#I had to stop otherwise I will work on this for an eternity trying to achieve perfection

[alksnd]

Silk!!! Adorned!! Vil!!

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[fleur-bbyy]

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL

rating: 18+, minors DNI. ageless blogs are blocked.

warnings: sex sex sex, porn!au, no quirks, fake stepcest, fake stuckage, afab reader, reader is described to have a big ass, sex work, only fans mentions, breeding kink, pet names, use of oniichan, daddy kink, lots of porn barely any plot, all characters are aged up to 21+

katsuki is an ass man and no one can convince me otherwise.

part two.

“hey! what’re you doing step-bro?”

you were trying your best to play up the horrible script you were given. especially since you were hungry and had been on this set for five fucking hours already and you’re just now getting to the fucking. after what felt like an eternity of makeup, wardrobe, and pictures taken for the cover you were just ready to put your tits back in your tiny tank top and stop with this corny-ass scenario. stepcest stuckage.

of fucking course.

you were coming up on a year in the porn industry after being scouted from amateur sites and quickly shooting up in popularity as a pro. you were one of the many amateurs who had become pro in the last year and shot up fast in rankings, being dubbed a member of the “golden eight.” you had shot multiple times with six of the other seven, even becoming good friends with most of them and doing side stuff on your onlyfans with the burly red-head that people seem to adore seeing you with. occasionally filming some with the pinkette girl, too.

this was your first time shooting with the last out of the other seven, katsuki bakugo. famously called ‘dynamight’ because of his explosive personality and his ability to give equally as explosive orgasms to men and women both.

“cut! luxe, arch your back more baby. really need’ta see that ass pop.” your director shouted as your coordinator came to position you in a way that pleased him. luxe was your stage name when you were still amateur, and it just always stuck around. nobody in your agency wanted to change your name as luxe was synonymous with the girl that had a ‘fat, peachy ass’ and could ‘squirt buckets.’ you rolled your eyes at the camera that was positioned in the front loading dryer you were “stuck” in. they insisted it’d be best to catch your reactions close up.

“dynamight! you still good back there?” the director shouted once again as the coordinator finished up her work.

“yeah, just hard as a fuckin’ rock and ready to get the fuck on with it.”

“wouldn’t expect any less from you!” you were graciously warned about the blonde’s brash personality, even going as far to meet up with him a time or two before the shoot just so you’d be aware. and boy, were they right. always shouting obscenities and such vulgarity that is made seasoned pornstars blush, but you both seemed to get along due to your shared hatred of corny, half-scripted shoots and directors who think they have the next big video. dynamight was known for being a rough dom. always keen to leaving bruises with how hard he’ll grip the hips of whoever he’s getting down with and extremely fond of hickies. unfortunately for the two of you, he wasn’t allowed to mark you up this time.

you huffed loudly as your director kept going on and on about how great this was gonna be and how amazing it is to have two of the top stars in his video.

“yeah, yeah, fantastic. now can we get on with it? his viagra’s gonna wear off before he gets any action and my pussy will dry up so fast the sahara will be envious.” you half-yelled so you were able to heard from the your confines in the dryer. you heard the blonde behind you laugh, lightly brushing one of his rough hands against the exposed skin on your ass, sending a shiver down your spine and into your aching core.

the camera-man finally started filming and you saw the red light of your camera that was catching your face light up as the director gave the thumbs up. you once again repeated your corny-ass mandatory lines and you finally felt his fingers push your soaked panties to the side. you relaxed a bit, knowing that everything from here was basically free reign for the two of you. only a few more required lines from him.

“look how wet you fuckin’ get from your oniisan. only dirty fuckin’ sluts act like this.” he slapped your under-stimulated clit and gently moved his fingers up and down your soaked cunt. you moaned loudly. genuinely mewls and whines escaped your lips as he kneaded the fat of your famous ass. you couldn’t tell if you were just so needy or if your colleague behind you was just that fucking good.

it didn’t help that he was pretty fucking attractive, either. you were practically swimming in your juices the first time you met. ready to drop your pants and give it to him like you were on the casting couch.

you felt his cockhead circling your tight entrance as you whined for him. big, genuine whines. you had never been so eager to be fucked on camera, something about him enamored you. you felt the smallest little bit of his fat tip slip in your folds, but he stopped there.

“say it.”

“w-what?”

“say it. tell me you’re my little whore. oniichan’s personal slut. just using you to keep my dick wet.” he gripped your hips with his strong hands to keep you from throwing your hips back onto him, not like katsuki would mind. he thinks you’re pretty and sexy and has been waiting so long to sink his dick into your pretty folds. he’s fucked his right fist so many nights to your videos on your onlyfans, loving that you weren’t staged to do anything. that it was just you.

he’s also admitted multiple times on his social media that he is definitely an ass man and practically creamed his pants when he got the call that you were shooting together.

“fuck yes! i’m your whore, oniichan! please please please fuck me!” and with that he roughly slapped your ass and unceremoniously slammed his length into your cunt, resulting in a loud moan from you that could probably be heard from the main audio system. he let a rough growl escape from his throat and smirked when your pussy tightened around him. your walls were so warm and inviting, like his cock was made for you.

“fuck yes, baby. look at you taking your brother so, so good hah slutty pussy suckin’ me right in fuck. you wanted this didn’t you?” his movements were quick, rough, and calculated. the man inside you had turned animalistic as soon as his heavy, aching cock got a kiss of your sweet insides. almost immediately finding that spongy spot inside you that made you feel like you could let go already. he bullied his fat cock into your tight hole like he owned it. like you were his personal fucktoy.

“ohmygod yes… fuck please please please.” you babbled, not having to do much work to play your reactions up for your camera. he genuinely just felt so good, so perfect inside your warm cunt. it’d only been a few moments and you were already drunk off the way he slid in an out of you, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before.

sweat was already slicking up katsuki’s body and sparse blonde hairs stuck to his now-shiny forehead. the sight of his thick cock disappearing inside the co-worker of his dream’s pussy had him feeling like he could bust his nut already. his ruby red eyes bore into you, watching the way your ass jiggled every time his pelvis met the area where you butt and thighs met. he wished he could see your little fucked-out face. he so desperately wanted to watch as your pretty mouth let out those whiny and desperate moans, just for him.

just for him.

he usually didn’t, but he was definitely watching this video once it’s out, so desperately wanting to know what your sweet face looked like as he fucked you like a feral man.

“atta girl, little minx aren’cha? i bet you got stuck here on purpose just so you could get your step-brother to fuck you senseless.” he fucked into your dripping pussy harder after the director gave the green light, he too looked like he could bust in his jeans just from the sight of two attractive people fucking before him. it filled katsuki’s already full ego even more.

“god yes daddy wanted you s’fuckin’ bad!” daddy. the five letter word replayed in his head over and over again. it filled him with such an animalistic possession to know that you did do some research of your own, how else would you have known he goes crazy over that little name?

“oh fuck, callin’ me daddy now, eh? you filthy fuckin’ girl- oh shit!” he had to throw his head back from the pleasure as you threw your ass back against him, fucking yourself on his cock. your mewls growing louder as you split yourself open on him and he felt your already-tight walls begin to clamp down harder, squeezing his dick just right. he used the hand that wasn’t pushing your thong to the side to reach around and rub circles on your swollen, neglected clit.

“please daddy… i need to cum fuck i need to cum!” you loudly moaned, almost at a pitch similar to screaming. katsuki’s shit-eating smirk only grew louder. the two of you were so engrossed in each other that you both didn’t notice the director yelling cut and the clapperboard being used to signal the end of a take. you didn’t even realize that you had strayed away from your directions.

“c’mon babygirl… cum on this cock fuck! wan’ you to make a mess of your oniichan. keep fuckin’ yourself back on me like that and daddy’ll paint your insides white ngh shit.” the mix of his thick dick, skilled fingers, and word choice making the fire burning in your belly to engulf your body in heat. clear liquid gushing from your pussy and warming katsuki’s pelvis and legs. he looked down just as the last bit of liquid shot out from your spent sex.

“oh god baby, YES,” he groaned deeply and continued thrusting into you, chasing his own release. he used your body ruthlessly, like an animal in desperate heat, “fuck baby… ‘m cummin’ ‘m cummin’ please god let me cum inside please please.”

you’d never heard the rough dom whimper before, but the sound was music to your still-ringing ears. you let out a “yes yes yes” to let him know it was okay to cum inside. with a few more sloppy, rough thrusts, he was spurting his white hot seed inside your perfect pussy. you were both out of breath, sweaty, and fucked out. he still wasn’t fucked out enough and managed to give your ass a few light slaps, still enamored with how it shook and jiggled. you collapsed inside the machine, legs drooping and letting your ass fall once he pulled out. you were trembling and so exhausted you could probably fall asleep inside this uncomfortable-ass dryer. ready to dream about the best dicking you’ve ever had in your goddamn life.

after you both got cleaned up and half-chewed out by the director for going off script and ‘ruining his shoot,’ it was time to finally relax and go home. your bathtub practically screaming your name from home. before that, though, you met katsuki in the stars only lounge.

he wore a muscle tank that showed off his beautiful body that he’d spent years sculpting in the gym and a pair of classic grey sweats that showed off the imprint of his half-chub, you assumed the viagra still hadn’t completely wore off.

