#or maybe he isn't lapsed

[wellpresseddaisy]

Saints for whom Snape has a particular fondness:

St. Joseph - the father who loved his child as his own despite the whole Son of God thing. I always thought Snape would take comfort there.

Mary - I don't think I know a Catholic who doesn't have any kind of personal connection to Mary. She's comfort and understanding and an intercessor in troubled times. Huh...I may have had enough vodka tonight to make a parallel between Eileen and Mary in re: their function in the Church and in Severus' life.

St. Joshua - the patron saint of spies and intelligence workers. I like to think Dumbledore (despite being raised in a hand-wavey Anglican sort of household) had a St. Joshua medal commissioned for Snape at some point.

St. Michael the Archangel -

O Michael of the Angels and the righteous in heaven, Shield thou my soul  With the shade of thy sword. Shield thou my soul  On earth and in heaven.

From foes upon earth, From foes beneath earth, From foes in concealment, Protect and encircle  My soul 'neath thy wing,   O my soul with the shade of thy wing. (I can see this being a bit of a ritual for Snape before heading into a DE meeting)

St. Jude Thaddeus - patron saint of desperate situations and lost causes. I feel like that one is a bit of a no-brainer

Now, though, I've made myself sad thinking of canon Snape dying with no one there to administer Last Rites.

Good thing there's fanfic!

[zemnarihah]

i've been having. gender issues i must say

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[harmonysanreads]

Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33

Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3

(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)

Inure

yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio

cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)

wc : 1k

hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>

Inconveniences come in many forms.

Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.

Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.

A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.

In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.

You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.

At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.

Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.

You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.

You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.

That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.

By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.

Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.

They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!

being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol

[grandlinedreams]

Hi hello unplanned acotar drabble bc I'm exhausted 'n why not use the 'can't sleep' trope? I don't remember if coffee is a thing in acotar but it is now

warnings: uhh poor sleeping habits, tiny touch of angst, reader is Made fae/archeron sibling, fluff

You haven't been sleeping well.

Correction ㅡ you're not sure if you've ever slept well in your life, but you've been sleeping worse as of late.

As in not at all.

Not for lack of trying, quiet plea to Madja for a tonic or tips to help you sleep ㅡ all to no avail. And so you spend most nights wide awake, listening to the soft creak of the other inhabitants and staring up at the ceiling.

It isn't your favorite way to spend so much time given that there's only so much you can think of before you're sinking back into thoughts you've tried so hard to let go of. They cling to you like a second skin, seep and chill your bones like black, brackish water, like ㅡ

You quickly find other ways to occupy your time. Velaris' night sky is beautiful, patchwork blanket of deep blue with silver pinprick stars that you count, try to match constellations with ones you know, catalogued in worn paper from another lifetime. (That often spirals too.)

Perhaps the Cauldron feels bad for what has been done to you, or perhaps it's simply the house taking pity on you ㅡ but as of late when you drag yourself from your room and downstairs, there is a mug of warmth waiting for you.

Steam always curls from the top of it, dark liquid that eddies with just enough cream and sugar to make it pleasant. It chases away the sticky darkness of your thoughts, replaces it with a warmth that spirals from the inside out ㅡ a comfort, when so many things as of late have not been.

With that unspoken charm of warm ceramic at your fingers, you're more content to whittle the hours away in silence. You pretend that you've just woken up when someone else stirs ㅡ often times it's Nesta, who watches you for so long that you wonder if she knows. (She doesn't ask, and you don't tell. Maybe she doesn't have to, the other side of your coin.)

Tonight, however, is different.

Tonight you find yourself with an entirely different sort of company ㅡ in the form of sleek, wisps of shadow ㅡ alive, whirling gently against your cheek, your hair, your hands. And then they're gone, back to their master ㅡ who appears shortly after.

Azriel doesn't announce his presence, but he doesn't have to. You've gotten used to the fact that you can hear him now, can hear most everything ㅡ aware of more than you ever used to be.

All you do is allow the slide of your eyes over his face, his wings, his hands ㅡ and then away. "Good morning."

A flicker of amusement in the gleam of his eyes, the soft huff of air. "It's two in the morning."

You remain steadfast. "Still morning."

He doesn't push further as he approaches, and you can feel his eyes on you ㅡ the clothing you're still getting used to, a subtle opulence that still makes you feel untethered at times ㅡ and the mug nestled between your hands.

"Can't sleep?"

It's an innocent question, a gentle probe at where you are in terms of emotion ㅡ eggshell floor that tends to be how everyone walks around you, Nesta, and Elain as of late.

You shrug. "Something like that." You lapse into silence, and it's Azriel is turning to leave (presumably) that you speak. "I have...strange dreams. And if it isn't that, it's nightmares. So I figure thisㅡ" You gesture, "is better than either of those."

Azriel is silent long enough that you're beginning to feel stupid for saying anything ㅡ and then he says quietly, "May I show you something?"

The something ends up being the offer of taking you for a flight ㅡ only after Azriel has made sure that you're appropriately bundled before he lifts you into his arms. His scent that makes you think of pine and hoarfrost is almost overwhelming ㅡ but his wings are snapping out before you can change your mind, and then you're airborne.

This is so much different than what Feyre had called winnowing ㅡ wind whips at your face and hair, tangling it as you tuck yourself tighter against Azriel's chest. His grip is firm on you, not so much as to hurt or be inappropriate, but enough that you don't feel as though he's going to drop you.

The stars gleam above you, enticing you to look up at them ㅡ and with your face tucked so close to his neck, Azriel doesn't struggle to hear you when you speak.

"I managed to save some of the star charts in my father's office when we..." You trail off for a moment, uncertain of what all he knows from Feyre ㅡ and you point at the glittering cosmos above. "It looks the same."

"Is that a bad thing?"

You press your face against his shoulder, inhaling his pine scent. "No."

Azriel is quiet as he spares a glance at you. You're so very different than your sisters ㅡ not quite as wild as Feyre, nor as angry as Nesta, nor as quiet as Elain. He wishes he could say he doesn't remember much of watching each of you be tossed into the Cauldron ㅡ but he does, everything whispered to him by his shadows.

That you'd come out of it glowing ㅡ briefly, just enough to give the impression of a star, just like the ones above.

"Azriel?" Your call makes him look down, the flick of his eyes over the delicate arch of your ears, the reflection of starlight in your eyes that makes the beat of his wings falter for a brief second. "Will this get easier?"

He doesn't have to ask you what you mean. He could lie to you, placate you with empty words ㅡ but he can't bring himself to do that. So he tightens his grip just a little, tucks you a little firmer to him. "I hope so."

[strawberrymochin]

Weakling ♪

╰┈➤ ❝ use your pretty mouth ❞

Genre- smut

Synopsis- sukuna fucks you among the dead corpses of your crew members.

Word count- 2.4k

𐙚 Warnings 𐙚 -: minors do not interact | oral (male receiving) | semi public sex | unprotected sex | creampies | blood | degradation | sukuna calling reader slut | slight use of cursed energy |

Blood splattered on your face as a strike of cursed energy made the head of your last crew member to fall off his body. It rolled over, leaking blood, halting up to you till its infront of your legs, as you stare in horror.

