#although it doesn't seem like it but it takes quite a while for us to finish one post

[dullard]

ok heres my wakfu/waven oc sorry i wrote so much. In a few minutes ill add the text written on the image under a readmore. and also probably more text than that. sorry

The text on the image:

Siamont -Waven-era -runs orphanage -mute, no tail -Before Waven's great wave, he was a Sufokian fisherman along with his dad -He lost his younger brother (who he sort of raised) in the wave -With the influx of orphans post-wave, he started an orphanage -He's used to Sufokia's relative acceptance of less "humanoid" races. As a result, he doesn't want to associate with the countries because they tend to exclude or oppress "monsters" (He takes anyone @ the orphanage) (Arrow pointing to top drawing) -He's very patient with all children, but he has none for threats to them (mostly pirates) (Arrow pointing to his tail tuft in the left drawing) His tail was amputated when he was a child. Sufokian rogue pirate mafia incident. This trauma was why he initially stopped talking, he just never really started again. He still doesn't really like rogues. (Arrow pointing to him smiling nervously in the right drawing) Wishes the little iop would stop hitting crabs with a rock but she's so proud of herself he doesn't want to interrupt.

More text no one asked for:

He's very gentle with kids and has a small island orphanage that scrapes by on donations and goodwill. At high tide, there is no sand and the building (ramshackle. Siamont's been adding onto it and building it himself, mostly. As a result, it kind of looks like a boat, actually) looks like its floating on the water, but at low tide there's plenty of space for kids to run and hunt for extra food like molluskies and cwabs. Most of the kids' clothing seems to be repurposed from pirates. If you ask, the kids will tell you he sends the little ones off with the older children to take care of them before handling pirates by himself. Because they don't have much to steal anyway, there haven't been groups of pirates big or strong enough that he couldn't handle it, getting by without major injuries.

He takes on any kids at all that need help. This means trools, puddlies, taurs, and other less-humanoid "monsters." He does try to get children of those groups with their own kind if he can, but twelvians have a less communal child-rearing style, so most of the kids in the orphanage longer-term are twelvians.

Also, he tends to keep people in each of the cities aware that his orphanage exists. Many parents come looking for their children they lost track of during or after the wave. Mostly, this is where donations come from.

As a kid, he tended to be the "babysitter" for quite a few fisherpeople's kids, including his younger brother. He's just always liked kids, although he was less gentle when he was also a child himself and had a tendency to yell and get angry, which he doesn't have anymore.

Sufokia has a lot of pirate rogues who have a mafia-type hold on the Sufokian economy (source: wakfu game lol). He and his younger brother were getting into normal kid trouble and stuck their noses where they didnt belong. A pirate stomped his tail under his boot to stop him fleeing, and they toyed with him for an hour or so before letting him go (in spite of a lot of "well, he might talk- he could be a spy" type talk). His tail had to be amputated, and he just didn't really talk much after that.

His younger brother was studying to be a lawyer as he wanted to finally get some of the more open rogues behind bars for crimes that were hard to address to them. Siamont considered him to be the family's pride and joy, while his brother appreciated Siamont taking on the family profession with their dad and helping him pay for school. Their dad died sometime before the wave. Their mother was not present in their childhoods, and their dad didn't really talk about her much.

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover !

featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)

notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!

Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)

About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.

About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.

About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.

Gepard Landau

About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?

About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.

About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.

Jing Yuan

About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…

About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.

(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.

Jingliu

About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.

About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.

(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.

Kafka

About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?

About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~

About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.

© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[reticent-writer]

Spiral p1

warnings: a bit violent, shitty parents

(it doesn't go into details)

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

"You killed your parents?" He was genuinely shocked as he watched you nod. He lived for tea like this but coming from you he couldn't help but be confused.

"Why on earth would you do that. You told me that you loved them."

"I mean I did but they were- wait my death led to yours?" You changed the subject.

"Yes, I simply cannot function without you, my dear. I was hiding a body in the woods when I was shot in the head." He said it as if it was a fond memory. It was creepy but as he talked a red X appeared on his forhead. the moment he saw you staring it vanished.

"You can't change the subject, Y/n. When and Why did you kill your parents?"

You sighed as you went to tell your story, "They were an odd pair, in my opinion, they should have been divorced. My mother was drunk, always talking about how she never liked my father but had 6 kids with him, I was the eldest. My father always talked about the life he could've had if he didn't settle for my mother. When my father lost his job he became a drunk and often got violent with us. After a while, I got tired of it and told my siblings to go to a friend's house for the night. The next day they were found dead by the neighbor's, No one was caught."

"That must've been quite a night." He joked.

"It was, it was also the night I met you."

"Really? You seemed so.... happy."

"Because I was."

From then on the two of you talked daily

You had learned that he had been missing from the public eye for 7 years

He started calling you pet names he used when he was alive

He told you things he would never tell anyone else

You met husk and niffty

You started to like him again but you could never forgive him for killing you

nut you considered it when he started working for the hazbin hotel

You were a patron

Although you didn't believe that sinners can change you decided to give it a shot

"Well good morning, My love. It's such a nice day today, would you care to join me for a trip to the tailor? A nobody took a bit off me." He grinned from ear to ear while offering his arm of you to take. You accepted.

At the tailor the two of you while the two of you were waiting for his jacket you suggested he try on more suits for a variety of clothes.

"How does with one look?" He came out in a blue suit with a black button-up. (his colors in reverse)

"You look amazing." You beamed as his posed.

"So this is a yes?"

"Of course-"

"Sir your jacket is ready."

Alastor paid for the new suit and his old one. Outside of the shop was a crowd surround a tv broadcasting Vox.

Alastor told you practically nothing about the other overlords but you could tell he did not like Vox and the way he looked at the TV confirmed it.

"Come along, dear. There's nothing to see over there."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Alastor beefing with Lucifer and cursing is so funny to me💀

Taglist: @berryghostbunny, @lorkai, @mygoldtears, @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd, @secretkoalapersona-blog, @koji-akeme, @lofasofabread , @msyolocat-blog, @elementress44, @luujjvi, @justmare

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 3]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )

(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)

(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )

It is the day of the court meeting.

You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.

You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.

Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.

Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.

You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.

Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.

Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.

Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.

Guess you're right on time, Alastor.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"

The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."

You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.

She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."

Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.

Oh and so did Alastor's right after.

"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."

Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.

"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!

Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.

Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.

You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?

The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.

The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.

"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.

You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.

Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"

Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."

Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.

Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.

"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.

"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.

------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------

The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.

So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?

Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.

It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.

Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.

Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.

-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------

Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..

And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.

Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.

Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.

"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.

"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.

Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"

"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.

Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"

"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."

She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.

You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."

Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.

Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.

With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"

'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.

You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.

"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.

You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.

