finding the text both funny and absurd.

“When we break up? First of all, not happening. Second, I’d stay stylish anyway—who do you think I am?”

If you push a lil more further, he’d reply in no time. There's no chance for you to argue here because to him your question is already very stupid—wdym by, when you guys break up? Do you think that's happening? No.

“But seriously, why are we even talking about this? Is this your way of saying you want attention?”

“You know I’d give you all my attention anyway, right?”

When you confess the prank, with a deep sigh, “Pfft, I’m too cool to get mad. Next time, try being more subtle and convincing.” He’ll joke a little, but you can tell he’s low-key affected by the prank. Then, with a teasing smirk, he adds, “But seriously, I would stay stylish. That’s a given.”

Seungkwan:

Text: "When we break up, promise me you won’t cry in public—it’s embarrassing."

Reaction: Seungkwan would gasp LOUDLY and immediately text back:

“EXCUSE ME?! Are you breaking up with me in this hypothetical situation AND calling me embarrassing?! How dare you!”

He’d follow up with: (also immediately after taking a 5 sec deep breath)

“Fine, I won’t cry in public, but I’ll cry so hard in private that the whole neighborhood will hear me!”

You can almost hear his dramatic flair through the text as he exaggerates the idea of a breakdown, and he doesn’t hide the slight edge of hurt in his words. He’s a little too dramatic about it, but it’s because he feels deeply, even about a prank. As soon as you reveal that it’s all a joke, Seungkwan lets out an over-the-top, exaggerated groan as if he’s been completely defeated dramatically.

“You’re evil!” He'll sulk for the next 48 hours so now you'll have to spend the whole day complimenting him to make up for this.

Vernon:

Text: "When we break up, you can keep the hoodies you stole, but I’m taking my vinyls back."

Reaction: Vernon would too stare at the text for a while, unsure if you were joking.

“Uh… are you okay? Why are we breaking up?”

“And why are you taking my vinyls?”

If you keep it going,

“If we broke up, I’d let you keep the vinyls. But I don’t really want to think about this.”

When you tell him it’s a prank, he’d laugh softly to himself.

“You’re so random. But seriously, no more breakup talk—it’s weird.”

He might be soft while he's away but when he's with you?—bahahah—he'll waste no time locking the door behind him and pulling you into a deep kiss. You're not leaving this room tonight, he'll whisper in your ear. He'll make sure you're exactly where he wants you-close, under him, or in his arms, depending on the mood. It'll be a long night, just the two of you, and no one else...open to interpretation TT

Dino:

Text: “When we break up, promise me you'll still be my friend."

Reaction: He would instantly get a little confused, texting back with a wide-eyed concern because wdym that you want him to be your friend when he's your boyfriend right now??? When breaking up with you is the last thing in his mind?? And he's spamming,

“Wait, what? We’re breaking up?”

“Why?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Please don’t leave me—”

“of course, I’ll still be your friend, but I don’t even want to think about us breaking up…”

“Are you there?”

“I'm coming home”

You’d tease him telling him to go back to his work, revealing it’s a prank, and he’d let out a huge sigh of relief, but then he’d whine a little. He'd probably ask for some aygeo, maybe a surprise, just so he can feel reassured that he's still your favorite person in the world. I mean how can he be not?! An hour later, just when you think the moment has passed, there’s a knock at your door. Opening it, you find a beautiful bouquet of flowers with a little handwritten note:

These flowers don’t even come close to how beautiful you are. See you soon, my forever favorite. P.s. Don’t ever scare me like that again—or I’ll send you even more flowers to make you feel guilty. Love, Dino.

Reading it, you can’t help but giggle, your heart fluttering at how effortlessly he makes you fall for him all over again. How could someone be this sweet and still be yours? How could anyone not melt at that? He’s truly the sweetest, and he’d do anything to make sure you know just how much you mean to him—even if he’s the one who should be mad!

[talaok]

Needy

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel needs his fix of you, and he doesn't care if it makes you late.

Warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving) and coming untouched. Joel is a little more sub in this one and he's obsessed with eating you out.

a/n: guys, i have a confession to make, i do not know what this is, i wrote it tonight and boy i'm so tired that i'm honestly not really sure about what i typed, but i was in the mood and i like this thing of Joel tuesdays im doing so... hope you'll enjoy.

"you look gorgeous, baby"

It didn't take a genius.

The way he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body to yours, the way he whispered in your ear, the way he didn't break eye contact, looking at you from the mirror as he kissed your neck...

Joel Miller might have been a hard man to understand many times, but not when it was about sex.

"Joel" you stopped him immediately, neglecting the shimmers of pleasure he had ignited inside of you from such a small gesture "We don't have time"

If he heard you, he didn't show it.

