#IT IS CRUCIAL HE IS AN FUCKING ASSHOLE

[thebrainrotsreal]

I need you to know every since I saw this reblog I have losing my fucking MIND RIGHT NOW HOLY SHIT????? YOU GET IT. YOU GET IT FR THIS IS INCREDIBLE. I am losing my mind. I am fucking pacing. I want to scream to the very heavens in excitement. Shrieking and foaming at the mouth because yes yes yes yes yes yes.

Calling him Wasp? Yes. I love him. I love that. I was also thinking this, but oh my goodness now it's tickling me because hehe "W" being upside down "M", and vice versa just like how Wasp and Mark are arguable the same "letter" AKA person just inverted morals. I love them so much, your honor.

I LOVE THE WAY YOU THOUGHT OF THE PLOT BECAUSE IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE. I can see Cecil capturing Wasp if Angstrom accidentally openeed one last portal and Wasp came through. Wasp says something implying he's fought/killed/etc. I can absolutely see Cecil using Wasp a potential weapon-in-training (tortured to obey), since they are seriously lacking in the super powered forces right now. Wasp is fucking feral about this double torture because a) forced to help and/or be nice? He would rather bite someone's throat out, then b) his fucking pride of being captured by human forces he once killed.

I seriously want to reply of these because they're incredible but please picture me like so, in complete and utter excitement for every single thing you just said because i love this AU with all my heart and soul and I am so happy I went through with posting it.

I am actively short circuiting in complete and utter excitement because yes yes yes yes. I know what I am drawing next oh my goodness holy shit.

"they both hate each other so much, but it merges with hating themselves bc. they're the same person. what hurts one, hurts the other, no matter how different they are"

YES YES YES EXACTLY! There is this self loathing that exists when they're so callous and violent towards each other, and it's off-putting to witness. I think similar to how Wasp is jarring because he acts exactly like Mark except for the one almost invisible (at times) difference, it's jarring to see Mark being so angry at someone else, and so constantly full of loathing whenever Wasp is around. Even if it's a low simmering annoyance, a deep exhaustion, he's so callous and biting, in a way he would never be with anyone else. They just set each other off so instantly. If Mark (or Wasp) come back with a bruise, you don't know if it's hero related or because he was fighting with the other "twin".

Bonus points if: much like how Nolan flies is eerie because it's too smooth (while Mark makes poses that feel more natural) when he's around Wasp and pissed the fuck off, he flies like Nolan and Wasp do--entirely too smooth, unnatural-looking.

"mark "i can fix him" grayson vs mark "i can make him worse" grayson. one of them will drag the other to their side kicking and screaming"

YES YES YES AND AGAIN YES. EXACTLY THE POINT OF THE AU. I think if Wasp and Mark are ever working together on some hero mission, (Wasp being allowed to kill with monsters/creatures/etc) Wasp is scarily efficient because he aims to kill from the get go. And in a way, he's showing off. Showing how he's better in some way against Mark, because this Mark is so weak in his eyes, but he has his mom, his friends, his school, human food at a moment's notice (wholly believe Viltramite destruction means bye bye milkshakes) but the one thing Wasp has is violence and he wields it well. He refuses to let it go.

He wants Mark to crumble to see this way to validate everything he's done, so he's right, and what he's lost along the way was worth it.

I gotta imagine if Mark was ever struggling with an enemy (and Wasp was certain he wouldn't die or it's way earlier into their dynamic before the insane protectiveness while still full of hatred), he'd pull and Nolan and watch Mark, waiting for Mark to be deadly, to be something more (just like he is), and become even angrier when Mark wins at the last second, or struggles for far too long. He would probably ending the fight himself, scoffing at this Mark and hating him so much he can barely breath, choking on ire (because how dare you have so much more than me and be WEAK-). This could be how they meet???

"imagine wasp gifting mark other people's body parts like a cat leaving a dead bird in your room. he hands him a still beating heart, and thinks, hateful, "you had this coming. you're keeping me here against my will. deal with the consequences"... they grow to care for each other but in a very fucked up way. they still hate each other don't get me wrong, but they would now kill for each other"

Oh my goodness, this is so fucked up, I love it. Wasp hands him a still beating heart, a hand, an ear, a hand still twitching. I can see it, too. Wasp seeing where ever Mark is and gesturing come here and then shoving at it him, savoring when Mark pales in horror. Bonus points for imagery if Wasp's hands are bloody and in the process of catching the bloody whatever-it-is Mark's hands get bloody too.

Working with the other point, I can totally see Rex seeing this and being horrified and yelling at Wasp, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You know what-", and Mark just instantly shoving out a hand to make Rex back off, glaring venomously. "Don't. Just Don't." And almost wanting to flinch at Mark's tone. Remembering this is Nolan's son for a second. What he can do.

Dysfunctional ass siblings with cain instinct pumped up to actively homicidal levels, actually lethal. Full of deep, deep loathing, and yet "lay a hair on him and I'll fucking kill you".

they can finish each other's sentences. they are not happy about it

YES YES YES YES YES. I KEEP SAYING THAT BUT IM LEGIT SOOO EXCITED AND DELIGHTED. They're so alike. Wasp and Mark go to comic con's together on a truce, they're delighted by the same issues and same shows. Especially Wasp, who might not be able to partake in comics/shows with the whole destruction and enslavement of humanity, and Mark (even tho he hates it) has someone to talk to about the stuff he likes. They both hate it.

They make the same jokes/same humor, they can guess each other's punchlines and end up snorting before it's even said. They both hate it so much.

They kick or punch each other out of the blue, too. Because they know they can take it out on each other, and it still hurts, this kind of self loathing, but it's so palpable, so poisonous.

OH AND THIS TOO:

wasp: oh, mom is still alive. y'know, i killed her in my universe. i could do it again in yours

mark, slowly turning around with a murderous look in his face: what.

I gotta imagine Wasp is unsettled by seeing Debbie alive again. Avoids Oliver. He can't stand whatever this is. Avoids them completely. He acts disgusted by them, but he's unsettled and scared of confronting the taste of regret and guilt. How it could consume him but he's not weak like that, he's not supposed to be, he can't be that way. Not him, he's stronger than that, he killed to be. He could kill her again, and he repeats to himself to be something smoothing. I could kill you, a soothing mantra to remind himself he is still strong.

ALSO YES EXACTLY. WASP BEING DRAGGED KICKED AND SCREAMING BY THE DAMN HAIR INTO REDEMPTION.

thank you so much for adding on because i am actively running on the fucking walls in incomprehensible excitement and utter delight. YOU GET IT.

EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.

[hella1975]

we may have lost another one to the bisexual hotgirl and straight loserboy agenda but trust i am fighting it comrades 🫡

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

thinking about changing uriel's resurreccion from the. pavo real/fenix idea i had and just makin him paloma instead.

[selineram3421]

*looking at taglist slowly turning into a CVS receipt*

Hissy Kitty

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ Alastor is still annoying lol, Husk is not having it, italics=thoughts, reader gets pissed ⚠

Husk felt confident that Alastor would stop being annoying. It was in the contract that he couldn't touch you. He had to follow the contract.

Of course the asshole found a loophole.

"Dear, do be careful.", the deer guided you away from broken glass.

"Alastor..", you said in a deadpanned tone. "I have to clean that up."

"Yes but I just wanted to remind you the dangers of handling broken glass.", he smiled at you and turned to grin smugly at the cat behind him.

Fucking hell.

"I know how to handle glass.", you said and started to sweep up the mess.

"Very well, I'll stop pestering you about glass."

You were of course oblivious to Alastor's games.

Husk knew that he should have been more specific so that the smiling asshole couldn't touch you at all.

"Hey, squirt."

"What?", you responded, finishing up sweeping the trash.

"Go to where the Princess is. I'm pretty sure she wanted you to do something upstairs.", he says with a shooing motion.

"Ok, I'll go up after tossing this out.", you said and went towards the staff only hallway.

"Don't worry about it.", your brother said and went to take the dust pan from you. "Just head over now."

"What a good older sibling you are!", the red dressed demon commented with a smile.

You glanced between the two, feeling a weird tension in the air.

"Ok...", you leaned the broom against one of the couches. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone.", you say before going upstairs.

After making sure his sibling was far enough, the cat demon growled and glared at the Radio Demon. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?", he said with clenched teeth.

"I'm doing what I'm allowed to!", Alastor said cheerfully and walked over to the bartender. "So, obviously I am touching them when necessary, like moving them away from danger.", he reached out to scratch behind one of Husker's ears.

"Stop fucking playing!", Husk yelled, smacking the deer's hand away. "They aren't your toy or pet asshole! SO LEAVE THEM THE FUCK ALONE!"

Alastor's smile twitched slightly.

Who is this demon to tell me no? I own the cat, so they just had to suck it up and follow along.

"I think you're forgetting one tiny, but ever so crucial, little detail?", the red demon grew taller, static crackling loudly. "I OWN YOU."

"I know.", Husk hissed out. "But I won't let you do anything to them."

.

You headed back to the lobby confused.

Charlie hadn't called for you at all but she did let you know that you would be getting a different job soon.

