#and for 1920... god it's just so so good
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Seeing as it's Black History Month, I'm gonna take a break from your regularly scheduled girlblogging to be a film nerd and beg every single person reading this post to go and watch Within Our Gates (1920).
Within Our Gates is a feature-length silent film written and directed by black filmmaker Oscar Micheaux and it is a miracle that we have it today. The film was believed to be lost for years until a SINGLE surviving print was found in Spain, translated back into English, and recut to match the original as closely as possible. (This is actually not uncommon in the realm of old film a lot of lost films get found in random closets but ANYWAY.) The film tells the story of Sylvia, a southern schoolteacher who travels up north to raise money to keep her school open. It explores how her life and family have been affected by racism, abuse, and sexual violence, as she falls in love, works to save her school, and grapples with her place as a black woman in the antebellum south. If that's not enough to get you interested, the film is also kinda batshit. There are shootouts! Affairs! Someone gets hit by a car! It's wild and dramatic and incredibly engaging.
You've heard of Birth of a Nation, right? Maybe you've even seen it. That insanely racist piece of film history premiered in 1915. Oftentimes people will defend D.W. Griffith and the film itself as being "a product of its time." Well, Within Our Gates premiered in 1920, and it is a product of its time. It depicts white mob violence against black Americans, and how that violence destroys innocent lives and rips families apart. It is written and directed by a black man. All of its lead actors are black. It is an absolutely heart-wrenching, moving, and intelligent film, produced on a shoestring budget, that explores what it meant not only to be a black American in 1920, but what it meant to be a black woman. Different characters have different approaches to coping with racism and strategies for protecting themselves. It's complicated, and upsetting, and one of the most impactful films I've ever seen.
If you can spare an hour and twenty minutes, if you happen to have access to the film through a streaming service (in addition to being FREE ON YOUTUBE, I believe it's on Amazon Prime, Paramount+, MGM+, and some Hulu plans) or an institution (you may have access to Kanopy or a similar platform via your local library or university), it's worth a watch. Play whatever music you want in the background if your version doesn't have any added! Even if you can't watch it for whatever reason, I'd encourage all of you to look into Oscar Micheaux and the history of "race films," films created outside of the Hollywood studio system by and for black Americans.
Don't buy into the false narrative that the only black representation in historical film was minstrelsy and Griffith-style garbage.
#em talks#history#film history#black history#i hope it's like ok for me to make this post as a white lady i'm just very passionate ab film history#and within our gates is an incredible film that deserves so much more noteriety than it has#i feel like people try to act like The Past was uniformly racist and that's just how things were#when the reality is that just like today people fought for their rights and made art and debated different philosophies of liberation#oh also the film can be very disturbing like many many trigger warnings for various forms of violence and assault#but that's part of what makes it so meaningful the fact that it does not shy away from reality yknow#and for 1920... god it's just so so good
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literally, my professor tried to throw out all of my sources last semester because they “weren’t recent” and then was shocked that my historiography didn’t make sense without them. it’s not my fault everyone just relied on a singular 1915 biography for their information
it does make me laugh when general purpose academic advice is like "all citations must be RECENT, if it's over ten years old it's probably been superseded" and it's like. maybe in sciences bro but over here i still regularly have to cite stuff from the 19th century because nobody has written on the topic since
#it’s almost like i sometimes know what i’m doing#some areas just dont get the attention#'recent' in celtic studies = 21st century#'not that old' = author or author's contemporaries still theoretically alive so like. 1970s onwards#'a bit dated' = 1920s-1960s#'goddamit' = 1900-1920#'oh god we're in the niche zone' = pre 1880 also good luck lmao
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Grading Hazbin Characters Based on How Well They Lace Your Corset
cw: Slightly Suggestive content!!
//
Charlie: B-. She can kinda do it, but gets so excited thinking about how pretty you look that her hands keep fumbling, leaving you with a corset that’s comfortable, but not evenly laced if you look closely.
Vaggie: B+. More coordinated than Charlie, but she’s confused as to why you’re wearing this. “Babe, you look fine without this. Won’t it inhibit your movements? Are you uncomfortable?” She doesn’t understand why you want to wear something so fancy for a casual day at the hotel.
Angel Dust: A+++. He can do this in his /sleep/, and the fact that he has four arms is clearly helpful. He laces corsets for himself often, and he obviously can’t see the back when doing it, so when he’s lacing yours where he can see? It’s done in less than a minute, and perfectly. Man is an absolute legend. He’ll also give you tips on how to lace it yourself in ways that won’t be as restrictive, in case you’re planning on…/certain activities./
Husk: Solid C. He /can/ do it, but he doesn’t exactly /want/ to, and he doesn’t have a lot of experience. Besides, he’s really cautious about hurting you, so he probably doesn’t tighten it as much as he should, which leaves the top half slightly loose. (He is looking *respectfully*)
Nifty: F. She simply can’t reach it, and if she manages to jump on your shoulders she’ll just start dusting you like you’re an antique couch. (She’s doing her best lmao)
Sir Pentious: D- (but A for Effort, he’s so precious I can’t fail him) He’s trying so hard ok!! But he can’t keep track of where the ribbons go, and he probably just offered to lace /everyone’s/ corset after yours, so he’s now worried that he will have to do this impossible task not only once, but for everyone in the damn hotel.
Lucifer: C-. Much like his daughter, he’s too focused on how pretty you look, coupled with the fact that…well, he’s Lucifer, he makes rubber ducks for a living, I just can’t picture him being good at this. But by GOD, he will compliment you to no end while he gives you his best attempt.
Alastor: A+. THIS MAN IS FROM 1920’S NEW ORLEANS. HE IS CLASSY AS HELL. HE PROBABLY DID THIS FOR MIMZY EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. He’s not as stylistic about it as Angel, but that’s because he likes things more…traditional. And you can bet your ass that he’s going to make you the best Jambalaya on this side of Hell tonight.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader#angel dust x reader#charlie morningstar x reader#husk x reader#vaggie x reader#sir pentious#nifty hazbin hotel#hazbin niffty
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honestly the positioning of common-sense sun protection- hats, parasols/sun umbrellas, sunscreen, etc. -as either prissy and affected or unnecessary anti-aging obsession is one of the most dangerous lines we've collectively been fed as a society, for 100 years now
like I get where it all started, I do. there ARE health benefits to sun exposure in moderation, those were starting to be understood around the 1910s, and the 1920s fancied themselves the inventors of science and Women Doing Things OutdoorsTM because of some discoveries made and voting rights gained around that time. tanning was the new miracle cure! it meant you were outdoors and active- with no consideration that the "active" part might be what made people feel good, not so much the endless sun exposure! it spoke to European or tropical holidays!
(if you were white. if you had natural, healthy dark skin, no dice; keep rubbing heavy metals on your body to look lighter. there's just no winning)
and unlike forcing factory workers to ingest radium and other harmful fads of the day, the negative effects took years to surface and weren't yet fully understood for what they were
but it took root so deeply that when sunscreen began gaining just a BIT of a foothold...it became associated with the kind of people who use special wrinkle-prevention straws. and some idiot who thinks skin cancer is caused by eating seed oils just reblogged one of my comments on the matter, linking a weird study that claims tanning-bed use is somehow good for you
god
we are never getting out of the Skin Damage Is Beautiful Industrial Complex, are we?
#sun protection#skincare#fun fact: no sun protection is 100% effective so you still get the UV benefits even if you wear sunscreen#because you're not applying it perfectly. you can't! you're human!#the only vitamin d-deficient person I've known wasn't one of my fellow sunscreen militants#she actually made fun of us after her diagnosis...only for her doctor to explain that it actually wasn't related to sun exposure#in her case#she owed us an apology and a half
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the history of animation in a nutshell
Early 1900s: hey what if comic strips could like move?
Late 1910s early 1920s hey what if we mashed this up with live action people?
late 1920s: hey what if this thing had sound?