His kisses only grew hotter and lower down your neck.

"Baby I'm serious" you breathed, feeling one of his hands travel down your sides "We're gonna be late"

Even with a bad ear, he should have definitely heard that, but his only response was a low groan and an attempt to hike up your dress.

"Baby-"

"just a peek" he murmured, sending a shiver up your spine "Just wanna look at her"

Even if your natural response was to roll your eyes, hearing him so desperate was doing things to you.

"please" he breathed "I'll be quick"

And after a moment of silence, as you considered what he'd just said, you finally huffed out a "fine"

It's just one peek after all, what could go wrong?

He had turned you around and was on his knees before you had time to blink, and your dress was pulled up to your belly before you could take a breath.

You watched him as he held your waist like you were a long-lost treasure he'd just found, and as his eyes trained on your clothed core with so much hunger and lust to turn them completely black.

And then slowly, oh so slowly, his right hand came to help, removing that torturous piece of fabric obstructing his view of (as he referred to it) "the most perfect pussy on the planet" 

"fuck" he groaned, his pupils dilatating so much they were one with his iris.

You let out a small chuckle at his amazement

"There, you saw it, can we go no-" you tried to speak, but were quickly interrupted

"just a kiss" 

He didn't even sound like himself, but like he was in a trance.

"just one" he breathed, leaning closer

You sighed, before agreeing 

"one"

And he didn't even answer you, he just went straight to it, groaning loudly as he kissed you right on your clit.

"Joel..." your hand found his hair, as a shock of pleasure coursed through you.

"just another one" he murmured, not giving you time to protest before his lips were on your core again, this time forcing a whimper out of your mouth.

"baby-"

But another groan of his interrupted your train of thought

"fuck you taste so fucking good" his eyes glanced up at you "I could eat you for every meal"

"Joel we're gonna be la-"

"let me taste you a little better" he growled, "just a bit, ok?"

But again, before you had time to give him a half-hearted excuse, he'd dived in, taking your pussy in his mouth like it was his lifelong duty.

His tongue was now swirling over your bud, your hole, and along your slit, making you forget all about your plans and the people waiting for you at the restaurant.

"shit baby" you moaned "f-fuck"

His hold on your waist got tighter, and soon, you realized his definition of "a bit" was much different from yours, as he didn't look like he had any intention of stopping, and to be honest, you were more than happy about it.

His nose was rubbing against your mound, you could feel his mustache tickling your skin and the way his tongue was tasting and savoring all of you was making you ascend to another universe, one where you didn't fall for Joel Miller's stupid tricks every time for example.

"J-Joel" 

And usually, he was very talkative during sex, for being such a man of a few words he really loved to talk when he was inside of you, but not when his mouth was busy, never, when his mouth was busy.

Eating your pussy for him was like a drug, I’m not kidding, you'd never met any other man who loved giving head like Joel did, most mornings than not you'd wake with him between your legs and go to sleep the same way, and when he didn't get his fix... well, you ended up arriving late at the restaurant.

"oh my god" you moaned, gripping his locks with more strength as his lips closed on your clit, sucking it deliciously "Joel fuck I-"

And that's the other thing, not only was Joel obsessed with going down on you, he was also amazing at it. Sometimes you didn't even last a full minute.

"f-fuck baby I-"

And with one final stroke of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and left wailing and crying as the orgasm took over your body.

He drank every single drop of your pleasure, not stopping to lick your pussy until you literally pulled him away by his head because you couldn't do it anymore.

"fuck" you exhaled, as your breathing tried to get back to normal.

He fixed your dress for you as he stood back up

"you're perfect" he murmured, a smile from ear to ear plastered on his face before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of yourself "fucking perfect"

You chuckled as you wrapped your arms behind his neck and kissed him again"We don't have time for me to take care of you too baby"

His lips pulled into a more shy smile now "yeah, that's not really necessary anyway"

You frowned, looking at him, before you let your eyes fall to his crotch.

A dark stain covered the front of his jeans.

"oh my god" you huffed out a laugh "go change"

"right away m'am" he nodded, giving you another quick kiss

"and wash your mouth a little bit"

And at that, he smirked 

"not a chance, sweetheart"

Your head tilted as you rolled your eyes at him.

"You, Joel Miller" you cocked an eyebrow as you looked into his hazel eyes"are a gross, gross perv"

A lazy smile pulled at his lips

"Only for you darlin'"

[spicymancer]

So just wanted you to know, "yellow" is a common slur against Asian Americans and so Huang Feng, being a Bruce Lee (whos an Asian man) clone and all could raise some eyebrows to your intentions. And before i get accused of white knighting, i am Asian

Thanks for reaching out! This is honestly something that might be important to discuss and I appreciate your attempt at broaching the subject delicately. More after the jump.

