#like he was completely alone in his ordeal he had no support and he will make sure that Mina is supported every step of the way

[hxnbi]

✧ among the stars — sung jinwoo 

synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past

tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader

word count: 2.3k

note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)

Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is. 

You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.  

"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"

No reply.

A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught. 

Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while. 

He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely. 

Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.

Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent. 

But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.

Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.

Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.

Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.

With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath. 

Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door." 

Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."

And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return. 

The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.

Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.

'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'

But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.

Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?

He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it. 

Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"

His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.

The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke. 

Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that. 

The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants. 

And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."

"Tch…"

That memory. 

"...Beru."

The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?" 

The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"

"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."

Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word. 

He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.

Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared. 

But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air. 

A cruel reminder of your absence.

Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you. 

All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.

'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'

Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state. 

'They're right there.'

You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.

He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.

The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears. 

"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek. 

As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster. 

"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.

But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.

"Fuck…" 

As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him. 

"....."

"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.

It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.

But wherever he went, all he could see was you. 

You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.

It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.

"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."

Hah…

That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him. 

He shook his head. "... It's nothing."

A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink. 

Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."

Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'

He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.

It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.

You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.

But that couldn't have been more false.

That day gave him a false sense of security…

The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul. 

It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.

In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.

Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.

He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent. 

All because of him.

It was no one’s fault but his own.

The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.

They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.

And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.

It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.

He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.

The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby… 

He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.

But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.

For you had long already passed away.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[stsgluver]

tags. criminal mind!au, gojo x reader, unestablished relationship, mentions of blood, slight angst

"stop hovering."

there had to be at least two dozen emergency staff buzzing around you, ranging from medical to the fbi. everyone had a role to play in aiding the injured and ensuring no one else died tonight.

your job, for the most part, was complete. you'd profiled and detained the unsub and, although the adrenaline racing through your body had you on high alert still, you were more than ready to climb into your hotel bed.

"gojo," you called out the name of your white-haired colleague after he didn't respond to you. he wasn't listening, too focused on the movements of the paramedic who was sterilising the cuts on your arm and forehead. luckily, you didn't require any stitches. "satoru."

his first name, which you ever so rarely used while on duty, had him at least making eye contact with you. he wasn't injured but he definitely needed to shower - there was dirt staining his face and hair.

"i’m fine," you repeated for what felt like the millionth time. you loved your team, you really did, but you all worked the same dangerous job that came with the same dangerous risks. you came out of the ordeal as unscathed as you possibly could've been and while you were grateful for their concern, there needn't be any.

“barely," gojo muttered, electric blue eyes tracing the cut on your forehead that had yet to be cleaned, the blood still staining your skin.

you lightly shook your head, "that’s an exaggeration."

that set gojo out of whatever daze he'd been in as he frowned at you. "is it? what if i’d been another thirty seconds?"

out of everyone on the team, gojo was your favourite for several reasons. whilst yes, there was the obvious closeness between the two of you as your similar age had meant you'd quickly become close friends, there was also his attitude. it was rare that you ever saw gojo so serious, always finding a way to lighten up the mood no matter how dark or twisted your job gets.

this, however, was not lightening any mood, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were the cause of his unease.

"but you weren’t," you countered softly, trying not to sound like you were arguing or dismissing his worry.

you'd entered the building alone - inside was the unsub and a hostage and no one else would be on site for at least a few more minutes. the kidnapped girl did not have that time so you risked it.

after an altercation with the unsub, the hostage had managed to run free but you'd been left pinned down on the ground with a gun pointing at your forehead. no amount of negotiating could talk them through the psychological break they were experiencing so it was very likely that had gojo not shown up and put a bullet through him that you may died tonight.

but he did show up. he always did.

"yaga didn’t give you clearance."

"i know he’s already lectured me." it was exactly what you had wanted as gojo had helped you out of the building. he'd even stood by you as yaga spoking, supporting most of your weight as you'd twisted your ankle. "i don’t need to hear it twice."

"don’t you? i-" gojo stopped himself for a moment, running his hands through his hair as he so often did when he was frustrated. "we could’ve lost you." you felt bad for the poor paramedic who probably just wanted to get their job done and not have to listen to your quarrel.

"i’m fine satoru." you felt like a broken record.

your insistence wasn't enough for him to overcome his anger towards you and you had to fight off any tears as you watched him storm off into the crowd of people around you.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your usually bright and bubbly self snaps when you hear people talking bad about your boyfriend

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, one slap LMAO 😥, people are very mean in this :(

(loosely) based off this request: Just dorky shy ethan x sweet bubbly (maybe popular??) reader from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: two posts within the same day?!? also i only kinda followed the request but i think its similar! hope you guys like this one! 💘

you had just finished drawing a nose and whiskers with bright eyeshadow, when your phone lit up. you picked your it up, to see that ethan had texted you. you smiled and unlocked your phone to open the message.

ethan 💗

hey im omw

ill be there in 10 

                                                                         you

                                                          okay!! ily! 💘

ethan 💗

love you too ❤️

you and ethan were walking together to some frat party for halloween. a couple of your friends begged you to go, however you knew ethan wasn’t the most comfortable at parties. 

you asked him one afternoon if he was up to it, making sure to emphasize that it was okay if he didn’t want to go, and that you would be happy to stay home and watch movies all night if thats what he wanted.

ethan wanted to be supportive, so he said he didn’t mind going, which was a complete lie. but seeing the smile on your face when he agreed was totally worth it. 

you and ethan decided to be characters from ratatouille. you were the remi, and he was chef linguini. you took a more sexy approach, with a grey corset and mini skirt, while he dressed a little more modest, with jeans and an apron. 

you carefully put on the headband with little mouse ears attached to it, and your costume was complete. shortly after, you heard knocking. you left your room and headed to let ethan in. 

you giggled at the sight of his costume, and went to plant a kiss on his lips. he kissed you back, his face now a shade of red. 

“you looks so cute!” you say, grinning widely. ethan compliments your outfit, and you head off the party.

you interlock hands with him on the short walk, your arms swinging with every step. you heard the house from down the street, the typical frat party music blaring loudly. 

you enter the rowdy estate, and immediately see some of your friends. you rush over to them, dragging ethan along with you. you let go of his hand to hug your friends, which left him standing their awkwardly. 

you decide to go find some drinks, and invite ethan to follow you. however, on your way to the kitchen, the crowd separates you and him. 

when you find the drinks, you realize ethan wasn’t with you anymore. you reach the keg and fill up a red solo cup, trying to be quick so you could find him again. you search for a soda in the alcohol filled kitchen, knowing ethan wasn’t a big drinker.

while opening all of the cabinets, looking for anything that wasn’t spiked, a man around your age walked up to you.

“what are you? a mouse?” he asks, trying to start a conversation.

“remi the rat actually, im matching with my boyfriend.” you say, trying to politely express your disinterest while still searching for a damn soda. 

“whatcha looking for?” he continues to pester you, despite your previous comment.

“a soda, for my boyfriend.” you make sure to accentuate the boyfriend part, hoping he would take the hint. 

he opens a cabinet and hands you a sprite. 

“uhm thanks i guess.” you reply, and turned to walk away. the strange man grabbed you by the wrist, turned you around, and pulled you closer to him.

“he doesn’t have to know.” he whispers maliciously. 

you yank your arm away from him, and take off the other way. you tried your best not to make a scene, hoping that you could leave that all behind you and have a good time. 

he seemed to leave you alone after that whole ordeal, and you searched around the house for ethan. you eventually spotted him in the corner alone, scrolling through his phone. 

a wave of guilt washed over you. you should have been able to tell that he was lying when he said he wanted to come. 

you rush over, and apologize for leaving him. 

“im so sorry eth, we can go home if you want.” 

ethan saw the look of disappointment in your eyes, and he couldn’t bear to make you leave.

“it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. can you stay with me, please?” ethan asked. 

“of course, baby.” you replied, handing him the soda. “i know you don’t like drinking, so i found a soda for you!! all i could find was sprite, although i know your favorite is coke.” you say.

ethan smiled at your caring personality. how did he pull you? you were drop dead gorgeous and extremely popular, and he was well, just ethan. 

a loser, friendless, and a nobody were all words people used to describe him. you however, made him feel the opposite.

with you, he was someone. he could be himself around you, and make the stupid dad jokes that he was scared to say around other people in fear of being judged. 

just then, someone shouted your name from across the room. you grabbed ethans hand and interlocked your fingers once again, making sure he stayed by your side this time.

you pulled him over to a group of people, all of which he was unfamiliar with. you greeted all of them with a smile, and started catching up with them.

“your costume is so cute!” said one of the girls you were having a conversation with. 

“thanks!! ethan helped pick out most of it!” you reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder and smiling.

what you seemed to miss was the nasty glares they gave ethan. 

“is he uhm.. your boyfriend?” another girl from the group asked. what you didn’t miss was the tone she used. it was like she was ridiculing him, and for what? 

“yeah. got a problem with that?” you ask in a sarcastic tone, although you weren’t in the mood for being funny. 

“its just.. he’s kinda… nevermind.” the girl says back, her voice lowering at the end.

“no, say it. he’s kinda what?” you respond back, not as cheerful this time. ethan stood next to you, looking down at the ground. 

“fine. he’s a fucking weirdo.” the girl blurted out, and you were livid. in the heat of the moment, you slapped her straight across the face, hoping to knock some sense into her. 

the group gasped, and ethan looked at you with wide eyes. 

“what the fuck?!?” she shouted, getting everyones attention.

“how the hell are you gonna make fun of my boyfriend when you’re to much of a slut to even keep one?!?!” you yell at her. all you heard was “ooohs” from the crowd at your statement. 

ethan dragged you outside before anyone could say anything else. 

“are you okay??” ethan asks, worried. you look at him confused. 

“i should be asking you if you’re okay! those bitches had no right to say anything about you. you’re the best boyfriend, and if they can’t see that, than it’s their loss.” you reply.

ethan just hugs you upon hearing your words. 

he wanted to spend forever in your arms. you were his savior, protecting him from every asshole out there. 

[theaestheticsromance]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

Minors do NOT interact Words: 2,637

So I request there be more Alastor x Male readers and my wish came true thanks to the lovely @home-for-wayward-fawns who did an amazing job at capturing my character so go and give them lots of love and check out there story called A Mothers Devotion.

The problem with Alastor was that he was beautiful and he knew it; Alastor did not need to ask, nor beg, because he knew, deep down, that he would achieve what he desired eventually. If he waited you out, if he arched his body in the right way and made the right noises, he would attain those desires.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥.

You could always tell when he was having one of those days. Alastor had always made it a point to rise from the world of slumber before you; usually up and dressed before you had even recognised that a new day had begun— but not on days like today. On days like today, he’d remain asleep in your embrace, allowing you to awaken to the feeling of him squirming in your arms. He’d allow you to kiss down his back while he pressed his posterior flush against your hardening cock, all before announcing it was really time to be up!

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 �� 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣��𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘺.

You’d known then, he was playing that little game of his, expecting that you play along lest he have a tantrum. He’d dress himself slowly, never giving you the satisfaction of looking at you, but you’d know he was expecting you to watch him appreciatively, and you would. Not necessarily because it was what he wanted— despite you always giving him what he desired— but rather because it was impossible to look away. He was just divinely beautiful, and he knew it.