“can you believe the fucker had the audacity to say we ruined his shitty video? if anything we made that half-assed shit better.” you could tell he was prideful of his work due to the emphasis he put on his words. you lightly laughed, watching him scroll on his phone to catch up with the world since you both weren’t allowed it for a few hours. you saw his strong hands tracing lazy circles on his thigh.

“we should’ve wrote that script, shown them how it’s really done. we’re the ones that know how to trend on the hub, anyways.” it was his turn to let out a laugh this time. you sat down next to him on the black couch, still eyeing his cock and fingers that you already wanted back inside you. your gawking not going unnoticed by the blonde.

“see somethin’ you like?” he looked at you through his eyelashes and smirked.

“hell yeah,” your eyes traced his body, admiring every curve and detail, “i think it’s quite unfair that you got to see this hot bod and all i got to see was the inside of a dryer.” he gave you an amused look and gestured down to his semi-hard cock.

“whaddya say about round two in my trailer?”

the company ended up using the video the two of you supposedly “ruined,” it was trending in the top ten for a month straight due to its ‘raw intensity’ and ‘believable passion.’

you and katsuki were now in high demand to work with each other, jobs that you never denied. :)

part two.

[writingwithfolklore]

Writing Characters with Powers

                This is sort of a part 2 to the post I made here, in which powers/magic isn’t a part of the world but is a part of your characters. The difference being that powers or magic is unusual to the world, but has somehow appeared in your protagonist.

                Just like in worldbuilding, we need to establish the rules of the power and how it can be used.

1. It needs a limit

No matter how powerful your characters are, they need to have a limit to what they can do. This limit allows for tension and conflict, whereas a character who can do anything isn't challenged by anything, and thus can't change.

                Limits could be physical, mental, or otherwise magical. Maybe using powers is a bit like consuming poison, or being exposed to radiation, or running a marathon in a second. Maybe it’s slowly killing your protagonist, but they have to use it to achieve what they want. I read a story about a character who could heal anything, but would suffer some or all of the damage to do it.

                Maybe it’s warping their mind, or confusing reality, or distancing them from their loved ones. Does using it make them feel negative, even evil? Or does using it make them feel powerful to a fault—in danger of becoming the thing they’re trying to destroy?

                Lastly, your limit could be a part of the magic system. Powers just stop working, as though there’s an invisible mana meter that runs out. Or it’s like working out, use it less and it becomes less powerful, push it too far and it breaks.

2. Your powers are well defined

This is similar to putting a limit on powers, but is more around the power itself rather than the character. You, as the writer, need to know exactly what your character can and cannot do. If your character has fire powers, how big can they make the fire? Can they use it even when it’s humid out, or raining? Is it a fire that can be put out by water, or is it magical and eternal?

                If your character can teleport, how far? Do they need to see the area or can they teleport somewhere they can’t see? Can they teleport somewhere they’ve never been? Can they teleport out of being tied up? If so, how can they choose to take their jewelry or clothing with them?

                Make rules. Make sure you know exactly what your characters are capable of at any point in the story. Make sure your readers are aware of these rules and limitations from the get-go, and if your character is able to develop greater power, make sure it's also established with how they are able to do so.

3. There’s a risk

In a world without magic, but a character with it, what’s the risk? Consider how society would react to learning your character has magic if they don’t already know. If they do know, how has that impacted your character’s life? This step is all about worldbuilding around a world unused to magic. Who knows, who can’t find out, and what is the risk if your protagonist mixes them up?

This step is all about creating stakes. What experiences has your character had with others surrounding their power? Positive or negative?

Any other considerations when making a character with powers? Let me know in the reblogs and comments!

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

Part Two

[vaguely-concerned]

...the 'almond room' thing in the unwanted guest IS a reference to/play on words on amygdala, right? (amygdala comes from the greek word for almond!) I didn't read that wrong? it is stupid sexy Ianthe coyly inviting Palamedes into a different chamber of her brain, as it were?

(also the pieces of meat -- the feeding or kissing, it's hard to say which of it all -- being present right from the beginning... ianthe DOES know exactly what has happened to her, doesn't she. palamedes is just cutting his way through her layers of denial and repression all merciless and scalpel-like to get her to admit it. or, she knows subconsciously at least -- each person comes in and feeds her something that she's helpless to stop from becoming a part of her even in her coffin, with bloody kisses. oh baby love is feeding me bad meat and I have no choice but to swallow it down. like yeah I suspect that is how human contact can feel when your sense of self and boundaries developed to be a specific kind of Fucked Up lol. that shit could make a person dream of being a diamond in a glass of wine; perfect, inviolable, untouchable, eternally separate and safe. In the words of Andrea Gibson in Prism:

They say the womb is where we learn love is knowing the cord that feeds you could at any moment wrap around your neck

that is quite literally ianthe's first introduction to love -- her sister, a cord around her neck. Corona is Ianthe's other self, a second soul running around outside of her body, and she seems to consider herself as responsible for (and entitled to) the preservation of Corona's soul as her own. the way this mirrors that growing up, Ianthe had to be two necromancers in one body to let them stay together. (twins and ghosts all the way down I guess.) she's still just trying to do the same thing, I think, she's simply put on some bigger boots about it. the central problem of lyctorhood, self vs. connection/love, rears its head once again -- Ianthe existentially wants total self-contained self-sufficiency, perfect control, sovereign sway and masterdom over her soul... but she wants that at the same time as being in uninterrupted (uninterruptible!), eternal and indelible intimacy with her sister, whose soul also cannot be allowed to change. which, you know. freedom and love don't coexist the way you want them to, Ianthe, no matter how clever you are there won't be a way to get what you want. (especially not with a sister whose idea of what love is seems to go more towards being consumed, made one, by whatever violence necessary -- 'she could have taken me'.) man. Ianthe is a spectacular and ongoing piece of work, but sometimes it's hard to see how she could ever have turned out otherwise considering the conditions she was born and raised under haha.

the two-way street of the horror of digestion, whether you're the devourer or the devouree. part of you in me, part of me in you, whether either of us likes it or not we're both changed by this. bad news: you can't get out of interconnectedness by finding the cleverest loophole around it, ianthe. nice try, though)

[done-with-the-shit]

->Relationship Headcanons<-

Chuuya x Reader

This is the first time I write headcanons so it may not be very good.. Also English is not my first language, please keep that in mind while reading! Ty and enjoy♡

Anime: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Chuuya Nakahara

Note: GN!Reader

///SFW///

I imagine that after an eternity of denying his feelings, he angrily confessed to you without even realising he did😃

Like you'd be minding your own business and he just randomly comes to you screaming in your face about how he hates the fact that he loves you or something...

After that he will most likely lock himself in his office and regret his life decisions😕

But you will go to him and also confess your undying obsession love for him so it's all fine!

Anyways as for when you two start actually dating he would be such a lovely boyfriend♡

Very romantic for sure~

Like definitely buys you flowers 'cause why not?

He'd also spoil the hell out of you.

He works for the mafia after all so money isn't a problem for him😉

If you are taller than him please don't tease him!! (my man's only 5'3🤭)

After all he is still growing!

Lots of PDA.. that's all I'm gonna say

He enjoys taking you out to fancy dinners, but he also loves spending nights in, just watching TV and maybe drinking some wine with you~

You are the only person who can wear his hat and coat^-^

He secretly likes to see you in his clothing but you didn't hear that from me~

Chuuya is very good at cooking😌 so if you can't cook he will do it for you... he may even teach you if you want!

He also loves all the affection you give him!!

Even if you just hug or kiss him he will be melting in your hands literally

Being his usual self fucking tsundere he won't admit that he likes cuddling with you, but don't be fooled, he very much enjoys being spooned and loved by you!

Chuuya needs to be the little spoon! My boy deserves all the love you can give him!! (Just don't tell Dazai 'cause he won't stop bothering our chibi about it😔)

He's also secretly scared of hurting you with his ability, so he's super careful around you.

All in all he is such a softy with us🥺

Anyways.. let's get to the interesting stuff~~

///NSFW///

Let's be honest this boy is a fucking switch😤

So I imagine him as a soft dom and a braty sub (don't ask why though👀)

And he is definitely open to trying all your kinks you nasty whore😒

But who am I kidding I have no right to judge..

Anyways.. I bet he has a knife and bandage kink

I mean just imagine yourself all tied up with this small man on top of you!!

Or the other way around😏

He enjoy biting you.. (that's all I'm gonna say)

I personally think that he only dom's in two occasions..

First being if you had a rough day and he just wants to make you feel better~

Another reason for you to let him dom is when he is angry at something or someone.. yk to help him relieve stress (if he doesn't ask you to fuck him instead😉)

All the other times?

Oh this boy will be begging you to fuck him while explaining how he is still the one in control denial

I mean as a said earlier he is pretty much a tsundere so..

