#he still feels like he's the monster in everyone elses story.

[wqnsho]

DIFFERENT

lingyang (wuthering waves) x gn! reader

SPOILERS FOR HIS STORY QUEST!

lowercase intended, full of fluff!

lingyang's story quest spoilers, (incase you haven't played it yet)

no dialogue (tried to do something new) hope you enjoy!

ever since stepping foot in jinzhou, lingyang knew who, or rather what he was. he knew he was different from his clients, young or old, he knew he was different from shuncai, who sells his food at his little shop, he knew he was different from his fellow liondance troupe to his master.

he knew it all.

he knew but can he accept it?

can he accept the fact that he is different from everyone he knows? "yes!" lingyang would reply in a heartbeat. his mind fast as light to give an answer while his heart hesitates to even think about it. no matter how many "yes" he would answer to questions like those, his soul would always tell a different story.

while there was nothing wrong with being different, it hurts just as much because he was alone. he had no one to talk to, to relate to his problems of self identity and where he belongs. that was until a person called rover came to his life.

rover...

that's what everyone calls them. while lingyang has his name, rover doesn't recall theirs and this sparked something inside of him. for a moment he did not feel alone, he did not feel different. which is why it was easy for him to open up his past, telling it to the rover without directly mentioning that he was the "jingle monster", that he was a beast, that he was the last suan'ni.

despite everything, the rover was a busy individual. they could'nt possibly be there 24/7 for lingyang since their always helping and fighting people left and right while finding their true self in a world where everyone wants them. that thought alone made lingyang frown. was he even valid for feeling that way knowing someone else has it harder? or was he just a selfish individual?

lingyang sighed the tenth time that night. sitting on top of the many boxes behind the stage with hands crossed over his chest, a troubled look swirled around his face. the crease on his forehead keeps getting bigger and bigger as time passed, so big that he didn't even notice the additional weight on the box he was sitting on.

before, a little nudge used to be enough to get his attention but now it seems like a scream on his ear wouldn't even pull him out of his thoughts. but that was alright, for lingyang, they're willing to wait. even if it meant falling asleep on his shoulder.

minutes passed and still, no lingyang on earth.

another, and another, and another... and another.

that was until he felt his own body moving. his arm tucked underneath his other arm moved without a second thought, catching the person who had fallen off his shoulder. call it his "animal instinct" if you will.

lingyang immediately looked over, curiosity and worry replacing his look of trouble. slowly but surely his worried expression begins to flow out as he releases a somewhat happy and contented smile as if he wasn't in a negative headspace earlier.

he looks at his surroundings before looking at the moon which was directly above them.

a look of surprise immediately took over his face, guilt hurriedly seeping into his veins. just how long did he spend sitting there? was it too long that—

huh...

lingyang looked over again at the person sleeping on his arm and minimal movements, he moved the person in his lap, providing them a comfier place to rest on. he couldn't help but smile and in the lowest voice he could muster he whispered...

[name].

[name], a fellow resonator, one of the outriders in jinzhou, sometimes his "lower half" during performances.

[name], who found him sneaking at the outskirts of jinzhou, who welcomed, showed and toured him around the city on his first day.

[name], who helped him ever since he was new. who was there sleeping on his lap, who stayed with him during his times of trouble. with a look of adoration, lingyang combs his hand through their hair hoping that he could provide comfort as they sleep.

lingyang smiled, as flashbacks of both of them immediately played in his mind. from when he first met them, until now. with one final look at their sleeping face, lingyang looked at the moon above.

thanks to the rover, he finally got the affirmation that he doesn't have to be human or a suan'ni.

but thanks to [name], he was happy that he was different.

because if being different meant being close to one another, lingyang will always love being different.

currently on wuwa grind! feel free to add me^^ mostly active on ASIA server but I do have a SEA one.

anyways, lingyang is so cute! but his dialogue either makes me cringe or laugh 😭

lingyang; sorry you have to see that side of me, rover

[gloryinthunder]

I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.

It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.

He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.

But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"

And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?

So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.

And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"

Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.

He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?

And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?

This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"

Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.

He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."

And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.

Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.

And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.

And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.

I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[merbear25]

Having a spicy dream about you

You'd crept your way into their minds when they were at their most vulnerable―sound asleep. Your captivating nature seduced them in their dreams, leaving their bodies susceptible to the aftermath in reality.

CW: SFW but very suggestive (wet dreams), gn!reader

Monster trio

Luffy: indulging in a celebratory feast, he imagined you there by his side sharing laughs and fun stories with everyone. Having an abundance of food splayed out for you, stuffing his face with whatever he grabbed, your hand got caught in the crossfire. Nearly shoving your hand into his mouth, the bonk you gave him on the head snapped him out of it. The short fit of bickering that followed somehow morphed the scenery to only the two of you; everyone else was gone and you two were starting to lightly poke at each other’s sides, which led to tickling and eventually had him fully on top of you.

Clanking from the kitchen broke his spell and the seductive aroma of breakfast fully got his attention. Marching into the kitchen with his belly empty and his smile full, his grin was turned upside down when his eyes fell on you. Bits from his dream were hazy, yet those parts at the end with you were the most prominent.

When you greeted him, he simply stared at you, trying to force those remnants of you deep into the crevices of his mind. Taking his seat, you were rightfully confused and taken aback by his coldness but decided to drop it. In doing so, you never found out what his deal was, but even if you had grilled him, he would’ve taken it to his grave.

Zoro: Giving each swing his all against each foe that threw themselves at him, he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Failing to live up to their reputation, the clan cowered, but that was until their leader, who’d scurried off earlier, came back with you in chains. Trying to get the upper hand, they’d sealed their fate, for the wielded blades came crashing down on the empire they’d been building. With you having been terrified for your life, you wanted nothing more than to thank your hero. He was feeling particularly self-indulgent and allowed himself to get lost in the pleasures you were so willing to give.

Seconds before the dream progressed, a large wave crashing against the side of the ship jolted him awake. Wide-eyed at the lude subcontext, he couldn’t do much for a moment other than blink. Shaking off the thoughts of where the dream was heading, he wiped the sleep from his eyes. The sun was blinding, so he didn’t notice you approaching him.

“Hm?” He glared at your muffled yapping.

“I said your back’s all wet!” You laughed off his rigidness, since he looked rather silly sitting with a grumpy face and soaked in sea water.