You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.

The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..

Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.

Right?

Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?

Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.

You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.

You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.

You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.

"Fine. Let's get to work."

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

Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.

With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.

"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.

"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.

"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."

Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.

Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.

He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.

He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.

"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."

He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.

Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.

"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.

"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.

Oh..

Right, yes, red.

"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.

He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.

How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.

No one better have saw it.

You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.

"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.

You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.

Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..

'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'

"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.

In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.

Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.

Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.

But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.

Oh god, he's grown soft.

This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.

But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.

His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.

He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.

Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.

He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.

If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.

Oh if only, only she were here now.

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(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!

most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)

[awearywritersworld]

she mumbled that i was peculiar

sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist

it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.

when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.

before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.

so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus

it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.

how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?

the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.

even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:

"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.

although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?

are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?

he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.

all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?

yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...

he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.

it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.

"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.

kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.

no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.

"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."

"i can see that."

"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."

yeah, definitely too annoying.

"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.

"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."

he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."

"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"

"you'd be the first."

"i don't mind making history."

you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.

"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"

you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.

the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.

so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.

when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.

making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"

he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"

"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.

gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."

"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.

"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."

most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.

"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."

"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."

"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.

just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."

he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."

"well, put it on anyway," you insist.

he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.

stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.

"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."

you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."

"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.

despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.

you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.

offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.

"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"

his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."

"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."

"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."

"you're so mean to me."

"hardly."

"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"

"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."

you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.

"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.

he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"

"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"

"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."

"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"

you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?

wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?

just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.

he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.

it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.

his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.

you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.

the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.

one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.

two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.

there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.

then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.

you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.

there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.

needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."

you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.

"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.

he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.

sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.

"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.

the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."

"who?"

"they'll kill me if i tell you—"

sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"

his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.

"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"

"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.

neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.

the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.

his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.

your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.

inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.

"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"

he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"

"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."

you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.

though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.

sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"

it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.

"those men would have hurt you."

"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.

"yes— it does."

with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.

looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."

you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.

he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."

you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."

god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.

he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.

how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.

had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—

she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.

it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.

you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.

you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.

and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.

to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.

you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."

he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?

you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.

"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.

"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.

"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"

"stop," you interrupt him.

there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.

instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.

"i was so scared, 'kuna."

and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."

"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"

"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.

sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.

when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."

he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.

it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.

he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.

do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?

when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."

he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.

he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.

but now? all it does is terrify him.

"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."

it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.

"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."

your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.

it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"

the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.

"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.

and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.

at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."

the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"

he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."

he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.

"i guess you're right."

and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.

when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.

he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.

he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.

and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

[catgriffin]

I've heard a couple people argue against radioapple because it's mainly just sexualizing the two. While that is true for most of it. That doesn't mean it has to be. Because listen:

What if, in the final battle, Lucifer is taking on an entire army of angels for the sake of his kingdom, his daughter, and his new friends. Alastor watches helplessly as Lucifer had ordered him to stand by, because even Alastor would surely be killed. He watches as Lucifer is cutting down angels, they're dropping like birds shot out of the sky. Even so, their numbers become overwhelming and difficult to manage. Alastor, realizing the danger Lucifer's in, for the first time, feels concern.

Lucifer finally starts taking damage, the angels swarming him. Alastor's feet move before his brain has time to process what he's doing. Inky, black tentacles launch him into the sky, back to back with Lucifer, he uses shadows as a shield to protect Lucifer from an angelic spear headed straight for his heart. Why is he protecting him?

Alastor, one of the most feared overlords, a serial killer and cannibal, narcissistic, psychopathic, heartless, evil... finally started caring about someone else more than himself. Respect, strength and fame means nothing in that moment. Just that the first person he's ever loved is safe.

What if Lucifer's light finally chases away Alastor's dark thoughts, tendencies, and insecurities? White light that burns away the shadows. Lucifer holding Alastor in his weakest moment. Reassuring him it's okay.

What if Lucifer is the one that takes Alastor down from his high horse and helps him through his inevitable breakdown? What if Lucifer helps him break his deal? Lucifer, fighting to save Alastor and telling him it's okay to not be at the top.

What if Alastor helps Lucifer out of his depression, teach him how to move on from what I'm suspecting was bad past relationships? They get over their dad rivalry and work together to protect and teach Charlie.

Their relationship doesn't need to be sex, it's just love and care, something I think they could both benefit from. I think Lucifer is autistic and speaking as an autistic person quite a few of us are somewhere on the ace spectrum, I really don't think asexual alastor would be any kind of issue for Lucifer.

(Edit)HAVING SAID ALL THAT I think radioapple might be better as just fan art and such because although I'm not aroace myself I can understand wanting the representation because it's true there doesn't seem to be much of it out there. If it were to become canon I think it's safe to say a lot of people would be upset.

[foone]

It's a time gun. A gun that shoots time. Not a gun to shoot time, that's a terrible idea. Time is messed up enough as it is without some fool shooting holes in it.

No, it shoots bullets of concentrated time. How much depends on the caliber. This gun is chambered for 24 hours. (Although the weird thing is that despite anti-time definitely existing, this gun has no anti-version: there's no anti-gun of time. Instead you just load the gun of time with anti-time bullets.)

So what's it do? Well, you know the saying that time is a river? Well, rivers have splits and tributaries, where some of the stream is split off and eventually catches up with the main body.

This shoves you off into one of those, as you're given more time than the general world has. You get some time that no one else has, until you resynchronize. You're in a frozen world of no time, with only you and any other simultaneously desynchronized people able to move and interact.

This may seem powerful and useful for those hit by time bullets, but it's less useful than you'd think. Your ability to interact with the world is quite limited. And the length of the time you have is critical: 24 hours is a good amount because it's quite survivable, any longer and you're likely to die of thirst or hunger. You can't eat atemporal food or drink atemporal water. Some nasty chronomancers have been known to build time guns of months or years, meaning their victims are instantly replaced with a shriveled corpse, knowing it wasn't a quick death, but a slow and painful one in a lonely world of unfeeling statues where the sun never sets.

You can still breathe, though. That one is... Well, if you can figure out why, there's a prize from the University of Towers for you. Since the existence of the temporal aether was disproven we really have no idea why that happens.

Still, a short trip into personal time can be safe and useful, if properly prepared. Pack provisions and books and writing implements and take it in short jumps, and you can get weeks worth of writing or studying done in a single night.

Anti-time bullets are simpler, at least simpler to explain. They similarly desynchronize your personal time stream, but it results in you Not Being until the timelines align. From your perspective, that happens instantly, with a moment of the standard temporal nausea. For everyone else, you're just gone until you can make up the missing time. So it functions very much like a time jump forward. A 24-hour bullet of anti-time brings you to this time tomorrow, with no time having passed for you, due to your temporal deficit.

