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#lady murderess
lady-murderess · 6 months
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ah, short people problems... he's just like me fr
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guardingthegalaxy · 1 year
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HAVE SOME MANTIS TO BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY
POM KLEMENTIEFF AS MANTIS
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outoftouchsoldier · 4 months
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Has Homelander finished throwing a tantrum yet? Because what the fuck was that all about...
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Neon green orbs that pierced the darkness, fixated on Maeve as she finished her scene retreating to the sidelines, and it was Homelander's turn to shoot the next scene. The leader of the seven taking her place. James had joined the blonde on the side lines during Maeve's scene.
A wry smile played upon his lips as he addressed her with a hint of mockery, "Good evening, your majesty." The playful salutation was a nod to her moniker as "Queen" Maeve.
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During filming her scene, Maeve was fully aware she was being watched... She could feel it. But she was not the sort of person to let it be known that such a thing bothered her, so she kept on with the scene like she normally would have.
Once "Cut!" was yelled and she was directed off set, Maeve's intentions were to go straight to her trailer and rest awhile. She wasn't needed for the next few scenes, it was the star of the movie's turn after all so she had plenty of time to do whatever the fuck she wanted.
As she walked, she heard James and stopped in her tracks for a moment, rolling her eyes at the mockery, knowing full well he was joking. So deciding to head over to join him, she smiled, keeping that pleasant wall up because of where she was.
"Well, hello there, stalker."
Maggie didn't care, she felt she'd casually let it be known that she knew she was being watched by him during her scene.
"What can I help you with?"
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"Look, I'm pretty sure we're all used to the weird shit Waller dumps on us by now. So, he's a weasel... Get over it and move on. We got shit to do."
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ty-galpin · 1 year
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Just your average... "normie" from Jericho.
Look, I'm just here for something to do. So, don't be shy, send me an "ask", or whatever.
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Hello hello, it's @thee-antler-queen
I got a bit bored and writing my fics just weren't doing it, so this is the next best thing as I have so much muse for Tyler.
This is just for fun, so don't take it too seriously. I want to put that out there for those who find this blog first instead of my main one that yes, I do support wyler, so there will be a lot of wyler stuff on here and hate will not be tolerated.
But yeah, send him an ask.
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Hope you feel better soon! ❤️
Awww thank you!!
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shadowworldwanderers · 6 months
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Lady Liandrin MacBeth
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Name: Lady Liandrin MacBeth Nickname: The Bloody Bride, Lia, Drina Love Interest: Juliet MacIntosh Appearance: Pale skin, brown hair, blue eyes. Liandrin is a ghost woman now, her green dress still stained with the blood of the man she killed to protect herself. Height: 5'6 History: Liandrin's homelife was never fair or gentle. She was married off to a Lord, expected at the age of only 18 to settle into being a wife and a bride. She had no interest in men and of course, as was legal back when she was born, she was expected to do her duty... The night her husband tried his luck was the night he died, sending his now 28 year old wife into a spiral of madness. She died by her own hand, choosing to leap from her castle battlements to her death... Now, as she watches over Juliet, she knows she must protect the sweet innocent within her castle walls.
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stories-and-chaos · 3 months
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Shrike pt 1
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[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable since writing from my own experience is easiest, so I’m not sure if this counts as QPR. Written mostly in spite over all the Alastor smut. And overly innocent reader inserts. I don’t mind some smut but c’mon people.]
[Part 1/2 Word count 5506/12026]
[cw: blood, violence, mild gore, attempted sexual assault, fluff]
Behind every great man is a great woman? Well, behind every sophisticated murderer is an equally charming murderess. Maybe not as accurate a statement but that’s how you and your partner were. You met Alastor during prohibition. You weren’t the headline performer at the speakeasy he liked to frequent. You were attractive but other girls there were more stunning.
What caught his attention was the passion in your voice. You were deep and sultry as New Orlean’s summer nights. Your notes slipped into his core as inevitable as the Big Easy’s flow. Combined with your poise and aura of untouchability, he felt drawn to you. The lean radio host had never felt a pull like this to anyone.
But he noticed other men drawn to you. But they had no appreciation for you, just your flesh and the pleasure they might take from you. So he took to following you home. At a discreet distance; he hadn’t yet introduced himself. At least a dozen times he intercepted ruffians that moved to harm you. They weren’t nearly as cautious and thorough as him.
One night Alastor had just prevented another uncouth man from approaching you and was wiping off his hands when he heard your voice. Not how he normally did, trained and melodic. No this was harsh, panicked. Fuck! Another one?! There really was no end to the lowlifes.
You had screeched at your assailant, “Get your hands OFF ME!” You were shrill enough to make him wince, but only for a second. He was stronger and just gave you a dark grin with more teeth missing than not. “Let’s have some fun babycakes.” He started dragging you to an alley.