Brushing off your giggles, he avoided eye contact. He didn’t want to be reminded of how he’d pictured you in his dream. You could expect the rest of the day to play out like this: minimal, mostly one-sided, conversations. He had no intention of telling you about his dream and would rather shove it away, so as not to die of embarrassment.

Sanji: The sea breeze had just picked up as the setting sunlight casted upon your face—your beauty only rivaled by the gods. You'd just pulled out of a steamy kiss, your taste still lingering on his lips. Looking deep into each other's eyes, you motioned your head lower. Vision blurring from your generosity, a loud crash from the kitchen rudely awoke him.

Jolting awake, he was still in a daze. Shouting came from the kitchen, making him roll his eyes at the assumption that Luffy had something to do with the commotion. Peering down, a wet patch had started seeping on the covers. Throwing on the first pair of pants he saw, he waited for the redness in his face to subside before venturing outside his room.

If it were any other day, he’d be thrilled to see your lovely face. You were still as gorgeous as ever, although it was torment to gaze at you with such thoughts of ‘if only’ still stampeding through his fantasies. Feeling as if he’d brought shame to you, he wasn’t the most talkative the first half of the day. When you asked what was wrong, he may or may not tell you…depending solely on how you approached this situation.

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

[ozzgin]

Hello.

Do you think I can request headcanons for Nakamaro ?

Like in an alternate route, reader and him (he's in his twenties because... magic ?) are married and reader is pregnant.

But the funny thing is, Nakamaro can't bully the yokais because reader will exorcise him each time he tries.

Aaaaah I finished writing and only afterwards it occurred to me you might've wanted a modern day reader for this. 😭 I imagined the events in his own timeline. Oh well. I think it can work both ways. Just replace the ancient pouch with, I don't know, a visa card that he throws at your parents for wife payment.

Yandere! Onmyōji x Reader

Yokai Harem AU as the wife of Abe no Nakamaro, a legendary sorcerer and collector of yokai. Although you're not quite as powerless as to not keep his cruelty under control.

Content: female reader, arranged marriage, mentions of pregnancy

[Main Story] [Character Guide]

Your family had vehemently opposed the marriage. To think their one and only daughter would fall into the hands of such a cruel man. The famous Abe no Nakamaro, descendant of Abe no Seimei himself, has quite a contradicting reputation. He has saved many lives, cured countless illnesses, protected villages from monsters and brought peace to the land. Yet many have also witnessed his ruthless nature: the arrogance he has towards humans, the disdain and utter disgust he harbors towards demons. He is quick to punish, rarely forgives, and never forgets. The yokai he’s captured under a binding contract are kept on a leash, like cattle before slaughter.

It is this man who approached your parents one day, when you were still young, demanding your hand. He claimed you had special powers and a lot of potential under the right guidance. Such spiritual prowess would waste away in a family of plebeians. You don’t remember much of the discussion, only the expressions: the man’s mocking grin as he threw a pouch fattened with coins, the frown of your parents who wanted to refuse, the uneasy, grim eyes of the horned demons brought to intimidate. It was clear they were there against their will. One will find just how difficult it is to go against the wishes of the onmyōji, and you happened to be his most ardent desire. Thus, with a heavy heart, you’d been sent away with the stranger who promised you were to live a life of luxury. One your parents could never afford.

True to his word, you have not struggled since. In Akutagawa’s short masterpiece, Hell Screen, artist Yoshihide is wicked and vicious towards everything and everyone except his beloved daughter. Similarly, the sorcerer seems to have a soft spot for you in particular. He often praises your talent, and patiently caters to your whims without complaint. You once inquired about it yourself, as the idea weighed heavily on your mind: why is it that he does not show the same hostility towards you? He stared at you as if you just grew two more heads. "You're my wife. What else is there to question?"

This favoritism, however, is to the benefit of everyone. Especially to the yokai under his command. You've grown rather fond of the demons in your years spent alongside them, and they've quickly learned that your presence means safety from any punishment. Some need reassurance more than others. To these you've even begun to feel like a motherly figure, shielding them from the wrath of an unforgiving master. At last, an authority even Abe no Nakamaro himself can't disobey: the word of his wife.

And soon enough, as if your marriage wasn't already the ultimate argument, you welcome the return of your husband with the news he's always longed for: you are the soon-to-be mother of his child. His name has just been guaranteed to continue its course through time. To say he is elated is an understatement. You've only seen him smile so genuinely once before in your life, on your wedding day.

"Can you imagine the powers this child will command?" He muses, referring most likely to the fact you've both been blessed with an innate, unmatched talent in onmyōdō. You finish rolling the parchment paper and gently tap his head with the scroll in a scolding manner. "You better not burden the kid with your bizarre expectations!" The same man feared throughout the country is chuckling apologetically at your gesture. "As the Mother says."

[stevie-petey]

we thought love was something (we weren't meant to find)

﹂ season two of "come home"

as you approach a year since will's disappearance, things seem to be back to how they were. you still have jonathan and the boys, hawkins is boring again, and you and steve harrington aren't really friends. you convince yourself that it's fine, but time can't heal all wounds, and you sure as hell have your fair share of them. when will starts having episodes and your brother hides a literal monster from you, junior year becomes a lot more painful than it already was. (and because you can never win, steve gets dragged into it). (more complicated feelings arise). (as usual).

episode one: MADMAX - what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

episode two: trick or treat, freak - you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

episode three: the pollywog - you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.

episode four: will the wise - jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

episode five: dig dug - you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

episode six: the spy - dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

episode seven: the mind flayer - jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

episode eight: the gate - you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

⌑ set between seasons 2 and 3

﹂ episode nine: the fall - surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

⌑ status: FINISHED

⌑ season two title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[lunargrapejuice]

not me in literal tears over this man

sephiroth back story spoilers ahead btw

thinking about how sephiroth was already contemplating leaving shinra before the nibelheim incident. what if it was for the both of you too, so he could take you somewhere you’d be safe & you two could live a normal life. how he’d been thinking about bringing up to you about possibly leaving but it’s you who actually says something first. you asked if you were crazy for even entertaining the idea but that’s when he decides his thoughts of abandoning shinra with you were always right. so you decide together you will leave & you’ll get the chance to live a normal life. a good life. but of course you need time to prepare, as if they would just let him walk away, so he goes on this last mission to nibelheim. but then- then he’s just alone when he learns about his past. when he learns who - what he is, when he’s being consumed by madness & hatred.