So to start. I am also Asian. Specifically Chinese American.

As an American born Chinese, I have a weird relationship with my Asian heritage. I have a bad accent when I speak Chinese and most of my upbringing and cultural understanding is very American and western-centric. So I have certain biases at play here that I fully acknowledge. My experience is not universal. But these characters are drawn from that experience.

Huang Feng is a reference to Bruce Lee's performance as Kato in the Green Hornet. Dà Huángfēng being a Chinese term for a hornet.

The character is also narratively implied to be a secret moonlighting identity for the Yellow Ranger in my made-up sentai team. (Who, due to my own decision to always refer to the characters by their Ranger color, is literally just called Yellow by the other members of the cast.)

This is also a reference. Specifically to one of my greatest inspirations, Thuy Trang (Rest in Peace), who played the original Mighty Morphin Yellow Ranger. She was one of the first "Cool Asian Characters" that I encountered in media targeted at me as a child, problematic color choice aside. I sincerely adored her and her giant robot Saber-Toothed Tiger.

To be honest I have a complicated relationship with "Asian Themed" characters in media. So often saddled with cliché stereotypes: Martial Arts, dumplings, nunchucks, etc etc.

But the thing is, even as I roll my eyes whenever I see the Fighting Game character that is The Chinese One who wears a rice hat and a qipao. Or when one is literally just Bruce Lee. I do also immediately main that character. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure. Taking what representation I can get with mixed feelings. Similar to my enjoyment of sexy anime girl art even though it's all rooted in pretty uncomfortable sexist and objectifying aesthetics. A lot of my work comes from a place of exploring my own sexuality/identity. These characters are, partly, my own attempt to explore Asian themes and ideas for myself.

I would love to say that I'm trying to "reclaim" the term or something but I'm just some internet artist drawing cute anime girls and monster smut. For me, playing with these clichés is just another way of being self-indulgent.

Not really defending these creative choices so much as explaining my perspective on them. I totally understand if all this turns folks off! I fully respect those who don't vibe with my work and wish them all the best. It's a big internet and I'm sure they can find something super great to enjoy elsewhere!

Anyway, sorry for the long rambly post. Despite the fact that I'm posting this on Tumblr, I am not super mentally equipped to engage in Discourse, so forgive me if I don't respond to the tags on this.

So I'll just leave y'all with a neat article by Kat Chow discussing the history and usage of the color Yellow in regards to Asian Identity.

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Hair cuts!

"Make sure you're using the right blade next time"

This is a reference to two things!

1- Shane's old hairstyles, that being long and the side buzz cut he had for a sec

2- the "damn I messed up, we gotta go bald" is from a meme video

I do find the headcanon of Emily helping out Shane with his hair to be a fun wholesome idea

OH and that Emily uses Haley's vanity mirror.

(Haley's wallpaper is fun! but tacky as hell)

ANYWAY, this was yet another attempt at backgrounds and this one was a lot more enjoyable :)

Looking at Shane's old art did give me another funny idea but I'll have to draw it another time, I want to get better at drawing the other bachelor's so it'll have to sit on the back burner for a bit!

[astralis-ortus]

lifetime worth of luck

✱ husband!bc x gn!reader

— omelet with fries for dinner, anyone?

w.count → 0.3k genre → romcom warning → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe a.n → a comeback attempt, heh♡ don't wanna make promises since i'm not sure if writer's block is entirely gone, but i'll try to be around more♡ ⋆ see masterlist

it’s at times like this when you feel like you’ve used up all your luck for this lifetime.

“are you sure you don’t need my help?” you giggled, eyes trailing your husband’s broad back while he’s busy fighting against the uneven mushrooms with the help of your trusty knife. he might look intimidating with the muscles he’d been carefully sculpting at the gym for years on end, but frankly, chris could be somewhat of a clumsy toddler in the kitchen.

“i’m suuure,” he whined, and even without him turning to face your direction, you’re pretty positive his lips are all pursed up like a cute little duckling with a couple soft creases between his eyebrows.

“don’t you trust me? huh?” chris continued, still with his playful, whiny voice while he carefully attempts to chop another bulb of mushroom, “don’t you trust your own husband? huh? huh?”

oh, isn’t he just adorable?

“of course i trust you!” a giggle escaped along as your laugh finally simmered down, cheeks now feeling a little sore from all the laughing chris had squeezed out of you for the past hour since he stepped home.

you realize how lucky you are to have chris.

through chris, you knew what it’s like to be loved. you now know how to be the receiving end of a relationship, and it might be a slow process, but chris made you feel like you finally have someone you could call home.

you really, really are lucky,

hence, you think it’s time for you to end your husband’s suffering.