Why did he lie? You wondered and turned a corner to get to the stairs.

That's when you felt your fur stand on end, static noise making you shiver and cringe.

Rushing towards the lobby, you saw Alastor take a threatening step towards your brother in his taller demon form. In the moment, it didn't matter if the red demon was one of your bosses or not, you would protect your brother.

Standing between the two, you growled and hissed at the deer demon, fur bristling and tail flicking back and forth.

"BACK THE FUCK UP."

Husk quickly held on to you and tried to pull you back. "No! Stay back, let me handle this!"

You stayed put, still glaring up at the red demon.

Alsastor looked at you in an odd way before he shrunk back to size and fixed his coat. "Ahem, apologies.", he held his hands behind his back. "I didn't mean to give you such a scare!"

Still annoyed, you squinted your eyes at him and finally let your brother take you away from the lobby.

Once getting to somewhere private, Husk immediately shook you by your shoulders. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING KID!?"

You shook your head and moved his arms off of you. "I was thinking of getting you out of there!", you huff. "Look, I know he's the Radio Demon. I know you have some fucked up deal."

Husk tries to interject.

"NO! No, I am not done!", you point at him. "I know somewhere in that deal you made has my protection and that's why Alastor has been so weird when it comes to me. He wants to bug and annoy you for fucking shits and giggles.", you take a breath and brush your ears down to settle your anger. "I've been worried about you ever since you stopped talking to me. What happened at your casino?"

He turns away from you and takes a moment before sighing.

"I lost almost everything..", he grumbled. "I had to make a deal to save my power."

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But just because I'm stuck in a bind, doesn't mean you jump into my battles.", he glares at you. "I can handle the smiling piece of shit."

With a roll of your eyes, you turn him to face you completely.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you since getting here.", you hold his claws. "I can fight my own battles, sure I might need help at times but I'll ask you when I do. I know the dangers, I know the risks, I know my limits.", you let go. "But to you I'm just still a defenseless kid.."

"You'll always be my little sibling. Of course I'm gonna think of you as a kid.", he sighs. "But I'll stop giving you shit for some stuff.", he points a claw at you. "You hear that? Some."

"Yeah, yeah.", you smile and hug your brother.

He pats your head and both of you enjoy the peace.

For a second.

"Ok, now get off.", he says.

"Nah, you can handle a few more seconds.", you say and don't let go.

"Awww~"

Both of you get hugged from behind by Angel.

"Look at how soft you are around them~", the spider pinches your brother's cheek with one of his hands, turning his head to look at you. "You should hang around him more often."

"Get your ass off me.", Husk grumbles and moves out of the hug.

"But Husky~!", Angel whines as he clings onto your brother. "You are just sooo cute!"

You laugh as the two go back and forth with their banter, happy that your brother is ok.

Meanwhile, Alastor went up to his radio tower.

The shadows in the room curling and twisting around, the radio static getting louder and louder that it numbed out the sounds from outside.

Something had changed.

Please let me know if you don't find your tag!

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @hxzbinwrites @alikate82 @angeliclovely69 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @tsukilover11 @cheshairacat @the-unhinged-raccoon @plapperlapapp @thesimpguru @stevenuniversezanite @random-3455 @hypnossses @crazyforbarnes @ngjhgftujgrtui @haveawanderfulday @dark-stars-and-the-moons-melody @karolinda007-blog @twistedkisses @ghostedddd @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

[variousqueerthings]

characters that fit under the jessica rabbit paradigm off the top of my head (note these are not necessarily asexual, but if you know me, you know I read several of them as that)

slight amendment here then also is that there's a scale of how much of this occurs in original texts versus later adaptations of those texts. for example in the original scandal of bohemia, irene adler is a very different character to who she becomes later on, so her first appearance is not a case of jessica rabbit, however in interaction with later appearances -- most egregiously in sherlock -- she becomes jessica rabbit on a meta scale (the same can be said for lucy westenra or james kirk)

jessica rabbit, obviously

the doctor (mostly ten -- eleven too, but more in specific character interactions) (doctor who)

seven of nine (voyager)

james t kirk (star trek the original series)

lucy westenra (dracula)

irene adler (sherlock holmes)

(partner suggestion:) thirteen (house)

ethan hunt (mission impossible)

actually the jessica rabbit paradigm is one I'm going to take onboard more in regards to characters: "does this character actually fuck, or do other characters just want to fuck them?"

otherwise known as the "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way" dichotomy

obviously first coined by all those clever people who dubbed jessica rabbit an ace icon, and is applicable to other characters who are considered sexy by others, but which doesn't reflect their own canon attitude towards sexuality. this often including the writers and audiences of the text, who likewise project an allosexuality into a context in which it doesn't necessarily exist, based on the perceived attractiveness of the character and how other characters react to that perceived attractiveness

[slut-for-evans-stan]

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Summary: Ben and you can't stay in the same room without wanting to rip each other's hearts out. The Boys, tired of dealing with you, decide to take matters into their own hands by tricking you two into completing your most crucial mission yet— resolving your problems. One thing leads to another and you discover that there was an easier, much more enjoyable method to resolve everything between you all along. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (18+), Enemies to Lovers, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy, Dirty talk, oral (m+f rec), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), hate fucking!? (kind of), rough sex, swearing, choking, squirting, creampie.

a/n: this is my very first time writing smut. Not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')

I'd really appreciate if you could like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3

Being a Supe with extraordinary powers didn't mean you were ready to exploit people for clout, with how things were at Vought. So when Starlight and Hughie learnt that you declined Ashley's offer to have you join the Seven, they convinced you to join hands with The Boys to ensure that the arrogant liars claiming to be "Saviours of the World" got what they deserved. Despite feeling a bit unwelcome at first due to Butcher's distant behaviour, you quickly settled in and felt accepted, and connected to everyone in the team, everyone except the newest member to join forces with you all to help in taking down Homelander and others; Soldier Boy.

In the dimly lit room, stood Soldier Boy in his silk robe, a cigarette in one hand, one leg on the bed, the other supporting his weight on the floor; his back facing the door. Upon hearing a soft knock, he turned around with a smug grin on his face. He began,

"Well, hello there gorgeous! You've sure kept me waiting long enough for someone who made eager promises to choke on my dick."

Unamused, and somewhat disgusted by his comment, you shot him a stern look,

"I'm not here for your entertainment, I need to run a few tests on you. So it'll be nice if you'll please spare a few minutes before you run off to get your dick wet. We need to be sure that you're not going to explode and kill us all."

Soldier Boy's smirk echoed through his room as he eyed you with an amazed expression. Undeterred, he sauntered over to you, leaning in and mistaking your seriousness for a mere challenge.

"Sure. Whatever it is, let's get it over with. Maybe after this, you and I could-"

You cut him off with an icy glare

"Save the charm for someone who cares. I don't have time for this bullshit, we've a mission coming up."

From your very first meeting that started with a misunderstanding, it would've been an understatement to say that Soldier Boy annoyed every living cell in your body. You were both constantly arguing and bickering about something or the other, always at each other's throats.

Soldier Boy's deep, intimidating voice echoed through the room, your comment having hit a nerve.

"You know what, you're insufferable."

"At least I'm not stuck up." he shot back.

What should've been a meeting to discuss the upcoming mission, turned into yet another baseless argument between the two of you. Making your teammates uncomfortable with every passing moment. Hughie, Frankie, Kimiko and others exchanged uneasy glances as the tension thickened. You continued,

"I can't believe I've to be stuck with an unbearable asshole as you. Butcher I think I'm gonna skip this mission. Don't want us to end up in another mess like the last time."

At this point, it seemed like you were both minutes away from strangling each other. Soldier boy chuckled,

"Why, you're so intimidated by a real hero you want to hide away like a pussy?"

Eyebrows raised, you retorted, "Real hero!? More like a reckless liability. I've seen toddlers with better impulse control."

Sensing a storm brewing, Hughie spoke with a shaky voice, attempting to intervene and diffuse the situation. "Can we focus, guys? We have a mission-"

Your gaze never wavered from the supe. "I'll focus when he stops acting like he's better than everyone else. He is not the only one with superpowers here, he might be strong but he doesn't scare or intimidate me in the slightest."

Rolling his eyes, Soldier Boy muttered, "I wouldn't need to if you could follow a plan for once in your life."

Butcher commented shutting you all up "Oi. Enough! No one is backing out. You two should go fuck it out or something, whatever issues you stupid cunts have with each other. Don't need any fuck ups in the mission."

The tension spilled into the supposed battlefield, your bickering a dangerous undertone to the chaos around you. Clashing on missions, your mutual disdain fielding your actions, each vying to outdo the other. Yet beneath the surface, a spark lingered, an undeniable attraction that you both, despised and desired, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

On a particularly precarious mission, your incessant bickering almost jeopardized the entire operation.

Amidst the mayhem, you found yourself pinned down by one of the opponents, wounded and unable to use your powers, and Soldier boy reluctantly came to your rescue.

You grunted, "I didn't need your help."

He shot back, "Don't get used to it. I'm saving the mission, not your sorry ass."