they try to tell you what they tell everyone, how he died in action but you can feel him out there somewhere & you know he’d never give up if the roles were reversed, even though in the back of your mind you can’t help but blame yourself. if you haven’t said anything about leaving would he still be here with you? but then you learn about what he did, in utter disbelief he would burn down & kill an entire village so you go there, all the while trying to avoid shinras watchful gaze & it’s in ashes, blanketed in sorrow you can feel crawling up your skin like icy tendrils, telling yourself it can’t be. it can’t because he wouldn’t do this. he wouldn’t. but every step you take deeper into the destroyed town it’s like you can feel him there but it’s not quite him, not in the way you know. it feels.. dark, menacing but also like he’s hurting.

by some miracle you find the wreckage of the once grand manor, read what you can of half charred books & weathered manuscripts, all of them slowly piecing together a reality that feels like a fucking nightmare. one that reminds you of the first time he truly let you in, when he told you about his mother & his dreams, about being different from everyone else but never knowing how exactly & it rips you in two, making you feel like you can hardly breath or move because he was able to learn so much more than this pieced together truth in front of you about jenova, every small detail bo doubt breaking him more & he was without anyone he trusts to help him through it, remind him that he is still him - your sephiorth. the man you love. a hero even if it was forced upon him, not a monster these pages made him out to be. but he was alone. is still alone. & you know you should have more feelings about his following actions & whatever he might be doing now but at this moment all you can do is mourn for him

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ FROM THE DINING TABLE . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ is it possible to fall out of love? ...apparently so. (0.7k)

contains; exes, reader sees gojo w/ his new girlfriend, ur just the sad and lonely ex who can't get over him idk author's note; i am stressed and this is how im coping

it's been three months.

only three months since you and satoru broke things off. since satoru told you he lost feelings and could no longer string you along as you gazed at him with lovesick eyes etched in hearts; which were well deserved considering your relationship lasted a little over three years.

you loved him so much. no. you love him so much. you'll never stop loving him for as long as you can breathe, because who is he if not your soulmate? there's no one else that understands you, listens to you, and notices all of your ticks and little emotions that are blind to the common eye. satoru is the one that you're supposed to end up with; that you're supposed to marry as you walk down the aisle awaiting that bright smile he always flashed in your direction.

if you're supposed to marry satoru...

...why is he smiling at someone else?

"oh, shit." he finally notices your presence and it's somewhat insulting considering the market isn't too crowded. "hey, how've you been?"

his tone is almost condescending. why would he be asking that question? he should know that you're an absolute and complete mess over him. he should be an absolute and complete mess over you, too. you don't care that he claims to have fallen out of love. that's impossible. that's just something that happens in the movies; and if your life is anything like one of those cheesy romcoms— you desperately hope that you're not the character that gets their heart broken for the main lead.

"i'm okay." you lie. you're not okay. your heart is pounding at a rate that's so rapid you think you're about to pass out, thudding inside of your chest in its best attempt to leap from your body and land in satoru's open hands. now that you're noticing them, though, they're not open. they're firmly clasped to whoever this new stranger is. whoever his new girlfriend is. "who's this?"

he waves his hand dismissively. "don't worry about it." to which the girl giggles and leans into his side.

they're mocking you. you can't help but feel that way.

you can't help but feel your heart break into glass fragments that once were a stained glass mural of your love story. the images of him confessing his feelings after the snow melted in spring, whispering his love for you for the first time when summer began, and the promise ring he was so excited about giving you during your last holiday together, all clash to the ground— becoming incoherent memories that only you care to recall. it's clear that satoru is happily cementing new moments with this girl who's likely somewhat similar to you. she seems sweet and kind, and you hope that she escapes being strung along far sooner than you did.

"you look cute together." the smile on your face is clearly phony. he knows you well enough to be able to tell, and you're sure that she's able to understand, too.

"thank you!" she's so nice? why does he always go for nice girls? if you could take a guess, it's because he enjoys watching them fall for him...watching them give up their entire hearts for his love, only to shred them to pieces like receipt paper that he no longer cares to hold onto. what a monster.

...but you still love him.

"you're welcome." your reply is as genuine as you can fake it to be, and it's possible you've fooled her. you haven't fooled satoru, though. your ex is staring at you with knowing intent, seeing the bitterness in your soul that you hide from everyone else. "satoru, can we talk?"

please.

"what is there to talk about?" his laugh practically drowns you. you feel as if there's a weighted anchor attached to your ankle with a rope that's impossible to break apart with your bare hands. it's pulling you deeper and deeper into the depths of abyss, giggling as you struggle for air and water fills your lungs. the fish say hello. they watch as your lungs close in. they wave goodbye when your eyes finally close.

"forget i said anything."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[matrixbearer2024]

I Hate Mondays

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: This interlude was probably WAAAAAY overdue- but here it is! I was thinking of how to continue though eventually decided to let Vox kind of just deal with the whiplash of his chill downtime with you and his chaotic somewhat unhealthy workplace. I didn't want to really include conflict, just him again dealing with things he has come to realize but not entirely accept- it's Vox, when will he actually genuinely accept that he'd fallen fast and fallen hard for someone because they treated him like a decent human being? Either way, it's mostly fluffy stuff for now before I add your interlude idea requests into the story soon :)

A/N: I've also seen people sometimes write Vox with a little bit of an impostor syndrome, so a lot of his doubts and anxieties will kind of be reflected in this interlude. It'll all be okay though I promise! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!

There's a saying that everyone hates Mondays.

Manic mondays, monday blues, monday's monster, etc.

And for Vox, after the weekend he's had with you?

That saying couldn't have been more true.

From a relaxed and chill two days, back into an insanely stressful and borderline chaotic work environment.

And as he stared at the stack of documents in front of him-

He didn't even want to begin.

The overlord would've repeatedly hit his head against the table if it didn't risk cracking his screen.

The last thing he needed was to worry you because of something stupid.

"VOX! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH THIS!"

"VOX! I NEED YOU TO DO THAT!"

"VOX! GIVE ME THIS THING!"

"VOX!"

"VOX!"

"VOX!"

Left, right and center-

His colleagues were definitely not short of any demands.

And it was slowly driving him insane from frustration.

They could be asking quite literally anybody else, but no.

They just had to bother him.