“but you do know you don’t have to be that careful for omelets, right? you can just roughly chop them up since you’re going to add them into the egg mixture anyway?”

and judging from the way his muscular arm had frozen in its spot,

chris had forgotten that one detail.

“…babe!”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[onehelluvafan]

Soo... anyone else notice this look from "Better Than Blitzo" right before he kissed Stolas?

Yeeaahhhh, quick question. What the fuck?! lol

It's the epitome of "blink and you miss it," taking up just two frames, which is a single illustration in Helluva Boss.

I actually spent two months making a 30 minute video on this that I uploaded to YouTube back in August. Unfortunately, my channel was taken down in the latest algorithm crawl, but if you’d like to watch it, here’s a link to it on Odysee and BitChute.

Otherwise, buckle up while I take us on a journey ✨ I have three basic ideas I'll be delving into, split into three posts:

Part One: His tattoo—what it is, what it means, and what (or who) it could be linked to.

Part Two: Verosika—how and why she could have orchestrated things.

Part Three: Just an ex??—what his personal motivations could be for taking the time to check if Blitz is watching before kissing Stolas.

Keep reading to dive into Part One!

Before we dive in, just a quick heads-up that I will not be referring to this Incubus as “Better Than Blitzo.” Partly because it’s kind of long but mostly I just really like the nickname I’ve given him, which is: “IncuBlitz.”

IncuBlitz Part One: His Tattoo

I’ll start things off with the tattoo on IncuBlitz’s arm and its possible significance.

Because this thing is strikingly similar to Stolas’ crest, leading a lot of us to wonder—Is IncuBlitz some sort of Stolas stalker?  Or does he work for someone in the Ars Goetia who has a similar crest?

In both cases, I think the barometer is going to be how similar his tattoo is to Stolas’ crest, but I’ll go into a little more detail on why he might be working for another Goetia and who it could be.

I think Aldreaphus, Stolas’ brother-in-law, would be the most likely candidate in this scenario, considering that we’ve already been introduced to him and his manipulative nature. 

In Western Energy, we see him convince Stella to call off the hit on Stolas so that they can wait for, and possibly even create, an opportunity to take advantage of him later—be it for his position, wealth, power, or all three.

Even more compelling, we see what appears to be an attack or takeover by Aldreaphus at Stolas’ palace in the trailer for the second half of season two.

It’s been theorized that he may be hoping to take over Stolas’ position partially because in mythology, he’s actually already known to be an astronomer. 

This would obviously overlap nicely with Stolas’ duties, which would make him a prime candidate to take over his position—be it temporarily until Octavia has finished her training, or perhaps even permanently depending on what he’s capable of and willing to do.

So far, we’ve only seen this brief glimpse of him in Western Energy, so we don’t know yet what his actual cannon position is in the Goetia family. The mythological Andrealphus is not associated with any sort of ice powers, so it’s possible that this is where any likeness between the two ends. 

But regardless of any previous knowledge or affinity for astrology, I can see Andrealphus being interested in Stolas’ status and position. Whether it’s to have for himself, or to get close to Octavia so that he can take advantage of his influence with her in the future.

So, in this theory, IncuBlitz would have been strategically placed to get information from Stolas, keep tabs on him, manipulate him, and possibly even to further drive a wedge between Stolas and Blitz.

For any other Goetia, the desire to keep Stolas and Blitz apart could just be for appearances and maintaining the social structure that they’ve put into place. 

But if Andrealphus is his employer, I think he would have a different reason to keep them apart. And that’s to keep Stolas from having someone who can protect him.

Because if he knows anything about either attempt by Striker to assassinate Stolas, then he would be aware that in both cases, Blitz or someone under Blitz’s employ, intervened. 

The first time, they completely stopped him, causing the assassination attempt to be a failure, which resulted in Striker having to actually flee. 

Then, during the second attempt, despite it being called off by Stella, Moxxie and Millie’s intervention did prevent Striker from bringing Stolas to Stella and Andrealphus, which is what her explicit instructions to him had been.

Now that I’ve covered how a Goetia could be involved, let’s move on to what I personally believe to be the determining factor for both aspects:

How similar is IncuBlitz’s tattoo to Stolas’ Crest?

Because if IncuBlitz is actually a stalker, we would expect the tattoo to be as close to Stolas’ crest as possible. And if it belongs to someone else in the Ars Goetia, that implies that Geotic crests, in general, would all have at least a heart in common.

So far, the only crest we’ve seen that we know to be associated with the Geotia family belongs to Stolas. Considering that we’ve only ever seen his crest displayed within his own palace, I’d say that, at best, it’s unclear whether other demon royalty also have similar, heart-themed crests.