The still headless body of your friend collapsed onto the vast floor, joining the other corpses of innocent humans. And now it's your turn.

You look up to sukuna, to see him grinning at you, wickedly. In one blink, he sprang upto your position, making the same gesture he did to kill the others. You back off dodging his attack. You're the last one alive, and maybe not for much long, your last hope is the help coming for you from the jujutsu high, till then you need to keep him engaged, letting him toy with your life.

"Aww, the mortal got swift moves huh! I'm impressed. Honestly I never thought you weakling would survive this long." He mocks attacking you once again.

"I still impressed you though." You reply, dodging off his punch, which was deprived of any cursed energy. Sukuna threw one, two and three attacks consequently till one of his kicks strike you hard on your stomach, causing you to lapse till your back hit the cold wall of the tunnel.

You cough out blood as sukuna laughs. "So tell me, pretty weakling, how shall I kill you?" He raises your chin up, using his index finger, to make you look into his eyes. "Shall I slash your body parts?" He says, "or shall I take your heart out?"

"Don't you have any better option?" You spit out, not taking your eyes off him. You really shouldn't provoke him, now that he regained most of his power. Time doesn't seem to slip away, and you have no clue how long it will take for the rescue team to show up.

At this point you're not even sure if any help from even any special grade sorcerer would stop him, and you're just a semi grade 1 sorcerer. Practically nothing infront of him. Still your pride forces you to forget your position, deciding to rile him up. If you have to die in sukuna's hands anyway, you would rather die pissing him off.

"You sure have a big mouth.....why not put it to good use?" His index trailed down from your chin to your throat, adding other fingers to grip your throat, strangling you.

"Good u-se...l-ike what? Suck your dick?" You manage to voice out, as your hands try to loosen his grip.

Sukuna stilled for a while, his grip on your throat loosened a bit, for you to fill enough oxygen in your lungs which he drew out.

The thick metallic smell of blood lingered in the air. Even in the dim lighting of the tunnel, sukuna's shadow engulfed your entire body. The king of curses is only a step away killing you, then why isn't he acting upon it? Why is he staring at you like that?

His eyes fixated at you, narrowing a bit as a devious smile crawls his lips. "You impressed me once again," he said, "now get down on your knees and suck it." His hands travelled to your nape, thumb drawing circles behind your ear.

For moments you do nothing but stare at him. Then your knees sinked down, obeying him, without breaking the eye contact. You wanted to keep him engaged, and there seemed to be no other option than this.

Your hands brushed on his clothed groin, almost gaping at the bulge you feel in there. Sukuna grinned wider, at your response, his hands are now gripping your messy braid. You unzip his pants, pulling it down slowly as his huge hard length pops out. As huge as his dick is, it is adorned with two stripes of tattoos just like his entire body.

He's already leaking precum, for a moment you are unsure how to fit such a huge thing in your mouth. Sukuna parted his lips to say something, but stopped midway, sucking in a breath, when you put your fingers around it, and start stroking and massaging his shaft.

You could practically feel his dick grow even more, as his tip swells red with more precum. Your feel his veins throbbing at your touch. A ghost smile spreads through your lips, it would be a total lie to say you weren't aroused at the sight of his huge cock calling for you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as blood buzzed in your ears.

"Use your pretty mouth, weakling," he grunts, "fast." You nodded obediently, kissing the tip lightly, then using your tongue to give it a few licks, tasting his precum. A few moments ago, you were there fighting for your life against him, now you are gladly licking his cock, about to give him a blowjob.

"Mhmmh....." He groaned, shoving his cock, into your mouth lacking patience. "Suck it," he rasped, "put your mouth to good use"

You found yourself in daze, your mind couldn't focus on anything, suddenly you don't remember why you even agreed to do this. But it felt good. Heat coiled up in the lower pit of your stomach as your tongue swirled around his cock, tracing the veins that throbbed in pleasure, as you bob your head up and down trying to take in as much length as you could, finding a rhythm. How would it feel to have this cock filling you up?

One hand of yours played with his balls, while the other holds his thighs for support. You look up, sucking in and out, rolling your tongue over his shaft, not forgetting the tip. Sukuna is looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust, lips parted, breathing heavily, tilting his head back at the sudden sensation of you sucking on the tip, bucking up his hips, causing you to gag. You were about to pull away, but he shoved your head deeper till you reach his full length.

Sukuna, never in his mortal or immortal life experienced this desire, desire to destroy you, corrupt you, fuck your pretty mouth till you beg him for mercy. Your warm mouth wrapped around his cock, made him go nuts. When you kissed his tip, licking it like a popsicle, swirling your tongue around his shaft, he felt like you're sucking his soul.

"Hahh....Aaah....uugh" he grunted, fucking your mouth, as you tear up, drooling, choking on his huge cock. Sukuna increases his pace, drawing out oxygen from you. "Mngh-ph....nmh.." you cried out, sensing his cock twitching in your mouth. His ragged breath and rough thrusts told you he's on the verge of reaching his orgasm.

"Aaghh....hahh...mnph....such a good girl....mhmm, want me to cum in your mouth? Hahh?" He pulled on your braid making you look up into his eyes. You nodded.

You looked so pretty with those messy hairs coming off your braid, tears staining your face dampening the dried blood flakes, lipstick smugged off whose stains linger around his cock. Sukuna's breath hitched at this sight, edging him hard. His cock twitched, as he jolted in pleasure, eyes rolling as he cums in your mouth.

You pull away, swallowing his load as much as you could.

Sukuna bends to your level, face flushed, hint of satisfaction on his it. "So tell me, shall I kill you now?"

You take in a ragged breath before answering him, "do what you please, but fuck me before that." You say, coughing a bit, wiping the mixture of his cum and your drool from dripping down your chin. Even if you're dying today there's ain't no way you're dying horny like that.

One second.

It takes one second for sukuna to grab your wrists and pin them over your head, holding them down with only one of his hand. He looked very much of a predator hunting for his prey, totally hovering over you.

His dark eyes scanned your face and then slowly it travelled down to your neck, then to your collarbone, and then to your chest.

"As you wish" sukuna's velvet voice, rang around your ears, getting you even more drenched as his other hand comes up in the air, pointing at you, making a gesture with his finger.

The cold sensation of cursed energy quivered through your body. For a moment you couldn't understand what happened right now. He used his cursed energy on you but somehow you were still alive.

He draws you out of your thoughts, nibbling on your skin, almost drawing out blood. You wince, as his teeth sink deeper, the taste of your blood drived him crazy,as his hand grope your breasts, kneading them. "Mhmn....sukuna" you mewled, he draws his nails over your hardened nipples, playing with them, sending jolts of sensitivity.

Your eyes widened as it striked you. He used cleave to rip off your clothes, which now pooled beside you in pieces. The only piece of fabric still left on your body was your panties.

You arch your back in pleasure, a needy moan escaping your lips, as sukuna takes one of your nipple in his mouth, licking it and then sucking in roughly. He repeats the same actions for the other nipple, freeing your hands as he kicks off his pants which were pooling around his legs, grinding his cock on your lower abdomen regaining it's hardness.