And the overlord was just in no mood to deal with the chaos right now.

With his packed schedule full of broadcasts and meetings-

Vox's patience was really running thin.

It got to the point where simply chose to ignore the other Vees after a while.

Not responding to their calls or texts as he holed himself up in his monitor room.

Was his daily life really this crazy?

It's such a jarring change from how he felt like during that weekend with you-

So much so that he was really having trouble believing it.

Still, he threw himself into work.

As the king of technology in pentagram city often would-

And he completely lost track of time.

So after a while just staring and tabulating some analytics on the many screens in front of him-

The last thing he expected to see was a notification from your chat to pop up.

"Hey, how you feeling? You seemed kinda off on your broadcast earlier."

Vox wasn't thinking of replying to you, he only noticed what he'd done after a reply was sent anyway.

"Color me surprised, I didn't think anyone would notice!"

He really had to stop reacting to you first and just think about it.

Still, his fingers were already flying across the keyboard before he could stop them.

"Vox, it's me. Of course I would notice. Did something happen?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary doll, just getting used to the grind again."

He cringed slightly reading that message over, did he really just send that to you?

You could be laughing at his poor attempt of using new slang for all he knew.

"That is how you use that word right?"

"Yeah it is lol. Can you drop by the hotel later when you're free? I know you're busy so it's okay whenever."

That made his heart skip a beat, something the overlord slightly berated himself for.

Sure, he'd come to the realization that he did in fact love you to some degree.

But it's not without clear hesitation.

He could very well be mistaken anyway.

You were just... friendly like that.

Yeah. Friendly.

"Why'd you ask? Miss me already dollface?"

"Don't be an idiot. I just wanna hang out with you."

Vox found himself needing to read your message over a few times after you sent that.

He still couldn't quite understand why you liked spending so much time with him.

Time was valuable and time was money.

At least in the literal sense when it came to his occupation.

And still you just wanted to spend yours with him.

Him.

No wonder Alastor made a jab at you having a bad taste in companions.

He was... not really the best in hindsight.

Not that he'd ever admit that fact, his pride wouldn't allow it.

But in regards to you?

You definitely deserved better than what you got.

"Besides, you need to take breaks from your work every now and then. Vel's been texting me nonstop that you already look like shit."

The overlord couldn't help but chuckle from the irony of that statement.

Velvette, though not as much as a certain moth, still contributed to his stressful day.

But it was still nowhere near as bad.

Vox dreaded having to go out and deal with the irate pimp again.

Another tantrum, maybe a screaming fest even?

His mood was souring even more just thinking about it.

"Actually, did you eat anything at all today? Or do you just skip your meals you workaholic TV demon?"

"That's pretty rude dollface."

"Am I wrong though? Anyway, answer the question Samsung."

Now how should he answer this?

It took one glance at his internal clock to confirm he'd actually skipped both breakfast and lunch.

Well, he didn't think you'd count just drinking coffee a good breakfast.

Would you really get upset enough to storm Vee tower if he replied honestly?

Actually you would- Vox wouldn't put it against your chaotic nature-

Hm... maybe he could lie to you just this once.

"I'm fine doll, seriously. Don't worry about it."

The overlord tiredly sighed.

He had another broadcast in a few minutes, whether or not he felt up to it.

It didn't help that there was this... heavy feeling in his gut that wasn't there earlier.

Was he feeling guilty...?

For lying to you?

And it wasn't even really a lie, just- an omission of some details.

A hand flew up to cover his screen, kind of like a facepalm.

You really have changed him, and he didn't catch it until too late.

"Vox, I worry about you regardless. When you throw your job into it as well, then all the more I'm concerned that you're not taking good care of yourself. I know what it's like to get lost in responsibilities, just... be more mindful of yourself okay?"

For someone who wasn't supposed to care, wasn't supposed to get close to anyone unless it had advantages-

The overlord couldn't help but feel genuinely touched reading your message.

Sure, you'd sent similar things before and even told him outright at times-

But it always had the same effect.

You cared about him, probably to the extent he unknowingly did for you.

Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself just a little bit happier because of it.

Most of the world he'd built up around himself was fake anyway, smiles and all.

So this little shot of genuine care...

Really struck him.

Though just as that train of thought went and left the station-

Vox just as quickly put a stop to it.

That fuzzy feeling in his chest had bloomed once again and he wanted none of it.

Well, more like he couldn't bring himself to continue entertaining it.

It was probably fine when the both of you were simply oblivious.

But now he felt like he needed to make a conscious effort to stop falling for you more.

Lest he risk wrecking everything just because he'd guessed wrong.

What would you see in a guy like him anyway?

"I will, thanks dollface. Anyway, I have a broadcast in a few minutes so I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."

"It's fine go and do what you need to do, just drop by any time you need to okay? I'll be here."

Your flatscreen companion couldn't help but smile from your words.

Again, the way you treated him was just so... different from everything he was used to.

His tech empire, his company, his power and status-

It didn't matter to you.

Not at all when you were alive, and it clearly even carried over now that you were here.

How you could be so nonchalant about everything, Vox wouldn't ever understand.

Nor would he probably be able to comprehend.

But that wasn't really much of an issue compared to other things he felt towards you.

"I will. Thanks doll."

With that reply, the overlord went and got ready for his final broadcast of the day.

And it went as one would've expected.

Totally sideways off the rails and into a burning trash heap.

Fucking Mondays.

The broadcast itself would seem fine to the viewers, but behind the cameras?

It was practically a shitfest cranked up to eleven.

The cameras were rolling as usual and Vox was playing up his typical telecaster charm-

When Valentino decided to show up and throw a hissy fit then and there.

Sure, the viewers saw none of the chaos or madness-

But you knew something was up with your TV headed companion when his smile looked a little bit too strained on air.

It's not something everyone else would notice, but you would.

You always did.

And you were proven right when you heard some knocking on glass.

Ah.

There he was.

Vox was somehow sitting on one of the many ledges and railings that encompassed the hotel, it just so happens that this one was close to your room.

Didn't his broadcast just air?

You quickly shook off the surprise and confusion to open the window.

"Vox? What are you-"

"It's been a long day, wasn't in the mood to see the others. Just you."

"Then get in here, wanna talk about it?"

When your companion shook his head, that's when you knew his day was probably upside down when it came to anything going right.

Not to mention that for once, he actually dropped by and looked quite as bad as he felt.