You managed to stomp on his foot with your heel. “Augh, you bitch!” He shoved you up against the brick wall. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.
“I believe the lady has made her opinion clear,” came another voice in the foggy night. “Let her go.” The voice was vaguely familiar, something you heard regularly…
It distracted your assailant long enough that you could reach for your hat. It was a tad out of style but had it’s advantages. Namely, needing a nearly foot long hat pin to keep it in place. You pulled the pin out while he looked out at the other man.
“Fuck off before I kill yo-“ his words were cut off by the sharpened steel pin suddenly piercing his eye. You jammed it into his eye socket with all your strength. Maybe you could have hit what little brains he had but the other man ran up to slit the bastard’s throat.
The man gurgled desperately before falling to the ground. He twitched, blood flowing from his neck and eye. You leaned back against the wall, chest heaving.
The tall lean man seemed oddly calm. He cleaned his knife before pulling your hat pin out of the corpse’s head. Blood fountained out from the eye socket as he cleaned the gore off your pin. He turned, presenting you the slim steel by the decorative knob.
“Are you all right cher?” You took the pin back but didn’t replace it. You didn’t want any leftover gore in your hair.
“Alors pas! Give me a moment cher.” You took a few deep breaths and looked up to see a (thankfully dry) red tinged hand waiting for you. You placed your shaking one into it. The owner assisted you to your feet, guiding you away from the ever growing pool of blood.
“Quite a fright you’ve had my dear!” His crisp voice, with its transatlantic accent echoed as he escorted you away.
You shuddered slightly, realizing how bad things could have gotten. “At least it was just a fright. Thanks to you mister…?” You trailed off, still trying to place his voice.
“Alastor.”
Your eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Ah! You’re the radio host!”
“I’m flattered you remember me! I’m afraid I have you at a disadvantage. You are Y/N, correct?” Dazed, you nodded. “I’ve been enthralled by your performances for months now, I had to learn more about you cher.”
“Why thank you, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying them.” Suddenly you felt dizzy and stumbled along the path. Alastor swiftly caught you.
“I believe you’re a tad unsteady after being handled so roughly. May I?” Confused, you nodded and he immediately swept you into a bridal carry. “If you’ll permit me, I’d like to escort you home.” He paused and added, “I will need directions of course.”
The thought of a man you just met bringing you home made you flush all over. No matter how gallant he was, the radio host was a stranger. But you didn’t think your legs could support you long enough. “If…if you would please.” You glanced back at the alley. “What do we do about…”
“Hmmm,” Alastor hummed as he strolled away. He had no difficulty carrying you. “I suppose a dead man is an inconvenience but I believe getting you somewhere safe takes priority. Certainly over a lowlife’s corpse.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. You directed him to your apartment, amazed that he was able to carry you that long and with ease. Once there, you allowed him inside. Once inside with a lamp lit, you realized what a mess both were. Your coat was splattered with blood and grime. Your dress was stained wherever the coat hadn’t covered it and your hat was long gone. The hat pin in your hand was mostly clean, but you spotted some blood and gore by the finial. Your shoes weren’t worth mentioning.
Seeing the result of your ordeal made the bile rise in your throat. You barely made it to the sink before vomiting. Thankfully you hadn’t eaten before leaving work so it was just bile. You faintly heard clinking and water being poured. Alastor appeared with a glass of water for you. “Ma cher, you look like you need a wash up. If you like, I can stay in the main room or I can make my way home. I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe.”
You found yourself asking him to stay as you cleaned up. Maybe you were being naive but he did just save you and you felt he didn’t have anything untoward in mind. When you asked about him, he merely chuckled and told you not to worry.
After you were cleaned and dressed in a nightgown and housecoat (and had added a torrent of tears to the bathwater) you emerged to find Alastor reading the newspaper in a chair. He’d made jambalaya for you both. “My mother’s recipe! So good it nearly killed her!” he quipped. Once you’d eaten you couldn’t keep your exhaustion at bay.
“You’re welcome to spend the night Alastor. I’d hate to send you home in the middle of the night.” The only problem was there was only one bed, yours.
“That is much appreciated Y/N. I can make myself comfortable in the front room for one night. I’ll leave you to rest while I clean up myself.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles and murmured “Bonne nuit, cher.”
Alastor left your sleeping form and made use of your washroom. He cleaned up methodically; it wasn’t the first time he’d had to wash up after a kill. His jacket was ruined, but at least the rest of his clothes were in decent enough shape. At least he wouldn’t scandalize anyone on the way home tomorrow.
Still, he was surprised that you had fought back as much as you had. Evidently that passion from your songs emerged elsewhere too. And the way you dispatched your attacker… he shivered at the beauty of it. The unexpected metal gleam in your hand, the furiously graceful arc as you swung and your perfect aim into the lowlife’s eye.