Breakfast would be an entire ordeal because no matter what you did, you obviously were not paying enough attention to him. You were not to talk to others at breakfast; you were not to touch others at breakfast, because all of your attention was to be on him and him alone. Somedays you’d deny him his insane demands, because they were simply that: insane. But not today; today you kept your eyes trained on him, trained on his sharp teeth as he tore through his breakfast. He’d tilt his neck in that way; the way that said that tonight he wanted you to break him, but not yet.

𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩.

He wasn’t beautiful in the way some of your previous lovers were; pretty little things that crawled on the floor for your attention. Small things, cute things, creatures that were designed to be on their knees; no, Alastor was beautiful in a completely different way. He was beautiful in that he was raw; he was a wild animal that couldn’t be caged, should never be caged, but when he chose to sit on his knees for you because he wanted to, nothing could ever compare.

You attempted to get work done in the office you shared with Charlie. She had wonderful ideas— lovely ideas, really— but none of them were particularly financially conscious. She was so used to Daddy’s support that she didn’t always think to remember that when running a business, there were limitations. You were trying to help her sort these finances out, but Alastor craved attention. He’d come to stand behind you to peer down at what you were reading.

“This looks terribly dull, dear.” He’d informed you, and he wasn’t wrong. It was incredibly dull, but sometimes dull was necessary. You wouldn’t try to convince him of that though, not only because it simply wouldn’t work, but because his hands had found their way up to your shoulders. Squeezing at the tense muscles, pulling at it to loosen his canvas. He liked to hear your little moans and groans, and so you let him, if only he’d continue. “I’d hate to take you away from your work. I know how important it is to keep to one’s responsibilities,” He’d purr in your ear, and just like that, he was gone with a wisp of shadows again.

Perhaps the worst torment of all was his bloody shadow. The thing followed you throughout the day; just because he wanted to pretend this wasn’t about him wanting attention, didn't mean his shadow was playing along. The creature would follow you wherever you went, and as soon as you found a place to relax it would situate itself on its knees, almost mocking you. Some days you wondered if Alastor did it on purpose, enticing the shadow to show what Alastor wanted but refused to act upon.

Somehow you made it through the day, made it through the entire day without choking him whilst he danced around you, quite happy with his little game.

As soon as night fell, you escorted him back to the entry of the room you shared, pinning him against it without a second thought. He was laughing— giggling almost— with glee, joy and mischief. He had won, and you lost, and that was exactly how he liked his games to go.

You had let him win every time though, you’d let him win for an eternity if he kept laughing just like that. It was a beautiful sound, a sound so few had the pleasure of hearing, and you would play his games for the rest of your existence if he continued to give it to you. Pushing him into the room, you pulled at his clothes, the clothes he always wore that were far too many layers for your liking. You kissed every uncovered scar that was revealed, old and new, all while he reached up to run his hands through your hair, tugging tightly.

𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

“So impatient.” He purred underneath you as you manhandled him onto the bed.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨.

You stripped quickly, eager to have your hands back on his beautiful, scarred body as he watched you hungrily whilst you undressed. It never took you half as long to get rid of your own clothes as it did to get rid of his; the man, again, was always wearing far too many layers.

Kneeling on the bed beside him, you pressed kisses down his neck and his chest, forcing him to evoke soft little bleating sounds while he pressed his ears against the base of his skull. He, personally, hated the sounds that echoed through his larynx as you tickled his skin, but you were obsessed with those sounds, and sometimes, on a good day, he’d let you hear them without hesitation. Kissing down his happy trail, you enjoyed his trembling body that laid beneath yours.

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭.

Taking his cock into your mouth slowly, he let out a deep groan as he called out your name, the pretty tone of his voice escaping the muscle of his tongue. Slowly, you began to take him deeper into the depths of your mouth, holding down his hips with such force he couldn’t thrust himself into the wetness of your cavern forcing him to groan in frustration.

This was your favourite part of the game. He'd had his fun, so now it was your turn. Echoing a whine, Alastor attempted to fight you weakly, allowing you to swirl your tongue around his cock while he rumbled out the most beautiful of sounds. You continued to play with him, to enjoy his writhing form beneath you, until he’d finally beg. “Please.” He’d beg so prettily, prettier than one would think, could even believe was possible to come out of a creature such as he.

You’d allow him the pleasure of releasing his hips, permitting him to grab onto your hair to force his cock down your throat. He thrust into you like a wild animal, chasing for that high he sought out oh so desperately and you let him. He made the most beautiful noises, using your throat for his pleasure as his body shook in the most delicious of ways when you looked up at him with your eyes full of unushered tears, fighting to breathe through your nose.

That was what did him in, what always did him in; you choking on his thickened cock. “Mine,” He growled as you gently ran your palm up and down his wounded thighs, reminding him you were here for him. He pushed the top of your head down, forcing your nose to tickle the base of his pelvis bone before thrusting up, letting out a guttural groan as he released his peak down the innards of your oesophagus. Drinking it all up— just as you always did— you were eager to consume all of him before his clawed talons would release you; allowing you to look up at him, the most beautiful creature in the world. He covered his pretty face with his hands, hiding from you, and you would allow him to, for now; only because you weren’t done with him yet. You pushed the bottom of his thighs up before placing your lips against them repeatedly. “No more.” He’d whine on deaf ears as you ignored him.

Whispering sweet praises into his skin, because he needed to hear them, because he was more insecure than he’d ever let people know; you licked against his hole, forcing a gasp to escape his pretty lips as he reached up to pull at his own hair; you couldn’t help but chuckle.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

You told him to beg for you, to never stop begging for you, and he made good on his promise. “Don’t stop; never stop; touch me.” It was a compliment from the Radio Demon, to be begged to touch him, to invade his personal barriers when so few could, and you would never let him down. Pushing your tongue inside him, you wiggled the muscle deep inside him as his hips naturally gyrated down onto your face. He was beautiful, perfect, and smelled intoxicating.

Prying his ass cheeks further apart, eager to explore him deeper while he moaned. You pulled away, looking up to see his flushed face and blown-out eyes. Giving him a knowing look, you told him, relayed to him that he was beautiful, a specimen like no other, but you knew deep down that he didn’t believe a word that left your lips— not truly.

Climbing on top of him, you pressed a singular finger against his now-wet hole before placing your lips against his own. His sharp teeth scraping against the kiss as his overwhelmed innards forced him to crave to hurt you; and you permitted him to do as such, because of his undoubtful beauty. Groaning as his sharpened teeth bit down onto your bottom lip, he drew blood from your pierced skin, moaning so pretty at the taste of your natural essence.

Rocking his hips into your finger, his claws scratched with depth down your back, forcing you to hiss in pain. “I’m not some delicate damsel; give me more.” He demanded, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥; 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Adding another finger, you stretched him slowly before adding a third, forcing him to scream out in pain, throwing his head back in the process before moaning out in pleasure. You knew he wanted you to hurt him more, but he wouldn’t be happy if he lost the ability to walk tomorrow. “You’re a whore.” He spat, but you know he didn’t mean such a sentence.

“𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭; 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩.

“I hate you.” He spat, and you tried not to laugh.

Pulling your fingers out, he uttered a breaking and displeased moan, almost in a whimper. “I still love you.” You told him.

Gripping your cock, you pressed the head of your length against his entrance before pushing forward, forcing him to let out a mixture of pleasure and pain in a scream whilst his legs wrapped around your waist. “You love me?” He asked, his claws raking down your back before you nodded your head, struggling to concentrate on his words as you continued to push yourself into him inch by inch. Sitting up, he reached for you with desperate hands, digging his claws into your back so he could breathe into your ear. “Then fuck me.” He snarled.

It was as if he had released the beast out of the cage. Pinning his arms to the bed, you began to thrust wildly, forcing him to shout, to scream in that wonderful tone of his. Keeping his legs wrapped around your waist, meeting your thrusts with an angry passion; you finally found it; that perfect spot deep inside him that turned him into a mess. His entire body shook in routine as you hit it over and over again, his legs becoming shaky as he begged for more incoherently.

Releasing his arms, you grabbed the sharp features of his face before pressing a harsh kiss against his lips. Groaning into your mouth, he reached up to wrap his fingers around the back of your head, pulling you in closer. “I’m in love with you,” You whisper against his lips, breaking him in the process.

“Please,” he begged, so prettily, “I need more.” You reached down to grip his heavy cock; the phallic organ pulsing in your hand as you began to slowly stroke him softly, echoing beautiful whimpers and whines out of him, his posterior clenching down on your own thick cock.

“Cum for me, love.” You commanded, evoking a groan from him as he thrust up into your grip; his cum spurting all over your hand.

Rolling his eyes back, he collapsed into the bed. His body bounced off the mattress as his claws retracted so his arms can fall along with him; a sight that was so fucking beautiful; it sent you over the edge.

Grabbing his hips, you harshly thrust forward to cum as far and as deep as you can, forcing every part of his innards to be painted white with your heavy load.

“Maybe I love you a little bit.” He whispered into your chest as you collapsed on top of him, only for you to grunt in response. “And if you tell anyone, I’ll fucking gut you.” You chuckled before rolling off of him, pulling him on top of you, forcing him to sit still on your cock.

“I don’t care if you love me or if you don’t; I love you.” You spoke honestly with him, evoking a sigh to splutter through his throat before rolling his hips back onto your cock gently, a much softer ride as he lulled through post-orgasm bliss.

After he was done with you, you’d give him a bath; before you laid in the comfort of your bed together, but for now, you’d let him have this. The threat looms high over your heads, the angels are coming and there’s not a lot you can do to protect him. You wonder how far you’d go to keep him like this, your beautiful buck with his cruel words and haughty expression.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴.

Again go check out their stuff they are absolutely AMAZING

[home-for-wayward-fawns]

𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑀𝑒

This is a writing gift for a friend of mine. This is a male!reader/Alastor smut one shot :)

‎‎‧₊˚✧[Thank you to my wonderful editor @safety-pin-angel-wings, @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes]✧˚₊‧

The problem with Alastor was that he was beautiful and he knew it; Alastor did not need to ask, nor beg, because he knew, deep down , that he would achieve what he desired eventually. If he waited you out, if he arched his body in the right way and made the right noises, he would attain those desires.

It was a long con that he’d play, one that would start from the second he woke up and wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted.  

You could always tell when he was having one of those days. Alastor had always made it a point to rise from the world of slumber before you; usually up and dressed before you had even recognised that a new day had begun— but not on days like today . On days like today, he’d remain asleep in your embrace, allowing you to awaken to the feeling of him squirming in your arms. He’d allow you to kiss down his back while he pressed his posterior flush against your hardening cock, all before announcing it was really time to be up! 

It would do no good for both of you to get a reputation for being lazy . 

You’d known then, he was playing that little game of his, expecting that you play along lest he have a tantrum. He’d dress himself slowly, never giving you the satisfaction of looking at you , but you’d know he was expecting you to watch him appreciatively, and you would . Not necessarily because it was what he wanted — despite you always giving him what he desired — but rather because it was impossible to look away. He was just divinely beautiful, and he knew it.  

Breakfast would be an entire ordeal because no matter what you did , you obviously were not paying enough attention to him. You were not to talk to others at breakfast; you were not to touch others at breakfast, because all of your attention was to be on him and him alone. Some days you’d deny him his insane demands, because they were simply that: insane . But not today; today you kept your eyes trained on him, trained on his sharp teeth as he tore through his breakfast. He’d tilt his neck in that way; the way that said that tonight he wanted you to break him, but not yet . 