His bow tie was undone, his shirt was untucked and messy-

Plus his coat and striped vest were nowhere to be seen.

Probably left at the tower you'd guess.

"Dude, you look like shit."

Vox rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, moving to sit down on the floor while leaning back against the edge of your bed.

You would've told him to just sit on the mattress itself- but he probably wanted to lean on something so you just joined him.

"I've been told, almost nothing went right today."

"Guess that's why they call it a manic Monday huh?"

You both shared an odd look before laughing.

Of course it would be the stupid joke to lighten the mood.

But that was always how you both broke the ice, and if it works- it works.

"Perhaps, but I don't think it was ever this tiring before."

You simply shrugged, leaning your head on his shoulder and staring out in front of you.

Vox subconsciously moved an arm around you when he did.

He was way too tired to really care or stop himself though.

"Maybe it never was, or maybe you just got used to it. Vel did tell me that you never really took a break before you met me."

"Seriously? What else does she spill about me then?"

"Nothing too important, just that you're a whole lot different from how you were two years ago."

When your companion let out a thoughtful hum, that's when you knew he agreed.

Funnily enough, Vox wouldn't say much of anything when he was actually giving something a lot of thought.

So the fact he wasn't really talking as much as usual also spoke volumes to you about his state of mind.

Because as annoying as his comments and charming jokes could be sometimes-

It was fundamentally what made Vox well- Vox.

Which made him just shooting short replies and sentences a little bit more concerning.

"Hey, can I give you a hug?"

"What? Why would you need to ask that? You've already hugged me before."

"I know, but this time it genuinely looks like you really need a hug. This is different from the ones when we just joke around."

You almost wanted to smack your overlord companion when he just gave you a confused look.

Granted, this was hell so what the both of you shared was no short of peculiar.

But the point still stands-

Had no one ever given this idiot an actual hug before?

"Look, just tell me if something feels wrong okay?"

Vox didn't really know how to respond to any of your words.

What made your hugs from before so different from now?

Though when he'd suddenly found you straddling his lap, the overlord bit back a surprised noise.

What the fuck were you doing?!

He found himself tensing a little when you laid your head on his chest, your arms encircling behind him as well.

Oh what the hell was this-

"Just relax you weirdo, I don't bite."

You calmly laid there and listened to his pulse, it was a little faster than you'd hoped for but didn't mind.

The gentle hum of his circuits reminded you of a working desktop computer, which you found a little silly considering he was supposed to have a TV for a head.

Again with the bionic biology- you were getting more than curious-

Eventually though, Vox did calm down enough to actually live in the moment.

The smell of your shampoo, how warm and soft you were-

His arms moved of their own accord and reciprocated your hug.

His posture slackened and the overlord found himself properly relaxing with you.

It was just so... calm right now.

And he was so so tired.

What he would give to just be like this with you every day.

The next time you looked up to check on Vox, you saw his screen dimmed and a screensaver of his company logo just bouncing around the edges of his face.

Ah, so that's where he got it from.

You wondered what it was ever since he slapped it onto your laptop-

You couldn't help but smile when the reality finally hit that the tech overlord had fallen asleep during your cuddle session.

Sure, he was probably really tired-

But he trusted you enough to just let go and relax.

That made your heart swell with joy.

He didn't need to say anything about his day for you to know he needed comfort.

After all, he could tell you about it when he was ready to.

You did wonder why emotional comfort was such an odd concept to Vox-

But it was something you were more than willing to teach him.

Besides, you both had eternity down here in hell.

So you had all the time to spend giving your flatscreen companion the care he deserved.

Your pleasant thought bubble popped when you heard a weird noise from the overlord though.

When it happened again, you didn't take more than a second to connect the dots.

Especially given how late it was into the evening.

Did this idiot even eat anything today?!

No wonder he dodged your question earlier!

You'd let him sleep a little longer but you would wake him for dinner.

Seems like you were totally right to worry about this habits.

Stupid workaholic TV.

He was lucky you liked him.

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

[writingficsanddaydreams]

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him? 

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him. 

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

[bloody-peach]

Anything For a Friend Part 1: A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed (Hazbin Hotel: Alastor x F!Reader smut fic)

(gif made by me)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: Closer x Beautiful is Boring, Animal, Blood (please listen to these while reading this, you will not regret it)

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, cock rubbing, tentacles, mating season, monster sex, monster fucking, rough sex, cursing, creampie, wall sex, somewhat of a slow burn at first [let me know if i miss anything]

A/N: Okay, so before I continue, I feel the need to say something. I know Alastor is aroace. I know it, you know it, we all know it. In the show's canon, I completely respect that. I have a friend that's aroace, and I have a deep respect for them and the community. However, this story is outside of canon, where anything goes. Plus, in this, Alastor still doesn't normally feel sexual attraction towards anyone, except when he's in his rut. But he is not aromantic in this. You can say he's demi-romantic; there needs to be a very deep connection between him and the target of the affection in order for romance to occur, hence why it happens here due to him and Y/N being so close. So yeah, no disrespect is intended here. I just want to give the people what they want. Besides, I'm clearly not the only one who is guilty of putting Al in sexual situations. I'm just aware of the implications this could bring and tried to give it some respect to the character. So if you're offended by even the idea of Alastor being romantic or him having sex at all, feel free to skip this. I won't blame you one bit. Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk @moths-and-mantids

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It was the beginning of October. Something was going on at the hotel. Alastor was staying away from everyone, holing himself in his room. You knew this wasn’t like him. Today, when you first confronted him about his odd behavior, he pushed you away and ran to his room. He had a panicked look in his eyes, which was an expression you never saw from him before. That’s how you knew something was wrong. You asked around the hotel to find out what happened, but they just told you that they didn’t know and to just let him be. But you refused, you knew you had to help him somehow, regardless of what everyone else said. That night, you walked up to his door and knocked on it.

Alastor softly groaned, turning his head slightly to glare at the door. As he walked to the door and prepared his speech in his mind, he heard your voice. “Alastor...? It’s me, Y/N. Are you okay?” He opened the door and was surprised to see you standing there, a worried expression marring your normally cheerful features. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh as he tried to control himself. “Y/N...” He muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Despite his efforts to push you away to keep you safe, here you were, like a loyal little puppy. He avoided eye contact and said, “I said I don’t want any company. Please, just go.”

