#the actor x the author

[loserdiaz]

we are a fresh page on the desk (filling in the blanks as we go)

buck/eddie | teen and up | 3/3 , 29k words | complete

thanks to @ronordmann for the beautiful cover, it's gorge and i'm obsessed with it! also! this fic is for @monsterrae1 bc she's amazing and bc she also demanded me to write this fic. here you go, hoe! 💗

"Interesting read?" Buck asks and when Eddie shoots him a confused look, he nods towards the book in his lap. "Leave The Light On?"

"Oh! Yeah, it's one of my favorite books." Eddie smiles, shy and charming. "I've read the series like, a thousand times."

"Really? Huh?" Buck feels his heart thump erratically inside of him.

Holy shit, holy shit. Eddie Diaz read his books.

Honestly, how is Buck supposed to act normal after such revelation?

"I'm actually flying to an audition right now. Hopefully to be part of the movie for the book." Eddie says and then frowns. "Oh shit, I don't know if I should've told you that."

"It's okay." He leans forward and grins, squinting one of his eyes and shrugging. "Your secret's safe with me.' or; Buck's a best seller author under a pen name, Eddie is an actor auditioning for the movie adaptation of his books, and somewhere along the way, they fall in love.

read on ao3

[fandomnerd9602]

Can you do Lizzie Olsen x Reader

Elizabeth giggles as Y/N brings her a cup of tea…

Elizabeth: thank you

Y/N: anything to make you smile, my Lizzie

Elizabeth kisses on the cheek…

Elizabeth: now what can you make you smile?

Y/N: read me a passage from your latest masterpiece ?

Elizabeth: but it’s not done yet

Y/N: it’s still a masterpiece

[ghl-osty]

i have never once in my entire life casually liked something

[captainmooni]

ART DUMP REPOSTING EVERYTHING LET'S GOO

[puppeteered-poetry]

"I'd spoil you rotten if I had the chance."

That with Actor Mark x Reader? If you're not comfortable with x readers, maybe Darkstache instead?

X readers tend to be pretty case by case as I'm friends with a lot of introjects, yk? In this case though, it is a-okay <3

    When Mark gave you a call today, you had honestly expected another wild adventure. It seemed to be the normal fare for his invitations, at some point his opulent manor would fade away into the next scene he chose, a Heist, or a date, or a spaceship.

    But this time was different. He was waiting in the foyer for you, dressed in his red tuxedo. He normally reserved this for very special occasions. It immediately made you wonder what was going on.

    “Ah, Y/N! Why don’t you come sit down with me?” His smile was effortlessly charming, but you knew him well enough to see he was incredibly nervous. He was discreetly wiping his palms dry on his pants.

    You followed him into the dining room, where two places were set, lit by a centerpiece of candles, half melted and faintly coated in dust. He pulled out your chair for you, and you sat down, waiting for him to explain.

    “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, my darling…” He hummed, pouring you a glass of wine. “You remember our date, right?”

     You can’t help but laugh, remembering all the strange events that managed to happen. You’re pretty certain a part of you is still stuck behind with Darkiplier. When you nod, he lights up, sitting at his own place.

     “Oh, good, good… I remember I was a little… short with you, on set.” He cleared his throat, “But let me assure you, it wasn’t personal!”

    You listen to him hem and haw about his point, eating your spaghetti as he peers down at an index card he thought he was hiding under the table. You wonder if he cooked the dinner himself, or if the Chef was somewhere around, still.

    “M-my point is… I… I would do anything for you, Y/N. I would spoil you rotten, if I could… If you would take me, maybe… We could be more than just adventure buddies?” Mark’s heart was pounding in his ears, which surprised him. He was almost certain that thing stopped working years ago.

    You can’t help yourself. He’s put so much effort in, the candlelit dinner, the tux, his poorly concealed notecard… You can’t help but love him.

    You nod, and his grin is like the sunshine, his fangs gleaming. 

    “Oh, Y/N, you’ve made me the happiest I’ve felt in years…” He tries to lean over the table to kiss you, but has to settle for getting up, and planting a kiss on your cheek.

[zoemaywrites]

day in the life of y/n

Absolute pure fluff and giggles

932 words

TW: Harry being too cuddly

Waking up to a buzzing noise is never the way anyone wants to wake up, not even y/n. She rolled over, to find the source of this incessant noise, finding it was her phone, not her alarm, as she had previously believed. 

"Hello?" Her groggy voice sounded through the receiver. Harry always loved her morning voice, so sweet and innocent, just like her.

"Hey baby, did I wake you up?" He questioned, though clearly knowing the answer.

"No no, Harry, you're fine. What's up?" She sat upright, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. She looked over to the clock finding it was 11 am. She wasn't surprised, she had always been a late sleeper.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight? Order takeout, watch a movie, have some of that nice wine you like?" He questioned.

"Well, I have a super hot date tonight with my glassware and polishing, but I'm sure I could find some time to fit you in," she giggled in reply, looking across her dirty bedroom. She really needed to clean this place up, it was getting embarrassing.

"Well, if you can squeeze me in," Harry continued to play along, "I'm thinking 6.30 would be good? I will have chipotle all ready and dolled up for you."

"I guess I could do then, I'll see you later, yeah?" she teased.

"See you then, baby, love you."

"Love you too Harry." She ended the phone call and sighed. Right, she thought, time to get to work. 