Because of that you'd have to be someone he really, really trusts for him to let you take control

But once you get his trust? Oh boy you are in for it I'm telling you😩😩

He is going to be such a brat and would love to push you to your limit~

But don't worry he is actually pretty easy to handle

Just pin him beneath you and he will shut up..

And if he doesn't just tug at his choker! What else would he wear it for!?

Oh boy do not forget that beautiful hair of his😍

It's just made for pulling~

PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK

Do I really need to say more??

Loud? Yes..

His moans are so incredibly loud like he doesn't hold back😩😫

Edging and overstimulation?

He loves hates it.. And will not tell you otherwise

But his favourite part is the aftercare~

Baby is so tired he needs your help!!

Take him to the bathroom and give him a nice warm bath (he deserves it for being such a good boy for you😖)

Loves it when you give him a lots of kisses and cuddles afterwards~

>>MORE OF MY WORKS<<

[star-girl-05]

Together Forever??

James Wilson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

For the better part of a week you’ve noticed James has been acting suspiciously. At first you thought it was just your imagination, now though you're convinced that he’s cheating on you. It was small things at first, staying at work late, leaving the room to answer phone calls. You tried to ignore it but with his history you just couldn’t let it go. Though instead of confronting Wilson you’ve decided to question House. If Wilson’s cheating on you he would know. 

So with determined steps you make your way to House’s office. You find him bouncing his signature red ball against a wall seemingly deep in thought. Not that it, would stop you from questioning him.

He ignored you as you entered the room, his only acknowledgement is he stopped tossing his ball. “Tell me what's going on with Wilson”, House chuckles at your bluntness. Finally turning towards you. 

“Why-” you already know whatever he’s going to say is going to be complete bullshit. Just by that look on his face. 

“Don’t lie, just tell me what's going on with him.” you didn’t want to sound pathetic but you can’t help but ask him, “Is Wilson cheating on me?” you're scared to look him in the eye just waiting for whatever wisecrack he was bound to say, and he was about to but the look on your face made him stop. 

“Shouldn’t you ask him?” He of course knew what was up with Wilson, and he was definitely not cheating on you. 

“If he was cheating on me would he really admit to it?” 

“You think I would tell you, there's a code to these things Bros before hoes” He was trying to get you to leave but you were determined.

“House, tell me or... I’ll slash your motorbike tires”, yes that’s how desperate you are. House pondered your threat only for a second before finally telling you that Wilson was not cheating on you. Which in all honesty shouldn’t convince you that he wasn’t but you were so desperate for it to be true that you just believe him. Though you can’t help but ask him what other explanation there could be. Trying to eliminate any doubts you still had.

“Would you just go bother Wilson. Why he’s so infatuated with you is a mystery to me, you must be really good in bed to make up for you being so annoying.” You can't help but roll your eyes, if Wilsons so infatuated with you why is he acting so sneaky. Answering all those phone calls in another room, saying he's staying at work late only to find out he's left hours ago. All clear signs he's cheating on you. What other explanation could there be?

It all seems to click, “He’s proposing” you don’t even realize you’ve said it out loud till House responds back. 

“Wilsons going to be disappointed you figured it out, he’s been planning this for the longest time.” You can’t believe you thought he was cheating on you, when in reality he was planning on proposing. You felt like such an asshole, and now not only did you think he was a cheater but you ruined his proposal. 

There was still time you could salvage this. Wilson had no idea you knew so you could just pretend you didn't. House is sure to play along otherwise Wilson is bound to rip him apart.

Just like you predicted, House agreed to keep this a secret from Wilson. So all you had to do was act like you had no idea your sweet, perfect boyfriend was proposing. Which was harder than you anticipated since every time the two of you were together you thought he was proposing. It was honestly driving you a little insane waiting. After a week (which felt like an eternity) he popped the question, and of course you said yes.

[dreamkidddream]

Lucifer relaxing with a cup of coffee and a book while MC holds his left hand.

MC fiddling with it, slipping their fingers through his, and otherwise examining it.

Lucifer choking on his coffee when MC declares that they like his hand, but it needs a ring on it.

Reader is gender neutral!

“Excuse me?”

Lucifer has a hard time cleaning his throat, still trying to swallow the bitter coffee you made and process what you just said.

“I said that your hand is missing something very, very important-“ you lifted up your intertwined hands again, eyes squinting under the light. “-a ring obviously. Hey, what color would you want it to be anyway? Would you want it to match your nails or something different? Or maybe you would want something flashy since you’re the Avatar of Pride-“

“Do you not remember what Lord Diavolo said?” Lucifer’s tone had more bite than intended, the words of his friend denying any chance of marriage with you echoing in his mind. As much as he tried to not show it, it did get to him a bit (more than he expected, honestly). He knows that a mere ring wouldn’t change the amount of love he has for you, but still- a small, selfish part of him still hoped that he said yes.

“So? Since when has that stopped any of us?” You chuckled, lowering your hands and rubbing his ring finger gently. He could see the softened look in your eyes, and he felt himself melt even more at the sight.

“Besides, he said that we couldn’t get married- he didn’t say anything about being engaged.”

“Despite the end goal being marriage?”

“I’m fine being engaged forever if you are. And you never know, Diavolo could have a change of heart in the next hundred years- I think we could wait it out.”

Lucifer blinked, then let out a laugh at your revelation- you always found a way to keep him on his toes, even if it meant more trouble and extra work for him.

But for once, he doesn’t mind. Being bonded with you in more ways than just your pact, promising your eternal love to one another until the ends of time- it felt so intimate. The tip of his ears were already burning, and it was hard to fight the blush growing on his cheeks.

But he couldn’t fight off his genuine smile that he sent you.

“If that’s what you wish, I’ll see to it that it happens.” He brought your hand up, pressing a delicate kiss on top of it before doing the same to each of your fingers.

The sweet smile you sent Lucifer made him weak (or rather weaker) in the moment, and he mentally made a note to start making appointments at the best jewelry shops in the Devildom.

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Bella and Sister!Reader

Summary: You get dragged into dress shopping in Port Angeles with the girls, which turns out to be a good thing considering Bella is a magnet for danger! Jasper is not in this one cause it got too long!

Word Count: 3534

Warnings: some violence (self defense) and allusion to/attempted assault (Port Angeles scene) also possibly horrid writing, I've been up for 24 hours!

---

“How was the beach?”

You meet Bella at the door, fluttering around her hectically as she toes her boots off and shakes stray droplets from her coat. She hits you with a look, the ‘calm down before I walk right back out of here’ look. Smiling apologetically, you back off a few paces, though you can’t stop the habitual leg bouncing.

She obviously had something planned last night, when you talked about La Push. Waiting is not exactly your forte these days. After wasting a couple hours working, you called Alice, who hadn’t seen anything, a common occurrence when the wolves are involved somehow. So wait you did, not that it was easy. The living room is in a completely different arrangement than it was this morning.

“It was fine. It rained a bit, but everyone seemed to have fun. I think I convinced Angella to ask Eric out,” she recounts once she hangs up her coat and starts towards the living room.

“Really? Angella and Eric? Huh.” You never thought of that, but they do seem like a perfect pair. Eric’s not too crazy and Ang- Wait, she’s trying to distract you! Focusing back in you, you prod a little further, “Besides that, did anything happen? Any coincidental Jacob appearances?”

‘Coincidental’ because you know of Jacob’s little crush on your sister. If he heard about Forks kids showing up on the reservation, he’d probably show up out of pure curiosity.

“Yup.”

Hm, the shut out approach. Smart. Unfortunately for her, you are now undying, which means an eternal amount of stubborn snooping.

“How’s he?”

“Fine, Billy’s good too.”

“That’s nice.” You give her just enough time to sit down and reach for the tv remote before plopping down next to her, your next question spilling out, “What did you guys talk about?”

Bella rolls her eyes, “Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Until I figure out what you were planning last night before dad came in,” you reply, just as snarkily, “So?”

“Fine,” she huffs, “I got him to tell me about the legend behind why they don’t like the Cullens. Happy?���

“How’d you do that?” This question is just for fun.

A lot of fun, considering Bella goes positively red, pursing her lips in discomfort.

“I might have…flirted with him,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck.

Oh the poor boy. Being exposed to that so young, he’ll never be the same. And to think, Bella can actually successfully flirt! You can’t stop yourself from snickering, which makes Bella look even more miserable. 

“It’s alright, Bells.” You try to reassure her, but there’s no hiding the amusement in your voice, and she just glares at you. “Sometimes you just have to use your feminine wiles to get your way, you know?”

She groans, head dropping into her hands. Her voice comes out muffled when she growls, “I hate you so much.”

The laugh you let out is truly a cackle, completely evil in intent, “You could never.”

“I am this close.” She holds out her fingers, except they are pressed firmly together, which just makes you laugh harder.

It takes a moment for you to calm down again. It’s a good thing you don’t need air, otherwise you’d be gasping, ribs aching. But now you can laugh as much as you want, as long as you want. A weird perk, but one you enjoy.

“So,” you start again, wiping a nonexistent tear from your eye, “What did you learn?”

Bella shifts, just enough to cast you a sidelong glance. Her eyes, thoughtful, calculating, seem to look straight through you as she considers her words carefully. You wish she would just spit it out, but it’s not too hard to guess what she might be thinking.