You noticed how disheveled he looked, his suit in disarray and partially open, exposing the scar on his chest from his fight with Adam. His breathing was heavy, like he had done something strenuous inside his room. You focused on the task at hand, saying, “You’ve been avoiding everyone all day and been so distant towards me. You’ve never acted like that before. Did something happen?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he stared at you, his heart beating faster as he looked at you. He knew that he should maintain distance, but seeing you so concerned about him made it even harder to resist the primal urges inside him. With a deep breath, he tried to gather his thoughts and come up with an explanation that wouldn’t reveal what was really going on. “It’s nothing important,” he muttered, attempting to sound dismissive. But the worry in your eyes made him rethink his response. “Just a minor issue, really. Now please, go back to your room.” He took a step forward, trying to usher you away from his room. His tentacles were starting to emerge from his back, twitching slightly, antsy to just grab you and pull you in.

You look into his eyes and knew he was lying. “I know you’re lying, Alastor. Your eyes give away so much. Right now, they’re saying, ‘Help me’.” His gaze flickered briefly before returning to its normal coldness, masking the conflict within him. “No, really, I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry about me.” However, despite his words, he couldn’t shake off the desire burning brightly inside him. With a pleading glance and then a defeated sigh, he reluctantly stepped aside, allowing you entrance into his room. “Come in. Please, sit down.” He pointed towards the antique couch in the corner, trying to distract himself with tidying up some papers strewn across his desk as you sat down. You noticed that his room was a total mess, things flung all over the floor, scratches on the walls and furniture. Even the couch you were sitting in had some claw marks embedded on it. As you looked around, he busied himself with picking up random items and placing them back neatly, hoping the movement would help calm his racing thoughts. But you noticed something. “Alastor...? You’re not okay. You’re shaking.”

Alastor froze mid-movement, his hands trembling slightly as he held onto a stack of papers. “Fuck...” He cursed under his breath, his eyes soon meeting yours. “I..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this. I promise that everything is under control.” He quickly set down the papers and attempted to regain his posture, fixing his suit and tying his bow tie nervously. “Perhaps we can chat in the morning when things have settled down?” He suggested, offering his signature smile. Deep down, he knew he needed help, but admitting weakness wasn’t easy for someone like him. For now, he could only hope that time would ease his torment. You got up and walked over to him, gently taking his hand and looking at him. You spoke in a concerned yet soothing voice, “Please...tell me what’s going on. I want to help you, Alastor. I don’t care what it is, I’ll help you no matter what.” Alastor hesitated for a moment, his mind battling between acceptance and denial. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and gently gripped your hand, feeling a wave of warmth emanating from your touch. Despite his fear right now, Alastor found solace in your presence, knowing that you were willing to stand by him no matter what. Your unwavering support was both comforting and overwhelming; it reminded him how much he truly cared for you.

You and him were like two peas in a pod, the closest of friends. You two were so close, you were the only one permitted to touch him without any consequences. Even Rosie was surprised when she saw you two hug at one point. It was clear you both cared for each other deeply, but Alastor, being himself, was always one to deny it when others brought it up. But deep down, Alastor admired your compassion and putting others before yourself. He didn’t know why, it was something about you that drew him to you. If there was one person he could trust with his life, it was you.

“It...It’s my rut season again,” he confessed softly, averting his gaze from yours. “I’m usually able to handle this just fine, but...lately, I’ve been struggling to control myself, especially around you.” He gripped your hand tighter, his voice barely audible. “If I lose control, I know I’ll end up hurting you or worse - change into something...most unpleasant.” You smiled and cupped his cheek, turning his head to face you. “Is that what this was all about? Alastor, you had me worried sick.” Alastor looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and relief as he met your gentle gaze. Your reassuring words eased some of his anxiety, but the fear still lingered in the back of his mind. “Thank you for understanding. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said as he leaned into your touch. His heart pounded against his chest, the scent of your perfume wafting through the air. Though he appeared calmer, the tension in his body remained, a testament to the struggle he faced internally. You concern brought him comfort, but it also heightened his awareness of his inner turmoil.

In that moment, you made a decision. You looked him straight in the eye and said, “Alastor...if it really is that troublesome for you...I’ll help you through it.”

Alastor’s eyes shot wide and a small blush appeared on his cheeks, a look very unlike Alastor. He shook his head vigorously, pulling away slightly. “No, no, it’s fine. Really, I appreciate your offer, but--.” That’s when you hugged him before he could finish his sentence. Surprised yet pleased by your bold move, Alastor hesitated for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around you, returning the hug. The warmth of your body against his calmed him somewhat, and he leaned his head against yours, closing his eyes. You spoke gently, “Alastor...I care about you. Deeper than just friends. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you through anything. Please...let me help you here.”

Normally, he would be repulsed at the idea of having sex. He never felt any sexual attraction to anyone, not even when he was a human. But even asexuals have their bodily urges, whether they want to or not. And since he became a demon, these urges became stronger, much stronger. He had thought about coming to you for this, but he was afraid of chasing you away. He cared for you as deeply as you did for him, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Finding a friend like you in Hell is like finding a diamond in a vast desert, and he certainly wasn’t going to go and throw that away. But seeing you being so supportive and seeing your want to help him, he started to second guess his choices. Maybe it was okay to let you help him. It was just a friend wanting to help another one out with something they were dealing with, and they were pretty close already. Plus, this could help him deal with the month much easier if there was someone to help him release the constant urges, and it was a way for them to make their bond stronger than anything.

“Alright, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice breaking slightly. “If that’s what you truly want, then I’ll accept your help.” In that instant, he felt a sudden surge of strength coursing through him, as if some invisible weight had lifted off from his shoulders. “Thank you...thank you,” he repeated, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. You smiled and wiped a tear away from his eye before you leaned in and kissed him softly and tenderly. Alastor’s lips parted involuntarily at your touch, his tongue tentatively seeking entry into your mouth. The taste of your lips against his own sent waves of pleasure coursing through his veins, making it difficult for him to think straight. However, he forced himself to pull away after a brief moment. “I...I can’t...I..I...We’re in public...” You were confused for a moment until you realized that the door was left wide open, anyone could walk by and see the current scene. You walked over and closed the door, locking it. You turned back to Alastor and said, “Now we’re in private.” Alastor blinked for a moment and then he let a low growl escape him, his eyes gleaming dangerously as he walked towards you. “Private or not..We need to focus on the conversation first.” Despite his words, he couldn’t ignore the animalistic urge gnawing at him, demanding release. You were a bit confused. “What conversation is there to have? Boundaries?” Alastor chuckled softly, tilting his head. “I suppose there is that, isn’t there?” Fed up by his attempts at avoiding the inevitable, you decided to lay it on him. You looked him in the eye and said, “I’ll just give it to you straight, since it’s easier that way. I’m open for making this friendship deeper. I’m willing to give myself to you if it’ll help you though this rut. I’m not worried about you hurting me, I can handle a lot more than you think. All I want to do is to help you, and there’s only one way to do it. I don’t know how you feel about it, but that’s how I feel.”