Watching the scene unfold from a distance, your teammates exchanged knowing looks. After the mission, they decided they'd have enough, and decided to take matters into their own hands, realising that the unresolved tension between you two threatened not just personal dynamics but the success of missions itself.

On Butcher's suggestion, the team tricked the two of you into thinking there was another mission but instead locking you up in a safe house together,

"Sort this out, or we'll all end up as collateral damage."

warned Hughie before haphazardly shutting the door and leaving, forcing you to confront your issues, facing a choice: either talk and resolve the conflict or risk tearing each other apart. Silence filled the room. However, it was short lived.

Taking a deep breath, you plopped on the sofa across from where he sat and spoke as calmly as you could.

"Great, those little shits tricked us."

Soldier Boy scowled, "This is ridiculous. I don't need couple's therapy, I need a way out of here. I'm gonna beat the shit out of these fucknuts."

This made you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Maybe if you weren't so intolerable, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation in the first place."

As another argument filled the space, the air in the small living room of the safe house shifted. Soldier Boy's tone somewhat softened, revealing a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"You think I enjoy being like this? Constantly on edge, wondering if I'll turn into a goddamn weapon."

You sighed, your defenses momentarily crumbling.

"I didn't sign up for this either, you know. Being a supe's babysitter wasn't in my job description."

As you bickered, underlying desire simmered beneath the surface. Soldier Boy's gaze lingered a moment too long, making a very visible flush rise in your cheeks.

A smug grin playing on his lips, as he said,

"You can't resist me, can you? Admit it, there's something between us, more serious than all this bickering. You know, I think you want me-"

You cut him off, but your voice wavered. "Keep dreaming, I still can't stand you." This remark gave rise to another banter.

"Don't get over yourself. I was only pulling your leg. You're insufferable."

Accusations started flying like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, making your way back into the living room, catching him intently staring at you. Frustration morphed into a heated exchange of longing glances.

Tension crackled in the air, and just when it seemed the room might implode, his expression shifted.

He got up from the sofa, walking over to you, cornering you till your back hit the wall. He leaned in, his eyes darkening with a growing desire, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. I can't stand you, because everytime I look at you, this is all I want to do."

You arched an eyebrow, caught off guard. "Wait, what?" But before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, making the beer bottle fall from your hands, effectively silencing any protests. You caught hold of the shirt he was wearing, kissing him back with equal fervour, savoring the moment as if it was a dream that would end all too soon. All your pent up anger and frustration showed up as the two of you desperately tore at each other clothes, never once breaking the kiss. A battle of tongues. He only pulled back for a second, with a sly grin on his face, his eyes dark, pupils dilated with glimmers of lust.

"There, no need to argue when we can do this instead. We should've figured this out sooner." Rubbing you over your panties with two of his fingers, he groaned.

"You're such a slut. So wet already and I haven't even touched you. You want to get railed till you can't walk, don't you?"

Before you had a chance to say anything, he reclaimed your lips in a hunger fuelled kiss. The room once filled with tension, now crackled with a different kind of energy. Pieces of both your clothings flew across the room. Soldier boy lifted you up and carried you to the small table in the kitchen and set you down hurriedly. The two of you continued to kiss while he rid you both of the remaining pieces of clothing. He kissed you like a mad man, biting and marking every inch of your skin he could in his desperate need to be close to you. Starting from your neck, moving to your tits, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while palming and squeezing the other roughly, then switching and doing the same to the other one. He moved back up to place another rough kiss to your lips, both of you moaning and biting each other's tongues and lips, intoxicated with the feeling of being so close. With an animalistic growl he parted, giving you a look so intense, it could scare the bravest of people.

"When you feel the need to scream, moan my name. Scream it as loud as you can."

With that he roughly nudged your legs apart as wide as they could go and dived right in, eating you out like man starved, licking and sucking your most sensitive parts like it was his last meal. You pulled his hair, legs shaking and trembling with pleasure. His gruff beard giving you a delicious burn, that would heal in no time. He started flicking your clit with his tongue and entered two of his fingers inside you, moving them in and out rapidly. When he added two more fingers, you lost it. Screaming his name and cumming all over his face, your legs wrapped around his head, making it impossible for him to move away.

"Fuck. Ben. I can't-"

you tried pulling away but he didn't stop even then, holding you down with his arms, making you cum two more times before finally deciding to let go. You were dazed in pleasure, but still wanted more. Jumping down the table, and on your knees, you made eye contact with him as you slowly took his long, thick and veiny cock in your hand, stroking him and giving a few kitten licks from the base to the tip and sucking off the beads of precum, moaning at the salty taste, making him groan. You then looked up at him, taking him as far as you could before pulling back again and asking him to fuck your face. He hesitated for a second but his resolve crumbled as soon as you opened your mouth, showing him you were waiting for him. He grabbed your head with both his hands and pushed himself into your mouth, roughly thrusting in and out again and again, moaning your name, cussing like a maniac. You could tell he was close, and then he held your head as close as possible, making you gag a little, his eyes closing, his head thrown back, as ropes of his cum shot down your throat.

In ragged breaths, he said "Be a good little slut and swallow it all."

As you did, you opened your mouth with your tongue out, showing no remnants of his release. He chuckled, pulling you up by your arms, surprising you with a softness in his gaze as he asked

"You sure you want to go further? If you don't, we'll stop right here and pretend this never happened-" you cut him off with an aggressive kiss "Fuck me as hard as you can. I won't break. Take all your frustrations out on me."

With that he smirked and rapidly turned you around, bending your back and shoving your face on the table with his hand, setting it for support right by your head. He entered you with one brutal thrust, making the both of you moan and groan loudly, not giving you a second to adjust as he started ramming his cock into you, hard and deep, his hips moving at an inhuman speed.

"That's it. This is what you wanted right? Now take it. I don't think I'm ever going to let you go after this. You feel so good. Gonna make you my personal little fuck toy. Such a perfect fit."

Hearing all the filth leave his mouth made you clench around him, making him throw his head back in pleasure, never once letting his pace falter.

"Ah you love this. I can tell by the way your tight pussy's choking my dick."

At this point, all rational thoughts had left your brain and all you could do was moan and revel in the pleasure he was giving you. One thing you knew for sure was that he had ruined everyone else for you. After a few moments he moved the hand on your back between your legs to rub your clit and you started screaming in pleasure, feeling yourself flying close to the edge. As soon as Ben realised how close you were, he pulled out and turned you around, lifting you on the table and onto your back, swiftly entering you again.

"I know you're close. I wanna see your face when you cum all over me."

He moved his hand back between your legs to rub your clit in circles, while his other hand moved to your neck, choking you, as he went back to thrusting at his original, rough pace. This new angle somehow making him go deeper than before, hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

"Fuck. I don't think I can last long either."

To that, you finally managed to say

"Cum with me."

which sounded more like a moan than a sentence. You both looked into each other's eyes, moaning, grabbing each other, raking your nails all over his gorgeous, broad shoulders, not breaking the eye contact once. After a particularly hard thrust, you felt a funny sensation, one that you have rarely ever felt, only while pleasing yourself and before you knew, you screamed and started squirting your release, coming undone while Ben kept thrusting into you.

"Oh yes. Fuck. That's so hot baby. Cum all over me. I don't think I'll ever get enough of the look on your face right now. I think I've finally managed to shut you up, fucked your brains out. Fuck I'm cumming."

His thrusts grew frantic, and much harder than before, kissing you roughly, your teeth clashing, and he finally slammed his hips into yours one last time, holding your hips so tight, you were sure you would bruise for atleast a few hours, despite your super healing abilities. Groaning and grunting in his deep voice as thick ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, triggering yet another release out of you, making you squirt even more. He collapsed on top of you, careful that he wasn't crushing you with his weight.

The two of you stayed like that, entangled with each other for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, before he slowly pulled out of you, making you both wince at the sudden loss. As he walked to the living room, "That was it" you thought, a one time rendezvous with Soldier Boy that might have either helped you two or made things worse. He sauntered back in with a towel in hand, towards the sink to wet it, also filling up a glass of water and quietly walking to you, cleaning you up without a word, handing the glass for you to drink. Taking it from him, you looked at him mumbled a soft "thank you", getting down the table, you nudged him to walk out with you, sitting down on the couch and covering yourself with a blanket, while he picked up his surprisingly untorn boxers, putting them on and sitting next to you, making you turn to face him. You both understood you needed to talk about what had just happened.

The shared realisation that the animosity between you two that had led to this impulsively passionate encounter, had somewhere blurred the lines between desire and hate.

Ben began to say "Look, about earlier... I didn't mean half the things I said."

You replied "What? You didn't mean it when you said you want to kiss me and do other filthy things to me everytime you see me?"

Taken aback, with a raised eyebrow and confused express Ben said, "Oh no, no lies there. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."

You cut him off saying "I know, I was just pulling your leg. I've felt the same way about you. Your reputation preceded you and it made me crazy knowing I still wanted you."

He replied, "I think we let our tempers get the best of us." sighing, he continued "I care about you more than I let on."