It seems safer, at first glance. No risk of starvation, no isolation, just a blink and it's later.

But there's always the problem of telefragging. The universe doesn't like when two things occupy the same space, and while you're gone, your former and future location are accessible. There may be nothing but air there when you return, or there may be a wagon, a person, or a rock. And the results when you return are not pretty, or even explosive.

It's been experimentally verified* by chronomancers that the end result depends on how much of the returning being overlaps with the existing matter. Less than half, and they merge, in ways that are gruesome and almost always fatal. At best, you might lose a limb or a digit due to the overlap. At worst, you're dead instantly and your body is now merged with some other object in ways that will make the funeral closed-casket, and the casket will be an unusual shape.

More than half... Well, the universe REALLY doesn't like it when matter overlaps with other matter. It explodes, violently. Very violently. One chronomancer even suggested this might be used as a weapon of war, by building a siege engine that collides a large animal like a ocean-whale with a large block of limestone, utilizing a short anti-time trip to overlap them. This idea was shot down immediately, as was the chronomancer who suggested it. She'll be officially censured when she reappears, around 28 years from now.

* the tests were performed on standard laboratory voles**, not human (or other sapient) test subjects. All experiments were done with ethics board approval and whenever possible, time loops were employed to unperform any experiments that resulted in the death of test subjects.

** rats, often used elsewhere in science, can't be used here as their natural temporal abilities interfere with the experiment. See "there is only one rat", V. Tollens, U. of T. Journal of Time, TE 436.

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[akutasoda]

hi hi ml!!! we’ve only recently become moots but i hope you dont mind me joining your event 🫶‼️ if star rail is still open, wb boothill & aventurine !! with general domestic stuff !! specifically cooking or baking with him ;; i wonder how that would go

also thank you again for the opportunity 💕💕

a life with you

synopsis - a domestic lifestyle with them

includes - aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, domestic stuff, fluff, slight angst at the start, slight crack, teasing, wc - 675

a/n: hii ren! don't mind at all <3

aventurine ★↷

↪a domestic setting to aventurine is something to be treasured with your loved ones. he loved his family and he still does but now after all this time, the person he gets to experience domestic bliss with is you.

↪to him, being with you in that domestic style is one of the only places where he can show his weaknesses. it's just you and him so if you've made it this far with him he trusts you enough to show his most vulnerable side.

↪it would be a change of pace compared to his life as one of the stonehearts but a very welcome change. he'll let himself indulge heavily in the moments of peace with you as he knows that being with you is the closest thing he can get to being safe.

↪due to being a stoneheart, he is prone to being sent across the galaxy quite often and with you in his life he does try and get back to you as quick as possible. alot of the time he gets back late as well so doesn't encourage you to wait up for him but if you do, his heart melts so much.

↪once he gets really comfortable with you, you can start seeing him become more open and honest with his words and actions. he likes to embrace you whenever he can and sometimes catches himself unconsciously searrching for your figure even if you're right next to him.

↪maybe has some cooking or baking skills but would be extremely limited - very open to learn however and whether it's out of genuine interest or just an excuse to be with you is up in the air. very willing to help you anywhere and so cooking or baking is no exception.

↪would be a surprisingly good baker/cook. it takes him a little while to get into it but when he does he becomes very efficient. no accidents would occur when you two cook or bale together and whatever you'd make would turn out very good.

boothill ★↷

↪a galaxy ranger, a bounty hunter, a cowboy. boothill was many things, constantly moving around to chase his next target - he didn't live for himself afterall. he never settled in one area for too long and so domestic activities were irrelevant in his life.

↪he probably had a higher probability of experiencing domestic activities when he was human but definitely not as a cyborg. he just doesn't have time for such trivial things that wouldn't give him the homeliness that it would to anyone else. or so he thought.

↪you made alot of things that seemed pointless to his cold metal body worthwhile. he may not be able to feel the same feelings he used to but atleast with you he could fully convince himself that he could. so that domestic feeling becomes real to him.

↪ it's never really a dull day when boothill's around, although if you asked him he'd tone down his slight hyperactive mind. he isn't that energetic at home but he can get very loud and annoying sometimes especially when you knwo he's trying to tease you

↪he's very touchy both in and out of a private setting, sometimes tones it down if you aren't really a pda type. while he may not be able to feel you under his cold fingertips he can instead feel a comfort in knowing nobody would dare mess with you when you have him practically slumped on top of you. also is a massive bed hogger - you have to fight him for even a slither of the bed.

↪cooking probably isn't one of boothill's strong suits. whether or not he actually need to consume food is unknown - he probably doesn't but because he does have a human face he probably can still taste. however he'd gladly entertain you if you wanted cook or bake with him.

↪ absolutely no help whatsoever. most likely does not know how to cook or bake but would insist he does just to nearly set things on fire. if you really wanted him to help you probably have to distract him by telling him to hand you ingredients or stir things but then he'd insist to help - do you think he could pull up recipes in his mind?

akutasoda's 1k event

[flmer]

★ oh no! it's the baby apocalypse! (2) ┊ wc:

content: talks of baby stuff, crackfic?

pairings: idia & malleus x gn!reader. (seperated)

note! I finally did the part 2! although the last part would be Kalim and Jamil.. This was stuck in my drafts and I just noticed now. part 1

idia.

idia is the type of dad to spoil his child since he doesn't really know what else to do, he isn't used to saying affectionate words but he does make it up by spending time with the child and spoiling them.

I believe that idia has some experience in handling kids because of ortho so he wouldn't technically be completely clueless about fatherhood. (also there's a chance that he watched those family animes)

when he first saw his child, he froze. he froze like an ice statue because he's in shock like wow?? is that really his baby?? (the baby literally has his fire hair.)

he's awestruck because of how adorable the baby looks and not to mention how cute it is... idia promises that he'd do anything to make his child smile

he spends his free time bonding with his child by watching numerous animes and playing games that's child friendly of course, even though the child could barely talk... but it is quite endearing to hear the nonsensical babble of your child and idia nodding along with whatever they just said as id he understands them.