She spent a few hours cleaning dishes and picking up dirty clothes from the floor, finally having made some progress around the apartment. It wasn't perfect, but it was acceptable. She found herself sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in one hand, and colouring pens in the other. Y/n wasn't an artist, that was for sure, but she always made cute little decorations for the cafe at Halloween and Christmas. She adored working at the Cafe, it was the best job she had ever had, and even though she knew this wasn't the career she wanted forever, she was happy to be there for the moment. It was her life, the cafe, she worked there, had friends there, and somehow, it felt like a sort of home. 

As it was only 2 pm, she decided to pop over to the cafe, it was only a ten-minute drive, and the coffee she made when she got there was worth it all. She sat in the car, put on some tunes and began driving, not forgetting the decorations she made earlier. 

Once she got to the cafe, she parked and headed inside. It was a quiet day, being a Tuesday afternoon. Nichola, the owner and mum to Violet, greeted her, a big warm smile on her face.

"How are you doing poppet?" Nichola asked, reaching round to hug her.

"I'm doing good thank you Nic, and you?" she replied, already making her way over to her favourite person, Violet, squeezing her tightly, giving her a quick peck on the head.

"Very good thanks, love!" she replied before going over to the counter to serve a customer. 

"How're you doing Vi," she asked, still encased in the hug.

"I'm okay, you know how it is with Luke at the moment - not fun."

"Aww, I'm sorry. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" y/n replied, sympathetic to violets situation, having been living through it with her.

"Tonight? After work?" She asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I have plans with Harry, but definitely tomorrow, yeah?" she responded, feeling bad.

"Ooh, that's fine, little miss I-love-harry-more-than-my-bestie," she teased. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, as she began to make her coffee. 

"Whatever," she giggled.

Y/n spent a couple more hours at the cafe, chatting to Vi and Nic, and helping out when the afterschool rush came about, before heading out to go see Harry.

She arrived at Harry's house, knocking on the door a couple of times before he opened up and greeted her with a big kiss.

"How's it going baby?" He asked, settling into the couch, a glass of wine splashing around in his hand.

"It's good, I saw Vi and Nic today, helped out a bit," she said settling into his lap, facing him.

"Mm, is that so?" he pecked her cheek, feeling very cuddly.

"Yeah, we talked a lot about Luke, you know, the luke. I honestly don't get why she's so involved with him, he's a dick!" She began to say before harry cut her off with a loud gasp. It wasn't often Y/n used coarse language, but he knew that meant she was serious about the subject. She giggled and gave him a soft slap.

"But he is, like he's messing her around all the time and talking shit about her to her friends," she was about to say more before harry began gasping again. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him.

"My baby," he slapped his hand over his heart, "my Y/n, using such horrible language about another human being? Who has she become? Where's my innocent baby gone?" He jokingly questioned, feigning a heart attack. She rolled her eyes again, for what felt like the millionth time in the past minute. And nuzzled her head into his shoulder, trying to stifle her laughter, albeit badly. He chuckled, kissing the side of her head.

"I'm only joking baby, Luke is a dick."

"Mhmm, and a mean one too," she responded lowly, tickling harry's neck.

"I know baby, I know," he responded.

[justanothersterekficgirl]

Teenage Dream by matildajones

Mature | 58k | 13/13

"I’m married. I’m married to Derek Hale,” Stiles says. Everything seems to hit him at once. He pushes aside the fact there’s a celebrity sitting right next to him, and then thinks of why the fuck he can’t remember him, why he doesn’t know who he’s married to, and how much time he must have lost. -- After an accident, Stiles wakes up to what can only be a dream. He has money, he has fame, he has award winning actor Derek Hale as his husband. It quickly seems more and more like a nightmare because Stiles doesn't remember getting any of it - and it's hard to accept the reality that Derek can still love him.

[yusuke-of-valla]

WE LIVE IN A HELL WORLD

Snippets from the article by Karissa Bell:

SAG-AFTRA, the union representing thousands of performers, has struck a deal with an AI voice acting platform aimed at making it easier for actors to license their voice for use in video games. ...

the agreements cover the creation of so-called “digital voice replicas” and how they can be used by game studios and other companies. The deal has provisions for minimum rates, safe storage and transparency requirements, as well as “limitations on the amount of time that a performance replica can be employed without further payment and consent.”

Notably, the agreement does not cover whether actors’ replicas can be used to train large language models (LLMs), though Replica Studios CEO Shreyas Nivas said the company was interested in pursuing such an arrangement. “We have been talking to so many of the large AAA studios about this use case,” Nivas said. He added that LLMs are “out-of-scope of this agreement” but “they will hopefully [be] things that we will continue to work on and partner on.”

...Even so, some well-known voice actors were immediately skeptical of the news, as the BBC reports. In a press release, SAG-AFTRA said the agreement had been approved by "affected members of the union’s voiceover performer community." But on X, voice actors said they had not been given advance notice. "How has this agreement passed without notice or vote," wrote Veronica Taylor, who voiced Ash in Pokémon. "Encouraging/allowing AI replacement is a slippery slope downward." Roger Clark, who voiced Arthur Morgan in Red Dead Redemption 2, also suggested he was not notified about the deal. "If I can pay for permission to have an AI rendering of an ‘A-list’ voice actor’s performance for a fraction of their rate I have next to no incentive to employ 90% of the lesser known ‘working’ actors that make up the majority of the industry," Clark wrote.

SAG-AFTRA’s deal with Replica only covers a sliver of the game industry. Separately, the union is also negotiating with several of the major game studios after authorizing a strike last fall. “I certainly hope that the video game companies will take this as an inspiration to help us move forward in that negotiation,” Crabtree said.