Alastor wasn’t much interested in pleasures of the flesh, he never had been and wasn’t still. He wanted to see more of you like that. Not scared and in need of rescue, but the hunter he recognized in your eyes.
“It seemed the songbird I’ve admired has talons.”
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The next morning you insisted on making breakfast; biscuits and gravy. Alastor seemed to enjoy it but he didn’t leave after eating. You thought he would need to get home before heading to the radio station. When you asked he said he was staying “just in case.”
Just before lunch there was a knock at your door. Alastor was closer so he answered it, almost like he was expecting it. Two policemen stood on the other side. “What can we help you with officers?” Alastor asked jovially.
“Is this the home of a Miss Y/N?” At your affirmative nod, the stockier of the two continued, “We’d like you to come down to the station Miss. We have some questions to ask you.”
“Ah, this must pertain to the dreadful ordeal my dear Y/N went through last night,” Alastor interjected. “Ma cher, why don’t you grab your things and I’ll accompany you.”
“And who might you be?” The lanky officer asked.
“Alastor, my good man. You may have tuned into my radio show!” He smiled thinly as the short one had a flicker of recognition. “I rendered some assistance to Y/N, so it’s probably best if I’m there as well. It would save you gentlemen a trip to my home to escort me in for questions, ha ha!”
By then you had your shoes and bag ready. “Dear you look lovely. Do you have your pin from last night, I’m sure these gentlemen will want to examine it.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent point Alastor.” You placed it in your bag, making sure the cover was on the tip.
Once at the station, you found out the trail from your attacker’s body to your apartment was fairly obvious. Some blood on the bottom of Alastor’s shoes led the way. As for what happened:
“The man accosted me on my way home. I tried to fight back, but he was ever so much stronger. It seems I was loud enough to grab Alastor’s attention. I’m so grateful he stepped in! The beast was distracted and I was able to get ahold of my hat pin. My mother always said not to leave without one and she was right! I meant to just scratch him but I’ve never had to do such a thing before; I hit his eye instead. Before I could do anything else Alastor was between us and then the ruffian was dead.”
“Indeed! I heard Y/N order the lout to release her and I ran up to assist. I had just been dealing with another lowlife who had also been following her. To think there are so many ne’er-do-wells on our streets! In any case, I dispatched the man and assisted Y/N home.” You hadn’t realized there had been another man following you. You shivered at the thought.
“And why were you in the area Mr. Alastor? Records show that neither your home or place of employment are in that area.”
Alastor’s eye twitched but his smile never faltered. “I’d had a lovely evening at the jazz club and felt a late night stroll was in order. I wasn’t even paying attention to where my feet were taking me! Perhaps it was providence guiding my way so I might save the lady’s virtue.”
“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”
“I could barely manage to walk, I was in such a state. Alastor had to carry me home; I was in no condition to report anything, officers.”
“The lady had been assaulted on her way home and forced to defend herself. I felt it would be unworthy of a gentleman to leave her alone in her time of need.”
After a barrage of questions and a thorough examination of your hatpin, Alastor’s knife and the minor injuries you had suffered while being manhandled, the officers let you both go. They would provide all the evidence to the district attorney. But it seemed unlikely that either of you would be charged. You had been defending yourself and Alastor had defended you.
The charming radio host escorted you back home. “Won’t you be late for work at this point?” His broadcast covered a good portion of the afternoon and early evening.
“Hmm, perhaps.” He patted your hand nestled into the crook of his arm. “I still feel your wellbeing is more important however, my dear.” You felt a blush warming your cheeks. “On that subject, I believe you’re due to perform again tonight?” You nodded, he really did enjoy your performances if he knew your schedule. “I believe I will go mad with worry cher, might I escort you there and back home?”
This man was insinuating himself into your life so easily. Perhaps killing a man together had that effect. “Please do Alastor. I don’t believe I will be able to go on my own after yesterday.” You had reached your apartment while talking. “Then I shall return after I complete my broadcast. Until tonight cher.” He kissed your knuckles and saw you through the door before leaving. You turned on your radio and tuned the dial to Alastor’s station. About ten minutes after his broadcast normally began you heard the crackle of his voice.
“Salutations listeners! Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen, I know everyone has been eagerly awaiting the show. I am Alastor, a pleasure to be sharing this time with you all.” You sighed in relief. You would have felt terrible if helping you jeopardized Alastor’s job.
You left the radio on, letting his voice fill the apartment while you took care of minor tasks. Eventually he signed off with his normal outro “Until next time dear listeners, thank you and goodnight!” You didn’t know how long it would take for him to get from his station to your apartment but you felt it best to finish getting ready.