Which made you sigh in response. "Then why do you never act like it? Making me think of you as a douche who loves berating me?"

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel scared. Scared of how much of a hold you have had on me from the very beginning. It made me feel like a fool at times, I thought the only way I could supress these feelings were by acting like an asshole towards you. I'm really sorry."

Your gaze softened, "I'm really sorry too, my behaviour towards you hasn't been any better either." You continued, "I thought we were destined to be enemies. I don't hate you, I never did. I just wanted you to see the person I am beyond the righteous supe everyone else sees."

Ben slowly took your hands in his, making you look into his eyes. "Now I see you more than I ever thought I would. Maybe.. maybe there's something more here."

You replied, "Maybe there is. What happens now?"

To which he said "We talk. Like normal people. No more running away or avoiding things and arguing for no reason. We figure out where we stand, one step at a time, together."

You smiled, nodding your head. "Agreed. No more hiding how we feel. Besides, I guess I like this way of solving our issues much more." Which made him chuckle and pull you into his arms, staring at you intently, pressing his lips to yours.

Back at the Flatiron building, Hughie sat at his table across from Frenchie, fidgeting with his cup. "I'm worried. What do you think? Will they make up or kill each other?"

Butcher entered the room, a smirk plastered over his face "I'm pretty sure they are fucking like rabbits back there." And boy, was he right.

The two of you went multiple rounds, thanks to your super stamina, christening every possible surface of the safe house. From the couch, to the bedroom and the floor, and the shower too. You had both awoken a hunger, only the other could satiate.

"Now that we're not at each other's throats for the wrong reasons, I think maybe, we'd make a good team after all."

Said Ben, holding you close, running smooth circles on along your arms, with the two of you lying on the bed, tired and basking in the afterglow. You smiled, turning to face him. "We'll have to see about that, you might just be right. For now, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need sleep, we both do. You've worn me out completely."

He chuckled, tightening his arms around you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and lips, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling content in each other's embrace.

It was a start of a connection and understanding that arose from the most unexpected places, even amidst the chaos of a world filled with superhumans and the fight for good. Fiery exchanges and whispered confessions bringing in an unexpected depth to your dynamic, proving that there can be a fragile, pure connection between two polar opposites. Serendipity, often painted as an unusual force, interweaves with fate, guiding people towards love where they're least expecting to find it.

Your story a testament to the unpredicted twists of the heart, proving that even the fiercest adversaries can find redemption in each other's arms.

a/n: Finished watching Season 3 of 'The Boys' just a few days ago and let me just put this out here, Jensen as Soldier Boy is one of the best things to ever happen to this world. Oh! the things I'd let this man do to me-

Been planning this fic for a week now, I really hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this.

I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, improvements, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^

Credits: Banner by @mykento

post divider by @saradika

[xxgothchatonxx]

I cannot believe just how perfect Assad's performance was in that art gallery scene.

I feel like this was to Armand what the confession scene was to Louis. As a viewer, this was the moment where I thought "this is The Vampire Armand". I mean, I've been loving Assad's performance from the start, but I feel like this was the make-or-break moment for the writing of Armand in this show. Because yes Armand is manipulative, yes he does truly horrific things, but he is also broken. He's been hurt so much in his life but what's both so horrifying yet also heartbreaking is how he views that hurt. His devotion to his maker, even after he did so many horrific things to his "beloved Amadeo" (god I felt my stomach drop when he said that...) is so tragic.

And I think Assad captured that tragic devotion perfectly. Because we as the audience know just how fucked up this story is, and I'm guessing the show-only viewers have now got a very strong impression of just how much of a gross asshole Marius is. But Assad delivered those lines like he's telling a fairytale. It's so eerily peaceful and almost romantic, which creates a vivid contrast against what he's actually saying.

From an adaptation standpoint, I think it was a brilliant choice to place this backstory here. Because it provides a logical reasoning for why Armand is the way he is, and why he acts the way he acts (and will act). How he views love, why he's so obsessed with maintaining tradition and order. And I think it's smart from a show perspective to reveal it here and now rather than wait a few seasons. The horror of Armand is still there, but he isn't Armand without the tragedy.

Assad and the writers absolutely nailed this scene. It's such a crucial part of Armand's character and I thought it was both incredibly disturbing but also tastefully done.

[empresskylo]

[part 1] part 2 of touch-starved where Ghost and you have been distant ever since that night. you do not have to read part 1 in order to understand this part btw

a/n: you guys, i am down so incredibly bad. my entire pinterest and tiktok is covered with this stupid mask-wearing man. and i don’t even play the game so it has everyone around me like 🤨 also super annoyed that part 1 glitched or sumn because it posted my unedited version. edited version is on my ao3. anyways, enjoy the smut <3

masterlist

cw: ptsd, smut, p in v, reader described as small and referred to as a woman and blushes once

simon “ghost” riley x afab!reader

wc: 3.3k

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

It was late in the compound, the silent night echoing through the hallways. Ghost and you had, in fact, been awkward the moment you released one another from your embrace. You had shuffled uncomfortably beside him as you both stood up. Ghost cleared his throat and his eyes danced across your face, his eyes unreadable. He shied away and motioned you to follow as you continued heading to base. 

It was weeks after that mission and you hadn’t really seen all that much of Ghost since. You had come up to train with Soap while Ghost was in the room. He swiftly exited, grumbling in annoyance as he left. Soap had raised his brows, noticing the (extra) grumpiness in Simon. 

You tossed and turned in your small room, a tiny bed and a chest of your things filling the space. You usually shared the room with another woman on your team but she was offsite at the moment. 

You grumbled, shoving your boots on as you got up in the dark. You decided you needed to walk it off. Maybe then you could sleep.

In just a tank top and tight black leggings, you left your room. 

You immediately collided with a large, firm object. You tripped, off balance from your boots not being tied, and fell backward. Two strong arms caught you, making you finally look up and coming face to face with Ghost. “Oh. LT,” you said embarrassed.

Ghost set you upright then removed his hands from around your arms, leaving a lingering warmth in their absence. Ghost was busy making his rounds as usual when your small frame came bustling into him. Always so clumsy.

Ghost’s blue eyes scanned your face. He was about to walk away and continue what he was doing, but halted. “Have you been cryin’?” 

You felt your face warm. Why did he always have to be so blunt? 

You shifted uncomfortably between your feet. He tried to get a glimpse of your face but you had shied away, staring at your boots. He could see the dark circles around your eyes from exhaustion. The same that he saw in his own reflection every morning. “Oh, uhm…” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“You still thinkin’ ‘bout that night?” You looked up at him and gave a meek nod. Of course, Ghost was referring to the close call a week ago where you almost got Gaz killed. You all had made mistakes that night, but Ghost had watched as your hand slipped from Gaz’s grip because you had failed to properly secure the rope holding you up. He had seen the horror spread across your face. 

Honestly, you were surprised Ghost hadn’t kicked you off his team yet. Soap and Gaz had reassured you that you were a crucial part of the team and any one of them could have made that mistake. 

But they didn’t. You did.

You watched as Ghost rolled his eyes and gripped his gun on his hip tighter before pushing you back into your room and closing the door. 

He sat on your roommate's bed and pointed at yours. “Sit,” he commanded. 

You did as you were told and closed your eyes. Here it was, the big moment where your Lieutenant finally ripped you a new asshole for being such a fuck up.

Ghost’s husky voice filled the already cramped space, threatening to overfill it. “I lost one of my best men back in the beginning.” Your eyes opened. You could see him in the faint glow of your room’s light. His eyes were heavy, surrounded in black, as he looked at you. “It was because of me.” Ghost felt his fist squeeze harder. You stared at him, realizing he was trying to make you feel better. To tell you how he had done something similar in the past. Though, he wasn’t great with words. You smiled at Ghost’s first kind words to you. “What?” His voice boomed with annoyance.

“Nothing.” Your smile sank as you thought of Gaz and you felt tears begin to well in your eyes again. “I’m not used to all this,” you said, gesturing around you. 

“The military?”

“Being alone.” Your voice was quiet. You had always had your family. Friends. And for all of it to be taken from you destroyed you. You felt a strange sense of relief finding family with these men. They filled the void that you tried to stuff with whatever you could. But there was always that one part that never quite filled.

Your knees brushed against Ghost’s. He reached out without thinking and grabbed your hand. No. You weren’t alone. They were your family now. This was your home.

Ghost was solely wearing his balaclava mask without his usual hard skull addition, which felt more intimate. You could see the instant regret in Ghost’s eyes when he realized what he was doing. As he retracted his hand, you reached out and stopped him. Just like before, your name left his mouth in a faint whisper. You slowly stood, still gripping Ghost’s gloved hand, and pushed him back onto the cot. Maybe it was the way you now knew perfectly well that Ghost was feeling the same absence you were. Or maybe it was the darkroom that gave you confidence. You slowly crawled up beside him, your heart pounding in your ears. You moved dramatically slow, like you were attempting not to spook a feral cat—and in a weird way, you were. 

Ghost’s eyes were burning a hole through you as he just let you touch him like this. He had half a mind to push you away, but his body knew how alone he felt as well. He craved this. 