He wanted to play first.  

He wasn’t beautiful in the way some of your previous lovers were; pretty little things that crawled on the floor for your attention. Small things, cute things , creatures that were designed to be on their knees; no , Alastor was beautiful in a completely different way. He was beautiful in that he was raw ; he was a wild animal that couldn’t be caged, should never be caged , but when he chose to sit on his knees for you because he wanted to, nothing could ever compare. 

You attempted to get work done in the office you shared with Charlie. She had wonderful ideas— lovely ideas, really— but none of them were particularly financially conscious. She was so used to Daddy’s support that she didn’t always think to remember that when running a business, there were limitations . You were trying to help her sort these finances out, but Alastor craved attention. He’d come to stand behind you to peer down at what you were reading. 

“This looks terribly dull, dear.” He’d informed you, and he wasn’t wrong. It was incredibly dull, but sometimes dull was necessary . You wouldn’t try to convince him of that though, not only because it simply wouldn’t work, but because his hands had found their way up to your shoulders. Squeezing at the tense muscles, pulling at it to loosen his canvas. He liked to hear your little moans and groans, and so you let him , if only so he’d continue. “I’d hate to take you away from your work . I know how important it is to keep to one’s responsibilities,” He’d purr in your ear, and just like that, he was gone with a wisp of shadows again.

Perhaps the worst torment of all was his bloody shadow . The thing followed you throughout the day; just because he wanted to pretend this wasn’t about him wanting attention, didn't mean his shadow was playing along . The creature would follow you wherever you went, and as soon as you found a place to relax it would situate itself on its knees, almost mocking you. Some days you wondered if Alastor did it on purpose, enticing the shadow to show what Alastor wanted but refused to act upon . 

Somehow you made it through the day, made it through the entire day without choking him whilst he danced around you, quite happy with his little game . 

As soon as night fell, you escorted him back to the entry of the room you shared, pinning him against it without a second thought. He was laughing— giggling almost— with glee, joy and mischief. He had won, and you lost , and that was exactly how he liked his games to go.

You had let him win every time though, you’d let him win for an eternity if he kept laughing just like that . It was a beautiful sound, a sound so few had the pleasure of hearing, and you would play his games for the rest of your existence if he continued to give it to you. Pushing him into the room, you pulled at his clothes, the clothes he always wore that were far too many layers for your liking . You kissed every uncovered scar that was revealed, old and new , all while he reached up to run his hands through your hair, tugging tightly.

.

Alastor wanted to kneel, but he’d make you force him first. 

“So impatient.” He purred underneath you as you manhandled him onto the bed. 

He was a little shit, and he knew he as such, but that little fact was irrelevant, because he was all yours . 

You stripped quickly, eager to have your hands back on his beautiful, scarred body as he watched you hungrily whilst you undressed. It never took you half as long to get rid of your own clothes as it did to get rid of his; the man, again , was always wearing far too many layers. 

Kneeling on the bed beside him, you pressed kisses down his neck and his chest, forcing him to evoke soft little bleating sounds while he pressed his ears against the base of his skull. He, personally , hated the sounds that echoed through his larynx as you tickled his skin, but you were obsessed with those sounds , and sometimes, on a good day , he’d let you hear them without hesitation. Kissing down his happy trail, you enjoyed his trembling body that laid beneath yours. 

Beautiful. He was simply, yet uniquely beautiful. 

Taking his cock into your mouth slowly,  he let out a deep groan as he called out your name, the pretty tone of his voice escaping the muscle of his tongue. Slowly, you began to take him deeper into the depths of your mouth, holding down his hips with such force he couldn’t thrust himself into the wetness of your cavern forcing him to groan in frustration . 

This was your favourite part of the game. He'd had his fun, so now it was your turn. Echoing a whine, Alastor attempted to fight you weakly, allowing you to swirl your tongue around his cock while he rumbled out the most beautiful of sounds. You continued to play with him, to enjoy his writhing form beneath you , until he’d finally beg. “ Please .” He’d beg so prettily, prettier than one would think, could even believe was possible to come out of a creature such as he. 

You’d allow him the pleasure of releasing his hips, permitting him to grab onto your hair to force his cock down your throat. He thrust into you like a wild animal, chasing for that high he sought out oh so desperately and you let him. He made the most beautiful noises, using your throat for his pleasure as his body shook in the most delicious of ways when you looked up at him with your eyes full of unushered tears, fighting to breathe through your nose. 

That was what did him in, what always did him in; you choking on his thickened cock . “ Mine ,” He growled as you gently ran your palm up and down his wounded thighs, reminding him you were here for him . He pushed the top of your head down, forcing your nose to tickle the base of his pelvis bone before thrusting up, letting out a guttural groan as he released his peak down the innards of your oesophagus. Drinking it all up— just as you always did — you were eager to consume all of him before his clawed talons would release you; allowing you to look up at him, the most beautiful creature in the world. He covered his pretty face with his hands, hiding from you, and you would allow him to, for now ; only because you weren’t done with him yet . You pushed the bottom of his thighs up before placing your lips against them repeatedly. “No more. ” He’d whine on deaf ears as you ignored him.

Whispering sweet praises into his skin, because he needed to hear them , because he was more insecure than he’d ever let people know ; you licked against his hole, forcing a gasp to escape his pretty lips as he reached up to pull at his own hair; you couldn’t help but chuckle.

. 

He was precious. He was perfect, and you’d burn the world down for him. 

You told him to beg for you, to never stop begging for you, and he made good on his promise. “ Don’t stop; never stop; touch me .” It was a compliment from the Radio Demon, to be begged to touch him, to invade his personal barriers when so few could, and you would never let him down. Pushing your tongue inside him, you wiggled the muscle deep inside him as his hips naturally gyrated down onto your face. He was beautiful , perfect , and smelled intoxicating. 

Prying his ass cheeks further apart, eager to explore him deeper while he moaned. 

You pulled away, looking up to see his flushed face and blown-out eyes. Giving him a knowing look, you told him, relayed to him that he was beautiful , a specimen like no other, but you knew deep down that he didn’t believe a word that left your lips— not truly . 

Climbing on top of him, you pressed a singular finger against his now-wet hole before placing your lips against his own. His sharp teeth scraping against the kiss as his overwhelmed innards forced him to crave to hurt you; and you permitted him to do as such, because of his undoubtful beauty. Groaning as his sharpened teeth bit down onto your bottom lip, he drew blood from your pierced skin, moaning so pretty at the taste of your natural essence.

Rocking his hips into your finger, his claws scratched with depth down your back, forcing you to hiss in pain. “I’m not some delicate damsel; give me more .” He demanded, never letting you play the way you wished, slowly opening his body to you the way you desired; he wanted it hard and fast, and you’ve never been in the practice of denying him.

Adding another finger, you stretched him slowly before adding a third, forcing him to scream out in pain, throwing his head back in the process before moaning out in pleasure. You knew he wanted you to hurt him more , but he wouldn’t be happy if he lost the ability to walk tomorrow. “You’re a whore.” He spat, but you know he didn’t mean such a sentence. 

“I love you,” you said to him softly. Letting him know, understand that you forgave him, that you forgive him for the horrible things he says and does, and after it all; he’s still worthy of your love, whether he wants to believe it or not.  

“I hate you.” He spat, and you tried not to laugh. 

Pulling your fingers out, he uttered a breaking and displeased moan, almost in a whimper. “I still love you.” You told him. 

Gripping your cock, you pressed the head of your length against his entrance before pushing forward, forcing him to let out a mixture of pleasure and pain in a scream whilst his legs wrapped around your waist. “ You love me? ” He asked, his claws raking down your back before you nodded your head, struggling to concentrate on his words as you continued to push yourself into him inch by inch. Sitting up, he reached for you with desperate hands, digging his claws into your back so he could breathe into your ear. “Then fuck me .” He snarled.

It was as if he had released the beast out of the cage. Pinning his arms to the bed, you began to thrust wildly , forcing him to shout, to scream in that wonderful tone of his. Keeping his legs wrapped around your waist, meeting your thrusts with an angry passion; you finally found it; that perfect spot deep inside him that turned him into a mess. His entire body shook in routine as you hit it over and over again, his legs becoming shaky as he begged for more incoherently. 

Releasing his arms, you grabbed the sharp features of his face before pressing a harsh kiss against his lips. Groaning into your mouth, he reached up to wrap his fingers around the back of your head, pulling you in closer. “ I’m in love with you ,” You whisper against his lips, breaking him in the process.

. 

“ Please ,” he begged, so prettily, “ I need more. ” You reached down to grip his heavy cock; the phallic organ pulsing in your hand as you began to slowly stroke him softly, echoing beautiful whimpers and whines out of him, his posterior clenching down on your own thick cock. 

“ Cum for me, love . ” You commanded, evoking a groan from him as he thrust up into your grip; his cum spurting all over your hand.  

Rolling his eyes back, he collapsed into the bed. His body bounced off the mattress as his claws retracted so his arms can fall along with him; a sight that was so fucking beautiful; it sent you over the edge.  

Grabbing his hips, you harshly thrust forward to cum as far and as deep as you can, forcing every part of his innards to be painted white with your heavy load. 

“ Maybe I love you a little bit. ” He whispered into your chest as you collapsed on top of him, only for you to grunt in response. “ And if you tell anyone, I’ll fucking gut you. ” You chuckled before rolling off of him, pulling him on top of you, forcing him to sit still on your cock. 

“ I don’t care if you love me or if you don’t; I love you. ” You spoke honestly with him, evoking a sigh to splutter through his throat before rolling his hips back onto your cock gently, a much softer ride as he lulled through post-orgasm bliss. 

After he was done with you, you’d give him a bath; before you laid in the comfort of your bed together , but for now, you’d let him have this . 

The threat looms high over your heads, the angels are coming and there’s not a lot you can do to protect him. You wonder how far you’d go to keep him like this, your beautiful buck with his cruel words and haughty expression. 

You decide to the ends of the universe, the end of everything; you’d fight God himself to keep Alastor right here, making those pretty noises.

[tokkias]

ten baby dragons (or less) ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: Making a family of his own was not something Natsu had ever given much thought to, but as he held one of the guild's tiniest new additions in his arms he caught a glimpse into his future. ao3

It had been an ordeal getting Gajeel let him hold the babies for the first time. Levy had not been opposed to having Natsu hold one of them for a while, but Gajeel on the other hand, had not been so keen. He’d sprouted some excuse that he’d probably drop the poor kid or fry them to a crisp, but Natsu had promised he’d be on his best behaviour. With a little bit of convincing from Levy and Lucy, he eventually caved.

It had been a few days since Levy had given birth, and he and the rest of his team had been out on a job when it happened. Lucy had left them halfway through at the first indication of Levy’s labour, wanting to do her due diligence as godmother and support her friend through the birth. The rest of them had since returned home, reward in hand, to meet the twins.

Levy handed him sweet little Jutla, and he made sure to follow every rule Gajeel had set out for him beforehand.

He didn’t realise there were so many rules to holding a newborn: wash your hands before touching, no kissing the baby’s head or face, make sure to support the head and neck, and absolutely do not tousle the baby. Perhaps even more than that, he didn’t realise how serious Gajeel was about it.

He’d made sure to give Natsu a death stare as he made sure he knew everything he was and wasn’t allowed to do while holding the baby, and not one of those half-assed ones, the real Black Steel Gajeel death stare, the one that said, "If you hurt my babies, I hurt you."