“He said that the Cullens are some enemy clan, and that they have some treaty with the Quileutes that keep them off the reservation,” she finally explains, though her tone is clipped.

“An enemy clan, huh?” 

That makes sense. You get the feeling that there’s more to what Jacob said, something about what you are, but you don’t press further. Whether she figures it out or not, you’re not too worried anymore. Alice’s visions always come true, and your stubbornness alone will deter the more gruesome ending.

You look at her face. There’s no fear in her expression as she meets your gaze. So maybe he didn’t say too much. But there’s still something. She has to know something. You catch yourself, humming at the realization that you want her to know something.

Maybe the quicker she figures it out, the quicker that future will come true.

You give her knee a soft squeeze and push yourself back to your feet, “Whelp, I’m glad you had fun, Bells. You should talk to Jacob more often, he’s a smart kid.”

Her brow furrows, confusion flooding her face at your conspiratorial grin. With a quick wink, you dart upstairs, leaving Bella positively bewildered much to your own amusement.

---

Not much changes the days following the conversation. The weather gets a little sunnier, meaning the Cullens don’t go to school and you get a few off days with Jasper. Bella doesn’t mention their absence, much to your surprise.

It’s almost like things are normal for a little bit.

She even invites you to Port Angeles for prom dress shopping, which prompted the question-

“You’re going to prom?!”

And the subsequent answer.

“No.” Said with such disdain, you let it drop immediately.

Even so, that’s how you find yourself here, watching Angela and Jessica try on dresses while Bella stares out the window, lost in thought. It’s a good thing that you know the girls from your time in Forks High, otherwise this would be so awkward.

Maybe that’s why she just invited you, to spare herself the pain of doing it alone.

“I like that one on you, Ang,” you chirp, “Lavender is totally your color.”

“Yah?” She smiles meekly, looking down at herself.

“Totally! Don’t you think Bella?” You give your sister a hard elbow to the ribs, making her jump and glare at you before turning to her friend.

“Definitely, Angela, you look beautiful.” At least she’s trying.

The two more normal girls go back to fussing over their dresses. Watching them gives you a dull sense of nostalgia. It’s been so long since you’ve done something like this with humans. Since you’ve been able to.

“So, (Y/n), are you still dating Jasper Hale?” Jessica suddenly pipes up, eyeing you with poorly hidden jealousy.

Ah, that, you haven’t missed. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bella smothering a smug smile. Karma.

“I am,” you reply shortly.

“Is that weird?” She presses as she stares at herself in the mirror, messing with a pair of white gloves. “Ya know, since you graduated and he’s still in school?”

“No. I skipped a grade, so we’re about the same age.” Not even close, technically, but appearance wise it is. 

“Still-”

Thankfully, or unfortunately, she’s cut off by a sudden knock on the window. A group of men walk by, whooping and catcalling. Angela and Jessica flinch and shuffle away from the glass, faces twisting with discomfort. You frown, a sudden flare of anger flushes through you.

You jump in front of the girls, flipping the bird at the men as you bark a low, “Piss off!”

It doesn’t do much to damper their attitudes, since they’re probably too buzzed to notice the typically unnerving edge you carry as a vampire. Anger simmers low and hot in your gut. What happened to common decency?

“That is uncomfortable,” Jessica mumbles.

“But really cool, of you, (Y/n),” Angela murmurs, voice touched with awe, “Thanks.”

“Oh please, it’s only decent,” you grumble and slump back into your seat, “I can’t believe that.”

You’re tempted to go rip their heads off, but that wouldn’t look too good.

“It’s disgusting,” Bella agrees, looking just as frustrated.

You fall into a tense silence. It’s tense to you at least, but that’s probably because you’re watching the window like a hawk, as if they’ll come back at any moment. For their sake, you hope they don’t. Their death would not be pleasant. No, you’d make sure-

“What do you think of this one, Bella?”

Oh right, dress shopping. Probably not the best time to get swept up in murderous thoughts.

“It looks great.”

You snort. Is it possible to sound less enthusiastic? 

“You’ve said that about, like, the last five dresses,” Jessica says with a grimace-like smile.

Bella shrugs, “I thought they were all pretty great.”

Angela, who’s observant nature rivals even Edward’s, picks up on her reluctance easily, “You’re not really into this, are you?”

“I actually just really wanted to go to this bookstore.”

You perk up a little in interest, eyeing your sister, “A bookstore?”

She noticably avoids your stare as she nods. Curious. Maybe something to do with her talk with Jacob?

“Well let’s go to this bookstore of yours then! We’ll catch you girls at the restaurant?” A charismatic smile and they agree easily. You tug Bella up by her arm, though she quickly jostles out of your grip with a soft glare.

“You don’t have to come,” she grumbles.

“Hmmm, stay here dress shopping for a prom I’m not going to or accompany my twig-like sister around a dangerous town?” You pretend to mull it over, rubbing your chin theatrically, and Bella rolls her eyes. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go with the ladder. For your safety, of course.”

“I can hold my own.”

Swan stubbornness.

“A gust of wind could knock you over, Bells. Or worse, a nice patch of wet concrete.”

No need to remind her of all the times you’ve watched her trip on nothing. The girl was frightfully uncoordinated. Plus, you’d heard word of some strange “animal” attacks nearby. It’s safer if you’re with her.

Though the trip turns out to be mostly uneventful. You walk to a small store, Thunderbird and Whale Bookstore, who’s clerk gives you a weird look as you puruse the indigenous literature. Not completely abnormal, given your appearance. Just abnormal enough to make you wonder, not too abnormal that people ask. But the legends of their people definitely make you more conscious of your human habits. 

Breathe. In. Out. Blink. Shuffle.

Until he focuses on Bella as she comes up to him with a book.

You peer over her shoulder at the cover. Quileute Legends. Seems you right.

She shifts, blocking your sight as she tucks the book to her chest. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you’re back on the street. The restaurant shouldn’t be too far.

“So…Quileute legends?” 

“Yep.”

You huff, “You’re so boring sometimes, Bella.”

She meets you tick for tick, “You’re so annoying sometimes, (N/n).”

Unconsciously, you catch the sound of heavy footsteps down a nearby road.

“That’s my job,” you chirp, slinging an arm over her shoulders, to draw her close, just to be careful.

“I thought you’re job was to teach me about makeup and boys and all that,” she snorts back.

The footsteps get louder.

Pretending to be playful, you pull her hood up, synching it over part of her face, “What do you want to know, hm?”

Bella looks at you, glare equal parts amused and irritated, until she catches the faintest glimmer of unease in your eyes. You smile, but it’s forced, too stiff, unnarturally sharp. She grip the book closer to her chest. As you push her into an alley, she catches sight of the two men walking where you had. 

And they catch sight of the two of you. A glint sparks in their eyes. An all too familiar one. The hunt has begun.

“Keep walking, Bells, please.” You urge, voice tight.

Their gaze burns on the back of your neck, much like it had at the dress store, dripping with hunger. It brings back every memory of walking through Port Angeles alone. The fear, gripping your mace with white fingers, keys held like claws in your other hand. All because men like them think they are entitled to touch touch touch-

Rage simmers up your throat.

Any other day you could show them what that fear is like. How it feels to be hunted. But you’re too aware of Bella tucked under your arm, one hand curling around your wrist so tight, it would break if you weren’t made of marble. She would see. As much as you want her to know, this is not how you want her to figure it out.

So you clamp down on the rage. Dismembering them might not be the best solution anyways.

Though it sounds more appealing as you step out of the alley and watch the last of the drunken men slither out from the shadows. Disgusting snakes. They were waiting for you.

“Hey, where you running to?”

“There they are.”

Bella flinches, and you envision their blood spilled over the pavement, fizzling alongside their beer. Something inside you craves it, longs to see these men wounded in the same way they hurt young women. But you keep it locked down. Not yet. Not unless it’s necessary, you snarl to yourself.

“Stay close to me, Bella,” you murmur, arm like a metal guard around her shaking, frail shoulders. 

The girl merely nods. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, like a china doll.

You will protect her. At all costs.

Head kepts low, you try to force yourself forward, through the men, but they close in like vultures around you.

“Woah, woah, woah, where are you going?” 

“Yah, why don’t you hang out with us?” They chorus in agreement.

Your eyes dart around, looking for any way to escape. There’s maybe ten men, and you feel your throat tighten with each step they take towards you. With each step, Bella’s heartrate spikes, panic flickering over her features. You pull her impossibly closer.

You go rigid when a scorchingly hot, sweaty hand gropes your butt. Snarling, you slap it away, disgust burning a pit in your gut.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you warn, though your eyes flicker between their identical, sickening smirks, unable to tell who did it. If Jasper were here, they’d all die for it. They still might.

“Oh, she doesn’t like that.”

“Feisty one, eh?”

“What about this one?”

Everything slows down for just a split second.

Another reaching hand, palm covered in sweat and beer, nails rimmed with dirt, skin smudged with oil. Ready to touch. Ready to take whatever it wants. Reaching for your sister.