Early to mid 1930s: hey what if this had people actually talking and also color?
late 1930s: hey you know that super cool movie that one lady animated with paper cut out silhouettes? What if we did that with painted cells? Would people even pay to see that? Never mind it turns out the answer is yes.
1940s: ah shit most of our animators got drafted and/or hate us now cause we weren’t paying them. IT’S PROPAGANDA TIME BABY. Also haha hitler got hit with a mallet and also the most racist depictions of Japanese people ever.
1950s to 1960s : oh what’s this newfangled thing? Television? What if you could air cartoons on it? Oh fuck no I ain’t paying that much to get the charecters to have different backgrounds and for the charecters to like, move fluidly. Also manga and anime are steadily growing more popular.
1970s: (Ralph Bakshi walks into a comics store and finds a furry comic) X rated animated movie? *cue the screams of mothers and their unsuspecting children now being introduced to the revolutionary idea that cartoons don’t equal kids stuff? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?
1980s to 1990s: we can have full on animated Broadway musicals? Wait, what do you mean animated movies can count for the Oscar’s? What do you mean now they get their own catagory because the academy still thinks their for babies? Anime and manga are taking off in the west. SWEET JESUS WHAT DRUGS ARE THE JAPANESE ON SHOWING THIS SHIT TO KIDS. But also why is it so fucking good. Maybe some of these aren’t even meant for kids? Wait We can sell toys to kids with cartoons? Wait we can actually put effort into these cartoons on television? The fuck to you mean we can animate in 3D now? What do you mean we can have well animated, well written sitcom shows like the simpsons? What do you mean you can make cartoon charecters say fuck? What drugs are creators at Nickelodeon on? Do I even want to know?
2000s: oh my god, there is this one show that I really like cause it’s really well written and genuinely funny but I can’t talk about it because it’s animated and we all know cartoons are for babies right? Oh look it’s the transformers movie, look how far CGI has evolved so we can make the transformers in a movie.
2010s: holy shit I know these shows are for kids but they’re just well written and have so much meaningful things to say about the world. Wait, it’s cool to like cartoons now? They they have fandoms for this? Fuck yeah I’m in. (Enters one of the most notoriously toxic fandoms of all time) THEY HAVE GAY PEOPLE IN THESE SHOWS NOW? AND COMPLEX EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING? AND ADULT ANIMATED SHOWS CAN BE MORE THAN JUST SITCOMS WITH THE SAME JOKES AND STYLE? WHY IS IT THAT EVERY DISNEY CARTOON SINCE GRAVITY FALLS INCLUDE THINGS THAT GET MORE AND MORE FUCKED UP? WHY DO I FUCKING LOVE IT? WHY THE FUCK DID DISNEY DO THE OWL HOUSE DIRTY LIKE THAT?
2020s: I got this show I wanna pitch but it dosen’t fit into any box that the networks want and also I’m afraid that they’ll just randomly cancel it before I can finish the story I want to tell. Wait, I can just post the pilot on my YouTube channel, see if anybody actually likes this thing I made and just make the show independently? FUCK THE NETWORK! I AM THE NETWORK
#Animation#indie animation#cartoons#classic cartoons#disney#warner bros#Out of the inkwell#Flesher studios#Gravity falls#star vs the forces of evil#amphiba#the owl house#steven universe#Bojack horseman#glitch productions#ramshackle#the amazing digital circus#Murder drones#lackadaisy#hazbin hotel#Ducktales#infinity train#ralph bakshi#fritz the cat#sailor moon#neon genesis evengelion#revolutionary girl utena#helluva boss#the simpsons#south park
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Hey, so...
Have you all noticed *how* Crowley and Aziraphale are drinking in 1941? And by this I mean... that they barely are? <wink>
Crowley has been drinking for millennia by this point. He gets drunk as Bildad the Shuite in 2500 B.C.. Aziraphale has been drinking since sometime prior to the scene in Rome, which is also when we see them drink together for the first time. *This* scene is 1941 so countless years and meet ups between Crowley and Aziraphale have taken place since and considering how these two drink together in other situations-- like how completely wasted they were in the "eleven years ago" scene in S1-- this one here in 1941 is *interesting.* Why?
Because friends, that is *one bottle of wine* on the table beside Aziraphale and I can still see wine in it above the label, which means what's currently in their glasses is less than the first half of the bottle... which means the glasses they are sharing now that Aziraphale just poured are their first drinks of the evening... and neither of them are really drinking much of it. That signals an intent not to drink very much at all-- the open bottle probably being plenty for the two of them. They're going slowly, without an intention to get drunk, but not really just to savor together a particularly interesting vintage. They don't seem to be noticing or tasting the wine at all. Aziraphale poured them both a good amount but not overkill but both of them so far in this scene just take cautious, *small* sips of the wine... and they don't need to conserve it, ok?
It's not the war. It's canon that Aziraphale has a case of Chateauneuf-de-Pape that he picked up in the 1920s sitting in the back of this shop at this very minute that he doesn't bust open until "Eleven Years Ago" in the future of S1 and Crowley is a bootlegger in this moment in history lol and also they're both literally magic. They could miracle wine from halfway around the world if they wanted to. There's wine to drink if they want to get drunk...
...and they both have silently agreed that they don't want to.
It is the *only* time that they drink together in a scene that we've seen where they have a mutual agreement to not drink that much. Even when Aziraphale *didn't drink*, he still got *food* drunk while Crowley was drinking in the Job minisode.
But when they're having a drink together in 1941, both of them are very clearly, by a kind of unspoken agreement from the vibes in the room, *not really drinking.* Just a little. A few sips that will lead to a glass or two a piece total, at most-- that bottle split between them would be a lot from the air of and the pace of them in this scene.
And I mean... forgetting for a moment that Aziraphale will get drunk without issue in other scenes, we all know Crowley, right? This Crowley...
In S1, part of *God's narration* lol includes that Crowley and Aziraphale had been drinking for six straight hours in the bookshop together in "Eleven Years Ago." Rome is one thing because they had just had just met up so we don't know how sloshed they got over oysters at Petronius' new restaurant (and would seem likely that they did) but in every other scene when they drink together, basically, they drink quite a bit and both of them usually wind up drunk, especially Crowley.
So why is 1941 different?
Because they're drinking like people who both want to mess around, that's why.
Yeah, people mess around while drunk and I'm sure the same can be said for any of the few Effort-curious angels and demons outside of these two but Crowley and Aziraphale are not a casual hookup to one another-- they're in love, they're best friends, and they haven't been together before after literal millennia of pining and yearning for it. It's not something that's happening while they're drunk. They want to be sober and for it to be special and the evening here in 1941 has really got everything lining up for a perfectly romantic night, if they want it to be. All the rescuing one another and little glances and now Aziraphale's asked Crowley back to the bookshop for a late night drink and they're both drinking like they want it to be tonight.
They're both silently telling one another they want something to happen by the fact that they're drinking with no intention to get drunk. They want to be present. They want to remember. They want each other's explicit consent so they're barely drinking the wine so that it's evident that if things get intimate, it's not because either or both of them are drunk, and no one has to stop over concern over that.
Aziraphale is looking at Crowley looking all dashing, unusually quiet for him, maybe a bit nervous and still hiding a little behind his glasses-- Hell's biggest lush taking the world's smallest, barely-there sip of that wine lol-- and is like how many more tiny sips do we need to take before I can crawl onto his lap...?
Aziraphale's like omg, the sex is going to be amazing... thank God I don't yet know in this moment that something-- like some Zombie Nazis, probably-- will stop us and we'll still be on trying to kiss one another 80 years from now...