“I probably won't be able to buy that much merch anymore... unless I make my child enjoy gaming and anime >:) ”

malleus.

he would isolate his child without knowing he's isolating his child inside his castle. it was how he was raised but his child won't be completely isolated just protected. malleus wants his child to not have the same childhood like the one he had.

malleus would be king by the time he had a child but that doesn't mean his child would rarely see him, no. malleus grew up without experiencing his mother and father’s presence in his childhood that's why he makes sure his child always sees him. malleus's child would practically be in the throne room playing with toys and malleus's tail and also talking gibberish nonsense with the guards that's stationed in the throne room mostly silver and sebek. the scenario goes like this: malleus on his throne listening to silver and sebek's reports while his eyes sometimes stray to his child and his mouth would twitch and turn upwards- the reason was because his child is now currently munching on silver's long cloak while their hand was occupied with grasping sebek's pants. it was an eandering sight.

the first time he saw his child, he cried. the fearsome dragon fae king was shedding tears like a newborn baby and it was because of the mere sight of his child. when the child first opened their eyes- malleus saw his own striking electric green eyes staring right back at him and that was what made him have a wide smile on his face as his child reaches for his horns with their small closed fists.

lilia sometimes makes sure to visit just so he could spend some time with his precious grandchild, yes, his bangs got burned again by a similar green fire that came out of the mouth of the baby he's holding. malleus saw this happen and his reaction was to chuckle while sebek fretted over lilia's now smoking bangs but lilia only waved him off saying that he's used to it by now, and silver is just standing there with a soft smile on his face.

malleus takes you and his child out every night to walk with him in a forest that malleus used to go to back when he was a child whenever he feels overwhelmed with his feelings. the forest is a beauty with it's thorned vines that seems to wrap around trees, there were also some glowing fairies lingering and lighting the beautiful forest. the forest was the meaning of peace and beauty.

malleus hums a familiar lullaby that he used to sing for you back when you both were still at nrc, his hands caressing you and your child's hair as he wraps his arms around the both of you protectively as if the both of you would disappear out of his arms.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sharks

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: Viv comes to your house and you tell her about sharks

Viv's been at your house more often now.

It's a little strange.

Viv never used to come to the house by herself.

Always with your aunties and the other Arsenal girls.

Never alone.

But now, she's always at the house by herself. She comes home with Mummy from training and they sometimes have sleepovers in Mummy's Big Bed. Sometimes, she cooks you breakfast in the morning or helps pick you up from nursery.

It's weird.

The only person that's been around this much is Daan but she's gone now. It's not that Viv's taking her place but it's just a little weird to have someone around all the time again.

"Mummy!" You call," Need help, please!"

You're trying to get your favourite crayon set out but it's trapped by all the clutter in your toy box. You tug again but can't quite seem to get it.

"Mummy!"

"Hey, liefje." It's Viv instead of Mummy and you stop to look at her.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Beth's on a phone call. Can I help?"

You think for a moment before nodding. "My crayons," You say," Can't-Can't get them."

Viv peers into your toy box, seeing the way that your crayon pack is at the very bottom. Beth warned her about this, about the fact that you had a habit of drawing on everything you could (even the walls) so your crayons had been placed at the very bottom, buried under everything so you couldn't get at them as easily.

"Here, liefje," She says, pulling them out. She hands them to you.

"Thank you, Viv," You reply. You dump them onto the coffee table with your colouring books.

You've got more than one so you look back at Viv, who doesn't quite seem to know what to do with herself now that she's left completely alone with you with no Beth to act as a buffer.

You scamper back to her side, sliding your hand against hers. "Colour with me?" You don't wait for an answer, pulling her with you to sit cross-legged at the coffee table.

You shove a colouring book at her before flicking through your other one to decide which one you want to do. It takes a little while to choose, looking between the shark and the jellyfish.

You end up choosing the shark.

"D'you know that sharks have a lot of teeth?" You ask Viv as you colour," They lose 'em a lot so they need to have a lot more to make up for it."

"Wow," Viv says as she colours too, although she's mostly just watching you," You're very smart. Do you know any more shark facts?"

"Uh-huh. Baby sharks are born with all their teeth," You change your grey crayon to silver," Mummy says it's good I wasn't born with teeth because I used to try to bite things."

"Really?" Viv sounds amused.

"Yeah but I don't anymore."

You grab green to colour in some kelp. "Baby sharks are called pups," You continue," And baby sharks don't stay with their mothers. That's sad. I want to stay with Mummy forever."

"You're very smart," Viv says again.

"Sharks are my favourite animals!" You reply before shooting to your feet. You rummage through your toy chest before returning with arms full of stuffed sharks.

You lay them all out on the table, pushing off all your crayons. You sit extremely close to Viv, closer to her than ever before.

"This is a hammerhead," You say, holding one of your toys," 'Cause their head looks like a hammer. And this is tiger shark 'cause it's got tiger stripes. And this is a whale shark. It's like a whale but it's really a shark."

"Wow."

Viv's pretty happy to sit with you and listen to your explanation of sharks. In all honesty, it's pretty impressive how much you know and you're clearly so happy to tell her so she's content to just listen.

Which is how Beth finds you both later, when she's finished her phone call.

You're practically in Viv's lap, excitedly explaining the new shark added to your collection.

"Hey, y/n," Beth says and you immediately stop talking.

"Mummy!"

You hurry to her side and hug her tight.

"Hey," She says again, a hand running over your head," Did you tell Viv all about your toys?"

"My sharks!" You nod and let Mummy pick you up, balancing you on her hip.

"Your sharks," She laughs, bouncing you slightly," Come on, Viv. Didn't you say that you knew some nice restaurant near here? Let's order dinner."

●～●～●～●～

Slowly but surely, Viv's things begin to appear in the house.

It starts small, some of her clothes and a phone charger. Next it's some of her books and then her trophies and medals. It happens so gradually that you don't even realise it happens until suddenly Viv's taking care of you on her own and never going back to her own house.

"Mummy," You say one evening as you lay on Mummy's chest while Viv does the dishes," Does Viv have a house?"

You bounce a bit from the force of Mummy's laughs. "What kind of question is that?"

You look at her. "Viv's always at our house. Does that mean she's not got a house?"

"Where have you gotten that idea?"

"You said that Daan didn't have a house anymore when she came to live with us."

Mummy sits up and you know this is going to be one of her serious talks.

"Well...Do you remember when I told you about dating?"

"When two people want to be romantic so they hang out and do stuff together."

"Yeah, that's right. Well, after people date for a bit, they move in together."

You think about that for a moment, trying to translate that into something you understand. Sharks don't do that.

"Er...Why?"

"So they can spend more time together."

Sharks don't move in with each other. Sharks don't date. It must be a human thing.

Mummy takes your silence as an invitation to continue. "And Mummy and Viv are dating so she's moving in with us."

You think about that too, finally putting together that Mummy and Daan must have dated as well but don't anymore because Mummy and Viv date now.

"Viv...lives with us?"

"She does," Mummy says," Is that okay?"

"Viv gave me a new shark," You say to Mummy instead," It's a basking shark. It's cool. Viv's cool. She can stay."

Mummy releases a long breath and affectionately rubs your cheek. "I'm glad. I like Viv a lot."