So you were dressed for the evening when he arrived. That was the start of a new routine for you both. Alastor walked you to work and back, enjoying the illicit beverages and your voice. Sometimes he would stay the night in your front room but he mostly dropped you off before making his way home.
He was a lovely conversationalist and those walks were much more cheerful than they had been. You felt easy around him in a way that was foreign but fulfilling. Eventually your friends and coworkers at the speakeasy asked if you two were courting.
You honestly couldn’t answer. You’d never had a beau before. According to friends over the years, you had been asked out by a lot of fellows and turned them all down. Was that why none of those men talked to you again? Apparently you hadn’t realized their intentions.
One night, a couple months after the attack, you mentioned this to Alastor. “Isn’t that strange, cher? They think we’re a couple!”
He stopped dead, his lips barely keeping their ever present smile as the rest of his features went blank. “Is…is this what courtship is?” He blinked down at the hand in the crook of his arm, the high heeled feet he had shortened his stride to keep in step with, the new gleaming hat pin he’d gifted you.
“I…am not really sure. I’ve never had a beau before.” You looked up at him, seeing the lips that gently kissed your knuckles every time you parted, the dark auburn hair you would stroke when he was stressed, the patterned bow tie you had given him the same day he gave you the pin. “Although, if this is what courting is, I’m glad it’s with you Alastor.”
“Hmm…” he resumed walking, this time humming one of the songs you sang that night. Once at your place, he finally replied. “I believe I agree with you my dear. Since we are a couple it seems, I’m glad it’s with you, Y/N.” He not only gave your hand a kiss, but leaned down to kiss your cheek as well. “I suppose you can tell your friends tomorrow they were correct. Bonne nuit, ma cher.”
Roughly a month later, Alastor was spending the night in your apartment when you felt the need to ask a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Alastor, cher,” you sat next to him, pulling his attention from the book he was reading. “Had…have you killed other people before that night?”
He froze, which really was all the answer you needed. “Are you still?”
For a man so glib, it took him a moment to find his silver tongue. “And if I am?” He choked out. “What will you do, Y/N?”
You studied him, making sure not to move and not to touch him. “I would ask what sort of people they are. And if they are of the same mold as the men who attacked me…then I’d also ask you to be careful, cher.”
He relaxed slightly. “Unfortunately there are a great many like-minded men in the world, although a few less in this city in the past few years.” He paused. “I can’t help myself dear. I see them acting as they do and feel the need to remove them from this life.”
Gently, you placed a hand over his. “I can hardly blame you for that. Especially after you saved me.” Your other hand turned his head to look into your eyes. “Your secret is safe with me, Alastor.”
The man was usually so composed; it was kind of cute to see him so surprised. He then cupped your cheek and lightly kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss.
It was one kiss and it didn’t last long. Pulling back from each other, he licked his lips while you pressed your fingertips to yours. “That was quite nice.” Despite singing so many songs about love, you had never been eager to try out all the steps of romance.
“Indeed it was. Shall we add that to our list of favorable courting actions?” You smiled and pulled out a paper, a fourth of the way filled with a list. You added “kisses on lips” to it.
Before too long, you were helping him with his activities. Initially you assisted in the clean up, but then you started taking part in the kills. Alastor admired your channeled fury and impeccable aim. You admired his precision and calculated execution. The two of you had to be sparing with your activities however. You didn’t want to draw suspicion. The kills were never closer than a week from each other.
Roughly a year after you met Alastor, the subject of marriage came up. It was while you two were disposing of another uncouth man; he made the mistake of trying to get you away from your beau and received knife stabs from both of you. You no longer had to rely solely on your hat pin; you had a stiletto blade of similar size now. Alastor finished covering the body in dirt; he refused to let you help with digging at all. Instead you kept an eye out as he did.
You provided him with a cloth to clean off the dirt. “Merci, ma cher.” Once he was ready you put it back into your bag and linked arms with him. As you walked together, satisfied, he asked, “Y/N, shall we get married?”
The question caught you off guard and you stumbled forward. Just like that first night, he caught you smoothly and lifted you into his arms. “ Alastor, darling, where is this coming from?”
“Some at the radio station inquired as to our relationship. I was informed that a successful courtship as ours generally results in a marriage.” He hummed as he carried you. “After some thought, I realized the prospect of wedding you is…very appealing.”
You nestled into his embrace. “I haven’t given it any thought. It would make life simpler, you wouldn’t have to dash around between our homes and work.” You mulled it over. You would like seeing him every morning instead of on occasion. The thought of your dresses next to his suits in the wardrobe, helping each other clean up after a kill, relaxing quietly on the couch while you both read… “Yes. Let’s get married Alastor. I’d like that.”
He smiled down at you, looking oddly tender considering what the two of you had been doing just half an hour ago. He leaned down to kiss you softly. “Let’s get you home and we’ll work out all the details tomorrow, my dear.”