#ineffable husbands#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#crowley x aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#good omens 2#good omens 1941#aziraphale kiss crowley in that damn hat before we all lose it already
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The Monster That Lurked
Alastor x GN!Reader
A/N:Hey hey! I'm in a really angsty mood and decided to write a full fledged fic about my own work of ‘Monster In The Woods’!!! YAY!!! ALSO A FRIENDS TO LOVERS DEAL- SUE ME. Also you can picture Human Alastor or Alastor anyway you want cause I don’t really describe him much except for what he is wearing and I picture Alastor a certain way in my head. This got long I apologize.
TW: Set in the 1920-30’s, Human Alastor and his murders. Pre-established relationships, cheating, Alastor “stealing” you away from your husband.Alastor and Reader have known each other for a long time already. Reader is also some sort of fucked up, in like the murder way. Talks about cheating, fighting, Gore, Christianity and religion in general. MURDER VERY MUCH MURDER
Word Count: 7k
1927, the days filled with laughter and partying whilst listening to jazz standing with your husband..well you were waiting outside a sleazy bar for your husband, the same drunkard that your father had married you off to. He wasn’t your first choice neither was he your last choice. You would’ve been fine not marrying anybody and just living your life hidden from prying eyes, you would rather be somewhere in the Louisiana bayou with Alastor. Just sitting and listening to him ramble on about a new show he was talking about or how some poor lad got on his bad side.
But yet you were standing on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy bar with even sleazier patrons as you stared at your husband through one of the windows as he hit on the same poor dame that served him. He cheated all the time and yet you never cared, was it because you never truly loved him or was it the fact you’d rather picture his own death while he begged god for his sins. You couldn’t tell anymore and a part of you didn’t want to know anymore. The other part of you wanted to delve deeper into your own thoughts, wanted to open the door that was locked and barricaded for your own good. You wanted to understand what it felt like to rip flesh from bone and see how long it would take for him to lose consciousness from the blood loss.
A loud honk from a passing car made you jump out of your skin and look around, feeling the small box in your pocket, it was supposed to be for your husband but he didn’t deserve it, he would’ve just sold it eagerly for some kind of money to waste his life away. That’s fine you knew a man who would appreciate it more than him anyway. The same man whose voice was happily broadcasted on every radio for miles around, you could practically hear his smile through the radio static and fuzz. Your heartbeat a little faster than it should’ve just thinking about him, he was your friend and that was it. Friends don’t have crushes on friends. This was just a way to spoil him for being a good friend of yours. Right?
You couldn’t bother him right now, you knew better so you did what you always did. Went back home and made yourself busy until he eventually made his way over to your house. He was always quick enough to get to your house before your drunken husband did but stayed around long enough (i.e in the early hours of the morning) so you wouldn’t have to deal with anything unnecessary and you eventually went to bed. Then he would’ve disappeared for a few days but he came back around. You didn’t question him or his ways, you knew better. A part of you did want to question his motives but you held your tongue like you always did.
Your husband wasn’t a necessarily violent man..just dumb and constantly drinking, said some nasty words too. If it wasn’t for you, Alastor would’ve probably done him in by now. Especially when he was talking bad about his Mother, you saw the way Alastor stared at your husband. The same angry look you gave him when he had gotten on your last nerve. But before Alastor could get to him, some other patron did. Knocked your husband’s nose sideways and a tooth completely out. Bastard deserved it completely and till this day you don’t visit that place. You needed a fucking drink thinking about your husband but the bastard drunk your house completely dry.
A knock on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts and as you turned towards your front door, the man of the hour had walked through your door. A huge grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a bottle of whiskey and in the other today's paper. “Ah ha! There you are, My Dear!” He called out his suit absolutely spotless. A smile formed on your lips as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, waving him towards one of the only rooms your husband doesn’t enter. “You had me worrying there for a moment,” He said tilting his head back towards you as he led you to the parlor room, “Maybe that husband of yours was back from wherever he was lurking.” He finished his smile falling into a snarl, Alastor was also not a huge fan of your husband from the start. You never asked why as you both didn’t want to think of him during your little time together.
“Please..you know better than I do that he’s hitting up on a poor dame at the bar.” You replied, sitting the glasses down on the table causing him to make a noise in acknowledgement, “At this point, Alastor..I’m believing you're a mind reader with how you just appear with whiskey in hand at my front door.” At that? He let out a loud belly laugh leaning in closer to you allowing his gaze to soften as he stared at your features before he leaned away opening the bottle of whiskey. This was going to be a long night for the both of you and you had forgotten all about the gift.
~~~
A couple weeks had passed since you last saw Alastor in person but you didn’t fret, he had called the next day to tell you he had made it back home safely. Something he had picked up ever since you had asked him to stay the night so long ago, you were-..are still scared of your own thoughts. The ones that dare creep out, the ones who tell you to crack open your husband’s chest and rip out his still beating heart. The ones who you don’t dare tell a soul and you sure as hell won’t tell Alastor, he’d think you're insane. But you knew..you were slowly losing yourself and everyday it was one step closer to killing your husband.
Walking into the kitchen and rolling your eyes seeing your husband looking like hell, “Hungover John?” You hissed out as you moved past him a grunt falling from his lips in reply, “Shut the fuck up..” He hissed out speech still slurred as half assed venom dripped from his tongue. “I wasn’t the one up at 1 in the morning drinking with that no good radio host.” You froze your hand twitching towards the knife on the counter but stopped yourself, “I wasn’t the one who was at the bar drinking his sorrows away whilst trying to bed another dame for the twentieth time this week.” You hissed back, sending a glare towards him.
John stood up fully and walked towards you getting into your face, hand raising to no doubt strike you. But nothing came as someone cleared their voice, an icy cold tone to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Friend.” Alastor..fuck you forgot about him and his way of just walking into your house. You had drunkenly given him a key one night, ‘Just in case’ you told him. You were glad that you did because as soon as he heard Alastor’s cold voice he immediately backed up and stormed off deeper into the house.
Alastor’s cold gaze had followed the poor idiotic man as he disappeared into the home before they snapped back onto you. “Are you alright?” He asked the venom and anger laced in his voice gone but you saw how his eyes still held his anger, like they did when that fool had talked bad about his Mother. You often had envy and wished that you could know a mother’s gentle hand guiding you towards a better life. But criminals only give birth to criminals, your mother had left the Earth so long ago you don’t even remember what she looked like anymore but sometimes when you look into a crowd you see a familiar figure and a part of you becomes elated before it crashes and burns into the ground.
“I’m fine, Alastor.” You replied softly as you glanced down the hallway where your husband stormed off. Alastor sat silent watching your face keep still but the sadness in your eyes was apparent, he knew you yearned for freedom and solace. He knew how you would rather be a thousand miles away from your “husband”- God he hated that word and man, if he could’ve he would’ve killed him a long time ago. Walking over he softly hummed, “Let me take you out on the town, Dear…a way to get your head cleared.” He whispered, reaching over and carefully placing his hand on your shoulder. He watched your eyes once almost so lifeless and dull flicker to life at the thought, “All day?” You asked, glancing at him, the warmness in your eyes returning, a small smile forming on your lips. Hook…line…and sinker, he’s got you right where he wants you, perfectly safe in his hands.
“Of course, Dear! Now go on, go get dressed!” he hummed his smile, returning as he guided you to go down to your own bedroom which was supposed to be the guest bedroom. You never explained why you had moved bedrooms but he didn’t need to guess or ask. It was abundantly clear to anyone who had stepped foot in your household, this “marriage” wasn’t full of love. It was only necessary and after the first year of it, you had grown cold. That man had taken away any semblance of your hope and happiness for a better life. Alastor hummed a tune that played from his radio broadcasts as he looked around your home, he’s seen the decor and fake photos that hung up on the wall a million times but yet it never gets old. Especially when he’s staring at the photo of you on your wedding day, the way the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “What are you still doing here?” A slurred voice asked, causing him to calmly look over. His smile grew wider at the sight of the boy in front of him. That wasn’t a man..far from it. “Good to see you at least a little sober, Jonathan.” He hummed, dodging the question thrown his way.