Fast - too fast - you block his way. Bella gasps almost inaudibly behind you, but you’re too distracted as you catch the man’s wrist. His face goes stark white at your crushing grip, and it’s like the clouds clearing, his eyes setting on you for the first, real time. The fear glinting in their depths gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Keep your disgusting, filthy hands off my sister,” you hiss slowly and give his wrist a deft twist.

The satisfying pop paired with his pained yelp is music to your ears.

Alongside the sound of screeching tires.

Edward.

Bella barely has time to breathe as you shove her towards the Volvo as it skids to a stop, barely catches the imperseptible nod you give Edward as he steps out. Ignoring her sputtering, you push her into the front seat.

“What the h-”

“Just stay put,” you grumble and slide into the backseat.

You don’t watch as Edward approaches the men. You don’t care to see their faces again. If you do, you just might turn around and break the remaining wrists. Maybe that would keep them from laying their hands on any innocents again.

Eyes flickering shut, you let every muscle in your body go still. It helps somehow, like you’re resetting. You focus on the sound of Bella’s breathing, how it slows down, and how her heart eventually returns to a normal rhythm.

It picks up a fraction when Edward slips back in, slamming his door hard enough to make the car shake.

“Hold on tight,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

Bella turns to look at you, but gasps and clutches at her armrests when Edward whips right out of the lot. The man drives like usual, like he’s trying escape the depths of hell. This time, you don’t give him grief for it though.

“I should go back and rip their heads off,” Edward snarls, fingers going somehow paler around the steering wheel.

“No. Bad idea-”

“Sounds good to me-”

Bella shoots you a glare. With an unapologetic shrug, you turn to watch the trees race by. They might not have hurt the two of you, but there’s no doubt in your mind that they’ve done the same thing to some other poor soul. They deserve to rot.

“You don’t know the vile things they were thinking.”

You resist the urge to slap your forehead. Or him.

“And you do?” Bella’s brow furrows.

Cover it up, cover it up, you idiot.

“Not hard to guess.”

Better than that, Edward.

The glare he sends you through the rearview mirror is remarkably similar to your sister’s. They really will make a lovely match. Good thing they can’t have kids, what with the amount of disapproval they can put together. 

“Good thing you were visiting Port Angeles, huh Edward?” You tease with a lecherous grin pointed right back at him.

“You were just…visiting.” Bella’s voice rings with suspicioun.

Edward grinds his teeth, “Yup. Visiting.”

The word is slowly losing all meaning. 

You settle back into your seat as an awkward silence fills the cabin. If you didn’t know better, you would think Edward was just another inexperienced teenager, new to the whole love thing. Though, he still looks ready to murder those guys, based on his black glare barely focused on the road.

Remembering them brings back a new feeling. Not fear, but a remanent, the faintest lingering of anxiety that makes you grit your teeth. Dread maybe, because you can’t help but wonder - what if it happened a year ago? It’s pointless, you know, but there’s no banishing the images that come to mind.

Something hollow opens in your chest as you shake your head, as if that will dislodge them.

Edward glances back at you again. His gold eyes crease with concern, but ignoring him seems better than admitting to something so stupid. You’re a vampire now, nothing like that will happen. Instead, you let thoughts of Jasper fill your mind. His smile. His eyes. Anything to keep you distracted until you’re in his arms.

Bella must tell Edward where to go, because the next thing you know, you’re pulling up to the restaurant you were meant to meet Jessica and Angela at. They are barely walking out the door as you park. Bella jumps out, probably to greet them, and Edward goes to follow, but you stop him with a hand on his elbow. Gold eyes flash back to meet yours, still concerned and questioning.

“Thank you,” you all but whisper, squeezing his elbow gently.

His features soften, a small, genuine smile flashing over his lips, “Go. I’ll take care of Bella. Alice told Jasper about tonight, he needs you just as much right now.”

Those words wash over you like a warm tide. Somehow, the thought of Jasper in a rage over your safety, despite you being almost stronger than him now, makes you feel a little better. His protectiveness almost matches your own, though yours spans to practically everyone around you.

Speaking of. 

You slip out of the car and give Bella one last once over. She looks…okay. No bruises. No lingering fear. Like it never happened. Satisfied, you nod to yourself and pull her into a tight, almost crushing hug. She jumps, wheezing out a soft laugh.

“I’m fine, (Y/n).”

“I know, I know. Just, stay with Eddie, okay? He’ll get you food and take you home.”

Bella frowns, “Where are you going?”

“To see Jasper.” You offer her a guilty smile, though she nods her understanding. “Eddie called him right before he got to us, so he’s freaking out a little.” Another nod. “Love you, Bells.”

“Love you, too.”

One last squeeze and you pull away, offering the two other girls a short wave, “Night girls, get home safe, alright?”

“You too, (Y/n)!”

“It was nice seeing you again.”

As you turn to leave, you hear Bella flip on her heels, laughter in her voice, “Eddie?”

Edward’s following groan casts off the last of your dark clouds. You’ll pay for that somehow, you’re sure, but it’ll be totally worth the pure enjoyment it brings you. He hates it when you call him that. Almost as much as Bella hates it when you call her Tinkerbell. Another match.

The silver lining of this all is that you have a convenient reason to leave them alone together.

And based on the events of the night, Bella will probably have more questions than Edward can answer without lying. Plus the book. Everything’s lining up, it’ll just depend on how much Edward outs himself!

---

Part 5 (ending)

I hope y'all enjoyed! The next part will likely be the last! And sorry if you missed Jasper in this part :( I try to keep my stories to below 4k words, so I decided to keep that for the next part.

@avadakadabra93

@glaciuswduo

[idorukiss]

Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon of sorts of how I picture MC's relationship with Rafayel would devleop~ I'm not much of a writer but the brainrot is real and im working on making similar ones for the other boys too!

1,051 words || You can also read it on ao3

‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙ Xavier ・ Zayne ・ Sylus

There have been many different things in Rafayel's life that inspired him when it comes to his art, But nothing took control of his heart so intensely as much as you have. Like a whirlpool you shook him to his core from that first meeting, and all he wants to do is capture you on his canvas for eternity.

It really was quite the blessing with how willing you were to become his bodyguard- not only can he keep you within arms reach but you can also protect him from all the shady people after his life. Like killing 2 birds with one stone, except you were so much stronger and beautiful than any stone he’s ever set eyes on before

He absolutely felt like a flirt to you at the start with all of the compliments and casual physical touch between you guys, He just loved to say how amazing you are while enclosing you in a deep bear hug. It was strange at first you'd admit, but it never felt like he was trying to make any passes at you or act like he was expecting anything in return. Perhaps that's just how he acts with people he trusts?

When Rafayel isnt painting, you two spend a lot of time outside finding inspiration all around. He usually has a sketchbook with him scribbling away anytime he sees something interesting- the landscapes, pretty flowers, or even a parfait you guys got to share. You’ve seen some of these sketches as he works on them, it always amazes you how much detail he can capture with so few lines.

He never let you fully flip through the sketchbook however, claiming all sorts of reasons why, like that the drawings were scared of the sunlight or you had to go through many trials to be worthy. It was obvious how much he cherished it and you respected his wishes, though it would be nice to reminisce on some of the good times you guys had together again. Though its not like your phone wasn't filled to the brim with photos already

Late one night, you stop by his place to make sure he didn't need any motivation to finish a painting for a deadline set the next morning. You have confidence he could make it in time, he always did, but you want to help him as best as you can otherwise. When you arrive you spot a stunning completed painting and a Rafayel sleeping on the sofa below it- both stunning as they're illuminated by the moonlight.

Taking it upon yourself to clean up his supplies a little, just enough to not be a walking hazard of course, you spot his precious travel sketchbook on the floor. Surely he wouldn't mind if you took a little peak in it, you'd love to see how he finished the last landscape you guys saw before he locked himself up to work. As you flip through the pages you see so many familiar sights from your time together so far, but scattered around them filling maybe even more pages was many drawings of a person. Of you. All surrounded by hearts and little notes about things you've said.

When did he have a chance to draw all of these? Is this how you look to him?? Questions race your mind as your face flushes at the image of him intensely scribbling in the sketchbook as you dance around the beach being dumb. You decide to grab a pencil and add your attempt of a sketch of him in the back, signing it with a little heart of your own. It’s nowhere near his skill level but something that captures how you feel, and maybe he would get a chuckle out of it once he spots it.

You don’t realize when the casual acts of affection he started out with turn slightly more romantic- going from linking arms together to holding your hand, and you swear you feel him press little kisses on the top of your head every time he wraps his arms around you. But you don't hate it, in fact it makes your heart flutter every time you realize it

Rafayel often messages you at the most random times to meet him somewhere, usually it was because he found a stunning view and wanted to share the experience with you. Sometimes he would even show up at your apartment to whisk you away, and every time it filled you with joy. These dates and every moment you get to spend with him fill your heart with so much warmth.

One particularly warm night you were woken up by a call inviting you to the beach near his studio. It was worth crawling out of the bed at an ungodly hour, not only for the view but for him. While you were admiring the waves, he couldn't keep his eyes off you as a cautious pinky is hooked around yours. Two faces flush as you look at him, it lasts for only a moment before its interrupted by your watch.