Sukuna trails rough kisses, as your hands wrap around his built body. It's happening. It's finally happening.

You could not decide whether to feel proud or sad. Being fucked by the king of curses, sukuna himself can be considered sort of an achievement right?

"So wet for me huh, you horny weakling" you don't even know when his hand travelled down to your pussy, rubbing your clothed clit, drenching into your juices.

"Nngh...sukuna please! I need it." You beg, looking into his crimson red eyes, squirming with need. "Need what baby? Use your words..."

Sukuna grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. "I need you." You whimper, wanting to feel him inside you. Your nails sink in his arms marking bruises as he brushes his finger over you sensitive nipple again. "Beg in detail baby....wanna know what exactly my mortal slut wants..."

"I want you to fill me up. Fuck me. Destroy my cun—AHHH" before you could finish your sentence, sukuna rips the last piece of fabric from your body, slamming it in without any notice.

"Aaah, f-fuck it baby- ah....so tight...mmnh"

Sukuna lowly grunts in pleasure, as he's sinking himself inside of your gummy walls. Your cunt looked so pretty, streching for his cock, wrapping it around so well. He fitted in you like a puzzle piece made for each other. He felt so warm with you wrapped around him.

It felt heavenly, as his mind fogs into the frantic daze you're luring him in. Unable to resist yourself, you started bucking your hips upwards wanting to feel him. You wanted him close. Even more close.

He started thrusting into you, picking up his pace, steady and rough at the same time. you wrap your legs around his abdomen, allowing him to pound deeper, making your eyes roll in pleasure.

He filled you up so well, even better than you thought. The way he slammed it in, streching you up, sent delicious shivers down your spine. Your mind felt fuzzy and ecstatic as he thrusts hungrily, causing you dripping your sloppy mess on his dick. His cock dived deep in you, hitting spots even you weren't aware of. You could feel his blood rushing through his veins, rubbing inside of your cunt. Pushing in and out.

He fucks you like he's fighting with you. Just like before. Except what you're fighting for is to crawl into eachother's skin. He wanted to kill you before. The taste of your blood on his tongue was intoxicating. It intrigued him even more.

A part of him still wants to kill you, but—

"Mmmnh...ahh...sukuna..."

One of his arms slides down to your waist, while the other rests beside you to support his weight. Sukuna hisses as you clench your gummy walls around him.

"Hmnh...yeah..." His voice came out husky and if you weren't hearing wrong, being all brainfucked at the intensity he pounded you, his voice was half an octave lower than before. He could tell your close by how tightly you clenched around him. Your sweet whimpers sounded euphoric to his ears. The most melodious thing he ever heard.

Desperate, filthy noises echoed through the entire tunnel, as he fucked you mercilessly. You cried out his name as his slides his cock in and out almost too fast with the help of your slick juices mixed along with his precum.

You both were sweating and panting. Fucking eachother like there's no tomorrow. Among the dead bodies of your crew members. However you didn't care. Atleast not now that he's banging you.

"Ahh...hahh...I'm-m close...ahh...cumming" you cry out in pleasure, nails marking his back, tearing up for the second time in a row. "Yeah..hmnh...cum for me. Cum on my cock, baby."

Your body surrendered to fervent bliss, as you feel the build up tension finally releasing, arching your back, curling up your toes. The electric waves of your high jolts through your body like a rollar coaster as you cum on his cock.

You looked at sukuna with your half lidded eyes, as he chased his own climax. And the look on his face was hauntingly beautiful, the one you would never forget. His red eyes never leaving your face as he fucked you, similar red tainting his cheeks, lips parted taking ragged breaths. He bit his lower lip, ramming into you.

You could feel his cock, twitching and throbbing inside you. A muscle on his jaw ticked as he emptied himself into you, with a final rough thrust.

For moments, none of you move, or say anything. Your chests still heaving trying to catch a proper breath. Sukuna was about to pull out, when you raised your hand cupping his face.

His heart skipped a bit as you slowly pull him, arching your neck, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead, then, on his lips.

The kiss was soft, feathery and delicate. Something sukuna never felt before. The way you looked at him, through your half lidded tired eyes; the way his love bites were painted your on body like an art piece on an empty canvas; the way you made him lose his control was something he never experienced.

He eyed you for a brief moment, before pulling his length out, as you wince at the emptiness. However you are too spent to react. His hot liquid leaked out from your pussy, dripping on the floor.

~♡~

The sound of cars arriving, from a bit far turned both of your attention. The help which you called from jujutsu high is here. You turn your head back to look at him when he pressed two fingers on your forehead.

Your mind went blank, as if falling into a deep trance, passing out. Sukuna gets up, scooping up your naked body, as he looks at your face.

A part of him still wants to kill you, but make no mistake. He's certain, he could kill for you.

a/n- this is my first time attempting to write smut. Ignore if there are any mistakes. I'm hella nervous 'bout it. The header is made by me (sukuna one in the last) do not use it without my permission.

© strawberrymochin 2024

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Itadori who’s been influenced by Sukuna to kidnap the reader please ; maybe reader can summon moth curses 🦋 gn or female is fine with me 💗 please and thank u 

Sure! Gonna keep it a general concept idea for this but I hope you like it :)

Yandere! Yuji Itadori/Sukuna Kidnapping Their Obsession

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Dark themes, Violence, Guilt, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji himself wouldn't kidnap unless influenced in some way.

Be that your safety... or Sukuna's teasing whispers.

Sukuna would influence Yuji to 'take what he wants.'

Due to Yuji being a host, Sukuna can tell what he's feeling.

It irritates Sukuna to no end to feel Yuji so obsessed about you yet not doing anything about it.

All Yuji does is look at you with adoration.

He keeps his crush to himself and just lets it fester.

Sukuna can tell Yuji wants to confess, that he wants you two dating.

Sukuna originally just decides to tease him on it.

He looks like a pathetic lovesick puppy when it comes to you.

Yuji follows you everywhere, never has his eyes off you, and just becomes a mess when speaking to you.

Sukuna originally wants to use his feelings against him.

It would be such a shame if Sukuna came out and tore you to shreds, right?

Sukuna likes to rile him up, laughing when Yuji yells at him to cut it out.

Sukuna's like the manifestation of Yuji's impulsive thoughts.

He's always taunting and telling Yuji what to do around you.

It would be very troublesome for you if Sukuna decided that... well... having a second toy isn't a bad idea.

Which leads into Sukuna encouraging Yuji to act.

He can feel how badly the brat loves you, it's starting to affect Sukuna of all people.

Your technique of Curse Summoning isn't half bad, not that strong but... enough.

Sukuna thinks the brat picked well.

So... why doesn't he do them both a favor and hurry it up?

"Brat, aren't you worried someone will take them for themselves?"

Sukuna essentially tries to goad Yuji into taking the bait.

Isn't he scared of losing you?

Seriously, any of these other Sorcerer brats could claim you before he does.

Yuji would ignore Sukuna for as long as he can.

Yuji is aware of how volatile Sukuna is.

The last thing he wants is him losing control of Sukuna and hurting you.