“Shut the fuck up, Alastor.” John threw back, moving closer as Alastor’s eyes darkened. Just a little closer..and then he’d be gone for good. “John!” You yelled out making the man flinch and Alastor’s heart raced, oh how he loved hearing that venom lace your tongue; it was always a delight to see how commanding you were when you wanted to be. When Alastor first met you, you were quiet yet happy and you hadn’t been married to this fool. Such a lovely little mouse minding your own business when you had accidentally bumped into him. He wouldn’t believe anyone if they said meeting you would change his life. You had spilled wine on his suit, yet you didn’t freak out when you saw his eyes flicker angrily. Only apologized and paid for his new suit with the money you had been saving up to leave for good, he wouldn’t find that out until a year later.
John looked over at you with anger but soon he once again stormed out of the house cursing you and Alastor. Alastor looked over at you with a gentle smile returning to his lips as he guided you to the front door. “Come now~ Let’s paint the town red, Dear” He called out laughing at his own little joke making you roll your eyes at his antics. Silly man.
~~~
Hours happily passed by and the day turned into night from swinging into tailors and from jazz clubs to socialite parties so you both could secretly judge people between hushed breaths, he eventually led you down to a park that was lit up with lampposts every so often before sitting down on a park bench under the moonlights soft glow. Your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence as you glanced over at Alastor. His leg crossed the other one, “I haven’t seen someone so eager to play the fool in one of those parties.” He laughed out, tapping his thumb on his knee, “Something on my face, Darling?” You jumped and looked away, “No no..sorry I..I’ve been lost in my own thoughts recently, Alastor.”
He looked over at you, you were unusually silent the whole night. “Can I tell you something?” You asked, watching as you finally looked over, oh he could never get used to those eyes of yours and that darling little smile was everything to him. “Of course, Darling.” He reached over and carefully plucked a stray leaf from your shoulder, his attention fully on you. You looked down, hands trembling..you had to tell him, you could tell him right? “Nevermind it, you’d think I’d gone insane.” You corrected and cleared your throat leaning back into the cooled bench. You felt uncomfortably hot despite the cold air, winter was right around the corner.
Using his hand to rub at his chin as he hummed your favorite tune he played on air, this piqued his curiosity much more than he’d like to admit. “I’d never think such a thing, my friend!” He replied throwing his hand up in the air as if to actually try and swat those thoughts away from your mind. “Tell me whenever you feel ready to do so, my Dear!~” He was always willing to listen to you even if it was about nothing, your voice was practically music to his ears. Closing his eyes as a cold breeze hit his face as he continued to hum along to fill the silent night, he suspected it was your..’husband’..the cause of all your misery. The way your honeyed voice was now constantly laced with venom and authority as if you had to fight to even allow your voice to be heard. Your silence had felt like an eternity for him but he knew it had only been a moment or two, he didn’t realize how addicted to your voice he had become.
“I..I’ve been having thoughts.” You started making him look over at you, his eyes narrowing in concern at your form, how small you had looked at the moment. He had leaned forward and took his jacket off before draping it over your figure not minding how the cold nipped at his skin but he didn’t interrupt you, he knew better to do so. “Angry thoughts..well they started out that way but now they’ve turned into something more..violent.” You explained carefully pulling his jacket closer to your frame, eyes casted off in the woods. You imagine some man standing there, blood covering his hands and drenching his shirt, a wicked smile on his face as he looked up into the night sky and laughed out loud for god to hear him.
Alastor followed your gaze as his humming slowed down until it completely stopped to allow the silence to fill the air, his smile pulling into a more sinister one at how he finally understood. The same one that happened to find its way on his lips after killing his latest victim, he quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth allowing the smile to drop before you could catch a glimpse of it. “I think of what it would feel like to rip flesh from bone..to finally choke him out..I want to know what it feels like to snub out a life..his life. I’m not a violent person and these thoughts terrify me, I try to keep them hidden but…sometimes they slip out.” You finish up finally noticing how tight your throat felt and the tears falling down your face. It felt great to finally get that off your chest but now the anxiety of it all set in, would he rat you out to the police? Would he hate you?
“I don’t remember when they started. Was it when I was forced to get married to him? I’d tell myself I can save enough money and start somewhere new..but then I’d miss you..miss your early morning show and our late night talks.” You confessed spilling your problems out onto the sidewalk like a drunkard when he had spilled his guts on the pavement. You were pathetic in your own way. Alastor watched you for a few moments before carefully pulling you into his side, using a handkerchief tucked into his vest pocket to carefully wipe your tears away. “No more tears, dear friend.” he whispered, allowing you to hide your face into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist.
He was at a crossroad in his own mind, should he tell you not to go with it? He wouldn’t want you to go into this dirty mess. But he also wants you to feel the rush of adrenaline when snubbing out a life, he wants to help. But either way if you did or didn’t he’d take care of it..in some way or another. No one should hurt his little mouse in such a way and get away with it. It was silent for a long time as you calmed yourself and he held you with a softness that was foreign to himself and most others.
“I always..I always imagined running away with you..to some old house down near the bayou.” You whispered out feeling the familiar chain that hung on his vest, the one hidden under his jacket. He leaned his head against yours and hummed in reply. It sounded picture perfect in his mind.
~~~
You sat at the church pew next to your ‘husband’ and kept your head down as you listened in on the priest doing his normal sermon. The only time your husband had decided to not be drunk and clean up for once in his life was always on Sundays or when his family was coming over. Something you always ran away from, you stayed in the empty parlor with a glass of water and a small book. His mother was never kind to you nor his sisters, you chose to ignore them and their gossip. Especially when you had to be seated around them in a church talking about a man who you possibly didn’t believe in but was instead forced to hear this priest talk about whatever was in the bible. Your hands clasped together as your mind kept drifting off.
It had only been two days since you told everything to Alastor, your feelings and how you wished to murder your own husband. You haven’t been able to talk to Alastor since which was fine, he was a very busy man after all. Lifting your head up as you felt your husband nudge your leg with his own, you sent him a glance ignoring how he was practically glaring at you. “Don’t embarrass me infront of my family” He hissed out as you glared at the wall. “They already know how rocky our relationship is, John.” You hissed back, about to leave but someone sat next to you keeping his head down, “Sorry I’m late, Dear Friend.” Alastor whispered, making the anger dissipate in a matter of seconds, “Mother wanted to go see an old friend,” He hummed and got comfortable next to you.
After an hour or maybe it was a good 10 minutes you couldn’t tell but Alastor had successfully dragged you away and out of the church under the guise of it being important and he couldn’t dare interrupt the sermon. You didn’t care now as you laughed at some joke that was pointed towards your husband, walking down the street arm in arm as he used his other hand to dramatically explain everything that’s happened between the hours you both had parted. The crying and confession long gone in your mind as you pointed out the flaws in his story but he had only reached over and pinched your nose between his fingers with only a half hearted threat of keeping his ‘secrets’.
As you both walked down the street the laughter and conversation lulled into a peaceful silence. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, feeling a familiar presence in your pocket, the gift you had forgotten about for weeks now. “Just for a walk through the park, Dear.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smile had formed on your face but your eyes still had that faraway look in them. Guess you were going back into your own head again, “I got you something a while ago and forgot it in my jacket” you called out reaching into your jacket and pulling the small box out, you didn’t want to bring up the fact it was supposed to be a gift for your husband. Alastor abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, “You didn’t need to do such a thing, Dear.” You only smiled at him and gave him the box, “I know..but I wanted to give it to you.” You whispered out watching as he opened the box, his eyes widening. It was one of the newer pocket watches that you’ve had your eyes on for a long while now, “Dearest I..I couldn’t take this.” He replied carefully, taking the watch out, flipping it open and smiling. “But you can..and you will cause it’s for you, Al..”