And here are some various reactions I've found about things people in/adjacent to this can do

And in OTHER AI games news, Valve is updating it's TOS to allow AI generated content on steam so long as devs promise they have the rights to use it, which you can read more about on Aftermath in this article by Luke Plunkett

[marlinspirkhall]

*this isn't written in any specific order, it was just written in the order they occured to me

[isaut]

ugh more ophelia kuroro fancam songs.... in my feelings, radio, lucky ones, say yes to heaven, religion, tulsa jesus freak, arcadia, if you lie down with me, margaret, living legend .............

[loserdiaz]

seven-ish sentences sunday! 📜🎥

tagged by @prince-buck-diaz @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @panbuckley @wildlife4life <33

here's more from author!buck and actor!eddie au, plus another moodboard bc i cannot stop.

(also, if you wanna be tagged on this fic once i post, interact with this post)

"Can you read for Gabriel in Scene 23, where he's talking to officer Blake Scatorccio?" Chimney says, looking up from his notes. "Buck will read opposite to you." 

"Yeah, okay." Eddie swallows thickly. In the first books, Gabriel and Blake only have a few scenes, but in the second book their relationship grows stronger. 

Some fans even think the author might be building up to a romantic relationship, claiming it's a slow burn. Eddie isn't sure and he hasn't asked Buck, but just the idea of doing this scene with him makes his nerves set on fire. 

He'll be acting out Buck's words, words the man took time and effort and that he created oh so carefully, so masterfully. Eddie will be telling them to him, looking him in the eye and thinking— what exactly? 

"Eddie? Are you ready?" Buck raises an eyebrow at him. 

"Yeah, Ready." 

Buck clears his throat and starts the scene. 

"Gabe? What are you doing here?" 

"I'm dropping all of the evidence I gathered with Pipe in these last few months." He sighs, feeling as defeated as Gabriel does in the scene. "I just— I can't do it anymore." 

Buck frowns at him, just like he pictures Blake would be doing in the book. "What? You're just gonna give up?" 

"I can't keep going like this! Chasing after some psycho, being haunted by my wife's ghost. I—" Eddie runs a hand through his hair and pulls back. "I need to think of my son, okay? I can't keep doing your job for you, Officer Scatorccio." He sneers. He evokes every feeling of grief and frustration he felt when Shannon first left him with no warning, except for a note. He brings up every feeling of insecurity and of not being good enough to the surface, every feeling of rage and fury that's been simmering under the surface for longer than Eddie is willing to admit, and he pours them all into Gabriel's character. 

In the book and in the script, Blake gets impossibly closer to Gabriel, grabbing him by the arm and stopping him from walking away. In real life, Buck remains seated a few feet away from him. 

Eddie tries not to be disappointed. This is an audition after all and Buck is just reading the lines to move Eddie through the scene, that's how it goes. It's just business. 

"My hands are tied and you know it. The whole police department can't go after just one person, Gabe. You know that. We have too many cases and—" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see Chimney. The director held in a rare thrall, the tip of his glasses inserted between his full, dreamy lips, that ankle crossed over the opposite knee, jiggling, jiggling. He looks impressed, Eddie thinks. Maybe. 

"And what?" 

"I think you're close. I think you are stronger and smarter than any one of us— You're extraordinary, Gabriel Alvarez and I am in awe of you every single day. You can't just give up." Buck gazes up at him, a smile gracing his lips, a small and barely there thing that doesn't really match the scene but Eddie can't bring himself to mind. 

"You are too good with words, Officer Scatorccio. But I don't know if I can trust them." Eddie looks down at the script, and then back up at Buck. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"Gabe, I—" And that's the end of the scene. Blake's partner interrupts them, claiming they need to go and Gabriel is left alone at the station. Confused and hopeless. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, telling himself it's over and he gave the scene the best he had. And he thinks he did pretty well— He thinks he did amazing, losing himself in the scene and in Buck's eyes, and hope sizzles under his skin, strong and powerful. 

"That was amazing, Eddie. You really seem to get the character." Chimney smiles at him, forcing him to look away from Buck. "It's really a beautiful thing to see." 

"Thanks." Eddie fidgets with the script. He knows they won't make a decision right then and there, and certainly not in front of him, but something keeps him frozen in place. 

His feet refuse to walk away. 

Hope inside of him moves and weaves through his system like a hurricane, not wanting to leave. 

"You really do understand Gabriel, Eddie." Buck speaks. "That was— Well, I guess Blake Scatorccio said it. Extraordinary." Buck says softly, maybe too soft for what the moment calls. "Thank you." 

Thank God it's dark in the rear of the studio. No one can see the tomato-colored tidal wave surging up Eddie's neck.

"Again, thanks so much for the opportunity." Eddie says, feeling his lips dry up. "I, uh— Yeah. Thanks." He awkwardly waves and turns away, hope trailing behind him like a neon sign showing how much he needs, how much he wants this. He wonders if they can see it. He wonders if they care. 

He thinks Buck might. 

tagging (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @alyxmastershipper @buddierights @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @bucktalias @maygrantgf @messyhairdiaz @ebdaydreamer @bekkachaos @cowboy-buddie @911onabc @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @transbuck @transboybuckley @buckitup @prettyboybuckley @starlingbite

[silvermillenniumqueenneptune]

Chapters: 2/35 Title: Thrive Fandom: Actor RPF Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adan Canto/Original Female Character(s), Èlodie Yung & Adan Canto, Adan Canto & Sean Lew, Adan Canto & Navid Negahban Characters: Adan Canto, Original Female Character(s), Èlodie Yung, Sean Lew, Navid Negahban Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Meet-Cute, I Don't Even Know, Coffee Shops, Actors, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author-insert, Age Difference, To Podfic, artwork welcome, Winter, Hot Chocolate Summary:

Adan Canto isn't looking for love when he meets a much younger novelist in a coffee shop in Alburquerque while filming The Cleaning Lady season one. He's just gotten over a cancer scare, and wants to focus on his health.