But let’s explore that a bit. 

The seals that we’ve seen so far, belonging to several Sins, Paimon, and Stolas himself, all seem to have the same basic structure.

This could lend credence to the idea that other Goetian royalty could also have a similar crest to Stolas. But personally, I don’t think it’s likely.

Mostly because Stolas’ crest seems to reflect him personally. From the tip of his five-pointed crown down to his cloak and neck accessory.

We haven’t seen much of Aldreaphus’ castle, but in the room that is shown, there does not appear to be anything present that resembles a heart.

In fact, we don’t actually know yet if Aldreaphus is canonically a marquee in the Hellaverse, the way he is in mythology. So it’s possible that he doesn’t have a crest at all if those are limited to the upper ranks of royalty. But if he does have a crest, I think it’s the snowflake that’s depicted on his chest and plateware.

At first, I thought his crown being shorter than Stolas’ and only having 3 points was an indicator of lower status. Especially considering that we see Stella, Octavia, and Baby Stolas with similar crowns.

But after realizing that Paimon’s also only has 3 points, I dug a little deeper and found this.

Apparently, there is something called a Celestial Crown that has five points, which are usually depicted with a star on each tip. 

With Stolas’ job as a Goetia being to study the stars, it makes sense that his crown would be reflective of his line of work. 

Considering this, I don’t think Andrealphus’ ice-themed crown and possible crest give us enough information to determine whether he is or is not a marquee.

But either way, there doesn’t appear to be any evidence to support the theory that IncuBlitz’s tattoo is reflective of a connection to himself.

Now, let’s take a look at the tattoo and compare it directly to Stolas’ crest.

One thing I noticed was that even though it doesn't look like his normal crown, he is wearing a crown that looks similar to the tattoo, both as a child and at this particular party as an adult.

I went back and scrubbed through footage of the entire show, trying to find any other instances of this kind of tattoo or imagery.

While Verosika and Millie both have heart tattoos like the one on IncuBlitz’s lower back, the closest thing I could find to the tattoo on his arm is the door to the prototypes at Ozzie’s.

This has led me to believe that it might truly just be a heart with a cupid’s arrow pointing down. Though it does look a little odd with the additional v-shape between the arrowhead and the bottom of the heart. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to represent a bow or is just a stylistic choice, but, interestingly, the heart on the back of the romance novel that Stolas is reading at the beginning of this episode does have something similar going on.

So, in the end, I think his tattoo might genuinely just be symbolism. An indication that he’s a kindred ‘romantic’ spirit, maybe who also wears his heart on his sleeve; Or even simply that he’s just not afraid of love and romance the way that Blitz is. If so, perhaps it’s intended to be another implication of why he is “Better Than Blitzo.”

Click here for Part Two: Verosika

[apple-salad]

Not Rose Basket: An Approx. 5 Year Old Remake Project

In which I attempt to make a Rose Basket JSK.

Read below the cut for my process and crafting notes.

Did you know that all Mary Magdalene "prints" use commercial fabric excepting Perfume Bottle (their first and only original print)? What this potentially means is that scraps of fabric featuring familiar MM motifs sometimes can be found floating around. It seems like at some point, someone found the original Rose Basket fabric and had it made into a JSK (likely by the handmade Taobao store that is known for making MM replications if the buyer provides fabric) in Mary Magdalene likeness.

The resulting item was a good attempt, especially given that the maker only had tiny stock photos to work out the general shape and print placement, but definitely there was something to be desired...

When I saw this JSK for sale, I felt that I had a decent remake project on my hands. I had already been looking for MM (or MM-like) materials for a while, so I figured I had the capability to bring up the piece to its full potential. I don't usually take on larger/i.e. actual garment projects, but this piece was a very strong case for giving it a try.

However, such projects are not without their pains, aren't they? Even with some semblance of a garment existing in the form of this dress, one may as well have been starting from scratch.

Unfortunately I didn't take many photos of the "before" dress so the pictures I do have don't really give it a fighting chance (it's so wrinkly and overexposed), but the shape was pretty much all wrong. However, it had good bones due to good fabric being used, and I knew I could make it better.

Laid flat and from afar, the JSK actually looks okay but there are numerous areas where it falls short. I'll talk about them shortly.

I was initially pretty excited to work on this project, so I pretty much seam ripped it apart right away after receiving it. Little did I know it would sit in parts in a bag for years...

Part 1: Trying to remember what I was doing 5 years ago

In terms of materials, I searched within Japan/Japanese sources using Mary Magdalene's original material terminology as reference. Unfortunately it had seemed that the original "shirurido" lining material had been discontinued, but it had a successor material that was almost identical when I bought a small amount, so that ended up not being a worry. The original lining is a little bit offwhite/ivory, so I purchased white lining and tea-dyed it. This colour will likely lighten as I wash it.