At the same time, however...

Yuji does worry you'll find someone else.

But... he can make that work, right?

He'll be patient... he'll just wait things out so you won't get hurt.

Let's be honest though... Sukuna will wear down Yuji eventually.

Soon there'd be a lapse in judgment, maybe due to Yuji eating more of Sukuna's fingers.

Taking you could go one of two ways.

Yuji snaps and listens to Sukuna's orders.

Sukuna takes over and takes you for Yuji.

Either method acts the same, although the second one is rather... aggressive.

Yuji would feel guilt eat away at him once he has you in a secluded place.

Sukuna's laughing at him, commenting about how weak you look tied to that chair in such a dark room.

Yuji almost can't believe it.

He... he did this, didn't he?

Yuji wants to blame Sukuna, Sukuna did this.

However, Sukuna tells a different story.

"This is your fault, y'know. You let your emotions cloud your mind too often. You're so easy to exploit."

Yuji can't help but believe him.

Yeah... maybe this was his fault.

Maybe you wouldn't have to go through this... if he had a better grip on Sukuna.

This is his fault....

"Don't look so pathetic... enjoy your prize, will you? Or must I do it for you?"

Yuji feels horrible that he snapped... but...

He can't help but wander closer, ignoring Sukuna's nagging and taunting.

Unconscious you look so... peaceful.

It reminds him that he's always wanted to protect such peace.

He always wants you happy and cared for... he wants to be the source of your comfort.

Yuji doesn't stop himself when he tilts your chin up.

The way your eyes flutter open makes his cheeks feel warm.

He almost forgets what he's done until you panic.

Yuji's snapped out of his delusions for just a moment, backing off when you throw questions at him.

However... your words go through one ear and out the other.

Sukuna finds such a change in the brat hilarious.

He's also pleased since now he has a new toy.

Yuji's too caught up in looking at you to comprehend your words.

Then he notices your tears.

Yuji immediately rushes up to you to wipe your tears away.

He's gentle with his touch, almost like he didn't kidnap you.

You stare at him and he stares back, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

"Yuji, what's going on?" He hears you ask, "Please let me go...!"

Yuji pauses, he really should let you go, huh?

He knows he needs to...

But he can't.

"... It's going to be okay."

Yuji's voice is in a whisper, stroking your cheek as your breathing picks up.

"There's nothing to be scared of... I promise."

His voice is soft, like he isn't the problem.

"Let me go..." You try again, only for Yuji to place a finger to your lips.

"I want to..." Yuji continues in a sweet tone as he looks into your eyes.

"But I don't think I can now."

It's then Yuji kisses your lips, pushing away any second thoughts.

He can hear Sukuna laughing in pleasure and feel you struggling... yet right now, he doesn't care.

Right now... he knows you're finally his....

"You're welcome, brat."

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is unrequited!

(936 words.)

"Oh, just fuck right off!" Sirius snaps, grip tightening on his butterbeer.

"God, what's gotten into you?" Marlene asks, arching an eyebrow. To be perfectly honest, Sirius doesn't want to talk about it.

James is more than happy to, though.

"Don't worry about him. He's all pissy because of his unrequited love." Sirius' head immediately snaps up, alarmed.

"Prongs," He says, warning. His eyes almost involuntarily dart to Remus for half a second, panic seeping through him. James, however, is teetering on the line between tipsy and drunk, completely missing the hint.

"Mm, completely hung up on some girl, right?" Peter chimes in, and Sirius almost wants to laugh. The urge to drop dead is much stronger, though. To crawl into a hole and say there until this conversation ends.

"Something like that," Sirius says quickly, before turning away from them both. Fingers crossed, he can just shut this down. "Hey, Lily, that potions essay..."

Unfortunately for him, Lily seems just as invested.

"How do you know it's unrequited?" She asks curiously. Remus lifts his head, then, nose out of his book. For some reason, that's what tips him over the edge. He needs everyone to stop. This is difficult enough.

"Because I asked, okay?" He says hurriedly. It causes his friends to lapse into silence, but it's like he's just burst a dam. The explanation starts before he can hold it back. "I asked, and they said no. They said it was a bad idea, we were too close for that."

"Huh," Mary hums.

"What?" Sirius asks with a frown.

"They didn't say they don't like you?" Mary asks, and it really throws Sirius. He hasn't considered that.

"No, not exactly," He muses, frowning. "But why would anyone reject someone they like?"

"Maybe they were scared of ruining the friendship you two have," Remus speaks up gently, almost inaudibly from across the common room; capturing Sirius' attention in less than a second.

"That makes no sense," Sirius says without missing a beat, eyes locking with Remus. "They should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't let that happen. I know they wouldn't. We've survived worse."

From the corner of his eye, he can see confusion flit across James' face at that comment. Yeah, it was a bit of a risky thing to say. He's practically handing James the truth. It doesn't matter, though. Not right now. His eyes are fixed on Remus.

"Depends on what you think is worse. They might be worried about a messy breakup getting in the way."

"No, that can't be it," He says, imploring. The longing to see into Remus' mind, figure out what he means is too strong. He'll have to unravel it this way instead. "If they're already thinking about a breakup, then clearly they don't like me that much. Unrequited." He wants nothing more than to drop the matter now that he's proven his point to himself. Maybe he doesn't need to see inside Remus' mind. He goes to down the rest of his drink, but Remus is shaking his head, and Sirius is losing sight of everyone else in favour of Remus.

"Or they just care too much about you." There's something in Remus' eyes, an ache that Sirius wants to heal.

"Really? Why would they reject me when I told them how I feel, then?!" Sirius asks desperately. It seems to snap Remus' resolve, burst his ambigious speech.

"Because I'm in love with you, Sirius! Okay?! Christ, this isn't just some- some joke, or some experiment to me! You looked me in the eye and told me you liked me, and that- that made me hope, okay? I don't want to hope. To think that you liking me means you'll fall in love with me. I mean," He releases a breathy laugh, seemingly unaware to the way Sirius' world is turning on it's axis, "I'm me, and you're- you're perfect."

He seems to have reached the end of his tangent, pattering out as everyone looks between the two of them, stunned. Sirius searches his brain, which may or may not be short circuiting, for some way to voice his thoughts. There are so many things he could say, so many ways to tell Remus everything, but none of them seem to be enough. Enough to encompass everything. A better solution comes to him as his yearning overwhelms him.

With that, he sets his butterbeer down and crosses the common room. Remus' eyes widen, suddenly unsure, until Sirius pulls himself into Remus' armchair, facing him. He reaches out, pressing a hand against Remus' cheek and finally, finally connecting their lips. It's everything he could have imagined and more.

Remus' lips are soft, warm against his, overwhelmingly perfect, and making Sirius desperate to stay there forever, mapping out every inch of Remus' mouth, the way it fits against his like they should have been doing this forever. It's a feeling Sirius knows he's never going to forget, causing the words he has been desperately repressing for years bubbling up inside him.

"I love you," Sirius murmurs against Remus' lips after a moment. "I love you so much, Moony."