You rested a hand on his chest and Ghost felt your touch burn him through his clothes. He gently moved his shoulders so he was sliding his tactical gear off. Your small fingers helped, throwing his vest onto the floor. In one swift motion, Ghost decided what he wanted and he pulled you on top of him, your body flat against his. A small yelp had escaped your lips. You were afraid Ghost could feel your heart racing. His arms tightened their grip around you, suddenly overflowing with the need to connect with another human. To have your delicate hands caress him. To feel the warmth of your body against his. 

He slipped his gloves off and he placed his calloused hands on your exposed arms. You held in a tight breath as he gently touched you. 

You felt his chest move as he let out a painful breath. You peered up at him finally, faintly making his eyes and mask out in the dim light. Ghost looked down at you as he felt your eyes lock onto him. You gulped, unsure of what your next moves would bring.

You trailed your hands up, making Ghost’s own slip from your arms and rest on your waist. You propped yourself up slightly as you reached out to Ghost’s mask. He flinched backwards before stilling. Taking that as consent, your fingers pulled the bottom of his mask up from its spot under his black shirt. Ghost was breathing loudly through his nose as you edged the hem of it up slowly. You finally pushed it up, just enough to expose his jaw and the tip of his nose. You stopped there to much of Ghost’s relief. If you had tried to remove his mask any further, he would have likely thrown you off of him. 

“I get it,” he said softly. 

“Hm?” Your eyes traced his lips as he spoke, his thick accent pooling from his mouth that you could finally see. He had quite a bit of stubble coming in. “Being alone,” he finished.

“And do you like it, LT?” Your eyes darted up to his, almost challenging him. Did he like being alone? He had told himself yes for years. Every void he felt didn’t matter. He filled it with violence and bloodshed from striking down his enemies. 

But now, having your warm body flesh against his own, your tiny fingers brushing against his jaw as you pried his mask up, he wasn't so sure. He wanted you. Desperately. 

Ghost’s silence was deafening as he contemplated. Finally, he pulled you up into him, a small “Wha—“ leaving your lips before they were locked with his. Ghost didn’t begin to move until you reciprocated. Then, he deepened the kiss. His mouth attacked yours fervently. Your hand slid up to his chest to hold yourself steady. One of Ghost’s hands tightened on your hip, the other moving into your hair. He pulled you closer, his tongue sliding against your lips. His fingers clenched your hair, a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long. 

As fast as it began, it ended. Ghost pulled back, both of you breathless. His hand didn’t leave its spot behind your head as he spoke. “No. I don’t fucking like it.”

Your eyes widened in reaction to something you couldn’t quite explain. Your body tingled as he stared at you. You moved your fingers to the hem of his t-shirt, edging it up. You wondered if you were going too far. Before you could finish your thought, Ghost pushed you back onto his thighs and tore his shirt off, careful to not catch his mask in the process. At this angle, you could make out the details of his partially exposed face. You saw old, faded scars that trickled across his face. One slid down his neck to his shoulder. 

You pulled your tank top off, your breasts exposed, though he could hardly see in this lighting. You tentatively leaned forward, your chests colliding. You hugged him as close as you could, your body flat against his once again, but without the fabric. Ghost’s arms came up to wrap around you, pulling you into him. You felt a sigh of relief escape his mouth as you held each other, your fingers tracing smooth circles on his side. 

You could hear his heartbeat. You smiled lazily. How much you had missed having someone you trust this close. 

You turned to him and leaned up to kiss again. You could see his hesitation, but he concluded his thoughts by softly kissing your lips. You felt a chill run down your spine. This was the man who could scare a grown man with just a look. The man who gave you orders. The man who couldn’t be killed. A man filled with such rage that it came out in bursts of humor here and there. A man who hadn’t shown anyone his face is God knows how long. 

And then here he was, pressed against you, kissing you so delicately like you might break. His rough fingers ran along your back, the heat from your body making him sweat. 

He should be worried about what this meant for the two of you. How wrong this was since he was your lieutenant. But Ghost’s mind was so preoccupied, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to think about anything other than the way you were consuming him in this moment. 

He felt your fingers fiddle with his belt. A wave of heat ran to his crotch. He pushed you back and you pouted, suddenly embarrassed. You had gone too far. Of course, Ghost wouldn’t want to—

You were cut off when you saw Ghost lifting his hips to push his pants down. You gulped, a blush spreading across your chest. 

He reached out for you. He knew how pathetic he was acting, but he didn’t care. He was drunk off your touch and fuck, did he need more. He wouldn’t let himself ruin this.

His fingers played with the hem of your leggings and he tried to pull them down. You stood up and tore them off before settling yourself on his thighs once again. Your hands rested on his strong shoulders, looking into his eyes shyly. He was breathing deeply as he stared at you. Both of you were shocked at what you were doing. 

“We can stop if…” he started, but you reached out and dragged your fingers along his scruffy jaw, making his words get trapped in his throat. Your finger pads tickled him as they slid down his slightly hairy chest and traced over his faded scars. 

“Do they still hurt?” You asked timidly, afraid you were really pushing things now. Maybe all he wanted was the feeling of a woman in his bed after not having one for so long. You bringing up his battle scars was sure to kill the mood. 

“Not physically.” You felt goosebumps rise on your skin, his voice far deeper than you’ve ever heard him before. You leaned down and placed a kiss against them. Peppering him with your soft lips. Ghost felt his eyes shut as he focused on the way your lips felt against him. Your wandering hands tracing his side and thigh. 

You looked back up at him and his hands immediately went to you. His hand slowly skimmed your thigh, edging closer to your throbbing core. He hesitated before stroking his knuckle against your underwear, making you bite your lip. He was so slow with his movements, wanting to be gentle with you. Shit. Had it really been this long since he got laid?

He watched as your eyes squeezed shut, your nails digging into his shoulder as he continued to drag his knuckles against you. 

Ghost had reached his breaking point when he saw your face drowning in pleasure. He grabbed your hips and flipped you around so you laid sprawled beneath him. You let out a tiny yelp, your eyes wide open now as you stared at a hovering Ghost above you. His hands gripped your panties and slid them down your legs and threw them on the floor. He looked down at you, his mouth all but watering. You tried to squeeze your thighs together feeling flustered at his gaze. He pried your legs apart and settled himself between them so you couldn’t close them again. “Don’t get shy on me now, pet.” 

You took in a sharp breath at the name he just called you. Unsure if you liked it or not, Ghost halted movement before you were prying at his waistband. His husky chuckle vibrated through his chest. 

He pushed his underwear down just enough to free himself and he rubbed himself against you. You gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders again. You wanted to look down and see if he was as big as you thought but it was too dark in your room to tell. You’d find out soon enough. 

Ghost’s pupils were blown as he pressed against your soaking entrance. He crashed down on top of you and held himself up with his elbow, his chest pressing against yours, his other hand lining himself up. As he began to push himself into you, his hand came up, getting lost in your hair. 

You both groaned as he stretched you out, slowly filling you. He really was big.

After a few painfully long moments, he bottomed out, his breath hot on your neck as he panted against you. His hands continued to wander across your body, grabbing the fat around your thigh and hips every so often. Then moving up to caress the swell of your breast. Ghost pulled out and then pushed himself back in rather roughly. “Simon,” you gasped. His name in your voice had his eyes honing in on yours. He sounded gruff as he spoke, “Am I hurting you?” 

You shook your head, desperate for him to slam into you again. You bucked your hips against him and he got the message. 

Simon began at a steady pace, growling each time his cock hit your cervix. You dug your nails into his back, Simon painfully stretching you out. 

Simon’s face sank into the crook of your neck, leaving little kisses against your skin as he rutted into you. He smelled of mint and gunsmoke. His hand slid along your body and up into your hair, giving it a slight pull. You mewled, your eyes fluttering. “Like all the lil’ noises you make,” he grumbled between grunts. 

Your walls clenched against him and he swore under his breath, his hands gripping you tighter. His body laid flat against yours, your nipples pressing against him. You were completely engulfed by this large man; you never felt so safe. 

You began muttering incoherent words as he filled you up, completely drunk off him. Ghost pulled away and looked down at you. Your eyes met his. Your face was glowing with sweat as the two of your bodies intertwined in the small quarters. 

Ghost gripped your thighs and pushed them towards you so he could get a better angle, all while never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned. Your hands clenched the bedsheets, your walls tightening in on him. You both were dangerously close. 

One of his fingers began to rub circles on your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you repeated his name again and again. “Look at me,” Simon demanded. Your eyes flew open and locked back with his as you came, your walls clenching Ghost’s cock painfully tight. He moaned as he watched you gasp in ecstasy. 

“Fuck. Simon,” you mewled. That was enough to push him over the edge. He pulled out of you before stroking himself and coming against your lower belly, leaving ropes of his come dripping down you. 

You both struggled to catch your breath. Simon rubbed his cock against your slit, riding out both of your highs. 

Your orgasm floated away as you came down from your high, relaxing into the pillow. The dark makeup around Ghost’s eyes were smudging from the heat, but it just made his eyes even more captivating. 