So, then, why does he want to invite a complete stranger into his world, and what makes him so sure she can show him what it means to thrive? Is their connection more than a creative bond? Can he help her let go of her crippling self-doubt long enough to discover what she means to him?

[beneaththetangles]

Welcome to episode 22 of the Tangle x Cast! We’re excited to share with you today an interview with actress Amanda Gish, the voice behind Witch (Goblin Slayer), Hop (Dragon Ball Super), Kinoko (My Hero Academia), and many more anime and gaming characters! In a roundtable setting, she talks to us about finding bonds through anime, romanticizing the ordinary, taking a healthy approach to cosplay and work, and much more in a wide-ranging discussion with our fellow fans-to-professionals, Eryn and Paris. Come join them along with Tyler and guest host, Twwk, as they chat, frolic with Ichigo and Sesshomaru (you’ll just have to listen), and much more on episode 22 of the Tangle x Cast!

0:00 - Introduction and Revisiting Joy 2:23 - Paris Turns 30 4:25 - Welcome, Amanda Gish! 7:17 - Anime Mad Libs 13:23 - Interview and Discussion: Amanda Gish 52:13 - Cast Question 52:34 - Closing

Cast Question

Are you pursuing your dream job or passion?

(Read More)

[ghostfacd]

SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about

AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much

installment of this au (recommend reading for context)

It started off innocent.

Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.

You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.

That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.

“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”

Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.

“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”

“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”

“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”

“They already think you’re crazy.”

Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”

“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”

He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.

“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”

“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”

Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”

Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”

You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”

“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”

And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (a Valentino production)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.

tags: Alastor x reader, smut, dubcon, mentions of assault (Val intended to "fuck you to death”), Val's existence, overstimulation, forced (?) orgasms, bondage (shadow tentacles), choking (sexy kind, not murdery kind), cervix wrecked, your aunt is a bitch

(author's note: I've been in Japan for like 7 years and my English has suffered, but your fucking smutty writing on this site has inspired me to write for the first time in years.)

Minors DNI

Angel burst into the hotel lobby, winded. “Please, you gotta do somethin’!” 

To the surprise of everyone, he ran straight to Alastor, tears forming in his eyes.

“Val’s gonna hurt her real bad. I don’t know who else to ask, please. I can't—-“ he cradled his head in his hands, “I can't watch him break any more people.”

Alastor didn’t seem to react at first, but Charlie appeared at Angel’s side and pulled him into a hug, “Angel, take a deep breath. He’s gonna hurt who? What’s wrong?”

“He got a new soul. Some fucking cultist offered her up as sacrifice. But she's not dead yet Charlie—- he dragged her down here alive.” His voice cracked, “He wantsta— he said he’s gonna fuck her to death on camera and wait for her to respawn in hell. He’s convinced he’ll make a fortune off the tapes. Please, for fuck’s sake someone has to do something.”

A human in hell? Well, that was something interesting after all. With a raised brow Alastor spoke, “And how exactly can I help this poor, unfortunate soul?”

“Make a deal or– rip his arms off, I don’t fuckin’ know! There has to be something you can offer Val worth her soul. I’d give you my soul if I could!”

Well that’d be worthless.

But a human? A living, breathing human? Intriguing.

“Alastor you have do something. This isn't right! Hell isn’t for the living.” Charlie’s hair flew upward as her eyes flashed red for a second, “I’ll repay it somehow.”

Well there's no harm in taking a look. 

The demons and sinners who saw Alastor walking into the Vee’s tower oscillated between fleeing for their lives and live tweeting the event. Either a truce or a war would be breaking out and they knew they’d be fucked regardless.

“Alastooor”, Val exhaled,  letting the name drag out lazily, “Come to ruin something, I’m sure.” Val hadn’t seen Alastor since his fight with Vox 7 years ago, and he hadn’t expected to see him in his studio— ever. 

“Ha! No, not today. Word got around that there's a special little guest hidden in your studio.” Alastor’s eyes darted about the room, uninterested in the various parts and bits of the actors changing.

Val glanced at Angel, who’d suspiciously returned some 30 minutes before Alastor appeared. 

“I didn’t say nothing, Val.” Angel’s hands went up in defense. “He came to me askin’ about her.”

“And what exactly do you want with my “little guest”?” Val dropped any pretense of politeness. 

Alastor leaned forward on his microphone, and with a pop of static he practically cooed, “To see the poor creature, of course.”

Val ashed his cigarette into a cameraman’s hair and walked off, “Fuck it, sure. She’s back here.”

The back room was dark, perhaps some would call it mood lighting but what mood exactly it conveyed fell somewhere between dungeon and power outage.

You sat on your knees in the center of a round bed. Arms held above your head by a large clip attached to wrist restraints. Your body swayed slightly, a long rope anchored to the ceiling and tied to the clip above you.  Your body was slightly suspended, knees barely making contact with the bed beneath you. The white nightgown you wore was bloodied and ripped at the collar, causing it to slip down your left shoulder. Jaw clenched, your eyes were covered with a red satin tie. 