Their eyes meet again, Sirius watching as Remus' eyes go from searching to joyful, a grin splitting across his face. It took a whooping cheer from James to break the spell that Remus' eyes got him in. They both turn to their friends, a laugh escaping Sirius as he drops his head into Remus' shoulder.

"Thank fuck that's sorted, then!" Lily says brightly, a wry smile on her face.

Okay, Sirius is really grateful for his oversharing friends.

[whosmarii]

Said you needed love.

ᯤ Started: 25/01/24.

ᯤ Finished:

Summary:

Tony loves his wife, Pepper. He loves his last daughter, Morgan. And he loves Peter like the son he never had. But you? his first born daughter, he doesn't even know your name.

tw: daddy issues (everything that this entail), no corrections yet.

*reader is fem. slow burn. Peter x reader. Kinda rivals to lovers.

Prologue.

You are a genius, you got that from him. You study from home, a teacher for each subject meticulousy selected by Tony to give you the best clases of the country. Not because he cares for you, but because you have to reach the expectations of the people. Imagine, the daughter of Tony Stark, aka Iron man, being an ordinary person.

You didn't need all the teachers, you were a genius because it was in your genes. That wasn't enought to meet your father expectations tho.

You did everything in your power to get a proud look (or at least a look) from your dad. You have the best grades, you learned two different languages in a time lapse of two months, you read five books of classic literature in three days, you knew how to play seven different instrument plus you knew how to sing, you were a professional ballet dancer, you knew aeronautical and chemical engineering, and the list could go on and on.

Nothing seems to satisfy him.

Sometimes, because Pepper have told him to or because he couldn't escape the situation, he would mumble a "congrats" or "yeah, good" while he kept working on whatever he was working. Not even looking at your direction.

You loved Morgan, she was probably the only person in your house that actually cared for you. And you were happy she didn't have to live the same horrible situation you did. But you couln't help the self-sabotaging feeling of jealousy that warmed you heart every time they were together. You didn't understand. What does she have that i dont? why can't i be enough like she is?

Pepper loves you, she tells you that recurrently. But she never did anything to get Tony to be a proper dad. It isn't her responsability but, she is your mother. She sees you suffer because of him and does nothing.

You live in a house with two adults and a five year old little girl, and the only person that treats you pretty...is the five year old. Therefore you love to spend time with the Avengers, they fill a space in your hearts that should be fill by your father. Especially Bruce, he is so fatherly loving, it warms your heart and put tears of joy in your eyes.

Having Bruce to care for you is so important that if he asks you to have sexual relationships with him you would say yes just to keep having his love. You would have sex with all the avengers man if that meant them loving you.

When you heard Tony tell Pepper about the arrival of a new Avenger of 15 years, your heart stoped. What if she is better than me? What if they love her more than they love me? what if-

Peter. That's the name your father said. It was a male. That was soothing. You usually didn't like boys of your age, but maybe this one was different.

You already know that Tony loves him. The way he talks about Peter is almost shivery. "Peter is a genius, that boy has a future." "He is a good boy. Sweet and all" And that aunt of his... such a display" "The Avengers are going to love him".

Now the soothing feeling is gone and the fear is back.

He sounded good. That was bad.

You can't hate someone good. But you can't like him neither.

He wasn't presented to the Avengers yet. You didn't know how he looked yet. But the boy was already tearing apart the only part of your life that wasn't crumbling.

@whosmarii | Please do not copy, rewrite or translate my work without asking me and reciving my approval first. Thank you!

[forestshadow-wolf]

"AH DON'T KNOW! Captain." Soap snapped, adding the honorific a moment later like an afterthought. "Jus'- ah'm ignorin' it an' hopein' it goes away." He huffs.

"'Hope' you're gonna 'hope' it goes away. You know it doesn't work that way, right?" Price scrutinized.

"Yeah, well what other choice do I have?"

"You could tell him."

@thejacketscloset @queermentaldisaster have fun :)

Soap scoffed at the mere suggestion. "What? So he can have a laugh? He doesnae do this, Price. And even if he did, it wouldnae be fer me." He crossed his arms petulantly.

They'd been fighting about it for the last fourty-five minutes now. Price apparently doesn't care about the fraternization, only focused on playing matchmaker. Not that he's not glad price isn't kicking him out, but I'd be a hell of a lot simpler.

"He h- He would. For you. Only you."

It's not exactly a secret. The thing that is definitely not a crush that he has for Ghost. But it's not exactly spoken either. And he's about 86.77% sure that Ghost is either unaware of it, or is politely ignoring it for him.

"Oh, yer really wankin' oot yer arse, noo, Cap. He wouldnae." His accent coming out thick with agitation.

"Well, regardless you have to do something, Soap. We both know it. You won't survive 'til next month if something doesn't change."

"Like what?" Soap stressed, Price tried to cut him off, but soap pressed on. "Capt- Captain. C'mon, really, what am I s'ppos'd t' do? Ah cannae exactly ask him tae fuck me, an tell me t' kill mah-self, and even if ah could it wouldnae do nothin' but make it worse."

"If you'd just listen to what I'm saying.." price griped, it sounded like he grumblesmd something else under his breath as well, but soap was too worked up to bother asking.

"Yeah and have me gutted like a fish. And ah'd let him. Price, I'd let him." He was almost pleading, for what? He didn't know. "Then ye'd be down a damn good soldier. And ah'm pretty sure you're no' allowed to keep Ghost around either after tha', legally dead or not."

"He won't gut you." Price chastised him. "Look if you won't tell him, or do something about it, then I won't risk your life on the field either." The man sighed.

"Wha- You're sidelinein' me?!" He sputtered, "ye cannae do that."

"I can, and I will if something doesn't change some time in the next week. And I will be watching." The tone in the captain's voice left no room for argument. "Dismissed."

Soap did NOT sulk down the hallway, back to his room to change into gym clothes, and out to the running track. John Mactavish does not sulk.

He was probably about three and a half laps away from running himself ragged when he felt Gaz jog up beside him.

"Roach says you're getting benched next week."

"Roach needs to learn when to bugger off." Soap huffed. They lapse into patterned breathing for a moment, but Gaz just can't let him wallow, can he?

"Is it because of the Gh-"

"Yes its because of the Ghost thing, okay?" He cuts the brit off, "and its not for sure, just... yeah okay, maybe it's for sure."

"...Price is right though, you could just tell him."

"Jesu- does bugboy tell you everything, or what?" Soap groans, they'd slowed to more of a slow jog now. "You know what- don't answer that. And you know as well as I do that ah cannae."

"I don't, actually." Gaz ignores his little comments. "You haven't seen the way he looks at you. And Roach says he talks about you." He plows on before Soap can get a word in, "the same way you talk to me about him."

"Gaz, he doesnae look at me in any sort of way." He deadpans. He's properly runned out now, they wonder off the track to stretch before hitting the showers.

"Dude- I'm telling you he does!" Gaz knocks their shoulders together with a playful grin.

"An' ah'm tellin' you he doesnae." Soap reciprocates.

"C'mon, man, the whole base sees it. It's like you've hung the moon and stars themselves, to him."

"Yeah, right." Soap laughs, disbelieving. "I'm more of an annoyance, than anything else to him."