Initially the two of you planned something simple. But once both your and his coworkers got wind of the nuptials, they insisted on a grand party. Apparently they all felt the two of you were adorably hopeless. Neither of you had realized how invested those around you were in your relationship. You and Alastor concluded that resisting your friends well-wishes was as pointless as resisting a hurricane.
So while the ceremony was a small affair, the party after was held at your club and lasted deep into the night. The proprietors had managed to get a bottle of champagne for you and Alastor. Despite it being your wedding reception, you couldn’t help performing one of Alastor’s favorite songs. He then kept you on the dance floor the majority of the evening. He danced as well as he talked. It was a good thing you’d had over a year as his primary dance partner.
You heard some ribald jokes about his stamina. At least that’s what they sounded like. You still couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered much to either of you. All you cared about was your husband was having a great time, out dancing everyone in the building. Once it was time to leave, he carried you into a cab, then carried you into his home.
Despite what the guests had suggested, he was tired after all that. Frankly you were too. So once divested of all the fancy clothing, he tucked you into the bed and climbed in next to you.
For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous in the faint starlight. Of course. This was so far beyond both of your experiences. You probably looked the same. “Alastor? May I?” You held out your arms to him. He gave you a nod and you embraced him, slowly nestling your body against his. “Let me know if it’s too much, cher,” you murmured as he wrapped his arms around you.
He started to relax with you. His breathing matched yours, your heartbeat synchronized with his. You felt his arms growing heavy, their grip softening. Alastor nuzzled your hair and kissed the crown of your head. “Thank you for marrying me, Y/N.”
You smiled. “Thank you as well Alastor,” you replied before drifting off to sleep.
The two of you did have sex eventually. The first time was a few weeks after the wedding. You were both back to work after a brief honeymoon; when you got back the other singers, the band, even the bartender were all curious about your bedroom activities. They surrounded you while Alastor was conversing with another patron. When all you talked about was how nice falling asleep with him was and the cute sight of him sleeping as the sun rose, they stared at you slack jawed.
Your coworkers consulted amongst themselves. You heard snippets of “do we need to explain this too, did no one tell them about that, they’re both such lookers too, I don’t wanna tell her, you do it, no you, I ain’t gonna tell her.”
After some discussion it seems Mimzy, another singer was appointed to talk to you. “Y/N, sweetie, doll, did your mama ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” She guided you to the bar and requested drinks for you both.
“Mimzy! I do know about sex. Gracious, I’m aware of adult urges and where babies come from.” You threw back your drink. The curvy blonde breathed a sigh of relief; at least she didn’t need to go over the basics.
“That is usually what a honeymoon is for dearie.” Mimzy tossed back her own drink. “Look cutie, what you and your mister do at home is your business, but your friends don’t want you missing out! You two are good together; I’ve never seen either of ya this happy before.” She downed another drink before hopping over to the stage.
Alastor came up to your side. “Looks like your friends are all in a tizzy dear.” You smiled up at him. “Did you have a strange conversation with your colleagues today too?”
“Ah yes,” he leaned on his new cane, a wedding gift. “Concerning my bedroom prowess and your presumed enjoyment thereof.” You couldn’t help but laugh huskily. “The station manager even told me to ‘remember my duties as a husband.’”
You gave him a peck on the cheek. “I believe you’re going above and beyond your duties cher.” He kissed your hand and held it while the two of you listened to Mimzy’s set. “I’d best get up there darling.” You gave his hand a squeeze before going to take the stage.
You sang a mix of familiar tunes and a couple new ones you’d picked up on the honeymoon. To finish the performance, you sang the same number from your wedding night, which you had come to think of as Alastor’s song. Many of the patrons were familiar with the two of you, so listening to you sing to your husband made a number of them go misty eyed.
Once back at home, Alastor cleared his throat while unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you want to, cher?”
You continued to remove your jewelry. “Perhaps one day.” You applied cold cream to remove your makeup. “And you cher? Do you want to?” You asked back as you wiped your face clean.
He was putting up his suit, more intent on making sure it lined up on the hanger than usual. “Perhaps one day,” he echoed. He stopped fiddling with the suit and stood there in his underclothes. Alastor’s ever present smile was still there but his eyes looked lost.
You finished your nightly routine and went to him, asking gently before taking both his hands in yours. “Ma cher, when have we ever been a normal couple? We already have almost a full page of physical affections we enjoy. If we want to see if sex will be on that list one day we can. But not unless we both want to try it.” His smile became more genuine and he pressed both of your hands to his lips. “Thank you my dear.”
You gave him a playful look and started humming the opening bars to his song. Alastor gave you a quizzical look back as you started singing it. Before the first verse was over you pulled him into an impromptu dance. In the privacy of your bedroom, you and your husband danced into the night to your voice. To your delight, he joined you in duets and sang a solo for you as you slow danced together.