Many think that this light lining material that MM often uses ("for spring and summer" garments) is cotton, but it is actually 100% polyester! However, it does have a great hand feel and seems to have wicking properties as well, so there's no reason to discredit this poly.

Oddly, the wine rose basket specifically uses this kind of more chunky/slightly less structured braid. The other 3 colorways use a firmer type with the same wavy style. I managed to find a shop that carried both types and just bought as much as I felt was appropriate.

I was actually told that the firmer braid had been discontinued (which maybe explained why MM chose a different one for wine--there wasn't any stock of the other braid in red?) at the time (this was ~2017), but currently as far as I know the loose braid has actually been completely discontinued now and another company has picked up selling the firmer braid (maybe the machine that makes it was purchased by another company).

Dot tulle was thankfully not difficult to find. The colour matches perfectly, so I knew I had the right one 🙂

Now, let's break down the original dress.

Note that I did have the original Rose Basket (in a different colour) to use as a reference, which helped immensely.

The silhouette is obviously not quite right, although attempts were made to match seams similar to the original. The measurements are also different (likely made to match the buyer's requested dimensions) with the bodice being a little bigger. The skirt is also shorter, but I think that is just a mistake of the original seamstress.

The tulle is not very nice/cheap looking and the lace is also totally wrong. Those definitely had to go, so ripping off the lace and taking off the lining was first priority.

The lining material was a light cotton. It was okay, but cotton lining doesn't have the slipperiness of the original lining fabric so I preferred replacing it.

The lining and skirt lining would be completely remade from scratch, but obviously since I only had a dress' amount of original rose basket fabric, I would have to use what I had.

I initially focused on the skirt because it was the easiest portion to tackle as a pleated rectangle.

The original dress had the tulle sewn/serged onto the main fabric. This is...you could say, "incorrect", and changes the way the tulle sticks out of the skirt (as you can see in the comparison pictures), so I opted to just cut it off as closely to the serged edge as possible. It seemed sensible to leave the edge alone (rather than rip out the serging) since at the time I didn't have a serger of my own and the edge being already hemmed is convenient.

The original dress uses some kind of serged edge+blind hem stitch, while the replica more lazily folded over the bottom edge and used a line of stitching to secure both the braid/lace and the hem.

When comparing the length of the skirt to the original rose basket, the replica actually has more fabric folded into the seam due to the method used. Thankfully, the length of fabric used for the skirt was actually pretty much perfect when using the old hem fold and I guess the shorter appearance may have been due to other factors (cut of the bodice and length of tulle lace used maybe?).

Because it was easy to leave things as-is, I used this same hem fold and sewed the new braid onto the hem with two lines of regular straight stitch for security (two lines of stitching are consistently used on MM garments to secure braid or lace, although some older items may only have one line).

(I actually made a mistake here which I'll get back to later)

I attempt to use a method similar to MM to create the skirt lining layer. Dot tulle is cut into strips, gathered carefully (I don't have a ruffle foot so I used 2 lines of straight stitch+gather by hand since it tends to gather more evenly and look nicer than using only one, and I wanted to use some care here) and then attached to the skirt lining.

Without a serger, I used my machine's hemming stitch (it's a bit ugly, but it worked okay) and then topstitched the ruffle flat.

I also tried to take advantage of the lining selvedges so I wouldn't have to hem. Any extra fabric with raw edges I had to sew on to match the hem circumference of the original lining also was roughly machine hemmed.

The dot tulle doesn't need to be hemmed, but MM has neatly clipped the bottom edges of any tulle seams so the seam looks cleaner, therefore I did the same. (Sorry the picture seems to have turned out a bit blurry)

I can't really remember well, but I think it was at this point that I initially thought my job was done until I realized that the replica dress' pleats did not line up properly with the original. The widths were all wrong, possibly because the original seamstress had to make some modifications to the skirt pleat proportions to match the adjusted bodice measurements?

The skirt circumference and the way the fabric is cut for the skirt is somewhat different from the original dress, so I had to do some careful adjusting to get the pleats to have the same width and overall appearance as the original dress. I think some of the pleats are not as deep as they should be but you can't really tell with the final result. Such is the trouble when you have to work with what you have and there is no extra fabric available!

It was at this point that I took a break from the project because the bodice was next and that was, of course, a very daunting task. I think I had marked out some seam lines for adjustment on the front piece, and I had also decided that the back piece could remain sewn to the side back portions since they weren't too far off from the original appearance (the original back panel is actually only one piece of fabric with darts--the seamstress of the replica had used 3 separate panels for the back instead, so there are inevitable differences).