Natsu had never really thought about having kids himself, but he supposed he could see where he was coming from. It was just like protecting any other member of his family, only this time, these ones were completely defenceless. He knew that Gajeel didn’t actually think he’d be careless enough to hurt them, but he was just a first-time dad worried about anything bad happening to his sweet little angels.

Jutla was so small in his arms, swaddled up nice and tight in her blanket. He’d seen babies before, but nothing quite like this. Jutla and Yajee were still practically fresh out of the womb. They still hadn’t left the house yet, and the only people to have met them before him were Lucy and Juvia.

She’d been sleeping when Levy passed her to him, and he had done his best to keep it that way, happy to simply enjoy this new experience. He held her close to his chest, and she stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

Gajeel had been raving about what he called the "new baby smell," and Natsu couldn’t deny that he had been itching to see what all the fuss was about. When he asked Lucy about it, she couldn’t describe it as anything other than "really, really good," and he knew he had to smell it for himself. Dipping his head down slightly, Natsu gently rested his nose on the side of her head, where soft tufts of blue hair were already beginning to grow, and gave her a good sniff.

The smell was sweet, almost cheesy, and he understood where the two of them were coming from. Honestly, he hadn’t really expected babies to smell like anything, let alone this sweet, but it was pleasant enough that he was happy to keep his nose nuzzled in the side of her head for a while.

It was strange holding her like this. It was as though keeping baby Jutla in his arms was both the cause and cure to some ache in his heart that he didn’t even know was there. He’d never given a passing thought to being a dad and having a baby of his own, to holding his own flesh and blood in his arms, to vowing to protect them for as long as he lived.

For so long he assumed that it would probably never happen to him; the rest of his life would see him going on journeys, never truly settling down, but now, sitting here holding this little bundle of joy in his arms, suddenly he was faced with the prospect that this could really be a journey of its own.

Something about it made him itch to tell Lucy about this revelation, like she was the first and most important person that needed to know.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Lucy passed in through the door and joined him at his side.

"Hey," she greeted as she joined Natsu on the couch, her voice soft and gentle so as not to startle the newborn resting in his arms. "How is it?"

Pulling his nose away from the infant, Natsu looked up at Lucy, whose gaze was stuck firmly on Jutla. Her expression was so soft and adoring, as though she were looking at a miracle right in front of her.

He supposed that wasn’t too far from the truth.

"I want ten of these," he replied, his voice as firm and full of conviction as it could be without waking the baby.

Lucy’s attention was drawn away from the baby for a moment as she let out a gentle giggle at his reply, and something about it made him feel truly whole.

It was as though holding a baby in his arms and having Lucy rest gently against his side as he made her laugh were the missing pieces in a puzzle that he wasn’t truly aware he was supposed to be piecing together.

"I didn’t know you were the dad type," she hummed.

"Yeah, me either," he breathed.

Lucy didn’t reply; she simply cozied up to his side, resting her chin on his shoulder to get a better look at the sleeping Jutla in his arms.

"Jutla’s usually the worse sleeper of the two, but she probably likes how warm you are," she explained.

Something about her words filled him with a sense of pride, like his paternal instincts had already begun to kick in and he was already proving himself as someone who would be a good father.

"Do you want kids?" He asked, suddenly very curious about her plans for the future.

"I think so."

"How many?"

"Two," she replied, confident in her answer, as though this was something she had been thinking about. "But not twins. These two are adorable, but I would like one at a time."

"Me too," he agreed, not giving it much thought but knowing the answer coming from her just felt right.

"Oh yeah? What happened to ten?" She teased, looking up from the baby to him. "Is the world not ready for Natsu and his flock of ten baby dragons?"

He opened his mouth to rebut, but before he could get the words out, Gajeel interrupted them to come and collect the baby.

"Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but Levy’s feelin’ the separation anxiety, so I gotta bring Jutla back to her," he explained, though Natsu somehow got the feeling that it wasn’t Levy who was experiencing the separation anxiety.

Lucy pulled away from him slightly, much to his dismay, and he could practically feel the heat of her blush radiating off of her at his words.

Natsu held Jutla out for him, and Gajeel scooped her out of his arms, gentler than he’d seen him do anything before now.

"Thanks fer not droppin’ my kid," he gruffly added.

"If you weren’t holding a baby, I’d kick your ass," Natsu hissed, keeping his volume low while the venom high.

"Yeah, yeah, sure ya would," Gajeel rolled his eyes as he left the room, taking Jutla back to where her mama was waiting for her.

"He’s a good dad," Lucy mused as they watched him walk away.

"Do you think I’ll be a good dad?" He asked, his heart thumping loud and hard in his chest from the moment the words left his lips.

"Yeah," she breathed. "The best."

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: this is entirely self indulgent btw (which is ironic bc I /can/ swim but idc I just want an excuse for Luci to hold me okay😭))

(Ironic bc as soon as I started writing this, Milk of the Siren by Melanie Martinez started playing lmao)

(If you don't know, it's basically about getting revenge on men and drowning them)

Word Count: 1,422

Summary: Lucifer finds out MC doesn't know how to swim and decides to change that

Warnings: don't know if this needs to be a warning but: reader can't swim (obvi)

Age Rating: Pg 13

Swimming Lessons: Lucifer x Fem! Reader

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

'I can do this... It's gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine.'

You're standing at the door to the RAD pool as you try to steel yourself for what's to come.

.

The House of Lamentation had gone for a beach day a week prior; just taking a day to wind down from exams and student council duties. You had managed to keep your inability to swim a secret for most of the day under the guise of keeping Beel from eating all the snacks.

All good things must come to an end, though. Cue Mammon chasing you down to throw you in the ocean.

All you could do was panic as you desperately tried to keep your head above the waves. Your feet slipping as the sand gave under you, unable to support the weight of your hysteric kicking.

But just as fast as you were thrown in, you're pulled out.

You sputter as you wiped the salty water from your eyes, your arm in someone's vice grip as they yank you to land. Looking to your savior, you're met with am angry Lucifer glaring at your assailant.

"I really should stop expecting you to start acting like the second oldest brother. No matter what punishments you recieve, no matter how many lectures, you never seem to grow up. It's one thing when you cause problems for yourself, it's a completely different problem when you almost kill an exchange student. You're a sorry excuse for an avatar, Mammon."

"Hey!- That's not fair! How's I s'posed to know the human can't swi-"

"Enough! Everybody, start packing. We're going home." The groans and protests are silenced with a cold glare leveled towards them.

One by one the brothers file off to gather everything with the occasional (read: frequent) insult or snide comment to the second born.

.

After the ordeal was done and everyone was back at the HoL, Lucifer had cornered you in your room.

You were unpacking your beach bag when he came in, door clicking shut behind him.

"You can't swim." He doesn't ask.

"What of it?" You ask, looking over your shoulder at him as you gather your bathing suit and towel to throw in the laundry hamper.

"Why?"

You shrug, moving back to your bag to put away your sunglasses and spf. "I don't know, I just never learned."

Minutes pass in silence as he watches you unpack, the only noise is the ruffling of your bag accompanied with the occasional clack of something dropping.

Eventually he breaks the silence. "Would you like to?"

"Like to what?"

"Would you like to learn to swim?"

You stop to think about it. "Um, I feel like I would just get embarrassed... Most people learn when they're kids and the ones that don't, rarely learn. I mean, can you really imagine me in a pool surrounded by literal children who swim better than me?"

You chuckle at the mental image of yourself with water wings on. "I think I'll pass."

"I was referring to me teaching you." He still hasn't moved from his sentry position as you shuck your now empty bag into your closet.

"Like, alone? With you? In a pool? With water?" No offense to him but you feel like all it would take is one wrong move and you'll have annoyed him to the point of drowning you. You tell him so, earning a rare Lucifer smile.

"You'll be safe." He muses. "I have an inclination that Lord Diavolo wouldn't take too kindly to me killing one of his exchange students. Much less one of his favorite ones."

"Ha ha," you fake. "Funny, though I'm far from his favorite.'

"But I guess I'll trust you."

.

So here you are, about to potentially enter your very own death chamber.

'Oh, god- It's not going to be fine.' Your heart starts to pick up but before you can fully freak out you hear a voice from inside.

"Are you going to come in or just stare at the door?" Lucifer calls from the other side of the door.

No turning back now. You push the surprisingly heavy door open, revealing an even more surprisingly sized pool. It easily puts an Olympic sized swimming pool to shame. You can scarcely see the bottom even in the so-called shallow end.

Lucifer is already in, arms holding his upper body out of the water as he waits for you to join him. You can't lie, you're having a bit of a struggle to not stare at his toned arms and what you can see of his sculpted chest.

"Come on, the water isn't going to bite."

"Says you," you mutter as you strip to your swimsuit. You pad over to the edge, sitting down to put your legs in first. Taking a deep breath, you push off, keeping a death grip on the siding.

A couple feet separate you from the avatar of pride.

"Okay, now push off and try to pad over to me." He holds out a hand to you.

"I thought you were supposed to be teaching me?" You're trying not to panic or look into the depths beneath you.

"I am. I need to see what you can do before I can help with what you can't." He states, gesturing you towards him.

"If I die, I swear to god, I will haunt you for the rest of your life. If you think Mammon is bad, just you wait until you see what ghost Y/n has in store for you." With one last proclamation of wrath, you shove off, more tossing yourself towards him than paddling over to him, but that's as much as he's getting from you.

As soon as your head submerges, you panic, arms flailing as you try to reach out to Lucifer. You feel his hand grip your forearm as he hauls you back up. It's when you clear your eyes of the awful, chlorinated water that you notice he had moved the both of you further into the pool. There's no way you can reach the siding from here.

"Fucking hell!" You scramble to cling tighter to Lucifer. "I'm gonna die. This is how I die-"

"Calm down," he interrupts. "You are going to die if you don't stop panicking."

He pulls you away from his body, causing your nails to dig further into his skin. "Look at me."

You do. Panting with pupils blown from fear.

"Are you drowning?"

"I-" "Are you?"

You swallow. "No."

"Exactly, and I told you I wouldn't let you; do you think I'm going back on my word not even 5 minutes in?"

"No..."

"Okay then. you said you'd trust me, so do so. Kick your legs lightly. Almost in a pedaling rhythm." He instructs. "We're going to start with keeping you above the surface."

And so, your legs start moving, the force of the water pushing back with each movement is a bit odd, but not too bad.

When you get a good rhythm going Lucifer drops your arms. "Keep kicking and stay calm."

You start to sink a bit but try to stay calm.

"Kick a bit harder."

You start to gain back face-to-water distance and you let yourself get excited.

"I'm doing it!-" In the process of celebrating, you stop kicking.

Just before your head goes under, Lucifer pulls you up yet again.

"What happened to 'keep kicking'?" He asks.

You look up to answer, only to find that his face is way closer than you thought. All too sudden, you're aware of his tight hold around your waist and how your chests press together as your hands rest on his shoulders. Your legs lightly brush against each other as you both kick to stay afloat.

"..."

"..."

Neither of you break the silence as your eyes stay locked together.

Are you going insane, or is his face getting closer?

No, it definitely is. Your noses bump as Lucifer tilts to the side. Your eyes are sliding shut and your lips are a hair's width apart when the pool door slams open.

Both of you jump apart as much as you can without him letting you sink. Luke stands at the entrance, staring at you with a look of shock.