“Ah, my sweet songbird. I am glad I married you.”
“I’ve never really seen myself as a songbird before. If anything…” your eye caught sight of your hat pins on your vanity, “more of a shrike.” He looked at you in surprise. “A butcher-bird,” you clarified.
“No no, I’m aware. I never thought of that comparison for you. It fits though, they’re pretty little killers that impale their victims.”
“I’m glad you agree darling. Now, we should get some rest.” You put out the light and pulled him into bed. There was a bit of hesitation on his part as he laid down. But he was soon settling into what was becoming your normal sleeping positions: you nestled against his side with his arms around you.
A few days after that, he asked if you’d like to give sex a try that night. You didn’t have any problems with the idea so almost a month after your wedding the two of you tried it.
Of course you were both terribly awkward; Alastor pulled your hair more than once and you elbowed him in the neck. But the two of you managed it. Multiple times that night in fact. Evidently that was what those stamina comments were about. Afterward, as he held you close Alastor mused. “Hmmm, that was rather enjoyable. I still don’t understand everyone’s fascination but I’m not opposed to the occasional romp as they say. What did you think darling?”
You thought back. “Once we figured things out it was fun. I agree though, I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed about it. It’s rather messy in the end. And I think we can add it to our list, as an occasional activity.”
He chuckled. “You can add it tomorrow.”
The next day, you joined the other singers chatting before the sets started. One of them was gushing over her new beau and you realized this was a great opportunity to let them know. “Alastor and I had sex last night,” you stated, cheerful and straightforward. Again with the slack jawed looks. “Multiple times actually. I’m glad I’m in such good shape, it was more exertion than I expected.”
After a beat one of the girls asked “Well? How was it?”
“Hm? Oh! It was fun. My legs are pretty tired so I don’t think I’ll be dancing much tonight though. Alastor enjoyed it too, so we decided to do it again someday.” You heard the band warming up. “I’m up first tonight, best get up there.”
As you left the group they started talking rapidly to each other. “Do you think they actually did? Don’t see why not, they are the strangest couple I’ve ever met, at least they’re strange together, I thought for sure one of them would be more excited about doing it…”
Your lives settled into a comfortable routine together. You both continued with your jobs; his broadcast was quite popular and as you increased your skill and song repertoire, you became more successful in the nightlife scene. He accompanied you everywhere which was exactly how you liked it. Every so often the two of you would kill a ne’er-do-well or three. Occasionally you had intercourse. You often danced together, both at the club and at home.
This continued for a number of years. By now almost everyone around you was used to the idiosyncrasies in your marriage and just didn’t question it.
One night in late summer the pair of you were in the woods, hiding the latest kill. As you kept watch in the humid air, Alastor was dumping dirt over the corpse. “Are you sure you don’t need help cher?”
He grunted while lifting more dirt. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I made my darling wife fill a hole like this?” You could only shake your head in amusement. You shifted your feet but lost your footing in the process. Both legs swept out beneath you and you landed firmly on your rear. You did your best not to cry out in case your voice carried.
“Cher!” Alastor dropped the shovel to help you up. “Are you alright Y/N?” You nodded as you grabbed his outstretched hand. “Just slipped, I’ll be fine Alastor.”
You looked up at your husband and noticed that the branches of the nearby trees gave him the illusion of antlers. You were about to mention it when the sharp crack of a rifle rang out and suddenly his forehead blossomed into a spray of blood and brain matter. “ALASTOR!” His name ripped from your throat. He couldn’t hear it though; his smile was wiped away as his body dropped to the ground.
“Aw shit! I thought he was a deer!” The man who killed your husband yelled out, realizing what he’d done. You screeched and ran in the direction of the voice, pulling your hat pin out as you did so. The hunter wasn’t far. You leapt at him, screaming and crying. He was bigger than you but he wasn’t expecting a furious murderess to launch herself at him at full speed. He fell to the ground with you straddling his chest and you plunged the hat pin, the one Alastor gave you for your last anniversary, into the man’s eyes and throat. Over and over you shoved the steel into his face. The blood spray and viscera didn’t scare you anymore.
You faintly heard, “Jesus Mary and Joseph crazy bitch!” through your own screaming. You whirled in that direction to see the second hunter aiming his own rifle at you. You started to move toward him when you felt an intense pain at your brow, followed by nothingness.
—————
Part 2
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andhumanslovedstories · 9 months
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I realized that I’d missed the second pilot for Columbo, “Ransom for a Dead Man” so I took a break from the elevated hijinks of season three to go watch it. I didn’t really like it. Some weird choices, some grating characters. But I do think I love it?