Before you could speak, Simon leaned over and grabbed his t-shirt, wiping his mess off your belly. 

Ghost’s eyes analyzed your face, trying to read your expression. He pulled his mask back down and silently got dressed. You did the same. 

You looked up at him as he towered over you, he seemed a lot shorter when you were both horizontal. He had everything on except his shirt, which he held in his hand. You’d be lying if you said the sight of Ghost’s exposed chest wasn’t sending a rush of warmth between your thighs again. 

He stood there, lost for words. You shifted between your feet as he intently watched you.

“I, uhm. If you want, you can…well. You can lay here with me. For a bit. If you wanted.” 

Your face was red hot as you babbled like an idiot. But you desperately wanted Simon to lay down and hold you as you fell asleep, so you didn’t care about acting like a fool at this very moment. 

Simon pushed off his tactical gear instantly as if he was just waiting for the invite. He loomed over you before pulling you down with him into your tiny bed. Ghost took up most of the mattress so you were forced to lay flat against him, his arm gripping you close like he never wanted to let go. Your back pressed into his chest and your eyes felt heavy at the rise and fall of his breath. 

You felt him reach up and take his mask off, clutching it in his hand as he held you, his mouth next to your ear as he shared your pillow. You fell asleep to his warm breath and nose nuzzling you. You’d worry about the awkwardness tomorrow, especially when you realized Ghost would have to somehow exit your room without getting caught. 

Ghost’s hand clutched you against him the entire time he slept. He hadn’t slept this well in years. 

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

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A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[artbyblastweave]

To be honest, while I know that you've discussed a Worm/Marvel "crossover" before, considering how unusually different both Ultimate Universes are from mainline Marvel, how would a crossover with Worm go for those?

(Side note: I'm mainly asking for the potential thought experiment of: what if Cauldron met the Maker and all of the immense bullshit that would result from that.)

I don't think I'm totally capable of answering the back half of this ask because I haven't read The Maker comprehensively- Aside from his pre-heel turn stint in Ultimate FF, It's basically only Secret Wars, a couple of the times Ewing used him, and the current New Ultimate Universe.

So what I find interesting about this prospect is that Worm and Ultimate Marvel are very aesthetically compatible, right, you aren't going to drop one character into the other's setting and have them constantly going "what the fuck is going on" the way you would if we subbed in 616 Marvel at it's most four-color. But the worldbuilding and themes are actually very divergent in ways that are interesting to look at. Namely-

Worm is a grim, grim setting, but it's also attempting to replicate the status quo at Marvel and DC where, despite occasional attempts at government sanction or integration, there's fundamentally a weirdly high cultural tolerance for independent vigilantism as long as the person doing it is wearing a costume. Their version of Registration- The Protectorate- is a very carrot heavy initiative, when we see Kid Win making the recruitment pitch to Chariot it's all about the support you get, the funding, the backup, the PR help. Individual street level heroes get nailed to the wall or hung out to dry all the time, but collectively, they're granted a lot of discretion in that they're allowed to exist at all. And the fundamental reason for this is that the government is scared of them. They might be able to smack down individual upstarts who try to go full warlord or revolutionary, but they don't control the overall distribution of powers and there are so many of these assholes, three-quarters of whom go career criminal due to some combination of trauma, material want, neuroticism or ideology. So any set of norms that gets as many of these people as possible to behave in a slightly-less-antisocial manner is something that they're going to roll with. Worm is a world held hostage by the typical superhero paradigm, buckling under its weight. Crucial to this dynamic is that powers aren't a man-made phenomenon, and they're barely a man-influenced phenomenon via Cauldron.

But with the Ultimate Universe, a major pillar of the deconstruction and the worldbuilding is that superheroes would not be allowed to operate in the typical wild west paradigm. There's a much stronger divide between sanctioned heroes (The Ultimates, The Fantastic Four), grey-zone heroes like the X-Men, and then the out-and-out outlaw street level heroes like Daredevil and Spider-Man. A major plot point is that Nick Fury and his spooks very predictably figure out who Spider-Man is almost immediately; he's only able to continue operating as a street-level hero in the usual manner due to Fury's implicit sanction, because Fury is trying to groom him to eventually join The Ultimates. Moreover, a lot of the rest of the street-level capes (as depicted in Millar's Ultimates) are cast as genuinely incompetent puds, only not cracked down on because there's no real reason to. (Note that I have a seething hatred for this particular beat in practice because it deprived us of an Ultimate Luke Cage worth having, but I get what Millar was gesturing at with it.) All of this, likewise, is downstream of the fact that powers are almost totally a man-made phenomenon, with almost all superhumans being downstream of Military-Industrial Complex attempts at reproducing Captain America; it's not an out-of-control supernatural phenomena that they're trying to get in on, It's a government-made phenomenon that leaks like a sieve and eventually spirals out of control. The Ultimate Universe is fundamentally about Hubris in a way that Worm isn't.

Both settings converge on a state of societal collapse due to the advent of superpowers; Ultimate Marvel was gesturing at an impending superhuman-driven World-War Three for a while before things spiraled into the comparably destructive nonsense of Ultimatum, The Maker, The (partial?) balkanization of the U.S. and the rest of the crisis cavalcade that led into the 2015 Secret Wars and the total destruction of that universe. Worm suffered the much more tightly-directed Apocalyptic Bad Time with which we're all familiar.

As for a crossover premise, I'd have to say that post-gm Taylor getting marooned on 1610 and winding up in the orbit of 1610 Peter Parker specifically- as opposed to the MCU or 616 versions, with whom I've seen this done- is an underexamined hook. Ultimate Spidey represents a deft integration of Peter's best and worst personality traits. The early-run ditko-style dickishness is recontextualized as an anger about the state of the world, the crazy-making sense that bullies and dictators appear to have free run of the world and nobody but him is doing anything about it. Which, given the state of The Ultimate Universe, falls in the middle ground between typical teenaged myopia and a sober assessment of what he's up against.

Remind you of anyone?

[slytherslvt]

Video Games- BSF! Theodore Nott x Roommate! BSF! M! Reader

fic inspired by this picture

Theodore has been playing video games for the past hour. And you? You’re horny. Except the only person in this house is Theodore, your best friend and roommate. However, you’re desperate and you have given him blowjobs before. So, that’s why you’re now on the floor between his legs, his arms around you, holding his controller as you take him into your mouth.

Theodore's eyes flicker between the screen and your eager mouth, his heart racing with both excitement and frustration. He's in the middle of a crucial game, but the way you're sucking his cock is threatening to derail his concentration.

"Alright, guys, I'm gonna have to mute for a sec. My roommate's being extra needy tonight," he mutters, his voice shaking with lust.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Theodore can't help but smile as he adjusts his position on the couch, giving you better access to his cock. "Fuck, you're so good at this. Keep going, love.”

You look up at him as he unmutes his mic, going back to his game of Grand Theft Auto. He’s talking to his friends, voice shaking slightly. His knuckles are white from gripping the controller to steady himself.

You pull back slightly to lick at the tip a few times, before going back down on his cock again.

Theodore grits his teeth, trying to focus on the game. "Alright, let's take these assholes out," he says, his voice more strained than he'd like.

His eyes dart to you as you lick his tip. You're so good at this, and he can feel his resolve slipping. He knows he's close, but he doesn't want to ruin the game.

"Fuck, I need to mute again, guys. I'm sorry, it's an emergency," he says, silencing his mic. "Oh, God, you're going to make me cum, aren't you?"

You give a soft moan around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. He can't hold back any longer. He releases into your mouth, and you swallow his seed greedily.

“Good boy,” he says. And that makes your cock twitch in your hand before you cum, as you were masturbating the entire time you were sucking him.

edit: society if i didn’t have a typo in every single fic i’ve written so far

[mangoshorthand]

A rough outline to rewrite S4

We didn't need a big apocalypse. We needed the umbrellas to symbolically overcome their childhood abuse.

We begin...

A few months post-reset. Nobody remembers the Umbrella and Sparrow Academies. This Universe kinda sucks too: Reggie's monopoly on everything has created some serious wealth inequality and social issues. The family are all kinda screwin' around, finding their feet to varying degrees of success.

Luther's tirelessly looking for Sloane

Diego and Lila are preparing for parenthood, both freaking out but excited over it. Diego is very protective. Cute, but suffocating.

Allison's got everything she ever wanted, but it still feels hollow and (surprise) she still has her powers and is still abusing them to get what she wants. Her and Ray are on the rocks because he's now a social-justice advocate, and Allison doesn't want to rock the boat with Reginald.

Klaus is loving life. Addiction's easier to battle with no ghosties to blot out. Being mortal sucks but he only found out about it a few days ago anyway so it doesn't change much.

Five is stuck in juvie getting mandated therapy, gets diagnosed with PTSD and, against his will, starts to work on feelings of anger towards his siblings for their lack of appreciation. (Hmm sounds familiar...I actually have a fic....)

Viktor, loyal to Luther, is trying to help him find Sloane and is sort of taking the lead role on it because Luther's struggling.