"I- I was looking for Beelzebub- He... He ate the last of a cake I made and ran. I- Sorry." With that the angel scurries away, effectively taking the tension with him.

"..."

"I think we're done for the day." Lucifer says.

"Yep. Completely."

[help-rawan-muhammad]

🇵🇸 PLEASE DO NOT SCROLL! 🇵🇸

Below is a written piece by Rawan Muhammad, a Palestinian woman who needs our help. Please read her writing and donate to her GoFundMe. If you cannot donate, please, please, please share her words and her donation link!

FIRST PIECE-GOFUNDME WRITEUP

My name is Rawan Muhammad, and I am communicating with you from northern Gaza. I am studying in my third year in the Engineering Department. My future, my dreams, and my university have been destroyed. I am seeking to restore my unknown future because of this damned war, like the rest of the world’s students. My family and I are facing unimaginable hardships. Imagine an entire sector without water or electricity. There is no food, hospital, education, or home. We are on the verge of famine in the north. The terrible loss of our entire family shattered our lives. Our home was completely destroyed. Not only that, we became homeless forever because it was taken into the entity's buffer zone, we were left with nothing, leaving us alone in a world full of uncertainty and despair. With no source of income or support, we find ourselves navigating through these difficult times amid the ongoing atrocities of the occupation. Every second a new massacre is committed and rings of fire that no person in this world can bear. During this ordeal, I appeal to you to extend a helping hand to us, and to offer hope and comfort in our darkest hours. Your generosity can make a profound difference in our lives, providing us with the means to rebuild and forge a brighter future.

Can you describe this and focus with me for a moment, but try the feeling of every Gazan among us. 8 months ago, this damned war on the Gaza Strip began. It did not come out of nowhere, but rather because of the siege we are living in in this beautiful city. There are no free crossings open to us like other countries, no trains, no jobs, and no people’s most basic rights. Simple in any country, everything is controlled by a murderous Zionist entity that controls us

Every Gazan among us had dignity and self-esteem that was distributed to the whole world, and he sat at home happily, despite the sorrow we were experiencing. We were satisfied, relaxed, and thanked God for the little things. Everything was simple and made us happy. Our demands were simple, despite what made our specializations under this, including usurpation. It was considered... He made a great effort in the Middle East and stood alongside the largest countries in the world with the largest weapons in the world towards simple adaptation that did not have the equipment and equipment, but always relied on God.

Come, listen and focus on what Al-Ghazawi has been experiencing since October 7. No one has remained in his home since that day. We have all become displaced from place to place, under the belts of fire, under the remains of innocent women and children, under the rubble of houses that have become graves for their people. During this period, only one ambulance was able to go out. Anyone who left as a martyr was directly targeted, even if he was under international protection

They did not spare an ambulance or a journalist to broadcast the truth and the crimes committed by this accursed occupation. They were doing so to conceal the hideous truth that they were committing against our children, our women, and our elderly. I remember during that period, I did not sleep for just a single day due to the intensity of the bombing, the fire belts, and the hideous massacres. I was saying every second, “Here it comes.” It was our turn. We were all bearing witness to ourselves. Perhaps it was our last breath. No one would accept us to sleep alone. We were gathered in the same room. You can imagine why, so that none of us would feel sorry for anyone.

It was committing massacres in a very crazy way. The sound of the drones and the warplanes did not leave the Strip for a single day. Imagine, 24 hours a day, you hear that sound. Dear listener, our people were deceived into leaving to the south, considering it a safe area. More than 2 million people were displaced to this area. They tasted the scourges of torment in this small, inexhaustible outpost. It can handle this number due to its small area and the army entering every area and destroying it. After they used to rest in their homes, they began to move in tents from one area to another every now and then due to the ground entry of the occupation. Have you tried living in a tent and enduring its extreme heat, dear? You can imagine since that day there is no internet. In the Gaza Strip, there is no reassurance transmission, and there is no drinking water, and since that day, this city has not been illuminated

We now walk very long distances to obtain water. Our most basic rights are not potable water, but rather well water. We use it for drinking and other means. We no longer have a washing machine to wash clothes. All of this happens in the hands of the women of Gaza. We cannot fill a single barrel to use it to rinse the utensils. We fill the utensils and wash them. You can imagine. How difficult this is. There is not a single gas point in the Strip to use for cooking. We buy wood at very high prices for cooking. There is no electricity to charge the phone or battery to use for lighting. You have to walk some distance to find someone who uses solar energy to help you charge to meet your needs at nominal prices. Can you imagine? This suffering is not the hunger that afflicted us for months in northern Gaza because no aid truck has entered since the beginning of this aggression.

Everything has become insanely expensive due to high prices. The Strip has become on the brink of famine. Imagine your child waking up to get a living and you cannot meet his request in northern Gaza due to the lack of a living. My people in the north were going under death, under tanks, and over the bodies of martyrs who rose to get food. Every night, a new massacre was committed against these civilians who went to silence their starving children. Otherwise, they were deprived of their education, as their schools became shelters for the displaced, and there were no banks from which to spend your salary. If you wanted to receive your salary, you would receive half of it because of the high commission, so the sector became on the verge of poverty. Due to the lack of banks, everything in Gaza was destroyed. There was no house, street, mosque, hospital, school or university left to complete my dream and future that I started with. Everything was completely destroyed and nothing remained in Gaza except the complete destruction of the infrastructure. This is the goal of this damned war 😭

To this day, we cannot buy anything. We were deprived of all kinds of vegetables and fruits for 8 months in the northern Gaza Strip. Even if they are available in small quantities, their price is so crazy that you cannot buy them. You can imagine all these crimes happening in a small city in exchange for an organization that relies on God. Save what is left of us in This great city conveyed our voice to the world 💔😭

The situation is very bad in the north. Famine is hitting us again. We cannot really get food now. There is no gas or wood for cooking. The situation is very bad. We do not have our most basic rights. For 8 months, we have not eaten meat, vegetables, fruit, or anything that is found in malls, such as chocolate and chips. 💔 And we were satisfied. We ate the grasses of the earth and animal fodder here in the north for 5 months, and here the famine returns again.

[browneyess]

Let’s talk about Din’s side-story/show takeover in The Book of Boba Fett. Personally, I really liked the show! It definitely wasn’t great, but it had potential. However, what they did with Din and Grogu was horrid. Yes, it was cool, but they didn’t need to put that in an entirely different show. The only reason I can think of as to why the directors did that is to bring back Grogu faster, their biggest money grab. Disney is all about that marketability! I hated that so much. Another reason they might have brought Grogu back so quickly is that some people watch The Mandalorian for Grogu or just really love the character. Without Grogu, The Mandalorian was sure to have viewership rates drop. However, the show is called The Mandalorian, not The Mandalorian and Grogu (although the same title is being used for the movie to be released in 2026). It's bout the Mandalorian, not Grogu. While its plot is heavily supported by him, he’s not a keystone in it. The show can function just fine without Grogu. However, Din cannot!

Disney completely breezed over the two years Din and Grogu were apart. Two years. And you know what Disney does? They don’t acknowledge it! They don’t even hint towards the fact that Din was definitely mentally struggling without Grogu; he helped him in more ways than one. I’m going to be honest before I rewatched it, I didn’t remember how season 3 started. However, I do know how it should’ve started:

Season 2 ends with Grogu being taken away by Luke. The elevator door shuts and boom, that’s it. End of the season. The writers of the show could’ve taken advantage of that and started season 3 in the same place they left off. The poor writing left out so much important information, like what did Din do after he took off his helmet? Did he put it back on and act like nothing happened? How did the others react? How did they move on from that whole ordeal? Season 3 could’ve started with that. It could’ve explained everything that happened post-season 2: Din’s handling of being alone/an apostate, how he moved on/coped, what he did afterward (did he return to bounty hunting (TBOBF confirms that he did), or did he go on hiatus and/or hide somewhere?), etc. It’s so infuriating to me that Disney breezed over the fact that Din was definitely mentally struggling. The way they wrote Din’s part of The Book of Boba Fett and season 3 made it seem like those two years of grieving never happened. Don’t you think Din would be, oh I don’t know, maybe a little overprotective/clingy over Grogu? Perhaps even salty toward the Jedi! I know for a fact he’d hold a grudge against Luke/Ahsoka/other Jedi for taking his boy away from him. This isn’t DIN DJARIN, this is BIN JARRIN. UGH.

While season 3 could’ve delved into Din’s recovery from losing Grogu, it also could’ve taken advantage of the obvious doorway to introduce more flashbacks. In the entire show, we only get a single flashback, and it only explains what happened to Din’s family, how he became a Mandalorian, and why he dislikes droids so much. It is great that they did that! Although, they are severely lacking in a lot of other important backstory parts: how Din adapted to being a Mandalorian, his relationship with the other Mandalorians (Paz Vizsla and the Armorer especially—maybe some non-introduced characters?), what inspired him to be a bounty hunter, etc. etc. Oh my God, the possibilities for season 3 are genuinely endless, and it pisses me off to no end that they didn’t seize such a good opportunity.

Din’s part in The Book of Boba Fett and season 3 would be better off as season 4, of course, with better writing.

Genuinely there should be more focus on Din's obvious anxiety and trauma. They could have gone in so many directions with it and instead just brought Grogu back. I really wish they’d shown us Din fresh after losing Grogu because I feel like his separation anxiety would be insane (as loss can make that more prone to happen! And Din is no stranger to losing things at a young, impressionable age!). He literally watched his parents die. I feel so bad for him because he finally found an anchor in his life, and then this random blond-ass twink pulls up and is like, “Come with me.” Or something, I don’t know. And then Din takes off his helmet??? For Grogu??? And then that’s it—they literally don’t acknowledge it whatsoever. Like, what do you mean he’s a human with emotions and struggles! 😂 Never heard of her!

He didn’t trust droids for over half his life because of trauma, and I feel like there’d be other things he’d have bad anxiety over too (like Grogu and his attachments). Can we get more of that, please? Even still, he doesn’t trust droids. In season 3, he asked for IG-11 specifically, despite him being literally offline. He still tried to get him back, and it wasn’t until IG-11 REALLY went out of commission that he had to settle for R5-D4. Then in episode 6, Bo said, “Do any of them look suspicious?” and he replied, “All of them look suspicious” because the droids they were looking at specifically were battle droids—the kind that killed his parents. So obviously, he holds a grudge against that model. But I know for a fact he was uncomfortable on Plazir-15 because of the extensive droid staff.

The way they skipped over those two years gives Din Djarin’s character the impression that it meant nothing to him. Or—it went by so fast, he didn’t even realize. Whatever it was, it was a poor writing decision. Din’s character is beautifully complex, but the writers aren’t putting in the effort to even consider that.

Without Grogu, I feel like Din would be a lot different. More cold and quiet than he was before; how he was at the beginning of season 1 and The Book of Boba Fett chapter 5, "Return of the Mandalorian." He’s distinctly more dry in replies and more focused on his job than anything. The Book of Boba Fett at least gave us a little bit of Din without Grogu, but that didn’t even last long because the following episode Din goes to see Grogu. As much as I love Din and Grogu’s relationship, I feel like Din trying to move on—emphasis on trying—would make a good episode. Like trying to do a job, fresh from becoming an apostate and losing Grogu, and he just can’t focus with everything that had just happened.