Your face falls as you read the notification “It looks like I got a last minute mission in the morning…I guess this means I have to head back already.” As you take a heavy step to start walking away he reaches out to stop you with a pleading look on his face “Wait, don’t go yet” “Rafayel…. I’m sorry, I really am. This night- everything was wonderful, it really was” “Can’t you just stay the night?” He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck “Please just stay the night, I don’t want you to leave.” Your heart flutters as you wrap your arms around him in return “Okay, I’ll stay for you my sweet painter”

He is the most clingy man you’ve ever met, constantly torn between wrapping himself around you while peppering every inch of skin with kisses and diving headfirst into hundreds of paintings with you as his muse. His studio would be covered in nothing but paintings of you if he didn't have to focus on his commissions.

He sculpted out a place in your heart that held him, and in turn you've devoted yourself to him- loving him with every fiber of your being

[lily-alphonse]

for the rare pairs, did you ever get one with marlon and rasmodius? i haven’t been able to stop thinking about them together 👀

Old man yaoi is such a crowd favorite fr lmao

Ok you guys aren't ready for where I'm going to take this (except Human) because I had an idea for vampire!Abigail that involves Marlon and Rasmodius getting together. Cuz you know, like, 2 dads or whatever. (Technically 3 but Pierre? Ugh. He’s wimpy comic relief in this only)

For the purposes of this fic, Abigail is the wizard's daughter and only him and Caroline know.

Anyways I'm trying to do A LOT with this one so maybe I just do bullet points this time to give you the idea

There's no farmer, instead Marlon takes Abbie under his wing as a young adventurer

Rasmodius (because he watches everyone, like a creep) sees this and is like UGH not that THAT GUY, because Marlon is essentially his annoying coworker. Marlon tries to be buddy buddy with him and Ras is not about it. Like bro do your job protecting the valley and shut up pls.

Abbie stumbles on something she shouldn't in the mines, accidentally unleashing an ancient evil vampire and getting bit. It's very important to me that she turns into a bat. It happens automatically when the sun touches her skin, as a defense mechanism. She can survive in the sun as a bat.

So shit hits the fan obviously. Caroline goes to the wizard's tower screaming and freaking out because her daughter is missing and she is certain he has something to do with it (she hadn't known about Marlon) and Rasmodius pieces together it probably has something to do with the ANCIENT EVIL now on the loose. He assures her he is going to take care of it and has no choice but to team up with (ugh) Marlon.

Marlon doesn't know about Abbie. Ras is keeping all his secrets close and being careful about which info he gives to who. They go on an adventure of bonding. Important features of which are homoerotic wound dressing, and Marlon getting serious with Ras about his past and stuff. So he sees another side to him and starts to gain respect for the man.

A lot happens next that I don't have worked out yet sue me its just a concept rn. I have a few different ideas for how Abbie's side of things can go. She could potentially get out of the mines and turn into a bat which leads to her flying to the tower bc who else would believe her? Or she could be trapped in the mines with the original vampire and be like his spawn under his control or something.

Either way, we end up at a moment of truth where Marlon realizes Abbie has turned and feels like they need to kill her or otherwise trap her for eternity or something. And Ras is like tf no Im not condemning my daughter to that and Abbie and Marlon both are just [shocked pikachu face]

BATTLE OF THE DADS. DAD DUEL. FATHER FIGHT where they are physically fighting but also arguing about who knows best for her since the wizard has literally never spoken to her in her life but is also the one trying to save her, while Marlon actually did become a strong father figure for her but wants to kill her (only to end her suffering ofc)

Imagine they are fighting and Abbie just calls over them like "Not really suffering a whole lot, to be honest!" because this is a dark comedy as well as a romance.

Ras wounds Marlon badly enough (owie, it hurt his heart to do though, what is this, FEELINGS?) that he is subdued. Abbie and Ras take on the ancient vampire and nearly DIE but Marlon comes back and saves the DAAAY

He has the opportunity to also kill Abbie and doesn't, he's come around to compromise his morals for the sake of the ones he loves

Potentially even more homoerotic wound dressing and then they KISS with their old scruffy man beards and Abbie pretends to vom

The End

If you want this one to exist be sure to reblog and vote for it in the poll! This would be a hell of a fun one

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

@totallyhumanexe @chikoxiko come get ur old men

[nanamikentoseyebags]

You're once in any lifetime

will you be mine for eternity?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: fluff, comfort, kisses and jokes, proposal, snippets of domestic life with the strongest

a/n: dear anon, thank you so much for this wonderful request i've been giggling the entire time while working on it! hope you like it 💛

6 hours. 6 hours of non-stop shopping, winding through narrow streets and searching for something interesting, beautiful and delicious. In that exact order. That was the usual weekend routine for Gojo Satoru, aka the World's Strongest, aka a little kid who apparently had one main dream in life: to buy up everything that caught his eye.

It was supposed to be a quiet and peaceful Sunday morning, that rare moment when one could behold a truly great wonder –sleeping Satoru, wrapped in a green fuzzy blanket, with his snow-white hair tousled, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and a trickle of saliva from his open mouth that had already dripped onto the pillow. Not everyone was lucky enough to see him in his own habitat, appearing so defenseless and vulnerable, like a red-listed animal in need of protection and care. He never lost the opportunity to remind you that you were the lucky one to wake up to see such a marvelous sight in front of you as him.

But today the day didn't start so wonderfully, or to be more precise, not it the slightest so: being literally torn out of the realm of sleep by his icy hands, which shamelessly encircled your ankles and were eagerly pulling you off the bed with an unprecedented force for the defenseless and vulnerable, you cried out in surprise feeling the coldness that came over your body in a wave.

"Satoru!" you managed to grab the headboard at the last moment, and now you were trying to wrench your leg from his icy grasp, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm waking you up," a pearly white smile shone on the face of the unscrupulous intruder of your sleep, "time to get up, sleepyhead, otherwise we'll sleep through all the fun," sky-blue eyes glimmered with lights of mischief and in a second his fingers were already tickling your feet.

You squealed, yanking your legs furiously, desperately hoping to get out of his tenacious grip and kick him so he'd never think of waking you up like that ever again. Well, the plan worked. To your own surprise the Strongest was defeated by a precise kick of your heel right in his ribs, and making the sound of a dying whale, he jumped up from the bed, holding his side.

"Did you take karate classes while I was away?" he exhaled, rubbing the injured spot.

"Yeah, got my black belt for just such occasions," you finally sat up on the bed, tucking your legs under the blanket and smoothing back your sleep-tangled hair, "and what fun could we possibly have slept through, huh?"

Satoru's painful grimace was immediately replaced by his usual bright smile, as if he hadn't been pretending to be a wounded warrior a second ago, "shopping!" echoed loudly throughout the apartment, making you cringe.

"Well what is the fun in that," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching, "my dreams were quite fun until you disturbed them."

"Don't be so booooring," he sang, "besides, everything's already waiting for you" Satoru pulled out two hangers from behind his back, on which two prepared and ironed outfits for today were waiting in the wings. Looking at his beaming face, it was hard to tell him no, and he knew it perfectly well.

And for 6 hours straight, you looped through ornate streets decorated with colorful storefronts, filled with hundreds of people rushing about their business. You could barely feel your feet, somewhere in the back of your mind regretting that you had agreed to this adventure at all, knowing that Satoru certainly wouldn't get tired until he found the very sweets he remembered nothing about but had once tasted somewhere.

To be honest, you had other plans that required a more relaxed and peaceful ambience, but the sheer joy of Satoru put all thoughts on the back burner, replacing them with a pleasant tingle in your chest that made your heart beat faster every time he turned his ruffled, snow-white head to make sure you were holding on tightly to his big hand with your little fingers as he led you through the crowd of people.

Such small but so meaningful details never passed you by, and each time you were convinced that you could never have found a better man than this tall, annoying, but so beloved dummy.

"'Wanna get some cotton candy, sweets?" Gojo led you out onto a less crowded street, now walking beside you and swinging your intertwined hands.

"I would love some,"you smiled, nodding, inwardly pleased that the shopping seemed to be coming to an end.

"Gimme a sec," you walked over to a small wagon where he bought a huge cotton candy bar, so huge that it completely covered your face as you began to chew it, "fank you," you murmured, savouring the sweetness on your tongue.

"You're felcome," he mimicked you, nibbling off a couple bits and putting them in his mouth, making you giggle and nudge him lightly with your shoulder.

You wandered quietly along the embankment, listening to the sound of the gentle waves, feeling the breeze lightly ruffling your hair. You were silent, genuinely enjoying each other's company, talking only with your eyes and smiling involuntarily, as if these six years that you had been together had never happened and you both had just met. The sun was slowly slipping toward sunset, letting itself stare at you at least a little longer, gently stroking your smiling faces with its golden rays. You stopped at the small fence separating the promenade from the water and quietly watched the sky sink into the boundless embrace of the sea, merging into a one pastel-colored expanse, going far, far away, to a place where we had never been.

"Look," a sudden loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you flinch and turn in the direction Satoru was pointing his finger at.