I also spent some time making new bows for the rose basket as I was not satisfied with the ones included with the dress. I don't have any pictures, but I dyed cotton sateen dark wine and that was a huge pain since red is a very tough colour to dye. I also made some mistakes with my bow making method (they were initially interfaced and used too much fabric in the middle which made them look too thick), so they were also left as unfinished pieces for a while.

Anyway, many years pass...

Part 2: The revisit

I would like to think I am maybe older and wiser 5 years on, with a more sewing expertise, but I'm not really convinced about that. Anyway, maybe I was better equipped for trying to adapt the bodice because I have a mannequin now.

I had previously had a bit of trouble fussing with the curves of the bodice flat with my fabric pieces, so I threw my mint rose basket on the mannequin and tried to match the seams carefully. Although...this mannequin might have been a tiny bit busty for rose basket and deformed the shape a bit.

Apologies for the cutout PNGs from here on out, the background was way too chaotic for me to let you see it.

It is at this point that I am wanting to put the project down again and really not enjoying working on this because trying to gain a rough pattern, and carefully match seams is not very fun and rather exhausting, requiring a lot of back and forth checking things and making sure I don't mess anything up.

After marking seams and having some confidence in the shape, I sew the front back to the sides again.

Thankfully, it seems like the pieces have enough fabric to create an original-looking bodice, but I suppose that was my expectation given that the original bodice measurements were a little larger than the actual MM dress. It's interesting to see where the original pattern cuts differ compared to how they should look and be sewn.

My first attempt at sewing the front together had a little too much of the print stripes showing at the sides, so I brought them in a little and tried again. When scrutinizing where the print is placed relative to the seams of the original JSK it once again becomes clear where the pattern cuts were a little off in the replica, but it isn't too bad and I think this result is almost indistinguishable.

There is a decent few centimetres of excess fabric at the sides (which was completely expected as the extra bodice room of the inital dress had to go somewhere), but I avoided cutting it down because it's precious extra fabric...

The only real modification the back needed was some small adjustment of the corset loops. I think I had also previously increased the seam at the very bottom of the back side panels because the original dress has this kind of "widening" (circled parts) that gives it a slight dropped waist.

I check both front and back portions, and when I am satisfied with the result I sew one of the side seams together.

Pretty much a completed bodice, the other side seam is left alone for now since zipper insertion will come last.

I can sew on the braid now. It is at this point while I am looking at the braid and realizing that is has a "right side" that I seem to have sewn the braid onto the skirt wrong (those many years ago...)

A 50% chance of getting it right and it was wrong!

While I'm sure a regular person would not care, I felt that it was worth repairing the mistake so the dress could be as close to the original as possible.

Fixed trim on the right.

I spent a few grueling hours ripping out the braid and reattaching it in the same method as before.

Braid also attached to the bodice.

I am wishing I had a complete dress by now, but unfortunately not...getting the bodice lining sorted is next...

MM's Rose Basket has a facing using printed fabric, however since I have no extra fabric to use for it and the dress I was working with didn't bother with adding that kind of detail (the original lining was just plain cotton with no facing panels at all) I decided to use this untextured rose basket fabric.

I originally considered just using the same lining fabric for the facing panel but seeing the dress laid flat with a matching printed facing is a detail that somehow enhances my enjoyment of looking at it a lot.

This fabric is from a reprint of the rose basket fabric from a couple years ago. It is also discontinued now but is very lackluster compared to the older fabric in my opinion. It is a rather thin quilting cotton and doesn't seem as vibrant as the original fabric, and has slightly different contrast colours. While you could still make a garment with it, I feel like it doesn't match up to the fabric used on the old rose basket because of the new fabric's sheerness.

However, given fabric supply limitations (i.e. I don't have anything) I think it's a decent nod to maintaining having self-fabric for the facing and will not be seen when worn.

Lining pieces are similar to the bodice pieces I traced out earlier so I used them as a reference and checked the shape with the lining panels on the original dress (on my mannequin).

The back lining seems to have a centre back seam as opposed to the outer fabric layer that had no seam/darts, and is made from 4 panels total.

Lining complete.

Next I attach the bodice lining to the main bodice piece, along with the straps. I mark where the straps should go based on my reference rose basket, sandwich them between the bodice pieces, pin and sew.

I left the straps as-is from the original replica dress. These are made from two strips of fabric sewn on each side, vs MM having used one strip and folding it in half. Just a different way of achieving the same thing, I guess. Of course I would have preferred the method to be "same as the original" but once again, no extra fabric... (I think I may have asked my SS to ask the seller if they had any extra and to include it if so, and the seller said they didn't have any...)

I also sew an elastic channel (sort of like topstitching) all the way along the top of the bodice about 1cm wide for later.