A detail I love in The Book of Boba Fett chapter 5, "Return of the Mandalorian," are two things that remind Din of Grogu: the beskar chainmail wrapped in a way that it kind of looks like Grogu’s head, and the green Rodian child. As much as Din would like to move on, he simply can’t because everything reminds him of Grogu. Also, he literally had the Armorer break down the spear to make into a gift for a “special foundling,” and he wanted to see Grogu. They even talked about how Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments, but the Mandalorian Creed is built on attachments. While Din wants to keep Grogu, he knows he can’t because that’s not what Grogu can have. He’s destined to be a Jedi; there’s no dodging that.

Adding to that, without Grogu, I feel like Din would be a lot different. More cold and quiet than he was before; how he was at the beginning of season 1 and The Book of Boba Fett chapter 5, "Return of the Mandalorian." He’s distinctly more dry in replies and more focused on his job than anything. The Book of Boba Fett at least gave us a little bit of Din without Grogu, but that didn’t even last long because the following episode Din goes to see Grogu. As much as I love Din and Grogu’s relationship, I feel like Din trying to move on—emphasis on trying—would make a good episode. Like trying to do a job, fresh from becoming an apostate and losing Grogu, and he just can’t focus with everything that had just happened.

Considering how deeply Din's life has been affected by Grogu, his attempts to move on would undoubtedly be fraught with difficulty and reminders of their bond. 

Din’s journey without Grogu could have been an opportunity to delve deeper into his role as Mandalore and how he navigates that responsibility amidst his personal loss. This aspect of his character and the dynamics within the Mandalorian community could have added rich layers to the story. Instead, the show has overlooked these potential storylines, focusing more on quick resolutions rather than exploring the depth and complexity of Din’s situation.

In general, I want to see more of Din’s attachments—past and present. That’s what their culture is built on, right? It might be the lack of scenes he has with other Mandalorians, but he seems kind of distant from a lot of them (though the general plot of the show hasn’t really allowed us to see those connections in the past). The Mandalorian culture is built on attachment and trust, which contrasts with the Jedi. 

Seeing more of Din’s anxiety and how he handles his attachments would add so much depth to his character. His journey is filled with loss and trauma, and exploring these aspects would make for compelling storytelling. Season 3 could have delved into his struggles with trust and connection, especially in the wake of losing Grogu and becoming an apostate.

If you read this far, thanks! You're a real one.

[rukafais]

today, i'm thinking about how jarlaxle and kimmuriel go from an implied high trust level, hinted at or stated to be pre-timeskip stuff:

Jarlaxle’s principal lieutenant in his powerful mercenary band was an accomplished psionicist, and had taught Jarlaxle much in the ways of mental trickery and defense. Jarlaxle brought every bit of that knowledge to bear. (Ghost King)

“Many have promise,” Kimmuriel reminded. “Few will see it bloom, as you yourself know well.” (Rise of the King)

Intelligence alone didn’t guarantee psionic prowess—the brilliant Jarlaxle was quite fumbling with regard to the psionic powers, after all— (Archmage) which both allude to Jarlaxle letting Kimmuriel into his mind, repeatedly, to try to teach him psionics ultimately unsuccessfully

So, Jarlaxle is leaning on Kimmuriel a bit! He's allowing him past certain boundaries!

And then this happens, talked about in the Neverwinter quartet:

There it was, spoken openly, and Jarlaxle suppressed his initial response to lash out at the dwarf. Athrogate was right, he knew. Jarlaxle had betrayed Entreri to the Netherese many years before, when the empire had come in force for the sword, Charon’s Claw. It wasn’t often in his long life that Jarlaxle had been trapped without recourse, but the Netherese had done it, and before physically surrounding the pair, the powerful lords of Netheril had appealed to greater powers in Jarlaxle’s own circle of potential allies, to Kimmuriel and Matron Mother Quenthel.

Indeed, the snares of Netheril had been complete.

And so their offer had been accepted.

[...]

But that rescue attempt had never occurred, and indeed, many years passed before Jarlaxle had ever learned of the conspiracy working against him. Kimmuriel and the Baenres, for Jarlaxle’s own sake, had worked in concert to break down Jarlaxle’s magical defenses and thus allow the psionicist to invade Jarlaxle’s mind and alter the details of the Baldur’s Gate betrayal. [...]

Thus, by the time Jarlaxle had even sorted out the truth and remembered that Entreri had been taken as a prisoner of the Netherese, it was too late for Jarlaxle to do anything about it.

By that point, Matron Mother Quenthel had made it quite clear to the outraged Jarlaxle that he needed to forget the whole ordeal. (Charon's Claw)

and then in Jarlaxle's narration in Neverwinter quartet, when he clearly knows about his memory being fucked with:

Kimmuriel had witnessed the exchange with Tiago and the others in the bowels of Gauntlgrym, and so he understood the true desire behind Jarlaxle’s gracious offer to lead Bregan D’aerthe back to the City of Sails, and so, indeed, Kimmuriel’s invoking of their agreement was entirely proper regarding the interests of Bregan D’aerthe. Jarlaxle had done well in selecting this brilliant lieutenant to serve in his stead.

Too well, perhaps. (Last Threshold)

His narration starts being suspicious about Kimmuriel's motives again.

For contrast, the last time Jarlaxle really talked about him like this was when Jarlaxle first transferred power to Kimmuriel in Sellswords, specifically Road of the Patriarch:

Kimmuriel, and not Jarlaxle, ruled Bregan D’aerthe, and would continue to until Jarlaxle returned to Menzoberranzan and formally retrieved his throne. That was as they had agreed upon after the destruction of the Crystal Shard. Neither held any illusions about that agreement, of course. Jarlaxle knew that if he stayed away from his homeland for too long, allowing Kimmuriel to make inroads into the supportive relationships Jarlaxle had built within the City of Spiders, then Kimmuriel would not relinquish control of Bregan D’aerthe without a fight.

(and then he goes on to argue with himself like but kimmuriel doesn't LIKE leading...so it's fine...right? But he's still suspicious about Kimmuriel in a way that gradually goes away...and then pops up again, in Neverwinter.)

So the first House twisted Kimmuriel's arm to modify Jarlaxle's memory so he wouldn't go haring off to save Artemis and jeopardize business deals with the Netherese and also get himself murdered, Kimmuriel did so, violated the trust that Jarlaxle placed in him in allowing him access to his mind and imo, prioritized Jarlaxle's life over what he would want (better to beg forgiveness than permission etc),

and in doing so takes a hammer to every single bit of built up trust between them that took almost a century to grow and now they have to start from the bottom again and that's a lot of what informs Kimmuriel's approach to Jarlaxle in the second half of the series. Ouch.

[gemini-sensei]

So I had a dream last night and J have to shear it because it's so sweet, I feel like it's like exactly you-

Pregnant!Single Mom!Reader, kinda based off that one post your made with the poly! Hawk and Demetri Pregnant!Single Mom!Reader.

She was at school and hanging out with everyone. She tries to cover it up but everyone can see she's uncomfortable. Secretly she doesn't feel good, her stomach has been killing her, her back even her literal chest hurts, it's not like the normal pain she has been having during the pregnancy. It's just different. But when Sam asks if she's ok at lunch she just brushes it off saying she's fine.

But Hawk and Demetri both take note, knowing somethings up. They don't say anything

It's not until later that night that both of them get texts from her. It's like 11 at night. She's freaking out because she's really hurting now. They end up on a group video chat, and both boys are trying to calm her down. Next thing you know her water breaks mid call. She's freaking out because she wasn't so for another week.

Both boys try to be as calm as possible because now she's crying. Demetri ends up telling her to change while she can and Hawk says he will come pick them both up and take her to the hospital. Because Reader is completely alone and doesn't want to call an ambulance.

Hawk and Demetri help her get her stuff and walk her to Hawk’s car. Demetri holds her hand through the contractions as they drive to the hospital.

They end up staying with her the whole time though out the night at the hospital.

They even sit in for the birth and help her. When the baby is actually born, the doctor asks if one of them wants to cut the cord. Reader is exhausted as she holds the crying newborn to her chest but encourages them, Hawk ends up cutting the cord.

The next day is a school day and everyone is questioning why the three aren't at school. No one has been able to get ahold of them either, no texts or calls.

Then everyone is added to a group chat and their like “what??” and Hawk is like “Sorry about not texting everyone, we kinda had something more important to do🤫” and he just sends a pic of him, Reader and Demetri squished into the hospital bed, Reader holding the baby in a little blanket.

(I don't know I just love this is much!!🥹🥹🥹)

Sensei-Venus💕✨

@sensei-venus 🥺🥺🥺💖💖 oh my gosh this. I love this. (Thisbgot super long 😅)

Just imagining Hawk and Demetri being in the room, they're a little unprepared for it. Yeah, everything leading up to that point pretty much had to do with Reader being pregnant. Everyone knew that eventually she was going to have the baby, but actually being there and knowing that this is actually happening now is so much different. It's the realization of "holy shit, it's real now."

A nurse takes the boys aside and tells them that they've done good so far, getting her there and keeping her calm. Now if they're looking to stay with her through the whole ordeal, they have to keep that composure and be her rock. It's happening and they're there, there's no way in their minds they're bit going to be there. So she gives them some pointers and tells them they aren't the first young men to come into a delivery room and not know what they're doing, but they're certainly two of the most well behaved 😂😅

So they take care of Reader while they're waiting for things to get going. They're giving her water and keeping her cooled down, holding her hand as the contractions get closer and closer. Then before they know it, it's go time and they're each on either side of her, holding her hands. Hawk is so encouraging to her while Demetri is supportive, telling her she can do it and that she's doing great. Demetri has a rag and is wiping her forehead ever so often.

And next thing they know, there's a crying baby on Reader's chest wailing and wriggling around. After she encourages him to do it, Hawk cuts the cord and he's never felt so honored to do anything in his whole life. The only thing that outweighs that feeling is the pride he feels for Reader after watching her go through all the pain and labors of bringing new life into the world.

Demetei is crying but he's trying desperately to suck it up. Seeing the newborn makes him so emotional and he is for once speechless. He's just happy Reader wanted him there and to be apart of the whole thing.

As for all their friends, no one knows what the hell happened. They're texting, calling, fretting over where their friends. The only one not freaking out is Tory because she kind of figures it out before everyone else. She just thinks about it practically and figures Reader had the baby. To her, it's the only logical conclusion unless the three somehow ended up coincidentally crash landing on Mars or something less outlandish.

Everyone else is shocked when they get the text from Hawk and until the picture comes through, they're all very confused. As soon as they see it, though, the girls are all like "omg!" and Miguel is just like "dude thatsbso cool."

Tory is the first person to say congratulations because that's what you say when someone has a baby.

Was literally something like this:

Sam: omg u guys 🥺

Yasmine: 💖💖💖

Miguel: bro that's cool af

Moon: awwww

Robby: *radio silence b/c dude doesn't know what to say*

Also Robby: 👍

Tory: congratulations

Hawk is literally the only one in communication with the rest of their friends because Reader is tired as fuck and Demetri watching over her and the baby as they sleep. He takes secret pictures of them and saturates the group chat with them. A picture of the little card with the baby's weight and length is sent in and Robby literally asks "what does all that really mean?" And gets bombarded by Sam and Moon explaining why it's so important and sentimental; Robby low-key regrets asking, but is happy for Reader and her boyfriends nonetheless.