You loved seeing him smile like that, something that you had rarely seen when you first started hanging out. It’s still mostly rare, especially when he’s had a hard day or the simple fact that you sometimes don’t see him for days on end. He put the pocket watch back into the box carefully, “Guess I’ll have to find to pay you back now?” He hummed out placing the box into his pocket causing you to sigh, “You know you don’t have to do such a thing, Alastor. I..I don’t deserve it.” Only criminals give birth to criminals and criminals don’t get nice things.
“Oh but I think you do,” He replied and leaned down to gently tap your forehead, “Despite what those thoughts of yours tell you.” You blinked and stared at him, “You know me too well,” You huffed turning away from him. “Not well enough!” He called happily following after you and quickly catching up, long legged bastard. You looked up at him as he held out his arm, “Are you sure about that, Alastor? I think you know me better than most people.” You said carefully taking hold of his arm, he chuckled and quicked his step making you practically had to speed walk to catch up with him.
The night truly didn’t stop until you were almost on the verge of passing out from laughter and how sleep creeped up on your shoulders. Alastor’s arm was snuggly wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as the sandman was practically calling your name. “Come on now, one foot up the step.” He whispered as he guided your sleepy self up onto your own porch. “I can walk fine, Alastor. I’m not drunk,” You whispered, shaking your head trying to fight off how your eyes grew heavier. You don’t like being up past a certain time in the early mornings but for Alastor you would’ve done it a million times over….Maybe you did have a crush on him but he wouldn’t love you back in a million years.
You don’t remember when you got into your bedroom, did you black out on him? Yet he was still holding you against his chest as he swayed you to an imaginary rhythm. “And here I thought you had fallen asleep on me already.” He whispered out, causing you to jump out of your skin for a second before you huffed, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do so.” You replied leaning back to try and smooth out his shirt, now noticing his jacket was draped near the door of your bedroom. “Nonsense, I find it comforting in a way that you trust me to fall asleep near me.” He replied watching you, his bow tie had been undone for a couple hours now but watching the way you had subconsciously fixed it for him made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach.
His mind wandered off watching as you blinked the sleep from your eyes to make sure he still looked presentable. He wondered sometimes what it would be like if he married you instead of that idiotic man. “..Don’t leave for too long this time, Al..I know I’ll eventually hear your voice on the radio but sometimes it’s not the same..” You whispered out glancing back up at him, his gloved hand reaching up to cup your face tracing the bags under your eyes with his thumb, “I’ll try, Cher..” He replied as he leaned down to press his head against yours. He couldn’t promise it but he’d try especially since he has been working so hard on his plan to get rid of that idiotic husband of yours.
You leaned your head up, allowing for your noses to brush against one another. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, one of his hands splayed on the middle of your back. Then it had hit you, all those times he had pulled you away from your husband and took you to the places you loved..was he silently courting you? Had he been doing so for days now and you were just too stupid to notice? You gently cupped his face and watched as he had opened his eyes, when did he close them? “I..Alastor? Have you been courting me?” Your voice was only above a whisper making him freeze in his tracks. He was silent for a long time before he nodded and sighed. “I have been yes,” He replied and you felt your face warm, seemingly all of the tiredness from before had dissipated.
His gloved hands came up to carefully grasp onto yours as your thumb caressed his cheek, a faint scar that had healed overtime. You remembered when you saw the scar, yet you never asked, figuring he would’ve told you when he decided to do so. He had yet to say a word about it so it must’ve not been important. In the years that you had known him, you’ve grown to love him and to be wary of him all at the same time. He was a wild mutt waiting to sink his teeth into any fresh meat he could find, he wasn’t the one to be tamed or “domesticated” and you surely would never think to tie him down to a preconceived notion such as marriage or a family life. It took someone truly special to worm their way into his heart and that was a tough act, nonetheless, he had picked and prodded at the worst parts of you wanting to see how quick it took for you to finally snap at him, show your fangs and reveal your weak spots to him. He loved the game of it.
Yet here he was, the same wild animal that used to raise his hackles and bare its sharp teeth was essentially laying down and showing his belly to you. He’d disappear to find his fill and get those fangs bloodied before he’d make his way back to you. Maybe everyone who told you to stay away was right, he wasn’t a man to stick around but here you were inviting the man into your home day after day because you just couldn’t get enough of him.
Blinking your thoughts away you focused on Alastor, how he had leaned closer to you. “May I?” He whispered, ever the gentleman he was, his hands carefully squeezing yours as you nodded your head a small smile on your lips. Wordlessly, he closed the gap and gently kissed you. At first it was such a small kiss but you didn’t want it to end, you just got a taste of what it felt like to be loved..actually loved and it felt amazing, that one small kiss turned into a bigger one as his hands fell down to hold onto your sides.
You would be asleep until lunch the next day, the memory still fresh on your mind as you awoke to find a small gift box on your bedside table. You were going to kill Alastor.
~~~
You sat in an office, legs crossed as you watched the lawyer in front of you collect some papers and give you a passing glance every so often. “Now, it’s to my knowledge you are looking to file for a divorce?” The man asked, causing you to nod, “Now is there a reason for this divorce?” You huffed, how many times did you have to explain it? “Infidelity, I’ve caught him one too many times and I’d rather make this quick.” You huffed out venom lacing your tongue as you watched the older gentleman nod and produced some papers.
After an hour of signing papers and making everything on record you had finally gone home. You didn’t even greet your husband when you walked inside, just placed the papers on the table and left for the day ignoring how he yelled out for you. You had walked all the way to the park, the same park Alastor had walked you to all those weeks ago and you spilled your darkest secrets out into the open. Sitting on the same bench as you watched people pass by as your eyes drifted to the woods, you also knew Alastor was an avid hunter and you’d be alone for a while longer as deer season came around. You’d be alone with your husband and your thoughts. You hoped this divorce would go through but it was a slim chance and then you would rightfully be kicked out of church for thinking of doing such a thing. Laughter rang in your ears as you got lost in your own world, your eyes glued onto the Doe walking out of the collection of trees to find something to eat on.
As the doe finally found something to snack on it had turned its head up and towards you. A small part of you felt a twinge of dread as you stared at the doe and the other part felt calm as the feeling started to grow and settle into the pit of your stomach, your breathing slowed down considerably before the doe had run off seemingly spooked away. You frowned and watched as it disappeared further into the woods. Gloved hands clamped down onto your shoulders making you jump up in surprise and let out a loud scream as Alastor’s laugh was heard from behind you.
You turned on your heel ignoring the passerby who looked on in confusion, “I’m going to kill you, Alastor.” You hissed out trying to hide the prominent blush on your features and how your lips creeped up into a smile. He smirked, he knew you didn’t actually mean you would kill him. Your version of ‘kill’ meant you would simply get him back later in some kind of fashion. You were a smart person after all. “I’m sorry, Dear! You were so out of sorts you looked primed for me to scare you.” He hummed and moved to sit down on the bench, his hand patting the spot next to him. You let out a loud sigh sitting next to him, “What’s on your mind?” He hummed out fixing his gloves before moving to brush imaginary dust off his pants.
You were silent for some time trying to figure out the words in your head, “I gave John divorce papers today.” you whispered out causing him to look over trying to hide the growing smile on his face, you still haven’t brought up the kiss you both shared the night before and you were scared to do so. “Really?” He hummed, leaning back against the bench using one hand to tap a melody on his knee, “I’m just waiting for him to sign it and see if the court will..allow the divorce to happen.” He didn’t answer and looked ahead as the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Your mind raced as another cold breeze hit you in the face, what would you do if the court denied the divorce? Would Alastor still..be by your side? The thoughts raced and raced but before you could delve deeper, a warm inviting hand was placed onto your shoulder causing you to look over at him confused but leaned into the warmth.
“It’s going to be okay, Dear. Don’t let those thoughts run you ragged now.” You nodded at his words and smiled, “Figured you’d be out hunting by now.” That made him let out a small laugh as his smile grew wider and went off on a tangent about hunting and how to actually be a good hunter.