Alastor stared at you, his eyes widened and his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. This revelation was more than what he expected, but despite his confusion and apprehension, Alastor couldn’t deny the swelling desire within him. Slowly, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet firm. “Y/N...” He breathed out your name, his voice laced with emotion. “You’re offering yourself...to help me..? Are you sure about this?” His eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation. The thought of having you so close was almost too much to bear, but he knew he had to be careful not to push you beyond your limits. You nodded, with zero hesitation. “I am. I’m more sure of this than anything,” you said as you cupped his cheek.

Alastor’s breath hitched at your determination, his eyes never leaving yours. Your touch sent electric shocks throughout his body, making it impossible to resist the urge any longer. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue delving deeply into your mouth. You kissed him back deeply, wrapping your arms around him, softly moaning in his mouth. His tentacles stirred restlessly, eager for more than just physical contact. But he focused on the present, savoring the taste of your lips and the feel of your body pressed against his own. In this moment, all other worries seemed trivial compared to the connection you both shared. Alastor groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips firmly as he pinned you to the wall. The sensation of your body against his, coupled with the sound of your moans, drove him wild. Breaking the kiss, he said softly yet seductively, “God, you taste divine...” His voice was raged, his eyes half-closed in lust. “Let’s...let’s get you undressed, shall we?”

With that, he began unbuttoning your shirt, his movements hurried yet precise, his mind fixated solely on satisfying his primal desires. He pulled open your shirt and the tentacles remove it along with your bra. You moaned softly as you felt the tentacles brush along your skin. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath catching in his throat. With deft precision, two of his tentacles wrapped around each of your breasts, gently pinching and stroking your nipples simultaneously. Hearing your moans made his smile widen and his eyes close half-way. “How beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The rest of this tentacles danced around you, exploring every inch of exposed skin, their movements slow and deliberate. Despite his best efforts, as he watched the tentacles remove the rest of your clothes, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was more than just a conquest - it felt like something sacred, something meaningful. Maybe it was.

You moaned as the tentacles wrap around you, they felt so warm against your skin. Alastor’s eyes roamed greedily over your naked form, drinking in every curve and contour of your body. His cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric, begging for release. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Just perfect.” Without further ado, he took his jacket and shirt off and then pushed his pants down, freeing his massive member from its confines. It stood erect and ready, dripping with pre-cum, as he went up to you. He leaned so his lips were to your ear and purred, “Tell me, my lovely Y/N. Do you want this? Do you want me to claim you fully?” His tentacles continued to explore your body, teasingly brushing against your sensitive spots, driving you wild. You looked at him, your eyes and voice full of desire, “Yeah..I..I do..” You then reached out and stroked his cock while licking his neck. Alastor hissed at your touch, his entire body tensing in response. You stroked him gently, your hand warm and soft, sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. He looked at you, his eyes glowing red. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” He grasped your waist, pulling you closer, aligning his erection to your pussy. “Are you ready for this?” He asked, his voice heavy with desire. “This is going to be rough, my dear. I can’t promise to hold back completely.” He paused, waiting for your answer, knowing full well that despite your willingness, you deserved to make an informed decision. You cupped his cheek again and smiled as you nodded. You spoke in a voice full of need and desperation, “Please...put it in...” You didn’t have to tell him twice.

His hips bucked forward, pushing his length inside you with one swift motion, causing him to groan in pleasure. The sound of your moan was muffled against his neck as he buried himself to the hilt, his member stretching you wide. His tentacles wrapped around you tightly, supporting your weight as he started moving rhythmically, thrusting in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning at each thrust. Each powerful thrust send waves of pleasure coursing through the both of you, growing your arousals. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he lost control of himself. “Oh sweet Satan, you’re tight!” He growled, his voice hoarse with lust. “You feel amazing, so fucking good...” His pace quickened, becoming faster and harder, matching the intensity of your mutual desire. You couldn’t help but let out your moans, “Ohh fuck...so good..!” Seeing your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy and hearing your words spurred him on. His thrusts grew frantic, his hips slamming against yours relentlessly. “That’s it, take it,” he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Take everything I have.” The room echoed with the sounds of your passion, filled with gasps and moans. His tentacles brushed against your skin delicately, adding another layer of stimulation to the already intense experience.

As he kept thrusting, you saw him start to change. He let out a animalistic growl as his transformation accelerated, his body shifting under the influence of his primal urges. His antlers grew much larger, their points almost scraping the ceiling, while his muscles bulged with power. His eyes changed, the sclera turning black and his irises glowing red, drool dripping from his mouth that showed his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Y/N...” His voice was deep and guttural now, his full demon form now on display. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Mine to possess and devour?” Each thrust became more violent, his movements brutal yet tender, driven by an insatiable hunger only you could satiate. His tentacles pulsed erratically, eager to join in the frenzy, but bode their time to let Alastor be the star of the show. You moaned even louder, losing your mind over the pleasure. “Ahh..A..Alastor...! Y..Yes..! I’m yours..! I..I belong to you...!” Alastor’s eyes glowed crimson, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Yes!” He roared, his voice echoing through the room. “You’re mine, Y/N! My sweet, sweet Y/N!” With a final thrust, he came inside you, his seed spilling out in hot waves, causing you to cum so hard, your mind was gone. His final few thrusts caused a second orgasm to rock your body. His body shook violently and once he left his high, he slowly transformed back to his normal form.