Yasmine asks if it's a boy or girl and gets everyone excited. Hawk literally messes with them by not texting g back for hours and actually falls asleep before he remembers to tell them anything. Demetri ends up texting them the answer; a girl.

(Sorry for usually/mostly going with baby girls, lol. I have a brother 6 years younger than me and so having him around has always made me want a girl lol. Also, I'm terrible with coming up with boy's/masculine names lol)

Yasmine and Miguel go bonkers in the group chat over the little girl and Sam laughs out loud about it. Her parents think she's lost it because she's so loud and think it can't possibly be that funny, but watching Miguel nose dive into losing his shit over the baby being a girl via text is hilarious to her. Miguel starts asking when they can meet the little one and Demetri just goes "idk 🤷‍♂️" then dips.

He's tired af but literally makes himself stay awake because what if the baby wakes up and needs him? Or needs her mama? Or a doctor comes in and has questions? Literally appoints himself this position and isn't relieved of it until baby girl wakes up crying needing to be fed. Everyone wakes up at that and Demetri gets the baby while Hawk helps Reader with her hospital gown in order to feed the sweet little angel. Once the baby latches and is sucking on Reader's tit, Hawk takes one look at Demetri and goes,

"You look like shit. When's the last time you slept?"

Demetri Sarcastically looks at the non existent watch on his wrist and says, "Oh I don't know, some 18 hours ago."

Hawk makes him lay down on the uncomfortable, completely not long enough for his long ass legs couch and makes him go to sleep. He's out like a light in a matter of minutes and Hawk kisses his head, covers him up with a blanket the hospital gave them, and then goes to sit with Reader. They just quietly watch baby girl as she suckles hungrily, sometimes jokingly whispering that she doesn't have to go so fast.

It's just so sweet the time they get to spend there, away from thebrest of the world as they take in this new alteration to their lives. Hawk and Demetri look at Reader and her baby girl and think about how much they would give for the two of them. As far as they are concerned, that baby is there's. They were here when she was born and they're gonna be there for her and Reader no matter what.

[lifespectator]

Family Halloween

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Summary: A Halloween special I did. I hope you guys enjoy it!

A/N: Thanks to my awesome friend @ironboybooks for giving me this idea. Make sure to check out 'ironboybooks' on Wattpad. He's a great writer and some of the best x Male Reader books.

-

3rd POV

After a long mission, Y/n finally arrived at the front of his home. It was the same ordeal. Some terrorist group tried to get hold of powerful weapons and The Avengers had to be there to stop them.

He had to admit Sam, as team leader, made the missions quite enjoyable.

Y/n started walking to the front door of his home while on the phone with Sam.

"Another successful mission, Cap" Y/n said, making his friend laugh. "I'm still not used to that name." Sam responded.

"You should. You earned it." It was true. If anyone deserved Steve's mantle, it was Sam.

"I'll try, brother. In the meantime, Uncle Sam has to take his two zombie nephews out for candy before they eat him." Both men laughed as they said their farewells. Y/n hasn't entirely connected the dots of what is special about today's date.

Once Y/n opened the door. He made sure to be as silent as possible. He didn't want to wake up his wife and kids. That was until he heard some noises in the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to him, Wanda was helping their sons, Tommy and Billy, with their costumes. Wanda was going to take them trick or treating.

As Y/n entered the kitchen, both kids got out of Wanda's grasp and ran up to him.

"I'm glad you're back!" Billy said. Y/n just laughed and hugged them both tightly. "Is their no kiss for your wife?" Wanda asked in fake sad tone while pouting.

Y/n just chuckled as he made his way to Wanda. "I was saving the best one for you." He leaned down and gave her a tenderly kiss. "I missed you." Wanda said.

"I also missed you." Y/n said as he noticed how his Wife was dressed. "What's the special ocassion?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Mom is going to take us out for candy! Tommy exclaimed. Y/n was still confused. "Today is Halloween, silly." Wanda said.

Y/n finally understood why Sam mentioned zombies and why the boys wore costumes at night. He had completely forgot today was the 31st.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Y/n eyed up Wanda. "I'm a vampire!" Wanda responded while doing a quick spin. 'A hot one.' Y/n thought.pp

"You should come with us dad." Billy said. "Yeah, that would be cool." Tommy supported the idea.

"I'd love to, but what would I wear?" Y/n asked. After taking off the combat suit he wore on the field, he just put on some jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't worry baby." Wanda continued. "I can fix that."

-

"Where did you get this cape?" Y/n asked. Wanda only smiled. "I bought it this morning while you were away. I wanted all us to have matching costumes." Wanda answered his question.

"I had lost hope that you would make it on time." Wanda said. Y/n only sighed. He's been thinking for some time now of leaving the team to focus full-time om his family.

Wanda put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. It was her way of telling him to take his time before making a decision

"Mom, dad. Can Tommy and I go to the other houses?" Billly asked. "Yeah, you're taking forever." Tommy said.

Y/n only laughed. "Sure, just don't go too far." Wanda said. Y/n felt his heart warm seeing how a great mother Wanda is. He also get's to call her 'mommy'.

"Well, at least we have some alone time." Y/n told Wanda to which she giggled. "We can have some when we arrive home." Wanda responded with a wink.

"How was the mission?" Wanda asked. "It was ok. A granade exploded right before me, but I'm fine." Wanda got worried and eyed up Y/n to find any visible wounds. "I'm joking." Y/n said, and Wanda smacked his arm. "Ow." Y/n playfully whined. "Don't scare me like that." Y/n just giggled.

"Is this going to be your new look?" Y/n pointed out Wanda's short white hair. "No, only for today." She responded. "Is it a wig?" Y/n got confused when Wanda shook her head. "Magic Remember?"

"Magic or no magic, you're still special to me." Y/n said as he carresed Wanda's cheek.

"Hey love birds." A unknown voice said. Y/n and Wanda quickly looked to where the voice came from. "Let's make this quick. Hand me over whatever you guys have on you." The guy pulled out a knife.

Y/n quickly got into a fighting stance, analyzing the best way to take the guy down. Before he can do anything, the guy just fainted.

When Y/n tried to figure out what just had happened, he looked to his left to see his wife smirking and the noticible chaos magic on her right hand. A smirk also plastered across his face.

"What would I do without you?" Y/n asked. "Their are many answer to that question but I'm the one who is supposed to get you tired tonight." Wanda said biting her lip at the end.

"Let's go get the boys. It's late already." Y/n said, pulling Wanda's hand.

-

The family had finally made it back home. The kids had collected a lot of candy which they were eager to eat.

"Today was fun!" Tommy exclaimed, jumping up and down. "I'm really glad that we went as a family." Billy said.

Y/n watched the whole scene and was happy. He was planning to find a way to spend more time with his family.

"Alright, boys, go clean up and change into your pajamas." Wanda informed. "Oh, and no candy until tomorrow." Wanda said as the kid's booed and turned to their father to see if he would intervene. "You heard the queen." Was all he said as the boys went upstairs.

"How long do you plan on having the white hair?" Y/n asked. "I can't take it off now if you like." Wanda responded as she lifted her hand.

"Don't." Y/n said. "Maybe we can, um, roleplay?" Y/n suggested shyly, making Wanda laugh.

"Have it your way Mr. L/n." Wanda said in a seductive tone.

"Let's take it to our room Mrs. L/n." Y/n picked up his wife bridal style and started walking upstairs to their bedroom.

The boys already enjoyed halloween. Now it's their time to enjoy it.

[handoverthekawaii]

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 26

Taglist: @theaudacitytowrite @hom3landr

Bang! The sound of the gavel reverberates around the courtroom and, despite the judge’s admonitions before the ruling, the room erupts into raucous cheers and applause.

You can hardly believe it — following a marathon fifteen hours of negotiation, Vought International agreed to a settlement releasing John from his so-called “lifetime contract.” Not only that, but the company is letting John walk away with a lifetime’s worth of earnings, from cash to stocks to real estate and everything in between.

There were some concessions, of course — the agreement will be voided if you or John ever file a police report or leak to the press about your unlawful detention at the company’s New England black site. And America’s hero won’t be allowed to keep his apartment in Vought Tower either, although that is no major loss with everything that has happened. (“They’d probably try to kill me in my sleep if I stayed there again,” John had joked with you this morning as the team reviewed the agreement one more time.)

And then there were the compromises, like John walking out with the Homelander moniker and his signature caped uniform while Vought maintains the rights to merchandising. Vought successfully argued that the suit is company property so, if and when John retires it, his uniform will be returned to the company for installation in the Superhero Hall of Fame.

Right now, though, John has no plans to retire the suit — in fact, as he confided in you last night in bed, he has no plans for anything whatsoever. He’s been fixated on the lawsuit for months, and now that the end is in sight, he has no idea what will happen next.

“That’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?” you had said, snuggling up closer to his body and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re getting a fresh start.”

You were right, as you so often are, John had thought to himself with a smile. He felt like he was starting life over again, but this time no doctor or Vought executive will be directing his steps. For the first time, he’ll be creating his own destiny.

And, also for the first time, he won’t be building his life alone — he’ll be building it with somebody else.

The light of his life. The divine made flesh, first among women in John’s heart, mind, and soul.

You.

John grips your hand tightly as the two of you walk through the courthouse doors, flanked by Auntie Em on one side and Alvarez on the other. Summer sunlight streams down onto the courthouse steps where a media scrum awaits. Vought’s legal team is nowhere to be seen — they probably snuck out the back, unwilling or unable to face the consequences of their employer’s dastardly actions.

The cameras immediately start flashing, each photographer jockeying to get the perfect shot of John walking alongside you. He isn’t wearing his Homelander uniform today — no, instead the (former!) captain of The Seven is dressed in a royal blue suit with a white dress shirt, with red tie and matching kerchief peeking out of his front pocket. The ensemble is completed by a small American flag lapel pin, a silent thanks to his Supe teammates and other supporters throughout this ordeal.

Alvarez steps up to the array of TV microphones first to address the assembled media. John gives a prepared statement next, and then the group responds to a few questions lobbed by journalists in the crowd:

“Are you retiring from fighting crime, Homelander?”

“Not in the slightest!” John answers, his expression serious. “I took an oath to protect and defend the United States against all threats, foreign and domestic — nothing will come between me and that promise.”

“Will you continue working with The Six?”

The what? you think to yourself. It takes you a moment to remember — just this morning, Vought announced that The Seven is being rebranded as The Six with Homelander’s departure.

“Well, not officially,” responds the Supe. “But they are my former teammates, and I consider every one of them a friend… so if they ever need me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

The strangest question comes once the interviews end, after you and John part ways from Auntie Em and her colleagues, promising to meet up with them this evening for a celebratory dinner. As the two of you are walking away from the courthouse, a slight young man wearing tattered clothes steps into your path, his face grim and his eyes boring into John’s.

“Have you done your part?” the man asks. [continued on AO3]

[hiemaldesirae]

Tis Thorn:

After The 2nd extermination and battle with Heaven, the Hotel gets another sinner. Everyone is extremely happy with this (well Alastor couldn't careless, except for how entertaining this sinner could be--and how he could use them to bug his Muse).

However...once VOX catches sight of this sinner...it's over. This sinner is his killer after all, and while Vox did leave a mortal blow on him as well (multiple blows, to be exact--Vox had poisoned his knives, during their fight. But the sinner had still popped Vox's head like a grape, so while Vox's death was quick the new hazbin's was an agonizing's six month long ordeal.)