The movie is so weirdly sexist. Like I mean that the way it is sexist is weird. The murderer is like if you reached into a bag of every evil female archetype/cliche, and you just grabbed a random fistful. She’s a gold digger evil stepmother career woman femme fatale stone cold bitch. She’s Barbra Stanwyck in Double Indemnity, and she’s the evil queen from Snow White. All the people around her keep saying stuff like “it must be hard for you, a man, to work for a woman,” and “she always wanted to be a big time fancy lady lawyer!” Her fatal flaw is that she’s too evil.
And Columbo ends up respecting her so much. And she ends up respecting him the same. There’s an alternate universe version of Columbo where there were any recurring characters except Columbo, where she’s the best character in all detective universes: recurring evil person the detective has a weird amount of sexual chemistry with. Something about Columbo’s characterization in this episode put me off, but from the point where they both know that Columbo believes she committed murder, it’s fuckin primo shit dude. They’re tangoing with each other. There’s a point where it seems like she’s having so much fun. You get the sense that she’s never had a real nemesis before and that it delights her.
She was also far and away the best character in the entire movie. Every time she wasn’t there, I wondering when’s my queen was gonna come back. There was a scene where Columbo’s getting lunch, and I was like “get the fuck outta here dude, I know my beautiful murderess is not joining your lame ass at this diner eating chili”
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lady-murderess · 6 months
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Have some Vanessa because she's pretty as fuck
and BC we need some more Elizabeth Lail love on this blog
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guardingthegalaxy · 3 months
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YOU FEEL... LOVE. FOR HER.
It's the way Quill's face just drops.
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outoftouchsoldier · 3 months
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Fuck yeah, it's my favourite time of the year.
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Since it's Valentine's Day, just be on the lookout for a certain someone... He'll make today unforgettable, I'm sure.
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ava-does-dumbassery · 7 months
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Egyptian pharaoh names but I’ve turned them into ancient cat names
1. Tutankhbastet (Tutankhamun)
This is the most obvious name on this list because literally all I’ve done is change out the name of one god for another god. I’m not doing that for any of the others I promise.
King Tutankhamun is the one pharaoh everybody knows about, which is ironic since his birth name literally means “the living (ankh) image (tut) of the Hidden One (Amun).” (“Tut” can also be translated as “likeness” or “statue.”)
Amun was the Egyptian god of, uh… stuff (he’s hidden. His whole deal is that he’s hidden). Bastet was the Egyptian cat goddess. Sometimes she was portrayed as a lady with a cat head, but sometimes she was just a cat. If you switch Amun’s name out for Bastet’s, it becomes “the living (ankh) image (tut) of the Cat Goddess (Bastet).” Truly, a name that only the most dignified and elegant cats deserve.
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Transliteration: twt-anx-bAstt
You could also say it “Tutankhbast” if you prefer.
2. Hatmiushepsyu (Hatshepsut)
Hatshepsut’s name means “the foremost (hat) of noblewomen (shepsut),” and it turned out to be really good name for her, since she became pharaoh and all. If you want to change it to “foremost of noble cats” it becomes Hat-miu-shepsyu, “miu” meaning “cats” and shepsyu meaning “noble.”
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Transliteration: HAt-miww-Spsyw
3. Nedjestiti (Nefertiti)
I am aware that calling Nefertiti a pharaoh is controversial since there’s a chance that Neferneferuaten might have been her daughter and not her. But finding names of pharaohs that you can do this to and are also popular enough to be recognized is hard so shush.
Nefertiti was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the ancient world (although we can’t confirm that because Nefertiti and all the other ancient women are now dead). Her name fits this, because it means “the beautiful one (nefert) has come (iti).”
“Nedjes” is a word meaning “small,” so changing the name to Nedjest-iti makes it mean “the small one has come.”
This is a good name, because if your cat is bad then you can use it in a derogatory sense to call them a penniless little beggar. Unfortunately, it only really works for girl cats, because the masculine version is “Nedjesiu,” which loses the pun quite a bit.
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Transliteration: nDst-ii.ti
4. Miumer (Narmer)
Narmer was the first pharaoh to rule over all of Egypt, and like other early pharaohs the only name used for himself was his Horus name instead of his throne name or birth name. (You know that TS Elliot poem about how cats have a bunch of different types of names? Pharaohs are like that too). Because Narmer was his Horus name, it was written inside an enclosure called a serekh instead of a cartouche.
The name itself means something like “striking (mer) catfish (nar)” or “fierce (mer) catfish (nar).” To change it to “striking cat” or “fierce cat,” you need to change nar to miu: Miu-mer. (Yeah the English translations of this one are stronger wordplay than the Egyptian versions, sorry.)
If your cat is a girl then the name should be Miutmer instead.