"Yeah well, look, when it turns out I'm right I want a full batch of apology cookies, and I get to tell you I told you so."

"Sure, whatever." Soap agrees easily, confident in his own assessment. They part ways at the showers, both having their routines and dities to fulfill.

"Gary says Price is probably benching you at the end of the week, wanna explain that?" Ghost is nonchalantly leaning against the wall across from his door, seemingly waiting for him.

"That little vent dwelling twerp, just cannae keep his mouth shut can he-" soap sighs, unlocking his door, using the action to hide the thick lump he swallowed. "I'm nae getting benched." Probably..... he just needs to figure his shit out.

He pushes off the wall to follow soap into his room. "Is this about you taking all those solo missions? And how you've been doing your best to avoid me for months now?"

Yes- "No. Price is just being a numpty." He says, tossing his keys on the desk. He sits on his bed to unlace his boots.

"And your sure?" Ghost raises an eyebrow at him, he can tell from the way the mask shifts ever so Slightly. He's sitting in his desk chair now, facing him. "'cus uh.. I think Gary would say otherwise."

"Gary is a snitch, an' he doesnae ken how ta keep his mouth shut." He says pulling one boot off, and starting on the other

"He says there's something that the others are trying to convince you to tell me."

Soap grimaces as he pulls off his other boot, setting them neatly at the end of his bed.

"You can tell me, you know that.. right?"

"You dinnae want me to, L.T."

"Yeah? Try me." He deadpanned.

"You willnae like it." He warned, "and it'll change everything."

"I'm all ears."

"Uh.. k then... yeah ah lied, it is about. Yeh it's about tha'. It's nae-" he clears his throat, "it's not anything that you did, ah just... sometimes ah see you out of the corner of my eye.. and suddenly it's all I can pay attention to. An' I forget what ah'm supposed to be doin'. And ah forget every- everything except... an'- an' I've been takin' all the solos because it's the only time I can think, because every other time it's all just... I cannae seem to get myself to think about what ah need to." Once the words start, he can't seem to get them to stop, they just keep spilling out of his mouth. And Ghost doesn't stop him, just silently listening to him. And he really wishes he'd stop him, but he doesn't, and so he just keeps spewin' utter shite until his mouth runs out of steam.

Ghost doesn't say anything for a long while. Just looking at him, and he can't tell what he's thinking with the mask covering his face.

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"You're. Wrong." He says it slowly, like soap's some kind of idiot, and maybe he is. "This doesn't change anything.. and I do like it. I like it a lot."

Soap's brain short-circuits.

"I- huh?" Is his oh-so intelligent response.

"I'm telling you I feel the same."

"Oh." He says as his brain reboots. "... Roach is a snitch."

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"Ah shite."

"What?" Ghost sit forword in the chair.

"They'll never let this go now. Ah doubt shite- I owe Gaz a batch of cookies too."

Ghost only laughs at that.

[dhampling]

I've had this idea in my head ever since I first played as a Dragonborn or Tiefling in BG3, and I have no idea why it isn't discussed more. But what if a Tiefling! (Or Dragonborn, whichever you prefer) Tav shows affection by coiling their tail around their s/o? Like they're close by and are just overwhlemed with love and adoration, and their tail just kinda wraps around their lovers leg? Or wrist or anywhere they can reach! Like Tav is hugging Astarion and then without really realizing it, their tail coils around him as well? Idk, I just think the concept is super sweet/cute. I would love to see this as a small story, or even just head cannons if you want to explore the idea as well. No pressure, obviously, ignore it if you wish to ❤️ hope you're doing well!

a tail of... insert pun here! tavs with TAILS. tails with tav. tav tails with dal.

hello sweetling! can i start by saying that i loved this - genuinely, absolutely loved this. i started by writing HCs and got a bit carried away, so i hope you enjoy the little bit of both here! thank you for giving me something different - this is absolutely not something i'd have thought of and i had SO MUCH FUN. a/n: species isn't mentioned, and I've tried to keep it as generic as possible so it could be applicable for tiefs or dragonborn tavs!

headcanons;

As far back as you can recall you’ve been particularly expressive

It’s not something that you’ve ever seen as an issue, beyond the occasional mishap you can laugh over with any tail-whipped parties later

Frantic little licks of excitement when playing with your peers as a youngling come to mind as an immediate example

Running amok and jumping with the widest of smiles as your tail oscillates behind you

Your family chiding you playfully whilst rubbing their stinging ankles after a particularly jovial day in your presence

Your parents holding you whilst you were still small enough to be held

Your tail bony and light, and yet tightly winding around their forearms as you rested on their torso like a twisting vine

A sign of comfort, safety

A sign that hasn’t lost any significance as you’ve aged

Many a time you’ve run into an old friend and accidentally lashed them in sheer glee, loosely wrapping your tail to whichever limb you can to keep them close as you agree to wander the local bustling market together

And so when you begin to bond with your fellow escapists as you search for a cure for your unfortunate parasite problem, it’s inevitable

It doesn’t even cross your mind

Not until the day where everything just went right 

For the first time since your abduction you’ve emerged your battles all victorious, casualties kept to a minimum, and with enough variety in supplies to have a proper meal 

Spirits are high, wine is flowing; and your party has a real energy of optimism

Your tail flitters back and forth like a moth to a flame as your take to your feet and search for the one who has captured your attention

fool's errand;

It takes Astarion a little aback when the wine steers you towards him.

A few weeks in each others’ presence, sure. A night or two; possibly three, maybe even four at this point, of mutual enjoyment under the stars. Frequent back and forth exchanges while on the road, bantering like old friends. You give him your neck, he offers you moral support.

But on a night where the joy is positively spilling from every cup in camp, you step to him?

He’s unsure whether to be flattered or cautious.

If you’re to end your arrangement, surely tonight - where the conversation is so effusive, so effortless across your party - would be the optimal time to do so. Laugh it away as a lapse in judgement between ‘old friends’, as you often joke, and drift from him to a more viable prospect as the coming days pass. Leave him as the least amicable in camp once more. He’d understand.

Not that he’d like it.

But he’d understand.

Or, he’d try to. He might be a little upset if Lae’zel wins Lady Congeniality over him, but it’s not the end of the world.

He’d have to hope the group still would still want to keep him around of course. Be a little nicer to Gale. Offer to help Karlach carry your packs between camps. 

What is he offering you if not his nimble fingers? Maybe he went too hard on gunning for you. Or not hard enough, perhaps?

You quirk a brow as you snap your fingers in his face, wine sloshing gently in your other hand.

Clearly his face is now showing his displeasure.

“You ok? Hello?”

“Oh! Yes, my sweet. Lost in thought.” 

He waggles his fingers and lifts his goblet to toast alongside yours. To new friends.

“I must say - you being lost in thought is entirely unusual. Still wondering about the left handed tongs Gale sent you searching for earlier?” You laugh warmly. He scowls.

“I don’t eat! I haven’t eaten for two hundred years. What use would I have for tongs in a dungeon, darling?’

He sips.

‘A fool’s errand in very poor taste, if you ask me.”

You still. He pauses.