Alastor took the scene in. Your lip was cut and swollen, bruises peppered your cheek and exposed shoulder. Yet, you were breathing heavily, like a bull about to rush them. You were clearly defenseless, but somehow still defiant. His smile grew to his ears. It had been decades since he had a human in such a prone state.

“Have you …. broken her in yet?” He asked delicately, eyes never leaving your face.

“Nah, just roughed her up a little. I want to capture her raw reaction on camera when she takes her first demon cock.” Valentino clenched his fist to emphasize the word “first”. 

Your head fell forward as you pulled down on your wrist restraints, a growl rising in your throat.

Alastor felt his breath get caught in his own, your nightgown riding slowly up your legs as you struggled. 

“Hey!” Val snapped his fingers in your direction. “Don’t embarrass me. Our guest came to see you. He’s considering making an offer for you, I’m sure, so say hello like a good girl.” Val rolled his eyes, “Sluts always fucking embarrassing me.”

You tried to gather enough saliva to speak, finding the taste of blood still on your tongue. “Fuck you and your friend.” barely made it from your chapped lips. When was your last drink of water? Last meal? How long had you been unconscious before this all began?

“Not friends.” Alastor was quick to retort, “The name’s Alastor, my dear. It’s a pleasure.”

You sneered, a pleasure? What a sick joke. 

“Alastor.” you repeated it, disdain dripping from your lips.

The absolute contempt with which you said his name did something to him. His eyes darted from your mouth back to your inner thighs, exposed from the rising dress. Your mouth was so rude but your body looked so sweet. A little lamb– no, a doe.  

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a request, Alastor himself was surprised to hear himself say it with such demand.

You thrashed. “Oh is that what gets you off? You wanna hear your name in my mouth?” You said mockingly. “You’re just as FUCKED as him.” The nightgown rode up even further. Alastor’s tongue stuck to his teeth as his mouth went dry. Had you been delivered to Val without panties? Offered to him in just this sheer cotton night dress? What was happening to him…

 Static bit your skin as a low hum filled the room. 

“Say it.” Alastor’s voice dropped an octave, eyes suddenly taking on a slight glow. You couldn’t see the danger before you, but you felt it. Something primal in you knew you were in the presence of a predator.

No, you couldn’t see him, but his presence was pressing in all around you. 

“Alastor.” You seethed, “ALASTOR.” Pulling down on the restraints yet again you tried to find the strength to stand, “ALASTOR! ALASTOR!!” Your legs buckled under you having gone numb hours ago, his name devolving into a gutteral scream. All of your anger and despair ripped from your chest as you shouted his name. The nightgown had now ridden to your hips but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in you to care. 

You were so full of rage, so defiant still. You were so…. alive.

He felt the blood rushing to his crotch in an all together forgotten sensation, and knew immediately his decision. “Let’s make a deal.” His eyes didn’t leave you, but Valentino knew he was talking to him.

Val let out a laugh, “I have some time to waste while they finish the set. Why not.”

Seated in his personal quarters, Val motioned for Alastor to sit opposite him. You had been left in the dark of that room, only knowing you were alone when the static died down and the hair on the nape of your neck relaxed. 

“Listen, Radio Demon. There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to hand over the little bitch.” His long arms rested over the back of his sofa, a heart shaped puff of smoke leaving his lips. Alastor swatted at the air as it approached. 

“What do you even need her for? You don’t deal in souls, but flesh. Surely you can find another toy to break on camera.” Alastor waved his microphone away.

“Hmm”, Val brought a finger to his chin in thought, seriously considering what Alastor could possibly offer him. “Oooh, I know.” His head lolled to the side,  “People have seen me fuck a thousand times. But no one’s ever even seen you with a partner. ‘Radio Demon fucks human sacrifice’” He motioned from left to right as if reading the words off an imaginary marquee, “Now THAT would make money. Real money. Fuck GOD levels of money.” A red liquid leaked from his lips as they were stretched across clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily humped at the air, “oh fuck. Yes. You do the porn, and I’ll give her to you. Soul and body.”

Alastor was looking at Val but his mind was still in front of you, his name tumbling from your lips. The uninterrupted skin where your thighs met your hips. The desperation in your scream. How absolutely soft and fragile you were. He adjusted his hips, trying to calm the twitching of his cock at the thought of you helplessly before him. 

“What exactly are you proposing?” His fingers came to rest entwined on his knee, one leg over the other.

“First, I have full rights to the video to do as I please.” Val counted out on his fingers, “The porno has to show penetration. No dry humping or some bullshit like that. I need you fucking that whore if I’m gonna sell this shit. Aaand”, A sickening grin grew on Valentino’s face, “She has to cum. And I’ll know if she’s faking it. If you don’t manage all three, the deal is off. I keep the human and all rights to the video for per— no, *in* pep-“ he sputtered, “perpur- forever! Fuck.” 

Alastor’s default grin was now so wide his gums could be seen peeking past his lips, his eyes flashing to dials, “It’s a deal.” He extended his hand to Valentino as he stood. A green light was shining from the open palm but Val shook it regardless, confident the deal's conditions wouldn’t be met. He’d seen a lot of fucked up shit on his set, but the Radio Demon, famously uninterested in sex, wasn’t going to make a battered human cum. How stupid could Alastor be, he thought. And he’ll have the video of Alastor failing to please someone to broadcast all over the pride ring and beyond. “May I have a moment alone with her before the filming?”

Val rolled his eyes, “yeah but don’t fuck her off camera.”

The sudden feeling of a hand on your hip startled you so intensely you let out a yelp. 