At this point I think that I seem to have pleated my skirt lining wrong. however, I may have just misinterpreted the other side of the lining pleats as the side that was "wrong", so I ended up having to repleat multiple times in my own confusion.

[it hurt itself in its confusion!]

Anyways, after that fiasco I baste the pleats down and attach the skirt lining to the bodice lining so I can check the length.

It's coming together!

I sew the outer skirt to the outer bodice fabric next, a step that makes me very nervous because if the seam shaping is wrong I feel that it could mess up the silhouette of the dress quite severely. To try to diminish this, I baste the bodice in sections to the skirt by hand, frequently checking beside the original dress.

I ended ripping out my basted skirt pleats and re-pleating the entire back because I didn't feel like the pleats were aligning well.

After sewing the outer skirt to the bodice, I once again check that the lining length is okay (it was a bit too long at the back), finish inner seams etc.

I added the elastic to the channel I added earlier now. Unfortunately I think I should have encased the elastic while stitching in the channel because it was a huge pain to get distributed properly and I had to unpick some sections to get the elastic to spread out and then carefully try to invisibly re-stitch. The elastic is gathered more around the armpits/sides than the front and back.

Last task is attaching the zipper. The dress has a completely encased invisible zipper with no zipper tape edge showing from the inside. It seemed like the lining was sewn on separately after the main fabric was sewn to the zipper, but I ended up folding over and seaming the inside by hand because it seemed too complicated for me to sew the lining to the zipper cleanly with my machine at my current ability level.

Zipper attached, definitely a lackluster job... I don't have a proper zipper foot and the cheap plastic invisible zipper foot I have is definitely not helping with keeping the zipper allowance even. I hope to fix the skirt seam alignment issue here and sew the zipper seam (especially near the top) closer to the fabric, but I'm not entirely sure if I'll ever be motivated to do that since the dress is now "wearable".

I actually also carelessly clipped the excess zipper tape at the top thinking that was what I should be doing even though it seems like MM has cleanly folded it in on the original dress 😢 (can't attach a photo as I'm pushing the post image limit as it is)

Since it was kind of getting down to the wire to the day I wanted to wear this dress, that was when I roughly finished/handsewed the lining to the zipper tape on the inside so the dress can be worn without any terrible consequences. What I should do next is fold in all the upper seams nicely, actually machine sew the lining to the zipper tape so the seam is clean, sew in a hook and eye to the top of the zipper, and add threads to secure the lining to the inside of the skirt + loops for the ribbon belt, but as of now that has not been done.

Dress finished (?) (how does it look beside the real rose basket now...?)

Unfortunately, I feel like I'm not entirely satisfied with how this turned out because although I had tried hard (especially at the beginning) to have clean work, as the project went along I think a lot of places ended up sloppy (like stitching lines on the inside), and the final piece still didn't end up exactly like the original (the bodice seems to be a little shorter somehow but I had no extra fabric especially along the side panels to make it longer, so I think it's a point that I can eventually accept).

Anyway...to finish off I finally add the lacing ribbons and prepare the detachable ribbons.

For the bows + ribbon belt, I have a length of cotton satin ribbon and finished off the bow brooches I started previously. For whatever reason, mint rose basket has burberry material bows, but I believe all the other colourways use sateen bows so I used cotton sateen for these. The original wine dress did come with a long, wide poly satin ribbon and two detachable small ribbons, but I have no idea where I put those relative to the dress and I didn't really like the way they looked anyway.

I took my old handmade bows apart to fix their dimensions (they were slightly too long) and also fixed how the middle fabric was folded, and then sewed them to some nice sharp brooch backs.

While ironing, I noticed that apparently I didn't rinse the fabric well after dying and adding water made the bows bleed. Not great. (I later soaked them in dye fixative and the bleeding issue seems to be better now)

These pictures use the bows from my Valeria JSK (which seem to be approximately the same wine tone), but it's always nice to have a separate set for each dress. I may remake yet another set of bows with a different cotton satin (slightly thinner, not self-dyed) eventually.

Finished, or at least as finished as things are going to get for now.

As I will be wearing this JSK in future outfits, I'm a bit torn as to how I will tag and label it in posts. The design for sure is Mary Magdalene's, and this dress is a big tribute to it, but it's also definitely handmade and not legitimate MM. I'm actually not even confident about labeling it handmade by myself because I didn't technically hand make all 100% of it (at this point, only the initial cutting out of pieces was not my own, but somehow this lack of initial patterning and cutting step bothers me and makes me feel like I didn't put in all the work a handmade piece usually would be). I will probably have a hard time not adding some additional comments each time it comes to adding a label to it in future photos.

Anyways, now I have Rose Basket at home.

Thank you if you read all the way to the end like this!