He’s feeling sour, and he’s ruined it for you. Sapped the joy from your evening. Gods.

He wracks his brain for ways he can come back into favour. 

Suggest other things he’d like to taste in order to clear his palate. He hasn’t eaten in two hundred years, and he’s absolutely famished. Whet your appetite a little. Win you back round.

“I can hear your brain whirring, you know.” You whisper, leaning close.

He freezes. Can you see it? Through the tadpole? His horrid scheming?

And you do the most unexpected thing.

Your arms come around his torso to envelop him in a tight hug.

You aren’t fervently clutching at his waist, running fevered hands over his abdomen or pulling yourself close just to feel his body against yours.

It’s soft. Clandestine almost. He doesn’t know how to react. 

“I do so adore you, you know? You make this sordid little adventure a little more enjoyable each day.’ 

You hum. Your head falls to his chest, your tail wrapping around his leg steadily.

‘You can talk to me about these things if you want to. If you figure out what you want to say. I’m here.”

He wouldn’t have anticipated a single one of your actions in the face of his sullen behaviour this evening.

Yet the one that touches him most is the tail now secure around his leg. 

A reminder of every tired day you flit joyously against him as you trek together, the curiosity and jubilee when he powers through a wholly trapped room with nothing but a single tool and a flourish - for good measure, of course.

Your little happy whips as you stumble on dire-needed pouches of gold alongside him. His lockpicking skill that you find oh-so enthralling, providing for the party in making use of his talent.

And every once in a while when you’re aside him, the way this happens.

A moment that reminds him of the beauty within bodies past their use for sexuality. How genuinely happy those little mindless touches make him. How his undead heart could maybe be cajoled into beating again over this one.

He coughs. Smiles. Brings his arms around you, though delayed.

Head resting atop yours. 

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you, treasure?”

Your tail flits against his leg in a happy shiver.

“Naturally, darling.”

You imitate him in a way that makes you both laugh like fools. Toast once again.

"To us."

[wing-ed-thing]

Smoker x Pirate!Reader Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Mild Sexualization

𓆃 This... isn't going to go as well as you think it will.

𓆃 Because Smoker is one of the last people in the service who will throw away all of his deeply held views on justice and what that means just to chase the tail of an attractive pirate.

𓆃 Much of your relationship— or lack thereof— will look relatively normal on the outside with Smoker chasing you and you running from the Marines like the pirate you are.

𓆃 And any enjoyment you get out of your limited interactions will be largely up to you. It's on you whether you want to tease him, drag on your fights, and give him a firm slap on the ass before you leave, because Smoker isn't about to initiate any sort of closeness or fondness from his end.

𓆃 He's never going to make comments that resemble anything complimentary or claim his goals are anything different than taking you into custody.

𓆃 Although Smoker is a fan of repartee. So, while worming your way out of your Marine/pirate relationship is a no-go, you can warm him up to you through witty banter.

𓆃 And depending on your demeanor, you can essentially make yourself a part of Smoker's routine, and fighting you suddenly turns into a formality.

𓆃 "I suppose there's no way I could ask you to turn yourself in quietly, huh?" Smoker puffs every time, taking a drag of his cigar with his eyes cast toward the sky. He already knows how things between you end.

𓆃 You'll get away, and it'll be time for him to track you down so you can banter with him and start the cycle all over again.

𓆃 While his intentions to follow through with his orders will never quell, the more he develops a soft spot for you, the more negotiating he'll begin to do.

𓆃 First, they're with himself, as if his growing fondness and fixation for you are normal for his line of work.

𓆃 "It's a matter of pride," he'll grumble, "I'm a Marine, goddammit."

𓆃 Sticking to the work excuse doesn't last for long. After all, Smoker isn't one to lie to himself. And so the negotiations will shift to you.

𓆃 "You're wasted as a goddam pirate," "Look, if you turn yourself in, I might be able to pull a few strings to get you back on your feet after your sentencing," "We've been through this song and dance enough... c'mon now."

𓆃 You're not sure if he realizes that he's subconsciously resorted to trying to convince you to become a part of his world. That somehow you might join up or leave your life of crime behind— like that would change anything.

𓆃 Smoker will walk up to you with a sigh, his weapon thrown across his shoulder and his opposite hand in the pocket of his jacket.

𓆃 "No way you're turnin' yourself in?" he'll ask.

𓆃 "No chance in hell, Smoky," you'll tell him with a shake of your head.

𓆃 And that's how your relationship will go.

𓆃 There might be some times when he has no other choice but to deviate from your usual routine. Perhaps the stars aligned in your favor or the cards were stacked against him in a scenario where it made more sense to let you go.

𓆃 Or maybe he'll give into a lapse in judgment, giving into you a bit more but still never dropping his closely-held position in the Marines for a second.

𓆃 The only stability you'll have together is the consistent cycle of him trying to arrest you. And unless one of you gives in, that's all you'll ever truly be.

𓆃 No matter what the feelings are, what's happened in the past, or the fleeting moments of intimacy, Smoker isn't going to be the one to break.

𓆃 So it becomes a question of your freedom and if you're willing to give that up for the mere chance of a life with a man who you don't even know will truly accept you because of your past.

𓆃 Perhaps you'll see if and when the World Government crumbles...

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[cardansriddle]

Omg congratulations you deserve every single follower ilysm. Can you maybe do 8, 22 and 32 from the prompt list?

Just Once - (tom riddle x reader)

Summary: You encounter Tom Riddle in the Prefects Bathroom while taking a bath...more than once.

Warnings: Implied sexual themes. Not proofread

A/N: Lmk if you horn-dogs want a spicy part 2 to this. Did not intend this to turn so sexual but oh well, couldn't help it.

part 2

༻♛༺

The hot water steamed the air around you in warm comfort while you submerged yourself in the bath. The Prefects' Bathroom was undoubtedly your favourite privilege that was granted to the Prefects. No one could dare disturb you, especially when it was way past curfew— almost midnight.

You hummed, placing your head back against the edge of the pool and shutting your eyes in pure delight. The burdens of the day slowly melted into the water, until you were completely tranquil and serene.

That was until you heard the door to the bathroom being swung open with force, causing you to straighten up and gather bubbles to hide the sight of your body from prying eyes.

"Who is there?" You called but received no reply. Perplexed, you reached out to grab your wand and waited in silence.

The sound of shoes clicking against the marble floor echoed in the vast space, drawing closer and closer until—

"Tom." You recognised. "The bathroom is quite busy as you can see. I urge you to leave at once."

He cocked his head to the side, and you could not help but trail your eyes all over his figure. Despite the late hour, he looked as composed and neat as ever. Robes sitting perfectly on him with no wrinkles and the hair styled perfectly in place. You wanted to scoff.

"As a Prefect, it is my duty to make sure every student out past curfew is fairly disciplined and returned to their dormitories." Came his dry reply and your gaze snapped back to his face.

"Are Prefects not supposed enforce rules? Not break them." This time, you did not hold in your scoff. "You are out way past curfew as well. Prefect duties are over for the day."

In the dimly lit room, the candles illuminated his mildly amused face. "I am also the Head Boy. Those ruled do not apply for me."