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Transliteration: miw-mr
5. Bitokris (Netiqerti/“Nitokris”)
Queen Nitokris was either a cunning murderess, whose name lurks in the shadows of history… or she was a 3,000 year old transcription error. The only potential record we have of her name in hieroglyphs is the name of a pharaoh called “Netiqerti” on the Turin kings list. This could be Nitokris, or it could be a mistake made by a scribe while trying to copy the name of the name of another, completely different pharaoh.
If Netiqerti is Nitokris, then her name means “Neith (Net, a goddess) is excellent (iqerti).” Bit-iqerti/Bitokris would mean “honey (bit) is excellent (iqerti).”
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Transliteration: bit-iqr.ti
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Dead By Daylight Ladies & Cuddling
The Artist
Surrounded by the cawing of crows roosting all around, You were in the middle of the enormous nest in the middle of the Artist’s realm, the Eyrie of Crows. You were not alone, as the Artist herself was laid besides you. She was on her side, carefully brushing and playing with your hair as you were on your back looking up at her. Others would find her shiny black eyes boring into them intimidating, but there was only warmth when it was for you.
Her lack of words never bothered you, she was expressive in everything she did. With the way she was tenderly preening your hair and the soft clicking coming from her throat every now and then while she moved her needle like claws across your skin it was easy to see she had affections for you.
Carmina, as you had found out was her real name, carefully laid her head on your shoulder. Nestling her nose into your neck, soft murmurs came from her throat. You could feel the ink from her mouth and eyes dripping on your skin, leaving thick dark trains in its wake. As her lithe body pushed against your side, she pressed kiss like tar to your collar bone that would surely stain you for days. Not that you minded.
The Huntress
To say Anna was bigger then you would be an understatement. The woman was a mountain, which made it all the better when she pulled you on top of her to cuddle. She didn’t hesitate to hoist you up with her onto the cottage bed and settled you on her. It was serene to be wrapped in her thick, warm arms in such a cold and dreary forest.
A deep hum came rumbling from above you, you felt the vibrations run through her chest . It was a song that struck fear into everyone else, and admittedly it used to do the same for you. But now it only comforted you as Anna ran her hand up and down your spine, her uneven and claw like nails sending shivers through you. It was both soothing and threatening to known those strong hands that held you so close to her body could easily break you, but she chose to just rub them across your back instead. The soft lullaby sent you both into sleep, you truly felt the safest you’d ever been in the arms of a murderess.
The Pig
The couch was uncomfortable at best and it was cold as usual in the meat plant, but the warmth coming from your side made you try to get even closer to the woman next to you. Amanda let you, her arm around your shoulders as you leaned heavily into her with your arm around her torso.
The two of you were just quietly listening to the rock music Amanda had provided, the noises of the machines endlessly pumping in the background. She’d wordlessly taken off her usual robe and put it around you to keep you warm before you’d both gotten comfortable on the dingy couch that was the only remotely comfortable thing in the entire building.
Amanda’s arms were spread across the back of the couch, letting you embed yourself into her side. She was stiff at first, eventually forcing herself into relaxing. No one else could get away with how close they were to the woman behind the Pig mask. She even pulled you into her more when you tried to adjust yourself, clearly not entertaining the idea of you getting up anytime soon. She had you caught in a much more domestic trap than her usual ones.
The Plague
She was… hesitant, when you brought up trying to cuddle. For obvious reasons, physical touch was very dangerous for you considering the sickness that radiates from her. But you were adamant, you wanted to show her you weren’t scared of her (and those fountains were there for a reason, right?)
Adiris relented, but insisted that she always be facing away from you just in case she vomited on accident. It wouldn’t be very romantic to have puke all over you. That just meant you wrapped your own arms around her, holding her to your body. This surprised her, your willingness to be so close to her despite her condition worried her for your well-being but the lonely, selfish part of her after all these years couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of human contact.
Pressing your face against her back, you felt her let out a contented & slightly wheezing sigh as she relaxed against you. Her considerable height made it look a little silly to try to wrap around her as her long legs stretched far past your own. The simple act of it, however, made her feel so loved. Cuddle her more.
The Spirit
Cuddling her was difficult to say the least. Cutting yourself or impaling yourself on shards of glass was not what either of you wanted. Outside of trials, of course. Instead, Rin settled her head in your lap, her hair floating upwards towards you as she looked up at you. Playing with her hair will have her slightly icy exterior melting immediately. Not to mention it’s very fun to mess with the wild, flowing tendrils as they tickled at your face.
A little trial and error and some med kits were used but eventually you reached a way for Rin to cuddle you back. You rested your head on her abdomen, a hand curled against her rib cage. It was one of the only places without many glass shards to rub against you. Her ghostly hand detached from her arm ran over your skin, goosebumps immediately breaking out wherever her freezing fingers touched. She will put her cold hands on the back of your neck to make you jump.
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