"What's there?" you squinted, looking into the distance and trying to see anything, "I don't..." you turned back, seeing a sight that rendered you speechless.

Satoru was on one knee, his glasses no longer covering his magical eyes that were darting across your surprised face, but resting on his head, in his large palm lay a velvet box with a neat ring adorned with little stones shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

"Y/n..." something that sounded like a quiet croak escaped his lips, causing him to cough, his already flushed cheeks turning scarlet before he continued, "will you marry me?"

You covered your mouth with your hand, struggling to hold back the laughter that burst out of you.

"What are you doing?" Satoru tilted his head, "are you laughing at me?" he gasped, pretending to be hurt by your reaction, "when I'm kneeling here in front of you?"

"No, no, no, no," you shook your head, clearing your throat softly and pulling a small velvet box out of your purse, "I thought you wouldn't ask, so... uh...," you laughed harder, seeing his already large eyes widen.

"So, will you marry me, Satoru gojo," you uttered, trying to calm down and holding out a delicate golden band.

"I think so," he grinned, graciously holding out his hand so you could slip the ring onto his finger, "and what will your decision be, dear Y/n"

"More likely yes than no" you giggled, feeling the pleasant coldness of the gold metal on your finger at the same second.

Satoru reached up, pulling you closer to him and with the loudest mwah possible, smacking your lips, "looks like you're stuck with me for eternity, sweets," he smirked contentedly, taking your face in his hands and pinching your cheeks.

"Looks like it, but I'm ashamed to admit it, I don't seem to mind," you giggled, poking his nose and engaging him in the most tender kiss, promising for eternity with every movement of your lips.

thank you so much for reading 💛 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

tags: @rossithepixie @a-nuisance-called-sam @the-mom-friend-dot-com @vagabond-umlaut

[22ayla19]

Frankenstein x Witch! Reader

"Favorite witch"

The day turned out to be busy, although the only thing Frankenstein did was fill out documents. And besides this, his favorite witch went to some kind of sabbath and it is not known when he will return. But he so wanted to be alone with her, to hug her and hear words of consolation. Hmmm... What has the once famous, fear-inspiring nobleman, mad scientist descended to? You don’t tell anyone, they won’t believe you.

But still, there was one noble man who saw how much Frankenstein missed his little witch. Raizel still remembers how the mad scientist and the insidious witch met. Once he saved a young witch from the fate of being burned, and she began to obey him in gratitude. When Frankenstein joined Raizel, then we will get acquainted with a more experienced witch, who radiated a murderous aura towards the scientist. And a cheerful life began between two equal personalities.

In the first couple of decades, hostility towards each other, quarrels and eternal insults were commonplace, well, until Raizel was in the room, otherwise everything was as usual, but even so, after a lot of time, the hostility and quarrels stopped. The insults remained, but they were more humorous than offensive. What made the scientist and the witch get closer? It's simple. The disappearance of their Master.

Without noticing it, they became closer, trying to find their master. They began to trust each other more; in other words, they became very close friends. And 300 years ago they actually got married. When Raizel found out, he was very surprised, because he remembered how they always quarreled and insulted each other, but here they care, support and love each other. If the Previous Lord had seen this picture, he would have laughed heartily.

- Well, why are we sighing here? Have you really missed your beloved wife?

Frankenstein raised his head and looked at the intruder. Although you couldn’t even call her a violator, considering how she loved to tease and help him at the same time.

- Already back, my little witch?

- Of course, I knew how much you missed me. You also don't work as hard when I'm away.

And although Frankenstein does not admit it, his wife is his weakness. Enemies would definitely take advantage of such an opportunity to annoy the scientist, although he himself is not particularly worried. Enemies will die faster at the hands of his wife than at his hands. His wife is a witch with a lot of experience behind her, some kind of extra, not even worth her attention.

The witch walked over to her husband and sat on his lap and took off High School Principal Yeo-Ran's glasses.

- With glasses, you are, of course, attractive, but they will only hinder us.

- Aren't you afraid that we will be noticed? - Frankenstein asked, understanding what his wife was leading to.

- The lesson has just started, we have time before it ends, so we can enjoy each other, - the witch answered with a sly smile.

- If so, then don’t complain about the marks on your neck, my favorite witch.

[unluckiestmember]

Intimate Moments (Arcane Edition)

Summary: The most intimate and emotional moment during sex you’ve had with the main Arcane characters!

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor and Silco

Warning: NSFW for sexual themes and suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: A compilation from my last account and one of my personal favorite imagines/headcanons. Enjoy!

Jinx

It was your first time having sex with her. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but Jinx being Jinx, dived head first. Literally. She thinks she’s seen and been to heaven when she’s between your legs. The feeling of her on you in such a position made you moan out her name.

Not Jinx. But Powder.

Jinx stares up at you and you already know you made a mistake. No one calls her Powder, not even Silco! Unless you have a death wish, you should keep that name out of your mouth!

You stare down at her blue eyes expecting a scowl or a roar! But you were shocked when she whispered to you,

“Say it... Say it again.”

So you say it. “Powder.”

“Say it again.”

“Powder.”

“Please say it again.”

“Powder...”

You experience the best orgasm in your life, having the loose cannon below pleasure you like there was no tomorrow. She let her tongue work wonders and picked up her pace, taking in all of you in her mouth. When you came, Jinx cleaned you up and even pleasured you a little more, causing your eyes to roll back in eternal bliss.

She could tell you were finished for now so she pulled herself up to cuddle into your side. It took you a minute until you realized she cried to sleep. Not tears of anger or sorrow. But of joy.

Ever since, you are the only one who can call her Powder.

Vi

Vi is a wild animal in bed.

She’ll throw you down and waste no time to fuck your brains out for simple pleasure.

But one day, during a steamy make out session, you stopped to kiss down on her bandaged knuckles.

She’s taken a back for a minute.

Why would you do that?

You keep kissing on her knuckles without a care in the world. “Stop it,” She told you, trying her best to pull away from you. But you hold her softly. “Y/N, stop it...” She keeps fighting back for a minute, but eventually stops.

The brute breaks in your arms. How could you do that? How could you love someone who’s ruined so many lives with those fists of hers? It was impossible, wasn’t it? But you told her the answer to her worries and questions with a single glance into her gray eyes.

‘No.’

That night, you two had sex as usual, but this was more personal. More intimate. Vi took more gentle strokes and eased into picking up her speed and slamming harder on you.

She screams and moans your name like a prayer, countlessly says she loves you, feeling like any moment you will disappear. Though the way your hands relaxed on her hips and drew circles along her waist said otherwise.

The two of you came together before sleeping in each other’s arms. She could get used to sensual sex like that…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Innocent little Caitlyn.

Why are there barely any headcanons for Caitlyn? I-

Caitlyn was a classy woman, so sex was never really on her mind. It still wasn’t when you guys started dating. But you both knew you had to get things over with eventually. So one evening, Caitlyn dragged you to her room to try it.

The both of you were super awkward, especially the female enforcer. She would always ask in between actions “Are you okay? Is this right? Should it be the other way?” Bless her soul.

All around, everything was going well.

Until it was time to get naked. When it came her turn to feel pleasure, she didn’t do anything.

She hung her head low to the ground almost in disappointment. She stared down at her body. Thoughts lingered in her head; ‘What if I’m not beautiful to Y/N? What if I make a fool out of myself?’

Before she could ask herself any more questions, you rid her of her worries with sweet kisses. With every piece of clothing thrown on the floor, you whisper out, “You’re so precious. You look like an angel. Oh, I love you so much.”

You almost broke her down with every kiss you placed to mark her body. Your lips graced on her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her chest and finally her core. Oh, you loved everything about her.

You started to eat her, licking inside her folds at an average pace and flicking your tongue on her clit.

In a matter of seconds, her hands are lost in your hair, pushing your head closer to her to feel all of your tongue inside of her. Her moans clouded the room long after she came in your mouth. Pulling up, you both had lust in your eyes and could tell the night was still young…

Let’s just say she eventually screamed your name to the heavens long into the night and she realized two things; Sex with you was the best! And she was beautiful.

Ekko

Ekko has always been a bit of a wild boy when it came to having sex with you. It’s why you two were together to begin with.

He can be playful some nights, chuckling with you when he messes up something. Rough when he just really wants you. And romantic when you just need to know he cares about you.

One night the two of you were just having the time of your lives. He was slamming into you from behind, groaning out, “You like that, huh? Yeah, go ahead and scream my name, baby.” And boy did you love it.

Just feeling him stretch you out and pound deeper and faster in you was like euphoria. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs, “Ah, yes! Right there! Fuck, I love you, Ekko!”

You didn’t want it to stop, but soon the movement had slowed and the grip on your thighs loosened. You felt your body turning now to face the leader of the firelights panting down at you. “You love me,” He questioned, his brown eyes glistening in the moonlight full of hesitant awe.

Did you say you loved him? You never told him because you were scared of getting attached. He was the leader of a cause and lived in Zaun. Any minute he could be taken from you, so you tried not to get attached. Yet you said you loved him, whether it be out of lust or love wasn’t important. You said the sacred three words to him.