"I'm glad too," Viv says as she approaches," Otherwise I'd have to give this to some other little girl."

You don't know where she's gotten this new shark but you're very happy.

Mummy shrieks though. "Viv! That's disgusting!"

"Goblin shark!" You look between Mummy and Viv. "They're my favourite!"

It's horrifically ugly and you love it so much.

"Thank you, Viv!" You say, giving her a hug as you take it, hurrying over to what Mummy calls your 'shark shrine' to introduce your new friend to all of your old ones.

"It's so ugly, Viv," Beth complains as they both watch you play," It's going to give me nightmares."

Viv chuckles. "Just wait until you google what the real thing looks like."

[radiance1]

Danny doesn't get into an accident, and he doesn't become a ghost. The portal? It does get turned on, although neither Danny, Jack, nor Maddie knew how it came to be, and nobody thought to ask Jazz because, well, she is utterly disinterested in Ghosts as a whole and everyone knew it, so why would she even be in their lab, and even more so near their portal??

Danny, along with having an affinity for space, also has one for stealing here, though he knows that it's wrong he just... loves do it. He loves the thrill that comes with taking what isn't his, and the chance at being caught in the act as well.

He got better at it than when he was younger, and it isn't like he keeps most of the stuff he steals. Well, most of it at least.

Anyways.

Danny is good at stealing, Danny likes stealing, but his family is already used to his antics, though his parents do have some kind of ghost thing going what with the portal to hell and what not, but he digresses. One day, an old family friend pops up and Danny is curious about him, interest doubling when he finds out the guy is rich.

So he steals something off the guy when they met, and he successfully stole some weird gem thing off the guy- Vlad or whatever- or at the very least, he thought he did. Because when Danny was in his room, Vlad knocked, entered (after getting his position obviously), and then said he would like his possession back.

Danny is quite surprised, but gives it back after asking how Vlad knew he stole it, Vlad just looked at him and smiled (Did his eyes just flash red?). Then said that Danny has a talent for stealing, and, well, Danny always knew he did, it was obvious really.

But hearing someone praising him for it is quite different from disappointment and lectures about why it's wrong when they find out it was him after a while.

Then he offered him a place where he could train said talent, and, well.

Danny didn't have anything better to do, really.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but actual stealth training wasn't it, nor was Vlad creating an actual goddamn museum filled with items of value with an actual security system and guards (He thinks they're robots) for him to actually try against.

This was... wildly out of Danny's depths. But again, he didn't have anything better to do. His grades did fall overtime since then, but he didn't really care much about it, it wasn't like he was some genius like Jazz, so why bother?

His friends bothered, but he just told them he was spending time with his godfather you know? Nothing bad or anything! Sam and Tucker wanted to meet him, and Danny took them along.

Vlad was a cool dude, and seemed to click well enough with Danny's friends, and much to Danny's chagrin was utterly appalled by Danny's falling grades, and told Danny to focus on his grades more, or he'll have to cut back his training to include studies.

Danny picked the latter.

A while later there's been the appearance of some ghostly hero who fought other ghosts and avoided his parents. Which is neat, he thinks. Sam was very interested in her, and Danny couldn't say he wasn't curious either.

Then that whole 'Amity Park hostile plant takeover' happened and uhhh. Sam developed plant powers and then somewhere along the line Tucker gained super intellect and then Danny is the only normal guy out of the three of them.

Well, he is a master thief in training but still.

Regrettably, Sam's parents don't like her newly developed powers, because she doesn't use it how they want her too, and Sam decided to stop using it all together, then Vlad popped in and was like "You can use your powers in this place I have prepared specifically for using powers" and told them not to question why he had such a room, because it looked pretty used and obviously not newly built.

Tucker becomes really good with tech, like, really good with it. Sam gets very powerful with her plant based powers, and Danny is kinda feeling... out of place? In his circle of friends.

He's a bit jealous, he won't lie.

So he asks Vlad if there's a way for him to get powers, and Vlad thinks on it for a bit, and says that there is but Vlad would need to run a few simulations before coming back to him.

A bit later, and Danny is taken down to Vlad's lab, Vlad asks if he's sure, Danny says yes, and then he goes under.

Then wakes up, and he has ghost powers. Although he doesn't have some of them, like intangibility, invisibility, or overshadowing (he never even knew they had that power) like normal ghosts though, but he isn't a ghost, so it made sense.

Vlad said he had to modify his body to be able to contain ectoplasm without any unnecessary risks, which is why Vlad took some time instead of doing it straight away.

Danny is stronger, more durable, more agile, stronger reflexes and stronger stamina, so Danny had to use Vlad's training room to get a proper grasp on his powers, and then his training had to be modified to suit his powers and it really good, suspiciously good.

Did Vlad have another student with superpowers before Danny? Is that why he knows how best to train Danny's powers, and also why he had a training room?

Then he completed his training, and he could finally be called a fledgling master thief! Then Vlad employed him in his service, to get some practical experience outside of Vlad's control.

First mission? To infiltrate, obtain a copy of and then wipe away any and all files in a GIW facility, Vlad asked Sam if she was willing to go with Danny, as her powers would prove useful, she agreed. Tucker is staying behind, as deploying him is much more danger than it's worth, he will be the one to hack into, copy, and wipe away the files when Danny and Sam gets to them though.

Vlad warned them, however. Because the city they're going to in one rife with crime and supervillains, so they'll have to lay low, and even lower because they don't want to catch the eyes of the night's protectors.

Which city are they going to?

Gotham City.

[mcflurryxx]

What is this feeling, now?

hazbin hotel | Alastor x fem!reader. pt.1 pt.2

genre: fluff

word count: 0.9k

summary: Alastor has been feeling totally different when he's near your presence. He decided to tell Rosie about these odd feelings.

Keep in mind that English isn't my first language, i sincerely apologize for any mistakes!

Once in a while, Alastor visited Cannibal Town to soothe his nerves and neverending thoughts. His mind wasn't that hard of a nut to crack, although sometimes it seemed nearly impossible to restrain.

And tonight might just be one of those terrible moments.

Alastor sat on his favorite, little bench in the quiet part of the town. He found this place really charming and beautiful, there's always been something warm and cozy here. with a bit of flowers and various little plants nearby, even tho he lived in hell, which meant that the fauna and flora wasn't as common as it is on the earth, it all truly looked quite lovely.

Somehow, this little bench has been the only thing that managed to let him think.

this time, the source of his problems was not anything that threatened his life. or at least it was so at the first glance. Why doesn't he understand his own feelings? The heat waves and annoying throbbing of his heart whenever he stands close to you.

Pathetic, ridiculous. What was it really like? Satan knows.

But Alastor apparently wanted to know what's been happening to him and put it to an end.