So the Vees start ignoring the hotel and everyone in it. Angel Dust doesn't get called in--which at first he likes and is happy about. Until he starts running out of money. Which has never happened before with Val--the cash has always flowed, but so has the texts and calls...now, theres nothing.

Vox isn't following Alastor around at all, or paying him any attention either. He's hurt and pissed off. How dare Alastor help redeem his killer? Fuck the radio demon. Fuck the hazbin hotel. But especially Fuck Alastor and everything they ever had together.

OH. oh.... thorn your brain... humongus. ginormous. i endorse this idea 100% im crying screaming throwing up puking at this.genuinely tweaking rn what the hell

thinking... in the case that vox and husk had a familial relationship before he got contracted to alastor, he probably feels even MORE betrayed because now his pseudo father figure is also supporting his killer. fuck can you imagine. the horror that morphs into rage and anger when he realizes just who the new sinner at the hotel is

alastor probably doesnt understand why vox has been avoiding him at first, so he probably tries to send his shadow to go see why at first but when that gets turned away, he turns to angel, who for all intents and purposes is both elated to be left alone by valentino but also completely banned from the whole of the entertainment district for some reason. when they show up to ask why, charlie in tow, theyre informed by voxs quivering assistants that everyone associated with the hazbin hotel has been banned from the premises, before valentino and velvette come bursting through the doors and chases them out. alastor *almost* gets into a fight with them, but velvette manages to snatch him by the lapels and scream at him and call him a heartless bastard- at least, if youre fed up with voxs attention just tell him to fuck off like a normal person, you dont need to fraternize with the man who butchered and murdered him

and suddenly it all clicks with the fact that the new sinner at the hotel's stories, why he said he wouldn't be going with them to the entertainment district-- but then alastor, with his (sometimes annoyingly so) keen nose smells the scent of said sinner in the vees building and knows nearly instinctively that the bastard is headed for *his* vox's office, and without even a second thought he gives chase

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Chapter 41

04rd September 1997

Camilla had vehemently refused to even discuss the completely insane idea of Theodora attending Diana's funeral - first with Charles, then with his Private Secretary, and eventually with the Queen’s Private Secretary. Under no circumstances was she going to allow her poor little daughter to have to go through that awful ordeal - no matter how much her brothers apparently wished for their sisters to be by their side. She herself attending the funeral was of course out of the question, Charles and the boys would have to walk behind the coffin - so who would even look after Thea? She was only 10 years old, she could hardly attend such an event on her own, especially not given how public it was all going to be - not to speak of the controversy her attendance would undoubtedly cause. No, that was not going to happen.

"Maybe Granny can take care of her…", Charles, once more, suggested but Camilla was relentless. "No, darling. I'm sorry for the boys but I can't do that to her. I get that they'd want her by their side and that means a great deal but we can't allow that. It would be too traumatising for her." "But it wouldn't be her first funeral. She did attend your mother's!" "But that wasn't a fucking State Funeral!", Camilla replied. She couldn't believe that they were even discussing this. "This isn't a State Funeral either.", Charles pointed out and Camilla rolled her eyes. "It's a State Funeral in all but name. And it's… darling, please! Do you have any idea what the press will say if the literal product of your affair shows up at the funeral of your ex-wife??? They'll rip it into pieces, they'll rip HER into pieces, and I'm not going to allow that! The answer is and always will be no!" With that, she hung up the phone, sunk down on her bed and started crying. 

She couldn’t count all the tears she had been crying since the dreadful day that had changed everything anymore, not even for her own sake, but for Charles, William and Harry, and of course also for Thea who so longed to be there for her brothers which of course was incredibly sweet and touching but the mere imagination of her daughter at that funeral, without her, surrounded by that family and millions of people watching live all over the world almost caused her a heart attack. Thea herself had expressed her wish to support her brothers several times but Camilla was too afraid to even consider any of the suggestions that had been made so far. “We will light a candle and say a prayer and then watch it together on television.”, she had promised her, but Thea hadn’t been convinced. “I want to be with my brothers!”, she had declared over and over again and a part of her understood that. For nothing in this world would she have let Annabel and Mark alone at their mother’s funeral, but apart from the fact that they had all been adults at the time of Rosalind’s death, they had all been her children. In this case , however, it wasn’t only about Thea not being Diana’s daughter but actually being Camilla’s, the one person that was once more being blamed for the breakdown of Charles and Diana’s marriage, Diana’s misery and heartbreak and eventually, even her death. The atmosphere in the country was hugely emotional and the hatred she was facing had dramatically increased again; she had stopped looking at the newspapers and was very glad that a very kind neighbour was doing the shopping for her at the moment as she hardly dared leaving the house. It was all hard enough for Thea already, how could anyone in their right might even consider exposing her to the public like that? 

The phone rang and Camilla expected it to be Charles again, of course he wasn’t accepting her to end the call the way she just had and, actually, she wasn’t either. Especially following Diana’s accident they both made sure to assure the other how much they loved each other even more often, for you never knew what might happen… “Darling, listen I-”, she began, but was then interrupted by a totally unexpected voice: “Camilla? Sarah speaking…” “Sarah?” It was indeed Sarah, daughter of her good friend Susan, and, coincidentally, ex-wife of Charles’ brother Andrew, The Duke of York. “I’m sorry to be bothering you…”, Sarah started to excuse herself, but Camilla rushed to ensure that she was not bothering her at all. “That’s a lovely surprise. How, um… how are you doing?” She hadn’t even finished her question when she already regretted it: How was she supposed to be doing? She and Diana had been close. She had to be heartbroken. “Sarah, listen, I’m so sorry for… everything. I know you were close…” “We were…”, Sarah answered with a teary voice. “Thank you. But I reckon it’s not easy for you either, is it?” Camilla sighed. “That is so kind of you to ask.”, she said. “No, it’s… it’s been a very sad week for us, too.” “I can imagine. How is Thea? Bea told me that William and Harry told her about…” She didn’t have to go on, Camilla knew what she was talking about immediately and wasn’t sure whether she’d feel ashamed because so many people knew already, or maybe even relieved because she was aware that Sarah wasn’t in the easiest position either following the York’s divorce last year so in some ways the two of them were pretty much fellow sufferers and could possibly support each other. “Thanks for asking. She is… alright, I’d say.”, Camilla replied. “As best as possible under the given circumstances. She so wants to be there for her brothers and, apparently, William and Harry want her to be by their side on Saturday but…” Her voice broke and she couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. It was so sad. These poor children shouldn't have to be suffering from their parents’ mistakes the way they were. A sister should be able to be there for her grieving brothers if she wanted to, especially if that was the brothers’ wish as well. It was not fair. “I don’t know whether anyone has told you, Camilla, but I’m going with the girls. I’d be happy to take Thea, too. She could sit with us, with her cousins. I’d take care of her, I promise you.” For a few seconds, Camilla was speechless and didn’t know what to say. No, she had not known that Sarah was going to attend the funeral but her offer was so generous. Of course, that would be a great solution. Sarah had always been a wonderful mother for Beatrice and Eugenie and would surely take good care of Thea on the day as well. Thea and Bea were close in age, almost exactly one year apart and, of course, cousins. They knew each other from Balmoral and got along exceptionally well. “Oh Sarah, that… is so kind of you, I… I don’t know what to say.”, she stuttered, still with a teary voice. “It’s nothing, Camilla, really.”, Sarah said. “Ask her and let me know how you both will decide so we can arrange everything.” “I will. Thank you, Sarah.”

[natasha-in-space]

could you do the same thing you did with jihyun and therapy, but with jumin please? 🫶

For his entire life, Jumin's emotions were being either completely misinterpreted, outward ignored all together, or, in the worst cases, he was made fun off and put down for openly expressing what he feels by the people closest to him. Unfortunately, it's not uncommon for his social circle to view him as an 'emotionless robot', thus making all of those rare instances when he does decide to talk about his feelings end quite poorly for him more often than he'd like to admit. It's no wonder that Jumin eventually started to believe that his emotions can bring nothing useful to the table. It's what he's been told practically his entire life, even by those he considers his family. Which is actually so incredibly sad when you think about it.

The only exceptions to that are Jihyun and Rika. Jihyun, who's been by his side as long as he can remember, and who he can trust wholeheartedly. Jihyun knows Jumin better than anyone else, and when he's next to him... he doesn't feel the need to hide what he feels. Moreover, his old friend oftentimes takes notice of things even Jumin himself chooses to simply brush off without a second thought. I'd imagine, it would be Jihyun who would first suggest for his friend to try out therapy for himself, specifically during the time when Rika started to show great improvements in her own treatment. Sadly, that peaceful period of time was painfully short-lived.

Rika, on the other hand, is someone who intrigues Jumin and makes him feel things he never knew he could feel. She reads him so easily that it's borderline scary. It's like she has all the keys to his heart, even those he himself hadn't found yet. But, he never let his mind get too greedy with these sorts of thoughts. Rika is his precious friend, and she's perfectly happy with Jihyun by her side. He can only watch them from afar with a bittersweet smile making its way onto his face as he sips from his glass of wine. Rika is the first person who makes him start to wonder about the long strings keeping his heart locked shut. But, unfortunately, neither he nor Rika had enough time on their hands to solve this puzzle before tragedy struck.

And then, you came into his life, so abruptly and boldly, it took his breath away. You, who treated him with such kindness and understanding from the start, always making sure to come to his defense in the chatroom and asking him to share more about his inner world with you. You laughed at his jokes, complimented his precious Elizabeth the 3rd and wished him good luck on his work with such pure sincerity, that it made him feel confused at first. He's been alone for so long... and ever since Rika has passed away, even Jihyun started to slowly but surely drift apart from him, no matter how hard he tried to support his best friend however he could.

He thought he was fine the way he is, but... when Jumin starts to miss hearing your voice asking whether he ate or not, or you excitedly asking him about his day at work in the chatroom, he slowly comes to the realization of just how incredibly lonely he really is. And with the added stress of a deep feeling of betrayal that comes with his father trying to force an unwanted marriage onto him without any regard for his emotional well-being, all of these perplexing feelings cause him to act out in ways he's definitely not proudest of. Still, you never pushed him away, never brushed his concerns away. Instead, you listened to his troubles and comforted him with a warm touch he never knew he longed for.

And once the whole ordeal with his father has long passed, it was your relentless support that motivated him to seek out therapy for himself at last. You opened his eyes on just how important his emotions really are, and how he should learn to treat them with kindness and respect, rather than trying to distract himself from feeling anything at all.

Jumin is a very responsible person, and he treats his therapy sessions just as seriously as any other tasks he may have at hand. No matter how hard it can get for him at times, he'll never feel like he wants to give up. He may need to take a break sometimes, of which you make sure to remind him whenever you feel the need to do so, but he'll always take another step forward soon after.

It gets especially difficult when he needs to face the trauma he endured as a child. Especially the harm his mother caused. It's something he tries desperately to ignore and push aside, treating it as nothing that important. Having to face those hurtful feelings again... it is incredibly exhausting and complicated to deal with. It makes him want to go back to his younger self and embrace him, telling him that there's nothing wrong in him, and that he didn't deserve to be treated the way he was.

It's unfair and leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Therapy is a process, and Jumin tries his hardest to not put too much pressure onto himself. Having you by his side definitely helps him a whole lot, regardless whether he's having a good day or a bad one.

With you, he knows that he's safe and loved. With you, he can be himself. With you, he can breathe freely.

You're his home.