In that moment, you were sure as he began to stroke inside of you again, you didn’t see a warrior. You saw your boyfriend, your best friend, your everything.

He must have seen that in you too because he started to dig deeper in you, continuously hitting your g-spot with smooth strokes. His arms wrapped around you tightly, groaning at the feeling of a climax approaching him.

Together in a sea of utter pleasure, the both of you came together before relaxing in each other’s embrace under the shine of the midnight moon.

You slept well that night in his arms, letting him hold onto you with the mindset of if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back.

No matter what, after that day, you both say I love you at least once a day.

Viktor

My everything next to Jinx.

You and Viktor have been partners for a long time in Piltover, working on projects together when he wasn’t accompanied by Jayce. Though you two never started to officially date because hexcore was more important, even if deep down you two wanted to become an item.

Well, the thing about humans is that they don’t know how precious people are until they almost lose them.

Viktor found himself having a particularly horrible week; The hexcore may have fixed him, but took away a close friend. He may have almost stopped an incoming war, but he ended up losing some close allies due to the bombing on the council’s headquarters.

He had thought he lost you when the city went into lockdown due to the commotion. Thank the gods he found you that night safe and sound at your home.

Thank the gods he was safe too.

That following night, the two of you met one another at your home, where he knocked on your door. Your eyes connected with his amber eyes, and you were sure they screamed one thing; ‘I need you’.

In a matter of seconds, you two synchronized like gears to slam each others’ lips onto one another. Moving in rhythm, bodies danced through the dimly lit house towards your bedroom, where the scientist pushed you down on your comforter and wasted no time to rid himself of your clothes.

You did the same, though you found it cute and amusing that he was apologizing for his ‘inappropriate’ actions. You showed it was okay when you slammed your lips onto his again and felt yourself yearning for him.

You two grinded on each other, letting your lower bodies explore one another through groans and moans. The entire night, you two were one. Nothing else mattered when you found Viktor cumming inside of you and placing your hand gently onto your cheek.

You two stared at one another desperately before you heard the man speak in his native tongue, “я люблю тебя так сильно.”

You never questioned what that meant, but when you two started dating, he made it an effort to always tell you “I love you so much.”

Silco

As long as you’ve been dating the crime lord of Zaun, you knew damn well that Silco was not an emotional guy. No one has ever seen him let out his feelings to people, not even Jinx.

If he did ever give into his emotions, it would be out of anger, but never out of love.

He only ever saw sex as something done to relieve stress, kind of like you. You were his bitch anyways, nothing more.

That’s why he would always fuck your brains out, slamming his cock inside of you through your mouth or lower end with one goal in mind; To forget about the world and please himself for once in his god awful life.

However, one evening when he was railing deep inside of you on your desk, something was different to say the least. He wasn’t fucking you like a mad man. He wasn’t calling you degrading names and growling like an animal. Instead, his strokes were sensual and careful.

That was new. Was he sick? It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it. But why was he doing this?

You reach up to touch his face where his scar was and the man had froze up. You wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Where was the man who would pound you senseless?

Instead of being given an answer, his orange and blue eyes just pierced down at you before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Through those eyes, you had seen the man you once knew. A man who was calculating, but somewhat compassionate. A man who just wanted the best for him and his brother. A man once had big dreams he wanted to accomplish with you by his side.

He always said that naïve brat was gone, but you always knew he was in there. That’s why you had no issue with this new version of him. It’s why you never batted an eye at his scarred eye. As a matter of fact, you adored it. You adored him.

With the feeling of your lips crashing slowly into his, Silco began to fuck you as usual. His strokes only picked up after a moment of your moans colliding in your mouth.

Before you knew it, he came hard and deep inside of you, making you scream out his name before relaxing a bit. Now panting hard on his desk, you stared up at Silco, finding him panting along with you. He eventually pulled away to sit in his chair.

You don’t know why he apologized or what happened that night, but from that day forward, Silco was more open to showing his appreciation for you…

Arcane requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

[v3nusxsky]

So I’m like severely sick rn, with a cough, fever, allergies and all the types of bodily pain you can think of.

Would you be so kind as to write a cute little Larissa x reader sick fic? Full creatives rights to you, write what comes to you and what you like. Thank you, darling:)<3

-comet ☄️

Sweet thing

*authors note~ I’m so sorry you’re sick lovely, I know this is a bit late but I hope this is okay? Taking an kinktober break to post this! Next instalment of kink is coming to a screen near you soon ;) Can always pop me a message and tell me anything you wanna change or add! It was written on a train so it sort of inspired this :)*

Trigger warnings~ little r cg Larissa anxiety brought on by trains illness fever sickness headaches just generally feeling crap ?? Probably more tbh😂

Prompt~see ask^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You knew you felt like shit today, it hit you as soon as you were awake, coughs wracking through your body as if it was nothing more than a meet bowling pin. The headache you went to bed with was never quite leaving you. In fact it seemed to have rested and come back with a vengeance, and of course it was the one day you couldn’t deal with this. You are meant to catch a train a little before two thirty to travel to Jericho and see your girlfriend for the month. Having time off from your school due to some building work gave you the perfect opportunity to discuss your idea of moving to Nevermore to teach with the blonde principal. You were more on edge as you knew the last “Normie” teacher the school had almost tried to kill your lover, but not being with her all the time kills you. Yet this sickness seemed to have other ideas for you.

Deciding you had some time you attempted to sleep off the worst of this sickness before dosing your self up on pain medicine and dragging yourself to the train station. Only this time when you awoke, your whole body ached, your eyes leaking moisture, nose running like a tap and this ungodly cold sensation all over your body. Instinctively, you wanted to borrow under the blankets and sleep for eternity but you simply didn't have the time for that. So instead, you hauled yourself out of bed, shoving on the comfiest pair of clothes you could find before readying your tired body to leave your room.

Rushing to the train station was all blur, but some how you made it and you couldn't be more grateful that you managed to secure a seat before the train got to busy. By the first stop, the train had began to pack up and in the sick haze you swore your heart was beating so fast it could be considered a rocket with the speed it was trying to take off with. your right leg began to bounce as you felt eyes on you from every direction of the train carriage. Paranoia seeped into your bones as you felt as if you'd been dunked into flames judging by the now uncomfortable heat spreading over your skin. The earbuds you strategically place in your ears to dull the noise now seemed to be failing as your head felt ready to explode. As soon as you heard your stop being announced you could've cried with joy as you escaped the train, promising yourself that you would never put yourself through that anxiety educing activity again. Especially not alone.

The taxis for Jericho are far and few between, in fact there is not any. so you enlisted the help of Nevermore's very own troublesome raven haired student and her werewolf girlfriend. It turned out to be brilliant timing as some of the Nevermore students happened to be in Jericho shopping for the raven, so you were able to sneak onto the shuttle using your abilities to help you blend in with the other students. Thankfully Coach Vald wasn't too observant otherwise he would've surly notice the sick teenager sat between Wednesday and Eind, who clearly wasn't there before.

Arriving at Nevermore took your breath away every time, yet this time it could be argued that it was the cough that was trying to force itself free from your chest that did it. With a quick thank you to the girls and reassurance that Wednesday, Enid's and things skills your luggage would make its way to the Principles office you slipped off to find your lover. As you walked the halls of Nevermore your body was slowly giving up, the pain overwhelming you, the fever causing you to shift into a much younger version of yourself. The need to find the Principal was now at an all new high, luckily she found your things before she found you. You'd have to thank Enid for spilling what was meant to be a surprise when you felt better.

"Hello love bug" you heard from down the hall. Your momma. once you turned to face her she could see just what Enid had described. you were really sick and yet somehow made your way to Nevermore to surprise the blonde. You must have told her a later train time in hopes to surprise her. Rather adorable, but she would have to remind you that you need too look after your health when you felt better. "Momma, no feel goods" you whimpered before your little body gave out and made friends with the floor.

Scooping you up of the floor and cradling your small frame to her chest, she could feel the heat radiating from you, yet shivers racked your frame as if it was winter weather. She immediately took you back to her private chambers where she could care for you more discreetly. Being placed on her bed, you immediately wriggled over to burrow your face in her pillow before snuggling into her blankets. With a small chuckle, the blonde gently rouses you to give medicine and cool your temperature down. "No Momma, no more" you whined trying to wriggle away as much as your weak body would allow you to. "I know little love, but we have to get you feeling better don't we?" to which you nodded and reached out for the older woman to hold you. Only when you were wrapped in her arms did you feel better, "magical nuggles momma" you yawned causing a huge smile for the Principal of Nevermore, the amount of love you brought her was magical. "Only for you my love, can you tell momma how you got here when you are feeling so icky darling?"

You sleepily recounted how you made your way to Nevermore and the reason why you were so determined to get to her. Even when you were this sick, Larissa was all you could think about and need. "Wanna live momma ever an ever" you mumbled before the medicine knocked you out, snuggled onto the principals chest, your home and safe space. Larissa held you while you slept wondering how she could reprimand for needing her? she just couldn't but if you lived and worked in Nevermore then she could most definitely keep an eye on you.

Word count 1159