"Alastor? Oh heavens! I didn't know you were coming!" A woman dressed in red exclaimed happily, approaching him.

"Why hello, my dear Rosie! I should've let you know I'm bout to visit, but it was quite spontaneous." He chuckled mischievously.

"My, my, do not worry too much, I'm thrilled to see your charming self."

Rosie took a seat next to the radio demon, admiring the truly nice view.

"What brings you here?" She smiled softly, awaiting his answer but getting none. Alastor on the other hand, decided to tell his friend about his troubling 'disease'.

"Well, I always come here when i don't feel much like myself." he chuckled. "And today's the day it seems! I might be getting sick! Looks like my old age is finally taking its toll."

Rosie rises her eyebrow, her smile staying upon her face.

"Sick? Oh, Alastor, you've got the jokes on you! But what made you think you're sick?"

Alastor's grip on his cane tightened. "I've noticed that I was starting to get hot, sweaty and not very comfortable. My heart is beating unnaturally fast and my knees feel like they're made of cotton wool. This all happens whenever my friend is next to me. I'm probably allergic to her!" He laughed out loud to brush the symptoms off. Rosie's eyes enlightened, her smile even wider than her usual one.

"Alastor, you silly little guy," She giggled, immediately understanding everything. "You're not sick, nor allergic to your fellow friend! That's a nonsense."

"So what's happening to me?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

You were about to finish your daily check up on the hotel before you go to bed. Everything looked fine and peaceful and all of your friends were asleep- except one.

You haven't seen Alastor in a while. Was he even somewhere near the hotel? He probably wasn't in any trouble, as cocky as he might be, his attitude wasn't made up at all. He was powerful and just the mere thought of it made your worries disappear.

However, you still had no idea where he was. You decided to look for him in the lobby, the first floor and the kitchen.

Nothing.

After you went to check the second floor, a glimpse of red, fluffy hair outside of the window caught your eye.

Soon, your friend has entered the lobby, closing the door behind him, using one of his shadows.

You ran up to him as soon as you saw his usual grin.

"Alastor? Where have you been? You.. You made me worry." You stated, fighting the urge to pull him into your arms without even letting go.

"I was having a walk around the town, my dear! My apologies if i made you worry your pretty, little head too much." He said in his signature radio voice.

Really? Just a walk around the town had lasted that long?

"Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Are you heading to bed?" You asked softly, maintaining your usual caring demeanor.

Alastor seemed to be somehow absent. You noticed his irises traveling along your silhouette, his hands lightly trembling as attached to his cane.

"Hey, you alright?" You asked, smiling a little. Alastor snapped outta his thoughts, chuckling nervously. "Of course I'm alright, darling! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you seem.. Odd." You lifted your head upwards and your eyes met with his. The furious red of his pupils caught your attention. Was he scared?

Alastor took you by the hand, lifting it all the way up to his lips. He let out a soft laugh, planting a long kiss upon your knuckles. You blushed as widening your eyes. The sweet sensation of his flattering, soft lips made you shiver. You sort of wanted them somewhere else now- But you won't be telling him anyway.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. May you have the sweetest dreams." He gave you another, charming smile and after a quick bow, he went up the stairs, towards his room. You stared at the empty hallway, already missing Alastor's presence.

Why do you even feel this way?

a/n: let me know if you're up for part two! I'm not really proud of this but any feedback would be much appreciated!

[iamnmbr3]

I find it incredibly creepy how Dumbledore views Riddle as being this sort of inherently seductive 'femme fatale' type. In book 6 he implies that Tom used his looks to endear himself to his teachers when he started school and hide his supposedly inherently evil and corrupt nature.

Like. Albus. DUDE. Tom was ELEVEN. Why would you assume that teachers would be swayed by or even paying attention to the attractiveness of an eleven year old?! WTAF?

And then he portrays the Hepzibah Smith memory as another example of Tom using his seductive charms for evil. But although he does bring her flowers he doesn't do anything else to encourage her and in fact seems uncomfortable and determined to keep the conversation focused on work.

She is actually the one who is being creepy here given the power differential between them. I mean, yes, Tom is putting up with her because it suits his designs for the moment and could and would kill her in a second if provoked. But even though we know that she certainly doesn't. As far as she knows she's creeping on this young store clerk without wealth or connections whose job depends on keeping her happy.

And certainly while she enjoys his looks and his attention she also seems quite happy with the persona he puts on where he addresses her in a highly respectful manner, not as an equal. She's certainly not complaining about how he calls her Miss Hepzibah or asking him to drop the honorific. She likes that. She likes that he addresses her not much differently than how her House Elf does. She likes his whole "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told" thing. And as far as she knows he is just that, with no particular special power or talent other than his good looks which she evidently appreciates. This is not him leading on and taking advantage of an innocent sweet old lady.

And yes he brings her flowers, presumably to keep her happy, but other than that he tries to keep the conversation professional and steer the discussion towards the purpose of his visit. He doesn't say anything overtly flirtatious or even try to prolong their discussion by asking to see some of her other things.

She brings that up on her own. Nor is there any indication that he is the one that decided to move their relationship in this direction. It seems more like she saw a young and good looking man, apparently far below her in terms of station and magical power, and made her move. He probably isn't the first.

The way she casually touches him is just so creepy to me. And though he tolerates it, he did nothing to encourage or solicit it. Riddle is someone who is in general quite averse to touch. We only see him voluntarily touch one person in 7 books and that's when he touches Harry, just for a second in book 4, just to show that he can. I don't think he enjoys this kind of attention. He was probably glad to kill her for more than just the purpose of getting the cup and the locket.

And yet none of her creepiness is acknowledged. Instead, Dumbledore draws our attention to how Riddle cruelly seduced and murdered a nice old lady whose affections he sought and then betrayed:

[lunaekalenda]

K I N G - S I Z E D B E D

warnings: and there was only one bed, unintentional voyeurism?? (does that even make sense?) a.k.a suguru is fucking someone on the room next to yours, they're already in love and the declaration brings passion to the night, mutual masturbation, oral (f! receivingg), use of petnames as "love" (mostly love), you keep hearing suguru during some of the scenes, 17k words, author's not good at smut, fem!bodied!reader

Neither you nor Satoru can sleep.

The idea of all the friend group sleeping at Suguru's after the party wasn't good from the start, but now, sharing room and a king-sized bed with Satoru Gojo, even though you've been in the same friend group for ages, makes things quite awkward. Because all this years, you've held a massive crush towards him. Satoru clears his throat, looking at the ceiling, in the very same position as you.

The party started early, but no one thought you would be still on it at five a.m. That's why Suguru - owner of a big penthouse. - offered you all to stay. The rooms were quickly decided: Utahime, Shoko and some of your friends use the living room, while Nanami and Haibara share another one. Suguru was clearly sleeping on his room, although you surprisingly saw how your friend followed him upstairs, giggling and taking his hand to let him guide them towards his room. The only ones left were you and Satoru.