“Hello, my little doe.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, then your neck, then your collar bone… “Unfortunately your shoot will still continue today. But if you do as I say, I promise you’ll leave the studio alive.”

You felt the nightgown being tugged back down your hips, hiding your exposed sex.

“I will be taking that pompous moth’s place. I will be as gentle as I can, but he will want to see you suffer. You must still fight me, must act pained. Can you play along?”

Your eyes darted behind your eyelids. He sounded— gentle? His voice was soft against your skin. Maybe he was truly the lesser evil of the two. You nodded. You’d heard all the gory details of what the other demon had planned for you, this sounded infinitely more tolerable. You dare thought you’d suffered worse before. 

“And, one more little caveat, darling. I will bring you to orgasm, so please don’t fight so hard as to delay your release.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until his words punched you in the gut. 

“I-“

“Yes?” Alastor’s mouth was nearly on your neck, his smile ghosting your skin.

“I’ve never—- I mean I can only do that by myself. No one else has managed to-“

A large hand patted your head, cutting your train of thought off. How big was he? His hands could palm a basketball. Could he really be gentle? Was he capable of it? Were those hands going to be on you soon? Your mind was running away with the thought of this strange demon fucking you on camera. 

“Oh don’t worry about that. Just focus on your performance. We have to put on a good show!”

Angel was practically chewing his fingers off as he watched the crew finish the set.

“Alastor what the fuck, I thought you were gonna help her!”

“I am, my effeminate friend. Have a little faith in me.” He adjusted his bowtie and took his place on set.

“I have none. I have negative faith, Alastor. Fuuuuck”, Angel slumped against the wall behind him and sank to the floor. 

The stage was set. A red sigil was painted on the floor of a cabin, candles lit around the room as the only source of light (except the stage lighting hanging above the scene). Of the three walls they’d made, the far left wall had an altar haphazardly filled with flowers, a golden bowl, and small plaid satchel.

Someone — something? — led you by the restraints to the stage. Blindfolded, you were pushed down to the floor, forced to sit on your still numb legs. The leather cuffs on your wrist were unbuckled, allowing you to flex your hands. When you reached for the blindfold a hand smacked at yours.

“No no, keep it. I want you to look exactly how I found you.” The familiar voice of Val instructed. 

Someone handed a script to Alastor, but he pulled his hands away from the demon as if the paper itself was an angelic weapon, “Oh, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

“I’ll tell you what to say” Val said, clearly to you.

“It’s—- it’s fine. I’ll just do it like before. I don’t need any help.”

You really didn’t.  There was no improv needed. You could repeat exactly what you said yesterday evening when you awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar place. You’d been visiting your aunt one moment, and alone in a weird room what felt like moments later. Groggy, but alert enough to know something bad had happened. 

You heard “action”, and then silence. You could feel eyes on you.

“Aunt Sara….” You whispered. “I don’t understand what’s happened… Are you still there?” You rubbed your wrists trying to regain some blood flow, readjusting your legs to do the same. 

You heard a strange sound, both yesterday and now. 

“Aunt Sara isn’t here. She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.” The way Alastor said it, the way his breath seemed to almost hitch, surprised you. Something cold touched your ankle, causing you to flinch, “But I want more than that. I need more than that.”

You felt that something-unknown snake up your leg toward your center. Crawling backwards on your butt to create some distance you collided with the altar. The golden bowl rolled to the edge and spilled its contents across the table. You could smell the iron tang of blood before you felt the pitter patter on your shoulder. Alastor inhaled quickly before letting the air back out with as much control as he could manage.

“Who are you?!” You’d asked this already. But this time the disembodied voice of your captor replied, “Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet you.”

The right side of your face smacked against the floor of the makeshift cabin as you were dragged suddenly across the room and into the red sigil. The cold appendage on your leg now tightly coiled up your calf.

“No— you have to fuck her with your fucking dick! You can’t use shadow tentacles!” Val shouted, nearly falling out of his chair.

“Now now, the deal didn’t specify with what, only that penetration must occur. Plus, I won’t show up on your video recording device anyway.” Alastor took several steps back, ensuring he was not in frame, “Rest assured, your audience will know it is me.” His words cracked and stuttered like someone had changed the station midway through his sentence.

A small, “fine, whatever.” was grumbled and the scene continued, the tentacle snaking its way up your thigh as Alastor chuckled softly at how you flinched against him.

You rolled onto your stomach and tried to kick off the shadow but it held firm. Letting out a groan you used your hands to drag yourself back towards the altar. Before you could reach the table your other leg felt the pressure of a new tentacle twist around your knee as you were dragged back toward the Radio demon once again.

Your nightgown was forced up, your ass now exposed and in the air as your legs were pulled open. That was as far as you had really gone yesterday, before a flash of light delivered you into the Pentagram City studio. 

Surprisingly, you felt embarrassed, self conscious knowing there were other people in this room. But as if he could read your mind, or perhaps just noticed the tremble in your legs, Alastor softly said, “It’s only us now, darling. There’s nowhere to hide.”

Third and fourth appendages appeared around your waist and neck. Effortlessly your hips were lifted off the floor, your cunt on full display to the man who now owned you. The tentacle on your neck slipped between your shoulder blades and pressed your chest firmly to the floor. You squirmed and struggled against the restraints but only accomplished to draw another chuckle from Alastor.

“Relax. We have forever, after all. We can take our time.”