You’d be fine.
~~~
You’d be fine.
Those were the words echoing in your head as you were now standing in your kitchen hands on the counter as you stared down at the broken glass cup as you heard your husband yell at you. The amber liquid is now spilling onto the wooden floor, your cheek burned like hell and you tasted the iron in your mouth as you unclench your jaw allowing your teeth to free themselves from your tongue. You stormed over to the phone and used the rotary dial to call a familiar number that you had stuck in the back of your mind. Alastor. You don’t remember the start of the conversation. All you could mumble between the stinging pain and blood in your mouth was, “Come over..It’s an emergency.” Before hanging up abruptly.
The next few moments were quick in your mind but you knew it took far much longer to do as your hands trembled. Grabbing whatever heavy metal object you could find in the vicinity, as your husband turned to face you once more. The fear in the man’s eyes as you swung and hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, his hands moving to cover his nose as he stared up into your empty anger filled eyes, god..it felt good to see him as nothing but a pathetic ant beneath your feet. It felt invigorating as you dropped to your knees one hand holding him down as you continuously bashed the item into his face until he was nothing more than a lifeless body surrounded by a pool of his own blood.
You stared down at him and then the blood covering your hands as tears formed into your eyes and a sob bubbled up from your throat but you weren’t sad. Far from it..you were relieved as you looked up at the ceiling falling flat on your ass as you started to laugh between horrid sobs. Your hands grasping at your shirt laughing louder until your cheeks hurt from how long you were smiling and as Alastor finally came into your vision. The smile faltered for a moment as another loud sob wracked your body, “I did it, Al..I did it-” You choked out as you curled into yourself. “It felt so fucking good..I felt fucking invincible.” You hissed out blood dripping from your mouth and onto the floor. “Oh god- I finally fucking did it.”
Alastor walked over calmly and quietly, his hands clasping on your shoulders. His suit was long gone as when you called him he was in the middle of getting ready to go out ‘hunting’ but when he heard your desperation, he rushed over immediately. “You did and I’m so proud of you, Dearest..but go get cleaned up and I’ll deal with the mess, yes?” He whispered into your ear as you let out another sob allowing him to help you stand up on your two feet. As he helped you to your own bathroom and got you fresh clothes, he went back to the freshly dead body in your kitchen and smirked. “Got what you had comin’ old boy.” He hissed out before starting to get to work cleaning up the mess.
It didn’t take him long to clean up but now he had to find a way to actually get rid of the body. In your backyard? No, that's too suspicious..in the woods? Maybe but he doesn’t want you to have another breakdown. But he would have to wait until night time so right now? He’s going to have to play the part just in case people start to suspect something. He looked around and draped a blanket over the body before dragging it towards an empty room.
When he had walked back to the kitchen, he had watched as you were carefully cleaning up the shards of glass. Walking over he had finally noticed the blooming bruise on your cheek causing a part of him to be angry. “He hit you?” He whispered out helping you stand up, “Yeah..after we got home after the court denied the appeal..said I embarrassed him and broke a cup over my head before slapping me.” You whispered your speech slurred from your swollen tongue making you flinch, “What do I do now?” You whispered out, allowing him to gently grab your chin, “I don’t know what to do, Al..” His eyes softened and he sighed, “Sit down and I’ll cook something for you, Dear. We are gonna have to wait till nightfall.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your head.
Later that night, he had helped you bury your ex husband deep in the forest, he mostly did all the dirty work but he did explain how to hide a body.
~~~
It was now 1931, four years after you had killed your ex husband and a year after the economy collapsed. You and Alastor had moved in with one another and while not officially married by the courts you both loved one another and acted as such. Wearing a wedding ring on your finger told everyone you were either remarried or you still loved your poor ex husband that was murdered in cold blood by the rampant serial killer that was on the loose. Which would be far from the truth.
His family blamed you for his murder, calling you every name in the book and berating you for ‘kicking him out of the house’ which also wasn’t the truth. Yet another lie your ex had spun to keep his pride intact, you didn’t care in all honesty. The man was gone now..killed by your hands.
But here you were walking down the dark streets of New Orleans to get back home to your loving Beau, you had heard through the grapevine he was having a rough day and hoped to cheer him up that night but as you continued to walk down the street you realized that you were being followed. But maybe not maybe it was just your paranoia, but still you felt like a waiting duck, taking a turn down an alleyway and then another hoping to lose the trail of whoever was following you.
It wasn’t until you had gotten to a familiar part of town out near the bayou that you felt relatively calmer but then that was stomped on when you heard a yell from behind. You looked back thinking it was one of the friendly neighbors but it wasn't. It was the man from before the same one who was following you. You dropped the book you were holding and broke out into a sprint down towards where your house was, trying your best to dodge anything that could hurt you. Then a loud shot rang out and it sounded like thunder causing your body to freeze up for a second. But you continued to keep running, you just needed to get home..you could see the smoke billowing from the chimney and the soft glow of the lights inside.
Your heartbeat was banging on your chest as you ran, you were almost there..you could see Alastor inside before a loud SNAP echoed through the silent air as you fell face first into the ground.
You scrambled to get up sobbing as you looked back to see a trap digging into your leg, its sharp teeth scraping against bone as you sat up watching as the man got closer. “Fuck fuck-” you hissed out as you started to painfully get the jaws of the trap unstuck and scrambled off ignoring how your leg was burning. You yelled out for Alastor before another loud shot echoed through the air. The constant buzzing of the cicadas had gone silent as you fell to the ground gasping for air. Oh god it hurt, your hands moved to clutch your stomach as you looked up at the man, pistol in his hand pointed right between your eyes, “You killed my brother.” He hissed out his voice breaking as you teared up and begged him to let you go.
Tears cascaded down your face as he yelled, whispering some prayer that spilled past your lips and then the night went silent. As the gun had fallen down the hammer hit the ground first causing the gun to be set off, the bullet flying into the sky of the New Orleans Bayou. You trembled laying on the ground sobbing as you brought your hands up to see blood covering them the moonlight had casted down upon you as you sobbed out. There was movement before your head was lifted up and cradled into your Husband’s chest. His familiar cologne invades your senses in a comfortable way as he shakily tries to stop the bleeding.
“It’s going to be okay, Cher..I’ll fix you right up.” he whispered into your hair as he pressed his hand onto your stomach. You were bleeding out too much as your breathing started to slow. No no it wasn’t supposed to end like this, tears raced down his cheeks as he pulled you closer as your hand weakly grasped around his sobbing out how you didn’t want to die. But he knew he couldn’t help you, he was far too late to properly help you and it was too far to get you to a doctor. “Sing me a song, Al?” You whispered out, “One last song?” he nodded and cleared his throat, watching as the light in your eyes slowly faded as he sung your favorite song.
He stayed like that for an extra hour, holding your lifeless body to his and singing all your favorite songs before he finally had the courage to find a place to bury you properly, making sure that when the sun rose the next morning it’s first rays it sent out over the bayou would hit your grave. You always did love watching the sun rise and listening to his broadcasts.
He would meet you again, he just knew it. He just didn’t know when.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x gn!reader
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and when i say galliano i mean this galliano. baby hes just too pretty to not be put in something that fine.
What do you think about the concept of forcefemming Sisyphus?
well.
i dont know how id go about forcefemming him because im no sisyphus expert but i fem him enough that i got a wardrobe iin my brain specifically for him and sometimes i think hes kinda girlypop. i would dress him in the finest 90s galliano dior given the opportunity and all of the summer fit pics i have saved. maybe ive just been nostalgic for home recently too much but if i saw him id pluck a hibiscus from a bush and put it on his ear and kiss his cheek. sisyphus he/she prns in my brain too. i think very often when i look at him hes the most beautiful man/woman in all of hell next to the earthmover.