"I can sleep with the boys. They can make room." he says, yawning softly. You've been outside, sharing a soda and taking some fresh air, and when you came back all the rooms were occupied but the guest one. For some reason, both Kento and Yu quickly turned his offer down. You're not really sure on why, but still, they all smiled to Satoru before closing the door in your faces.

And now, when you thought maybe sharing the second floor room with him wasn't that bad, you start hearing how Suguru and that friend of yours break the bed in the room next to you, which makes things even harder. You can hear the headboard slamming against the shared wall of your room, the way his name comes out in yelled moans from time to time and, of course, the sound of the bed moving along with their bodies. Satoru clears his throat again, and you cover up to your cheeks with the sheet. He speaks softly, but his words are clear towards you.

"Wanna play truth or dare?" The innocent question intrigues you, as you sit in bed, back against the headboard while you nod. Satoru sighs and sits as well, facing you, blue eyes focused on your face. "Do you wanna start?"

Although you have a hundred questions in mind for him, you seem unable to ask none. What if the answer isn't what you wanna hear from him? Taking a lot of courage, you keep your eyes on his while asking, trying to ignore the noises the other room still make. For some reason, you feel like Satoru's funny grin isn't about the noise, but about the game.

"Truth or dare?"

During the first rounds of the game, you've learned a lot about him: he's single, he's interested in someone of your group and he doesn't like alcohol, although the last one is known by all of you. He loves sweets and has a hard time sleeping. He likes science and he has also took off his socks and sent a DM to Mei Mei asking for money as part of the dares. The game pace is quick and the noises seem to be muffled by your laughs and voices, and the ambience is way more comfortable now. You two even sat closer when he dared you to tell him a secret on his ear.

"Truth or dare?" he asks. You think a couple of seconds, before answering. "Truth."

"Would you have something with me?"

Your cheeks feel heated as your eyes find his fun ones, looking directly at you with a side smile. He raises a brow softly, still mocking you, or so you think. He gets a bit closer, nothing too extreme, to brush his thumb on the soft blankets under your bodies. You clear your throat. You might not have another opportunity like this one. The noises and moans from next room are audible again while you stay silent, meditating about telling Satoru how you feel about him. Not able to stand your silence a bit more, Satoru speaks.

"If it helps to make you think, I would gladly have everything with you."

Your heart skips a beat and he keeps looking at you with those shiny, blue eyes, still smiling, teasingly, towards you. The ambience feels a bit heavier, hotter, more intimate than before.

"I would too." Both of you feel as if a heavy burden was took off your shoulders when you speak again. "I would love to." His cheeks blush softly as he smiles towards you. You feel your body trembling from emotion, and you take air before asking him.

"Truth or dare?"

"Can I kiss you?"

He has sat a bit closer, body tingling, aching to touch yours. His feelings have been buried deep down for so many years, his fear to rejection bigger than his hopes to be reciprocated. He doesn't know if it was the fact of sharing a whole bed with you or the lovely show his best friend is giving you, but his brain couldn't handle it anymore. You smile, changing from your sitting position to kneeling on the bed, closer to him. Your eyes are fixed on his lips as you lick yours, right before speaking.

"Dare, then."

His lips collide against yours with necessity, and his hands search your waist to take you closer to him. His touch is soft on your skin when his hands graze your naked skin between your t-shirt and your pajama shorts. His kiss feels too good, and the way you've been craving it makes you kiss him more fiercely, deeper, needier. Satoru answers back with the same passion, hands still gripped on your waist as yours rub his nape slowly, fingertips dancing on the start of his undercut. When both of you part for air, heavy breaths mixing and hands still on the other, the movements of the bed next door get more and more noisy, as the pace of the knocks on the wall gets faster. Satoru smiles before pecking your lips again, and again, and again. He catches air before speaking. The air of the room burns your skin and your body moves closer and closer to him.

"Should we show them we can make much more noise?"

You peck his smile, the strap of your t-shirt falling down your shoulder. He hums as he takes it on his hand, about to rearrange it, when your hand stops him. Your fingers tangle around his large palm, taking his hand to the other strap of your pajama. Satoru keeps his eyes on yours, locked, and his voice leaves his mouth as an exhalation.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks. He has been madly in love with you for a long time, but maybe it's recent for you. He doesn't want to rush things, although his bulge starts to be uncomfortable under the pajama. You nod, because you want him, no, you need him. Since his lips touched yours and since his fingers found the bare skin of your waist, you've desired to get more and more of him.

"I do." your voice doesn't sound like yours. It's tinted with lust and neediness, and Satoru could hear it for hours. His whole body tingles while he takes you second strap away from your body.

As soon as the fabric is not in your body, his lips replace it. He drags a long, wet kiss from your shoulder up to your neck, slow, soft, tender. He speaks against your jaw. "Ask me to stop if needed, and I will, alright?" you only can nod to his words. His lips find your jaw again, the corner of your mouth. And, finally, your lips again. Your kneeled body gets between his legs, and your hands caress his skin under the t-shirt he's using. He feels the same tingle again when you touch him, as if he can't get enough of it. Your hands touch his shoulders and his neck, his clavicle and his chest, before you part with a sigh. His hands grab your ass softly, inviting you to sit on his lap. Taking both legs to his sides, you sit, feeling something pressed against you as soon as your body rests on top of his. He blushes. So cute.

"Take this off." you whisper to him, and he does, obediently, taking the corners of his t-shirt and pulling from his neck. His upper body gets on display for you, and your lips easily access his neck. He plays distractedly with the ribbon of your trousers, needing more and more of you. You quickly take your top away, skin exposed to his hands and his lips, and he's eager to kiss and touch you. One of his hands sneaks towards your thighs as his tongue is occupied in your nipples. Your hands wander over his body, his abs and his sides, until you caress him above his trousers. You're nothing more than two bodies tangled, almost naked, caressing each other, kissing each other, finding all the spots to make the other feel good. His fingers pinch your nipple while he licks his lips. "Could you take off your bottoms?" he asks. You show him a smile before kissing him again. His hands are still wandering over your clavicle when you take them, using them as balance to stand in front of him. He lies back in bed, supporting all his body on his elbow as his other hand finds quickly its way to his own pajama waistband. You take the corners of yours, and his voice stops you when you're about to take them off.

"Do it slowly. I wanna get every detail." in his eyes you find adoration, and you crawl towards his body, leaving another kiss on his mouth, whispering against it.