You shifted, the action causing the water to slosh slightly, and Tom's gaze briefly dropped to where your chest was hidden underneath the bubbles before his eyes connected with yours. You could not detect the emotion hidden behind his onyx stare.

"Just leave." You sighed at last. "The last time we were here together did not end well for either of us." You reminded, the memories of that night you had stumbled on each other and shared a bath running through your mind. It had been foolish for both sides to engage in each other, yet something had pulled you that night to one another, until—

Well, until he had taken you over and over again against the wall of the giant pool. And the next morning, you had avoided each other like the plague, refusing to speak or mention of what had transpired between you ever again. You both silently agreed it had been a mistake. A lapse in judgement.

"Oh? I remember quite differently." His voice brought you back to the present. You met his eyes once again, and this time there was no mistaking the pool of desire in the black of his eyes. "I remember your screams of satisfaction." He took a step forwards. "I remember you pleading for me." Another step. "Begging for me." He stood at the edge of the bath now, looking down at you with a small, pleased smirk.

You could feel the heat returning to your body, igniting your nerves in fire with his every word. "Riddle stop—"

"Oh it's back to Riddle now, isn't it?" He hummed in displeasure. "I remember you moaning my name for the whole castle to hear."

Your breathing was getting heavier, chest heaving and cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. If he did not stop, you were sure you would burst into flames.

"I hear it all the time. It haunts me." A pause. "You haunt me."

You wondered how the hell you were supposed to proceed with your life after that confession, but your mind was a muddles mess, unable to make sense of anything.

His hand reached to undo the tie at his neck, and you could only watch in stunned silence as he discarded the item on the floor before his hand came up to the buttons of his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"It seems you need a reminder of just how well that night ended." Tom replied lowly, and your gaze involuntarily fell to his fingers working on the buttons of his shirt.

"This is not a good idea..." You whispered helplessly, knowing you would succumb to him either way despite your verbal protests.

His hands stilled halfway, and he lowered himself until he was eye level with you. Bringing a hand to grab your chin, he tilted your face towards him until you were a mere breath away from him.

"Do you want me to leave?" His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. And as you opened your mouth to form a reply, his grip tightened. "And do not lie. I will know if you do."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head slightly. "Just once. We can do this just this one time."

Tom brushed his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss, as if to tease you, before he pulled away and got rid of his shirt with a self-satisfied smirk.

"That is what you said last time as well."

༻♛༺

TAGLIST: @bunnyc0r3 @orangepact77 @herfantasyworldd

Let me know if you want to be added to my general taglist!

[moronkombat]

characters and their s/o’s getting into their first fight? kuai liang, johnny and kenshi?

Although arguments are bound to happen in any relationship, neither of you really thought it would happen with yours

Kuai Liang is typically level-headed and able to defuse situations before they begin but that not the case here

The fight would probably be over his strained relationship with Bi-Han

You suggest that maybe there is a way to make amends but Kuai Liang is not ready to hear that yet

He tells you not bring up the impossible but you persist, trying to push him a bit

Kuai Liang is not wanting to hear anything about making amends with his estranged brother, not after all that's happened

It's the first time he raises his voice towards you. He's not screaming but not exactly talking either. It is somewhere between a yell and scolding

The tone is shocking and gives you room to pause before deciding it best to take your leave

He doesn't chase you. Kuai Liang knows both you need the time to collect yourselves and process what's happened

Kuai Liang is planning on apologizing first but you beat him to it. You explain how you are sorry for bringing up Bi-Han and that you know it is still a hard subject for him to talk about

Your apology is accepted followed by one given to you. Kuai Liang knows he shouldn't have raised his voice towards you and he is sorry for that

Ultimately it is an amiable reconcile due to the pure dedication between you two and your abilities to recognize mistakes

It's really only a matter of time that arguments begin between you and Johnny

Such things come with the territory of being in a relationship with someone high profile and rather adventurous

The fight blooms from his lack of time spent with you directly

As he's starting up his new behind the camera career, he's often away and while yes he calls and texts you, it if often brief exchanges

You long for more connection between the two of you and have your fears regarding whether or not the relationship will begin to fade apart

This worry is kept to yourself for a long while, not wanting to bother Johnny to much while he's working

But that's the problem, he's always working. So you decide to call him and express yourself

Problem is, Johnny can't talk for long right now. He never can talk for long anymore

This makes you angry and you begin to tell him how it feels as though you do not exist to him any more

Johnny is frustrated by this and in a grave lapse of judgement calls you by his ex-wife's name

You don't say anything after that. You hang up the phone and refuse to engage with him any further

Of course he tries to call you back immediately but it met with silence. He wants to call again but a producer needs him and so he is pulled away from attempting to contact you

Even when he tries again, you ignore them. You don't pick up your phone or acknowledge anything he's sent you

It all accumulates to Johnny showing up at your place of residence looking rather pathetic and broken

He apologizes profusely for calling you that when he was upset but he doesn't ask for forgiveness

Johnny goes onto explain how being able to make movies has given him a sense of value and importance again but he also acknowledges how he's left you in the shadow of this

He's basically pleading for you to talk to him again and tells you he wants to be better and he will if you give him the opportunity to

Once he's finished speaking, you invite him inside and the two of you begin to rebuild

Kenshi is a busy and rather illusive individual

His work keeps him rather occupied most of the time it isn't often he is home with you for extended periods of time

This is something you have adjusted to but not something to completely be content with

But you make do. You have great friends who keep you company and invite you out to activities that you really enjoy

This is where the fight begins. Kenshi does not have a problem with you having friends but he suspects on of them is attempting to really attach themselves to you

It's bothersome and he is rather jealous but seldom to admit it. Still, he takes notice in this one friend accompanying you more and more

When he calls you and asks you what your plans are, their name is often said more than any other and this is rather vexing

Kenshi starts to become annoyed just when hearing their name and finds himself frowning when you talk about them and all the fun outings you've gone on in their company

Eventually it boils down to Kenshi becoming rather frustrated when the two of you are reunited and he gets to meet this friend

Kenshi is rude to them which greatly offends you. You tell him to be polite as this is someone you really care about

This only makes Kenshi more irritated and he ends up arguing with your friend and belittling them

You're confused and tell Kenshi to leave. You say you'll talk to him later when he tries to protest and Kenshi instantly knows he's screwed up

Talking to you after this is not easy as you are upset and, more importantly, disappointed in Kenshi's behavior

Kenshi attempts to explain himself without admitting his jealousy but you pick up on it quickly

You don't directly call him envious but strongly illude to it before telling Kenshi that you feel hurt that he doesn't trust you to be just friends with someone

This really jars him. Him being jealous is really a matter of not trusting you and he doesn't want that

Kenshi would apologize for his actions and behaviors but you tell him that apology needs to be given to your friend

As much as Kenshi does not want to, he agrees to it because he knows it is right and will make you happy

[blue-rose-soul]

"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"

This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.

"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"

"Ridiculous."

"Absurd!"

"Utterly laughable!"

No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.

This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.

I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.

His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.

Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.

Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.

Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.

Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.

-

(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)

(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)

(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)