Ben starts off being a selfish asshole, but it all feels empty and lonely, so he semi-reluctantly joins Luther and Viktor trying to find Sloane, his only sister.

Essentially, everyone's setting themselves up to have satisfying character arcs that resolve the shit brought up in previous seasons.

MEANWHILE

We discover that, because Reggie was interrupted resetting the universe, it's all kinda fragile.

At different rates, the Umbrellas slowly start to gain back their powers. It turns out they lost them temporarily after Reginald used their marigold to power the reset machine, but it's effectively bound to their DNA, so it regenerates within them just like any other cell would, (explaining why Viktor removing it from Harlan didn't work in S2). And then we discover that Reggie's autocracy and constructed happiness with Abigail is contingent on continually maintaining a 'hole' in the universe left after the incomplete reset. He needs a Marigold battery on hand to try and plug the gap. And we discover Sloane, memories wiped and constantly hooked up to a machine that sucks out her Marigold as quick as she can regenerate it, (and Reginald has his eye on them all as potential backups).

So...

The band gets back together! Time to rescue Sloane and defeat their Dad!

Ben is PUMPED, starting to realise that maybe the Umbrellas are family too.

Luther goes hulk for love.

Diego is terrified Lila will get hurt and wants to effectively lock her up in a closet again like in S3, but he learns he can't do that, and Lila kicks ass while super pregnant.

Five initially refuses because he's salty they left him in juvie and is sick of them undervaluing him but eventually gets his shit together and rides in at a crucial point to save the day. He finally gets a fucking hug.

Allison feels guilt, and anger at Reginald. The way he's exploiting people is nakedly obvious now, and she finally joins Ray in the fight

Viktor's leading the charge. He's unashamedly the leader and the rest are looking to him for guidance.

Klaus is suffering again. The ghosts and immortality is back, and meanwhile the little girl in the void is being super cryptic and annoying, making veiled foreshadowing comments every time he ends up in the void, but she does reveal that she is why he is immortal begin with. It was never his power, it was her sending him back every time.

And...

We have a showdown with ass-kicking and Reginald screaming that they're dumb kids who don't know what they're messing with, but screw him! And when they're confronted with Reginald's hole (heh heh), everything the little girl in the void said becomes clear to Klaus. He has to touch Reginald's hole (never gets old) with his powers activated to act as a conduit for the girl, the creator of the universe. This will allow her to fix the universe back to her original design without all Reginald's tampering. Klaus is the connection between the world and the void and, powered by his Marigold, she can use his memories to put it all right. It's a Deus ex machina.

The only problem is, he will die in the attempt. This is the 'use' she told him she had for him in one of the previous seasons, (or maybe that was the comics?). Klaus realises that this might actually be his one opportunity to die. The alternative is to live forever, never fully reuniting with Dave and watching his family die off one by one. So he does it. He fingers Reginald's hole, (harshly, with no prep). Klaus makes a heroic, Christ-like sacrifice and boom, the reset completes. We are effectively in the first timeline, in the Academy courtyard with no apocalypse on the horizon. Reggie is dead, all most of the symptoms of his autocracy are gone. All is well, except our heroes are just sad. Klaus fixed it, but now they've lost their glue.

But...

Klaus awakes in the void, happy and at peace. Dave is there, and the reunite, but it's clear he's sad about what happened. The little girl is there too, and she offers Klaus one last go at mortal life, because she finds him kind of annoying to have around anyway.

Klaus agrees, saying goodbye to Dave until they meet again, and then he falls out of the sky and lands with a smack in the courtyard. He explains, and many Jesus jokes are made.

After the revelry is over, there's a moment where the siblings go: "Huh, what now?" as they realise they still have a lot of their old problems and a lot of inner work to do.

And then Lila goes into labour. We finish on a birth montage. Everyone holds the baby, tears are shed and they end the series together. Not perfectly happy and still dysfunctional, but at least they have the chance to get better now.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

DROP YOUR DX FOR VOX !!!!! Please and thank you.

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

(I've already posted some stuff here so I'm not going to repeat myself.)

Okay, so, Vox has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). It's crucial to distinguish this from "common narcissism" (people often described as "narcissists" by others just because they are egotist assholes; kinda ableist, you shouldn't do it because it's extremely stigmatizing towards people suffering with actual NPD) . While those individuals typically function well, those with NPD exhibit all the traits – grandiosity, egocentrism, attention-seeking, intense power fantasies – but as it's a disorder, these traits lead to inflexible and maladaptive patterns of behavior and cognition.

NPD has its roots in intense feelings of shame, low self-compassion, and self-loathing. In my interpretation, Vox has always felt inadequate. His father inherited an enormous amount of money, establishing a media conglomerate in the 20's. Vox's mother, captivated by the world of movies, used them to escape her reality as a trophy wife. Despite her dreams of becoming an actress, Vox's father, possessive and protective, prevented her entry into the entertainment industry. As a compromise, he made their son a child actor, with the condition that it would be temporary. When Vox grew older, he was expected to transition to learning business and other skills, ultimately to take over the family's empire.

So, Vox was never enough for either of his parents. His father thought of him as annoying and unserious due to his talkativeness and exaggerated behaviors, attributing it to growing up surrounded by actors. As for his mother... Vox turned out to be a terrible actor, struggling to convey emotions that weren't bombastic and over-the-top. Being a teenager is humiliating enough, but imagine being a teenager bad at something and forced to do it for a worldwide audience, when the whole production crew is annoyed with you. Fortunately, he grew up to be devilishly handsome (not to be a simp, I just believe someone must be handsome to endure the ethereal punishment of having their face swapped for a TV screen) and entertaining, leading them to make him a TV host and media personality.

Anyway, NPD is all about creating a perfect self and projecting it to the world when you're deeply ashamed of your true self. It means that, no matter what you're doing, you're constantly concerned about how it looks to other people. You constantly play an exhausting game, trying to win gold stars of social admiration for every-fucking-thing, guided by superficial ideals of wealth, perfection, beauty, and, above all, power. One reason Alastor's existence bothers Vox so much is the fact that he cannot comprehend the idea of someone choosing radio over his "objectively better and correct" medium. Vox lacks the ability to understand nuanced sentiments, which ironically makes him thrive in Hell. In this anarchocapitalist, lawless society, survival of the fittest prevails, and this is a game he excels at playing.

Generally, the best approach for individuals with NPD is to pull them out of delusional thinking by confronting their beliefs about the world and themselves with reality (it should be performed by qualified therapist, especially when someone hasn't completed any kind of therapeutic process yet). However, in Hell, Vox's behavior was no longer in violation of social norms; on the contrary, it was highly rewarded. Consequently, he completely lost his shit, became unhinged, and began acting on all his previously suppressed urges. He finally fulfilled all narcissistic power fantasies and became (almost) untouchable. Now, he's ready to kill anyone who questions him, seeing it as threatening to his fragile image of the perfect self.

He exhibits strong bipolar tendencies. Most of the time, he's power-tripping in a semi-maniacal state. Periodically, he undergoes deep, depressive episodes, locking himself up in his apartment and avoiding interaction.

Constantly guarding this fragile image of the perfect self that he built is exhausting. The bigger this image gets, the more fragile it becomes, like a house of cards. And guarding it becomes more and more exhausting. But there's nothing scarier than the idea of the facade falling apart and people seeing him as he is: imperfect and vulnerable, damaged and ashamed, rotten and evil. Deep down, he knows he's unlovable, and it hurts. He knows that true love exists; he craves this ultimate form of admiration and devotion, but it requires vulnerability and honesty, which he's not capable of. He's only vulnerable with Valentino, and only occasionally when he's intoxicated or when Val fucks every last thought out of his body. He's very much a controlling top insecure about his masculinity, so the latter happens rarely.

Also, drugs. Oh, do this man enjoy some coke. Other drugs and booze, not so much; they make him feel less in control. But getting coked up, going out, causing a scene, killing some poor souls, and relishing this feeling of being completely untouchable? Feels so good.

When it comes to Alastor, he hates him because he's jealous. Despite all his efforts—building a perfect persona, a perfect company, perfect entertainment—this stinky, outdated, and boring radio demon gets so much attention and admiration that should be his. Moreover, he feels that Alastor can see right through his bullshit. He's so paranoid about it that he's almost certain Alastor knows about his childhood traumas, about his death, about all his truths, and could one day broadcast it for all people of Hell to hear. So, he needs him dead.

Note: these headcanons (especially Vox's past) are very important part of my fanfiction. Please feel free to use them in your fics but I'll appreciate if you tag me 🩷

Velvette hc | Valentino hc | Vees + Angel hc | VoxVal hc

[irisintheafterglow]

Hey!! Can you write some fluff hcs of katsuki taking you to prom? Thank u so much! 🥰

AAAAAA YES I CAN I LOVE THISSS fun fact i didn't get to go to senior prom because i got sick on the day of :(( but i love any excuse to wear a fancy dress !!!

cw: swearing, implied fem!reader but no she/her pronouns or descriptions, this got super long because i got carried away oops :)) hope you like this!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

alright let's be honest if y'all don't already know each other, there's no way he's asking first

he'll think you're super pretty but be too proud to break the tough guy facade and make a move first

buuutttt if you're already kinda in with the bakusquad then it's a little easier for him to ask

and by ask i mean just tell you that you're going to prom with him

you're sitting next to him in the common room doing homework and he just goes

"go to prom with me."