He grabbed you and collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, panting heavily. He pulled you close, gently grabbing your chin, and whispering, “You’re mine, forever and always.” His tentacles finally joined the fray, caressing your skin gently, soothing the ache left behind by your passion. You held him, your hands gently rubbing his back. Once you looked at him, you saw that he was grinning mischievously. You were wondering why until you felt the tentacles grab you, wrapping around you. “You know I couldn’t hold them back forever.” Each tentacle danced across your skin, exploring every inch of your body, sending shivers down your spine. They slid into you and into your ass, mimicking his previous thrusts, stretching you wide and filling you up, going deeper than he ever could. You felt one tentacle slip over to your lips and when you let out a moan, it slipped into your mouth, going deep down your throat. You couldn’t help but suck on the appendage invading your mouth and filling your stomach with its essence. Despite the fullness, you couldn’t help but moan at the sensations, your body still craving more. “You’re such a precious little thing, darling,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “So sweet, so perfect.” His tentacles continued their rhythmic dance, keeping you on the edge of pleasure. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes gleamed with desire, promising many more nights like this to come.

“You thought it was just one time, sweetheart? Come on now, you know better than that. Oh, this is just the beginning, my dear. We’re in for one wild night...”

~~~♡♡♡~~~

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you know i've been thinking about the consequences of malleus's actions in book 7 and i realized how much he's fucked everyone over including his grandma. bc like other than the fact that he ob'd (which literally has NEGATIVE connotations one of which being is idk ""UNSTABLE"" which isnt necessarily a good look for a crown prince is all im saying) he's literally causing terrorism (??? can you call it that idk how else to call it) which is going to setback his grandma's efforts (and lilia's and baul's, and every supporter of his and his family) in keeping peace in their kingdom and the favor of the humans towards the fae. Like. i feel so bad for grandmother draconia rn i can only imagine the stress and pressure she's under.

Then theres also aside from PHYSCIALLY compromising everyone's healths in sage island (BECAUSE THE MAJORITY ARE HUMANS OR AT LEAST THEY DONT LIVE AS LONG AS THE FAE). He's also fucked everyone mentally twice over!!!! By booting them straight into a world where none of their problems exist. Now that wouldnt sound bad if it weren't for the fact that dreams have to end, and life isnt kind. It rarely ever is, and i can only imagine how distraught i would be if i were to say, hypothetically lost someone a year before and the wound is so fresh and raw and, in my dreams, they never died and everything is okay, then i wake up and realize that it was just that. A dream, they are still gone and i wish i never woke up which would be a LITERAL DEATH SENTENCE. This isnt just an event that takes place in NRC either BUT THE WHOLE ISLAND and that domain is GROWING, GROWING. I can't imagine just how many would be so emotionally ruined after this. Like.....

If Malleus does not suffer the consequences of his actions istg i will be so pissed, at least REMOVE HIM FROM THE PREMISE OR SOMETHING GODDDDDDD this cannot be remedied with a slap on the hand!!!!!

(Note: Sorry for the long rant. I felt the need to get this out of my chest bc i dont mind malleus's archetype actually nor do i actually hate him, bc i enjoy him interacting w other characters a lot (my fave ever vigenette is him giving deuce the equivalent of minecraft diamon for fixing a retrobit gaming toy) BUT GOD DOES HE MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL)

Yeah, I do feel like the scale of Malleus's actions cannot be understated. I know it's kind of a fandom joke that the OB boys are left off with a slap on the wrist + maybe some social ramifications at school, but this is the ONE time in the main story where things are getting super big and the effects could be cripplingly long-lasting.

I don't know if TWST will seriously address the consequences after book 7, but I sure hope they do!! There is a lot of interesting ground to cover (many points which this anon has already brought up) in a follow-up main story arc or the next book.

For example:

Malleus obviously has to regain the trust of his peers and staff. He didn’t really have it before but now has to work twice as hard to make connections since he just took a drastic action that confirmed the rumors some were already spreading about how he’s a monster.

He’s the sole heir to the throne and has just betrayed the trust of the people of Briar Valley. How are they feeling about him now? Do they still trust him to lead them?

How does this impact their relations with other countries (since Malleus himself stresses how he represents Briar Valley)? This is a problem visible on a global scale, and surely this would damage their rep with other nations, particularly the predominantly human ones. It’s setting back what is hundreds of years of trying to fix the broken trust between their races.

Malleus’s UM potentially puts his victims in physical harm; in book 7, Ortho suggests that since everyone is sleeping, their bodies are not getting the food or water they need. As a result, they may physically waste away and then perish. (We have seen that there are sleep blessings that keep people sleeping for hundreds of years without detriment to the blessed though, such as the one cast on Silver—so we cannot be entirely sure if Ortho’s theory is correct or not.)

There is the possibility that Malleus’s dreams may traumatize or retraumatize his victims, particularly those with deep rooted troubles. An example of this is Idia, who had suffered the loss of his brother when he was like… 8 years old??? But then in his dream, Idia is living a happy false reality that Ortho never died. When he finally comes to this realization, he has to relive the trauma of the discovery all over again and breaks down sobbing. We also see in the most recent book 7 update that Vil had to face the evilest aspects of himself and a dark reality; Rook became very emotional upon waking himself. Admittedly, Idia and co. coped with it well enough—this is proof of their character development and the strength of the new friendships they’ve formed. However, all the people on Sage’s Island/Twisted Wonderland may not react so positively or be so accepting of their cruel realities.

Again, just the overall moral dilemma of one person robbing all of Sage’s Island (and soon all of Twisted Wonderland) of their autonomy.

Potential extra work for STYX and whichever countries Malleus’s magic manages to spread to (repairing any physical damage caused by the thorns + mental damage done to those that fell asleep). That’s money, time, and resources that aren’t going toward other everyday endeavors.

How will Malleus himself mentally and emotionally cope with what he has done? Is he going to show remorse and shame? How does he plan on rectifying his actions, if at all?

Will this change how his dorm members + family view him? For example, will Sebek become disillusioned with his liege/realize Malleus is not as perfect as he seems? Will Maleficia blame herself for not being there for Malleus? Will Lilia feel guilty for not teaching Malleus right from wrong? Etc, etc, etc.

I’d honestly love to read all of these! 🤔 It would add a lot to the lore and history of Twisted Wonderland, as well as serve as motivators for Malleus to change, “be better”, and actually earn the respect he’s so used to being handed by default. This would be huge for him, especially seeing as he has not really faced significant backlash or consequences for any other missteps he was responsible for or involved in. (I know I bring this one up a lot, but Endless Halloween Night is one such major example.)