#and more for him other than this.#before i run away though and stop at this. despite my appreciation for it i need to be transparent about something Unrelated#this specific collection is inspired by marchesa casati as a muse and while it IS beautiful and gorgeous and incredible#because i love the beadwork i love the patterning i love the cuts and colors and its drama#IT MUST be acknowledged. casati was known for her style during the 1920s. 1920s in europe and america as far as im aware esp in high fashio#and couture as well as hollywood was a time plagued by orientalism. one of THE most important couturiers of the time was an appropriator#of east asian and some middle east inspirations and claimed them as his own#and it MUST be acknowledged that a collection inspired by a 1920s socialite will have those elements. its undeniable.#im a SEA american so . my opinion is not god and i need more info and an open conversation#but i think this is good to know if you wanna dive into it. everything is more than just clothes.#i dont mean this ties back to sisyphus though. i just think he would be beautiful in bright colors and things with gorgeous beadwork#and id wanna share it with you guys BUT i want it to be known that there is more to think about past the clothes being Pretty.#and that doesnt mean you cant enjoy or appreciate the stylings or artisan work. you just gotta think critically about it#anyway can you tell fashion and fashion history is my special interest and my fucking career path being a gooner#i may be a goon blog but i implore you lovely people to think Critically especially about the real world and culture
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Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself
Old man and an Iphone
Requests are still open indeed.
I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s
This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.
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Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.
You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.
The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.
Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.
The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.
Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.
After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.
"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.
"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.
"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over
Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"
"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.
"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.
"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.
Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.
"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.
"What is a 5 million subscriber?"
"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.
"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.
"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.
You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"
He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"
"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"
The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"
"Done"
A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.
"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.
"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.
"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.
"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."
"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.
"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"
It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"
"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"
It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.
You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.
"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"
"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.
"Do hurry"
#fanfiction#x reader#request#reqs open#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction
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Forgiveness of Blood
What if Tav and Astarion met a little differently? What if Tav was someone else? A half-vampire? What if Tav…was Cazador’s daughter?
A/N: *slides a plate of Astarion-shaped biscuits*
Words: 1920 Warnings: mentions of rape, murder, and abuse, violence, half vampire!Tav
The gith looked tasty enough. Perhaps the half-elf with the long black braid. Hells, even the Tiefling who was seemingly burning up from the inside out promised to be delicious—sizzling, you’d dare say.
At this point, you were desperate. Any humanoid blood would do and this group camped out in the middle of nowhere, was just perfect for satiating your needs for a few nights.
You crouched down further, remaining hidden behind the bushes and the dark shadows as you licked over your humble fangs. You hated it had come to this. One of the few advantages of being a half-vampire was that you were no slave to hunger for all things sanguine. You could walk in the sun though you burned up easily and you could eat regular food without it turning to ash in your mouth to sustain you. Still, there was no denying that blood, as much as you loathed the idea, would keep you at strength.
You’d been tumbling through the wilderness for days now. Escaping the clutches of a powerful vampire lord was one thing (especially when said vampire lord was your biological father) but escaping a horde of mind flayers? That took its toll. You shook yourself upon being reminded that Cazador’s blood ran through your very veins; you were disgusted by your own body because of it.
You only knew about half the horrors he’d inflicted on hundreds, thousands of innocents, the ones on your human mother included. Pregnancy among vampires was so rare it was nearly impossible. Your mother, may the gods be kind to her wherever she was now, had never been in love with that monster, of course. He’d taken a liking to her long ago, abducted her, kept her a prisoner in his palace until the impossible happened and she ended up with child—you.
Gods, the few childhood memories still flashing before your inner eye when you rested at night were all but devastating, lonely, and…cruel. He’d meant for you to do his bidding, to become his right hand—always by his side but never on top, of course. Only you wanted nothing to do with that. You’d seen the way he treated your mother when you were right there in your crib. You never found her body. Whatever he’d done with it…you weren’t sure you wanted to know.
You were around twelve years old when you took flight and, with the help of a servant who risked and sacrificed their life to save you, left Cazador behind for good.
Your stomach growled and you took a deep breath. He had passed part of the curse of vampirism onto you. There was nothing you could change about that, whether you wished to or not. You were wary of the berries and mushrooms growing around here though and you had no energy left in you to hunt for meat. The only thing left was…blood.
There. They’re getting ready for bed. You’d wait until they all gathered around the warm campfire and fell asleep and then…you’d strike.
“Astarion! Astarion, help!”
Shit. You pulled away from the black-haired girl whose neck you were about to sink your fangs into, ready to bolt away into the darkness. A beautiful elf who’d kept away from the fire stepped into view, blocking your escape route. He glared at you with his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Something was…different about him. You hadn’t noticed him at camp before because…your lips parted. He had no heartbeat.
“You’re a spawn.” It wasn’t a question, not really. He was unusually pale, his stunning eyes were red, and as he spoke…you saw the flash of a pair of fangs.
“What are you doing here? Who are you? You better get out before I gut you,” he spat.
“Another blood-sucker? Chk,” the gith tossed in.
You lifted your hands in defence. “I mean no harm, please.”
A dire mistake, so you realised quickly. Astarion’s gaze travelled to the silver ring on your finger—a keepsake from your mother, one that granted her access to various places and chambers in Cazador’s palace: it was a silver Szarr family ring, a small round ruby in its middle.
Astarion’s expression darkened until it was downright…murderous. You had neither the energy nor enough time to react when he lunged himself at you. Your back hit the dirty ground with a thump, pain shooting up and down your spine.
You felt the sharp blade of a dagger pressed against your throat before you saw it. It was accompanied by gasps, yet no one dared to intervene—yet.
“You came for me, didn’t you? He sent you! Answer me!” he yelled, making you flinch. Cazador.
“No! I’m not, I’m…I’m hungry, I…”
“You are not touching my companions. I still need them. Are there more? Who else did he send?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, please! Let me go!” You wriggled a little in his tight grasp.
“You’re wearing his ring. You serve him.”
“I don’t serve Cazador!” you choked out.
“So you do know what I’m talking about,” he growled.
“Please, let me up and I’ll explain.”
A man with longer hair and a beard cleared his throat. “Astarion…maybe you should hear her out. The lady seems to be very much in distress.”
“That’s how they lure you in,” Astarion retorted.
“Gale’s right, Astarion. Let’s hear what she has to say. Just like when you found me, remember?” the red-skinned tiefling added.
The spawn above you took a deep breath and released you, though his dagger remained drawn and ready to slice you open. You didn’t bother to get back up and instead, knelt on the ground in a weak attempt to prove you truly meant no harm.
“Speak before I change my mind. I do so love a midnight bloodbath.”
Chills ran up and down your spine. “I…I told you, I don’t work for Cazador. You’re…you’re one of his spawn, aren’t you? I don’t understand, why would he send people after you? Did you escape? How does he not control you?”
“We are not talking about me, we are talking about you.”
“Right.” You told him your name and offered a weak smile to the group. “I’m from Baldur’s Gate too. I have no idea where we are now though, to be honest. This is going to sound hard to believe but I was kidnapped by mind flayers.”
“Trust me,” Gale said, “it’s not as hard to believe as you might think.”
“Yeah…same thing happened to us, soldier,” the tiefling added.
“It…it did? I…I’ve been roaming the woods for weeks in search of civilisation.”
“You’re a spawn,” Astarion said, dismay swinging in his smooth voice.
“No. I’m not a spawn. I’m…I’m only half a vampire.”
Gale gasped. “A dhampir? How’s that even possible?”
“You know...” the black-haired girl you intended to bite intervened, “…when two people like each other very much, they do this thing…”
Gale snorted in response.
You nodded. “She’s right. Although…my biological parents did, in fact, not like each other when it happened. All I ever wanted was to be free from his disgusting legacy. I escaped from the palace when I was twelve years old. I don’t need blood to survive and I can walk in the sun, I just…I was so hungry I didn’t know what else to do.” You turned to the black-haired girl. “I wasn’t going to kill you. I just needed a few drops to regain my strength.”