"huh?"

"go to prom with me, 'cause who the fuck else you gonna go with."

"you're a royal asshole, you know that?" and then you pack up your stuff and go back to your dorm and he's like wait shit fuck that's not how that was supposed to go fUCK

so then the next day he's like "go to prom with me."

"are you fucking serious-"

"please?"

and this man never says please so you decide to give him a shot

you've thought he was attractive since your first year but didn't think he would be interested

and then, when you became friends, it seemed abundantly clear that he was too busy training and going on missions to have a relationship

when really he's just terrified of losing you if you don't reciprocate his feelings

so after much convincing from the rest of his friends, he mustered up the courage to ask you tell you to go to prom with him

you already know he was in the group chat after the first attempt to ask you going like

"guys i fucked up"

"bakubro what did you do"

"i told them to go to prom with me and they walked away"

"i think you're leaving out a crucial part of the story"

"ok and i said no one else would go with them"

"dUDE"

"IDIOT"

"WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT"

"I WAS FUCKING NERVOUS"

if you don't already have a dress, he's going dress shopping with you

sits in the waiting area of the fitting room holding a stack of glittery fabrics and doesn't give one (1) fuck about it

definitely the type to whistle under his breath when you walk out in ~the dress~

he has no idea what the fuck he's doing so he's a little,,,,abrasive when it comes to shopping with you

"you need shoes? let's get you some new fucking shoes, then."

"that color is hideous. choose something else because you're too good-looking for shit like that."

"d'you think this color would look good with my eyes? no? damn, harsh crowd."

on the night of prom he's 20 minutes early to pick you up

so he just sits on the floor of your dorm in his suit with his arm propped up on his knee while he watches you finish your makeup

he's mentally taking note of the products you use and the colors you like so if you ever ran out, he could get them for you

you come out of the bathroom and ask him how you look and he genuinely feels like he's suffocating because he can't breathe

after like 30 seconds of staring he just

"damn."

is attached to you at the hip for the remainder of the night

i'm not kidding

his arm is around your waist at all times unless you go to the bathroom or he goes to grab a drink

brags about how good you look at any chance he gets

"yeah, see that dress? i helped pick that out, assholes," he says with a shit-eating grin and the rest of his friends are like 👍ok bro

they know how big of a crush he's had on you so they're amused by how smug he is now

if you force him onto the floor to slow dance he forgets all sense of rhythm

keeps stepping on your feet

tells you to move even though he's stiffer than a wooden board

has no idea where to put his hands and can't look you in the eyes without turning bright pink

you kiss him on the cheek and he fucking freezes LMAO

turns over his shoulder and sees his friends with their phone cameras out like paparazzi (he doesn't mind)

asks you out properly at the end of the night and it's not just a command

instead of "get lunch with me sometime" it's

"get lunch with me sometime? if you wanna, you don't need to if you don't want to-"

and then you kiss him! to make him shut up! and he's a feely mess for the next three days straight until he sees you again

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[foursaints]

how do you think regulus eventually over time changes james??? is his labyrinth search done or is it sort of a "i fall to pieces when i'm with you type beat?

to be crass about it: he makes james less of a gigantic annoying asshole 😭

james potter is interesting because to 1/2 of the population he’s the coolest most desirable dreamboat (his perfect sports! his perfect hair!) but to the other 1/2 he comes across as the most insufferable prick of all time for the exact same reasons <- if you’ve ever been even slightly an outcast you’re in this category. #deathtojfp

(i believe that even my remus had trouble warming up to james at first) (12 year old remus is fresh off the train from berlin w/ his Poverty Rags and Shaved Head staring at him like 😒🚬 while 12 year old james is like Holy fucking hell is that remus lupin kid SMOKING?? he’s SO cool sirius don’t you think that’s so cool. <- remus is quickly incapable of withstanding the James Potter Radiant Megawatt Friendship Grin. he’s only mortal)

crucially: james potter is an obnoxious frat-star athlete who has a beer pong tournament bracket pinned to his fridge. WITH an adorable nerdy lisping boy scout deep down. (and yet another jock even DEEPER down, sort of a sandwich situation)

reg’s existence does the important work of making james realize that 1) it’s actually super messed up & insane to view the world through the lens of Good People and Bad People, and even worse for james to decide that He is the one who gets to make those moral judgments. and 2) old spice body spray smells fucking disgusting seriously potter get it together

but once regulus manages to effectively permanently do away with james potter’s Douchey Surface Layer he unintentionally creates a monster. because after james potter becomes Humble and Self Deprecating and comfortable enough to be a charmingly dorky overenthusiastic nerd about things (the way he was as a child) it’s like….. oh god. he’s even MORE perfect than before. who DOESNT want him. who is even capable of not wanting him under these conditions. look at the way he fumbles clumsily with his glasses!! oh god, he’s geeking out about different brands of hiking shoes!!!!!!!

meanwhile regulus is standing back with his arms crossed smugly. he’s like: That’s Right. I Did That.

[lovelykil]

Killua hcs for a s/o who works at a book store that sells manga and anime stuff and games? (There’s a place similar to that at the mall I like) but keeps getting hit on by customers (nothing bad just like innocent flirting since they don’t know she’s taken)

also I know you don’t rlly write for killua anymore so feel free to ignore this! 💥 have a nice day

headcanons─

: ➛killua

hc; reader who works at the book store that gets hit on

note; PAUSE I love the book store 😔😔 I will not be ignoring this

the silverette comes and visits you every so often at your job whether with gon or just himself.

he likes to look around, slowly wandering to where you're at. He'll maybe fuck around and switch some books cause he's an asshole

he only does this to get your attention though and you always catch him in the act with that mischievous grin painted on his face. His unique hair isn't something you see everyday so it's very easy to spot him.

you're handling a customer, trying to scan their manga and a few pieces of merch from that anime series whilst watching him intently.

you shake your head at the boy with an unphased look, putting the customer's items into the bag. Killua from afar, smirks and quietly walks away from the scene. He grabs a random manga from a shelf before sitting somewhere close to the register.

you sigh, it wasn't an extremely annoyed one just a 'my gosh this boy' one if that makes sense

when you sigh it triggers the customer in front, he quickly notices and says something.

"oh what's the matter? Is the manga I picked not to your liking?" The man grabs his wallet. Your attention was brought back to your working space quickly, you let out a light chuckle with a head shake.

"no no, I adore Death Note, it's just a.. long day I guess." The guy nods as he finds his card to pay. He hands you the card and you take it to slip it in the device.

"I understand Mondays are crucial." He laughs which makes you smile at the accuracy of his statement.

you slip the plastic out and hand him back the card, "seems like you get it." You once again smile, a polite and gentle one as you hand him his bag. He smiles back, reaching for his bag.

"you have a nice smile you know that?" His compliment throws you off for a moment considering Killua was just a few feet away, it was such an innocent thing to say but coming from a man.. it might make kil get the wrong idea.

you laugh nervously, covering your mouth. "uh thanks." He takes his bag and nods before leaving though he studies your face once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend flipping through some random manga, you take a breath.

maybe he didn't hear that.

"can I buy you coffee sometime? There's that Cafe down the street if you know what I'm talking about." He points in the direction of the Cafe. Your eyes grow wide at his proposal, unaware of what to say next.

your eyes immediately fall onto the ground to reply. "uhmm I'm not sure, ahaha.." suddenly the floor looks exquisite today.

the guy talks some more, trying to persuade you otherwise until you eventually get another customer and he is forced to part away.

after your shift is done you breathe in and then sigh, making your way to blue eyes. Though he wasn't in his spot anymore but now in your personal space.

"you have a nice smileee, huh??"

"OH KILLUA jeez!" You jump back, obviously startled at his presence appearing in front of you so quickly. He stands with his arms tucked with an irritated facial expression.

long ass intro 😭🙏🏾 but anyway

I wouldn't say he's jealous but rather annoyed? Or maybe a combination of both.

annoyed because who do those people think they is flirting with his gf like.. 😒

and jealous because you're HIS, and he's kinda afraid someone will sweep you off your feet, and as soon as he knows it you've found someone else.

so to avoid this from happening he usually lingers around the register, you know usually annoyed killua stuff

when your break comes though you make sure to bring him to a secluded space, away from the public eyes to showerr him with kisses and words that make his face flush. Since he doesn't really do public affection you usually do this when he comes to visit.

"you know you can't stare down the customers when they open their mouths to say something." You smile, grazing your thumb along his cheek.

"at least I didn't do what I did last time." He sticks out his tongue as you remember. "Throw a book at them? Yeah I guess.." You snicker, pulling a piece of his hair to twirl around.

"have I improved or what?" He asks, grinning in the moment as you mess with his hair.

"killua you threw a gojo pen at a guy last we-"

"have I IMPROVED or WHAT"