You felt pressure at your entrance, and your pleas to stop were cut short as a shadow tentacle pushed its way inside you. It was cold, but quickly began to warm as your heat enveloped it. Your body was resisting it, too tight to take it all in one thrust, but you could feel it slick against your lips easily enough to make its way inside.

“Ooh, my dear, your wet little cunt betrays you.” He cocked his head to the side, antlers doubling then tripling in size, “Have my words affected you so much?”

You could feel the tentacle’s shape shift slightly inside you as if it were adjusting to you and not the other way around. True to his word, there was no pain except from the burning stretch of your hole against the girth of his shadow self.

Hissing, you thrashed against the sigil, “get OFF OF ME!” Pushing against the floor you barely got your shoulders an inch off the ground when you felt a nth appendage graze sloppily over your clit. You stilled, suddenly remembering your end of the deal. Your promise to the demon now circling your clit with his shadow. If you couldn’t do this, then the entire filming was for nothing.

“Don’t forget to breath. I can’t have you dying on me just yet, sweetheart.” The static was slowly building in the air around you again, a silent threat.

Your hand shot to your mouth, trying to smother the depraved sounds being fucked out of you. The tentacle in your pussy was now ramming against your cervix, curving and bending as it repeatedly forced its way in and out of you. The room was quiet, except for the slick, sticky sound of the tentacle coated in your fluids pulling nearly completely out of you before smashing back in. The pace was slow and cruel, but the pressure on your clit was fast and hard. Your mind was starting come undone, your thoughts splintering. You couldn’t focus on anything anymore, all over your body was pressure, pleasure, massaging, pushing, and pulling. 

“Ah ah, that won’t do.” Alastor practically sang the words as an appendage pulled your hands from your mouth and brought them to the small of your back. 

You whimpered, trying to find a balance between the overstimulation and the need to not let them see how much you were getting off on this. You needed to hate it more. Hate him more. Your cheek stuck to the wood of the floor as drool leaked from your open mouth, unable to keep it closed any longer. 

“I’ll—” Your strength was nearly gone, but you managed to knock your upper body around the sigil, smearing the still wet blood across your chest. You only managed to whisper into the flooring a quiet, “I’ll fucking kill you for this.”

The tentacles stopped, for a second you felt tears sting your eyes at the loss of friction. A loud screech made you wince, but you had no time to question it as your body was violently flipped. Your hips were slammed down onto the ground, held tightly by a tentacle around your waist. The back of your head ached as it was jostled in the turn. The shadows on your thighs now seemed determined to bruise you as they constricted around your skin. 

“What was that, dear?” The tentacle in your pussy seemed to swell inside you, the force of the thrusts picking up in intensity. He was ramming into your body with such fervor you felt the skin of your ass chaffing on the wooden grain beneath you.  “Speak up, now”, you heard him exhale forcefully, his controlled appearance hanging on by a thread.

“I-”, your mouth opened to continue your resistance when a new sensation stopped you. A second tentacle was trying to squirm its way into your heat, just above the now uncomfortably thick one twisting around inside of you. The pressure on your stomach from the force made you feel sick, but the devoted ministrations on your clit had your legs twitching against the restraints. “Ah–! no, wai-” It managed to slip itself into you, and with no hesitation it was pressing against your g-spot in a matching rhythm to the tentacle swiping over your swollen clit.

You’d never before made a sound like the one that was pulled from your throat. It was ugly and animalistic and took you by surprise. Still struggling to catch your breath, you threw your head back. You were losing control. As your body was rocked against the ground, the blindfold got caught in the friction and slipped down your nose. 

Bringing your head back up, you finally locked eyes with your new master. 

“Alas-” Another chilly tentacle came to your neck and began to lightly squeeze. You could only breathe out the rest of his name as your eyes met with his. He stood some feet from you, just outside of the sigil, barely on the set at all. He seemed nonplussed, antlers looming over you and suit perfectly neat, except one detail. His pupils dilated when you finally set your eyes onto his. The grip on your neck only stopped tightening when you stomped your foot down in fear of passing out. You didn’t break eye contact, a fire burning in you that told him no matter what he did you wouldn’t be broken. That look in your eyes, the contempt mixed with overwhelming pleasure made Alastor shift one foot in front of the other in an effort to better conceal the erection straining against the zipper of his pants. 

“Mmmhhh–” You finally broke contact as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pressure beneath your belly was building, a tightness threatening to snap. But this wasn’t like before, this wasn’t like when you were alone in your bed with your own hand. It felt like too much, your heart was pounding so hard you thought you’d really die. There was no way your body could continue this much longer, your heart would surely give out.

“Please–” You needed him to stop, the ghostly hand on your throat, the two tentacles pressing against your cervix and g-spot, the unrelenting pressure on your clit. It was too much, it was too sensitive. “I’m sorry, please. Pleeea-” you gritted your teeth, thighs twitching as the muscles in your core tightened.

“Going to cum, my little doe?” Through gritted teeth of his own Alastor asked you as if you had any choice in the matter. He forced your knees up to your shoulders, allowing the tentacles to reach new depths. 