"Then, why don't you take them away yourself?" your tone is a tease, and your smile an invitation. Satoru takes your lips in his as he takes your body closer, hands sneaking inside your shorts to take them down slowly, caressing every curve and every inch of skin. You moan against his kiss when his hand grips your ass softly, and he wants to make you moan again. Goddess, he wants to make you feel so good.

He parts, taking your body again in his embrace, his chest against your back and a kiss on top of your head. His hands wander free over your body, squishing your breasts and caressing your tummy, before he speaks against your ear.

"Are you really sure?" he asks in a whisper. You nod twice, thrice, showing his hand the trail to your panties. While his soft palm slides down, you make yourself comfortable, legs open and knees flexed, when his hand arrives to your underwear. He slides a lazy finger over it, pressing on the right points, caressing on the wet spots. Your whole body trembles when he does so, moving closer to him, hand on your mouth to keep inside the moans you wanna release when the soft fingertip of his index enters from the side of your pantie and touches you directly. Your body moves against his finger when he shushes.

"Love, don't keep them inside. I wanna hear you."

You've imagined this for so long, alone in the dark of your room, with a pillow under your body and erratic movements of your hips, moaning his name in low voice as you imagined it was him who was making you feel that way. But nothing compares to the feeling he's growing in your with a simple touch of his fingers. "So wet... were you enjoying what they did, hm?" his voice is raspy against your ear, sending shivers and making you drunk in it. "I bet you'll feel amazing." his finger probes your entry, slowly, softly, tenderly. He lets a growl escape when he feels how your wet hole sucks him in easily, juices shinins around his long digit. "So wet and good aroun me..."

Your legs tense when two of his fingers make their way into you. You can hear the noise of the room next to yours again, hard, loud. Your cunt pulses around his digits and Satoru giggles. "Patience, my love. I'll make sure you enjoy every single second of it." his free hand roams around your waist, fingertips dancing in your skin as butterfly touches. "And for that, I need to see how your body answers to me. To my lips, to my fingers, to my touch." he drags his hand lazily above your tummy. "I want to make sure you won't get hurt." His words move you and his fingers get buried deeper, slowly, curved, touching places that bring sighs to your mouth. He doesn't know how much time he'll be able to sit behind you, feel your body rubbing against his and hearing the wet sounds and moans coming from you without coming in his underwear, but he's trying his best to resist. Your hips move violently against his fingers, riding them until his hand stops your body. "Patience, love." he repeats. Taking his fingers away from you, glistening and wet, he observes the liquid that covers his digits. Then, he looks at you, tenderly, but also full of lust. He spreads his long body in the bed, cock twitching against the fabric. Only the view makes your pussy clench around nothing. Asking for permission as you get closer to him, and getting a nod from his part, you slide both the thin pajama and the underwear. Your eyes are attentive to his facial expressions, to the way he bites his lips with his blue eyes fixed on you, to his hips needly thrusting up against nothing, to his grunts when your cold finger accidentally touches his shaft. Again on fours on the bed, crawling until his lips are a milimeter away from yours and your hand wraps around his cock, starting subtle movements he easily reflects sneaking a hand inside your panties. Your hands move at the same pace, follow the same rhythm and your shared kiss only breaks from time to time to take air. The image is more than explicit: you, balanced on your knees, with one hand on the blankets and the other subtly moving up and down his shaft, and him, lying on the bed, leaning on his elbow, all his height making possible for him to reach your lips and, also, your panties, that are tight due to the intrussion of his hand, and his knuckles show the pace against the fabric. He parts softly to let a loud groan escape, forehead against yours, his body thrusting against your fist lazily. "Do it harder, faster. Please." he asks in a whisper. You obey in silence, pecking the corner of his mouth as an answer when he lets a long moan escape. His hand soon adapts to your movements, a bit quickier but still pleasurable. Your lips search his desperately again, only to find you moaning against each other, breaking the kiss every single second to let know the other how good it is feeling. Mixed words of "more", "deeper" and "harder" can be heard in the room, and at this point, if someone walks through the corridor, they wouldn't know to what room do they belong.

"'Toru... Please..." Your voice sounds fragile as it breaks in another long moan, your hips rocking against his fingers in search of a deeper caress of them inside you. Your hand moves faster on him without you even noticing, Satoru's teeth clenching. He doesn't think he'll be able to restrain himself more. Your hand feels so good on him, the way your body searches his, the way his name comes out of your mouth as a trembling moan. He wants to hear you, to treasure you and to make you feel good every single day of his life. He takes his fingers away from you just to rearrange your position, spread on the bed under his body before he takes your legs with his big hands, spreading them, making room for him between your thighs. What you weren't expecting was him to lower his head until his tongue ghostly touches your already stimulated cunt. A long moan fills the room as one of your hands tangles on his hair. You can feel how he keeps jerking off while his other hand keeps your leg to a side. You're amazed by him, by his skills with every single part of his body, so far, all of them making you see stars. He hums against you, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine as his tongue keeps making circles, slow, going up and down on you. His hand on his cock gets quicker when his tongue does so on you, working hard to bring you close to the edge, when your hands pull his white locks. Still, he doesn't part from you.

"'Toru, I'm so close." your voice breaks half sentence. "Please."

"Then cum, love. Don't contain yourself." His movements are erratic on himself, and you feel you might not be the only one near. "So, so wet... And you took everything I gave you.. That's so sweet, you deserve it... Come on, cum on my tongue, yeah?"

His words are the last step, as you loudly moan before trembling against his mouth, feeling how he keeps working on you, kissing and licking, even through your orgasm. "That's it, that's it. So, so good." His own hips smack hard against his fist while he leaves sweet, little pecks that travel from your inner thighs to your core, sweet, soft, muffling the moans and the groans he releases when he cums. "Fuck." With a last kiss on your body, before resting his white messy locks on your lower belly, both of you too stunned to speak.

"That was..." you start, but you're unable to find the words to keep going. Satoru sighs before supporting himself on his elbows, crawling towards you until he's able to pull you in for a passionate, long kiss. The way you can taste yourself on his lips makes you a bit horny again. He parts slowly.

"Amazing. It was, definitely." he whispers. The room seems in calm now, without any noise, any disturb. Satoru lets his body meet the bed, and he opens his arms for you. Cuddling against him, he puts a blanket on top of both of you, your skin tingling with every caress of his hands on your waist.

"Do you think they heard us?" Realization hits when the calm arrives back. Satoru chuckles, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I hope they did." His hug gets tighter when he hums. "Know what? I hope they didn't. You sound too lovely to be heard by others." You snort to his words.

"You're gonna gatekeep my moans?" they way you expressed yourself makes Satoru giggle. You part from his embrace to face him, eyes against his blue, infinite ones. He pecks your lips.

"Of course not, love. I'm gonna keep you whole."