“AaaaHH” You convulsed, “I’m yours, Alastor!” You moaned, willing to say anything to stop the overwhelming feeling as the coil snapped, you were orgasming on this demon’s shadow and for the love of all that was unholy he wouldn’t fucking let up. You did what he said, but he wasn’t stopping. His thrusts didn’t slow, your clit was throbbing and your body shaking uncontrollably. All defiance was dead, your fire snuffed out. Your eyes were glazed and unfocused. Your head hit the floor again as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight, “It’s all yours. My soul is yours! Please- sto-” Another orgasm was being fucked out of you, no recovery from the first. “I can’t, I can’t” Your jaw locked, the way your cunt was spasming and tightening around his shadow appendages nearly pushed them out of your body with the strength of your first forced orgasm. The lights in the room flickered and popped, the candles blew out with a sudden gust, static drowned out your voice from everyone but Alastor as you screamed through the second orgasm. A green light erupted from the smeared sigil beneath you, blinding the crew and onlookers. “My body is yours! My soul! It’s all yours. I give you all of me, Alastor! Alastor!!” Your vision went spotty, and your throat seemed to close around your voice. Your face was red with the strain of your orgasm. You’d never felt unrelenting pleasure like that before and in that moment you’d have given him absolutely anything he wanted from you. Everything. It was his. You were his. He owned you inside and out.

The bullying of your cunt finally calmed after your orgasm began to edge away, your breath no longer stuck in your throat. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down to a lazy pace as what few lights managed to survive flickered back to life. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over your wrecked body to Alastor. His eyes were wild, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead. His smile was manic, sinister almost. He looked truly demonic. A wave of fear carried a chill down your spine.

The tentacles withdrew, the sudden loss making you feel colder somehow now than before. They had taken on your own heat and matched your temperature so perfectly, now your body felt empty. You felt naked. Your cunt was still clenching, but around nothing at all. It felt…like something was missing now. Your body seemed to be upset at the loss of contact. It made your stomach turn.

You flinched when the radio demon approached you, but instead of tearing you to pieces like his grin had promised, he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it over your body. You hadn’t realized the dress was torn and lying beneath you in a wet pile of blood and sweat. The confusion must have been evident on your face, because Alastor’s appearance shifted. Antlers now small, if not tiny between his ears. His eyes a red and pink, lids half closed. His smile was just a line across his face, no teeth at all. He looked like a gentleman, had you not known what he had just done to your pussy you’d have thought him incapable of such impropriety. 

“Good job, my little doe.” He whispered before you were handed a glass of water by a tall stranger. 

“Wow, you’re kind of natural at this babe. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages.  Are you okay?” You took the water from him but didn’t open your mouth to reply, instead transfixed on his appearance. You’d only seen Val and Alastor until now. “You can call me Angel. We’ll get you home soon. I swear.”

Your eyes flitted to Alastor’s, did he know? He must have, he must have felt it. Of course he knew. In those final moments, you hadn’t been acting. Not an ounce of your pleasured responses were disingenuous. Not a single word a lie.

Alastor helped you to your feet as Angel placed a robe over your shoulders. Alastor hummed as he put his jacket back on, a satisfied sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a song. 

Val sat in his director’s chair with his legs crossed, mouth open. His cigarette was mostly ash, delicately lingering on the stub.

Alastor placed a hand on the small of your back as you were guided to the door. Looking over his shoulder he grinned to Val, “It seems our deal is done here, Valentino. She’s mine, in perpetuity.”

(Part two)

༻Masterlist༺

[puppeteered-poetry]

Can you write a sad little fanfic with Acter Mark x Darkiplier?

Sorry this took so long, yes you may.

    Hatred and Love are often thought as opposites, but for Dark and their foe, it was more akin to close relatives. 

    Perhaps it would seem odd to most, how they acted, but after a century straight of opposition it’s difficult not to have some developments.

    Dark gripped the ground with all their strength, chest heaving from the exertion. They were exhausted, their form unstable, flickering and distorting as Mark stood above them, smug.

    “Feel better? Got it out of your system?” The Actor cooed, the win making him nauseating.

    Dark tried to answer, to respond, get up, attack again. Anything. They opened their mouth, and black blood dribbled down their chin before they slumped over.

    “... Dark…” He sighed, slinging them over his shoulder. “You overdid it again.”

    Mark carried them inside the Manor, trying not to wince as their back made sounds of crunching glass. Up the stairs, and into Mark’s bedroom, he tucked them in.

    “... Why do you do this to yourself?” Mark asked under his breath as he slipped his shoes off, climbing in beside them.

    “Why do you?” They ask in return. “I only reflect you.”

    Mark sighed, pulling them closer, tucking their head beneath his chin. “You’re more than just a mirror, Damien.”

    Dark flickered again, phantoms of themself screaming with agonizing rage. It takes all of their will not to fracture further.

    “Don’t call me that.” They growl.

    “Shit- I’m sorry…” Mark winced, his heart dropping. 

    Damien was dead. Celine was dead. Mark saw to that.

    “... I’m… Sorry about a lot of things.” 

    “Are you genuinely apologizing, or self-flagellating until I console you?” 

    Mark laughed, petting Dark’s hair. It was a good question. He wished he knew the answer.

    “... Spending the night here?” Mark changed the subject. “I could make chocolate chip pancakes.”

    Dark coughed, glass chipping and going flying with the force. They clutched their chest, finally nodding.

    “Yeah… We’ll make a day of it, if you want.” He forced himself to smile, shame burning his cheeks. “We’ll watch garbage on TV.”

    “I have to work tomorrow.” 

    Mark nodded, immediately regretting asking. Dark owed him nothing. All the aching loneliness in his ribcage was his own damn fault.

    “... Dark…?” He finally spoke, trying to force the words out before he froze. “... I love you.”

    Dark was silent for what felt like an eternity. How were they supposed to respond to this? Heroes don’t love their villains. They weren’t sure they could love anyone.

    “... Good night, dearly Detested.” They whisper, rolling over.

    Dark tried to ignore how it felt to listen to Mark try to muffle his sobs.