“Huh, I think I’m having a déjà-vu.”
Meanwhile, Astarion’s face remained blank. One by one, the puzzle pieces you’d fed him fell into place—and he understood. “You…Cazador has a daughter?”
You nodded yet again. “My mother was human. She was a captive, much like you, I presume.”
“Well that certainly explains a lot,” Gale murmured.
It would all be fine now. Astarion knew the truth—he knew you weren’t here to bring him back to Cazador, and that never meant to kill any of his friends…
“You are…Cazador’s daughter,” Astarion repeated. Slowly. Dangerously so.
“I…I don’t know what he did to you. But I-I’m sorry. I’ve seen him in action, the man is a monster. I’m not like my father. I promise.”
He was still ready to kill you, you could feel it with every fibre of your being. You were not welcome here, not according to him anyway. Gods, you hated you were such an empathetic person! You couldn’t even tell whether the tears pricking your eyes were because of the crude hostility you were met with…or the fact that whatever Astarion had been through must have been even more terrible than what you had experienced living with the vampire lord.
“I’ll…I’ll leave.”
“No. You’re staying. Darling. You are going to be the perfect leverage to guarantee my freedom. And if not,”—he shrugged with a malicious smirk—“it will be a delight to kill you.”
Your blood ran cold. “Astarion…please, I…”
“Hold on! Let’s all just take a deep breath, yeah? No one is going to be leveraged here. You’re welcome to stay at our camp regardless, though. I am Karlach.” She points at herself, pleased. “It seems like you could use the company. We got food too. Real food, I mean. That’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale—but you already knew that—that over there, sleeping, is Wyll and…that’s it. Halsin’s probably still out in the woods, you’ll meet him in the morning.”
Astarion growled. “Cazazdor’s blood runs through her veins. The madness runs in the family. I ought to stake you right now. I’m keeping an eye on you.”
They let you stay. Against all reason, some space was made for you at camp and you were spared a bedroll. You couldn’t say you were a fan of sleeping under the stars but beggars couldn’t be choosers. None of them wanted to share their makeshift tent with Cazador’s daughter—and you couldn’t say you blamed them.
Regardless, no matter how much you turned and tossed, of course, sleep didn’t find you even after a quick but generous meal prepared by Gale. Astarion had been ready to kill you today. He probably had if Karlach and the others hadn’t stepped in.
And against all reason…you felt guilty. The pain in Astarion’s eyes…you’d seen your own reflected in it. Only the gods knew what he’d been through… You sighed and climbed to your feet, making your way over to his tent. Was this suicide? Quite possibly.
At first, you thought he was trancing. But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw a slight movement of his hand, one that would have been impossible to see with mere human sight. You cleared your throat.
“Astarion?”
Nothing.
“Astarion, I…I just want to say I’m sorry. I know you must hate me, I understand that. But for what it’s worth…I truly am sorry. Cazador is a monster. He killed my mother when he tired of her and only the gods know what he did with her corpse. Not a single memory I have with him is a good one. All I remember is pain, loneliness, and humiliation. We…we might share the same blood but I swear to you, I am nothing like him. If you won’t believe anything else…please believe that.”
There was no response for a while as you stood there, dumbfounded, waiting for his remarkably charming voice to sound. Then, finally…he shifted.
“I believe you.”
You breathed out audibly, relief flooding your veins. It was all he said. But for now…it was enough.
A/N: I feel like I'm going to continue this somehow. Maybe. Potentially when they're back in Baldur's Gate? Choices, choices...
#astarion#astarion imagine#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion bg3#bg3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate 3 imagine#bg3 imagine#neil newbon#astarion ancunin#astarion ancunin imagine#astarion ancunin x you#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion ancunin x tav
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Storytime (Beetlejuice x Reader)
Title: Storytime
Summary: From this prompt list: #8 Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn’t enough. and #13: You aren’t really a good person, but god damn, you make bad look awesome.
Warnings: None
Beetlejuice was sunbathing on the roof of what was the town hall. Well, not really sunbathing, and the town hall was one of Adam’s models. He mainly liked to lay there and spy on you as you did things around the attic. He also liked watching what you were doing, even when he was the size of a Micro Machine. Today, you were sitting on that ugly couch, reading a book. A breeze blew through the attic. You hung up there when the Maitland’s and the Deetz’s were doing things downstairs. Despite being welcomed into their home, you just never felt you belonged.
Maybe that’s what the ghost with the most was attracted to. You were a loner, just like him.
“What are you reading?” He spoke up from his place on top of the building. Though his voice was small, you could still hear him.
“The Great Gatsby,” You replied, not even shocked by his presence anymore.
“Ah, unrequited love,” He chuckled a little, sitting up to watch you. “When your best isn’t enough.”
“You know that’s not what this book is about, right?”
“Isn’t it though?”
You put a bookmark in your book before going over to the model. You sat so you could see him. Book discussions with him were actually quite enjoyable. While he hadn’t read many of the more modern titles, he could talk for hours about old classics. And you really didn’t mind listening to him drone on and on about what Steinbeck was actually talking about.
“Well, I know that’s a theme, but isn’t the whole thing about consumerism in the 1920s? How status can be easily gained or lost?”
“All I know babes, is that Fitz put a lot of work into it and was upset when it flopped.”
“You knew F. Scott Fitzgerald?”
“I’ve been around 600 years. I think the list of people I’ve met would easily fill this house,” He looked so smug about it. You never knew if his stories were real or not, but he was a good storyteller anyway.
“Well, why don’t you tell me more?”
“Hmm, let’s see. Met Dillenger and Capone. Typhoid Mary was a wild girl. John Wilkes Booth had a screw or two loose.”
“You aren’t really a good person, but god damn, you make bad look awesome,” You watched his smile get bigger.
“Aww babes, you flatter me,” He stood up. “Why don’t you say my name? We could discuss more. I could tell you stories until you fall asleep.” He watched you ponder it for a bit before you smiled at him.
“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,” He lit up and clapped his hands.
“It’s showtime!”
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The Arm of a God (And Other Things)
Khonshu x Fem!Reader
Summary:
You take a week-long hiking trip alone, despite the warnings at the lodge from experienced hikers.
But were you truly alone?
No. Never.
The bears and mountain lions were the least of your concerns. In fact...
They never were to begin with.
TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, PiV sex, unprotected sex, size difference, reader is a size queen, needy(?)Khonshu, creampie, ngl it's a lot like the dude's a god and like 9 feet tall I refuse to believe every part of his anatomy isn't proportionate to the rest of him, like he has a breeding kink?? God of fertility hellooooooo
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
Taglist: @drinkingwithkhonshu @gingersforeverbox @manque-damour @nikkivenomized
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
"Look, kid, no offense but..." The older man replied to you, his thick, bushy eyebrows pinched with concern for your well-being, "It's dangerous out there if you're alone. And compared to a bear, you're a small snack."
You smile at the old man, briefly taking in his far more rugged appearance. He looked every part of a human grizzly bear; large, imposing, muscular. He could probably take an actual grizzly bear in a bare-knuckle fight and come out even. He was an experienced hiker, a man born for the wilderness.
His concern for you was sweet. Compared to him, you were a tiny porcelain teacup; clean, and fragile. Sure you looked that way, but you trusted yourself and your abilities.
You looked small... but you weren't helpless. And you never had to worry in any of your travels.
"Thank you for your concern, but I'm covered." You chuckle sweetly, tapping the pendant around your neck. It was a small stone, scribbled with some sort of symbols, a crescent moon featured most prominently.
He squinted his green eyes at the necklace. He obviously couldn't understand what they said, but he understood it was some sort of religious object.
"Look kid, god can only do so much if a brown bear raids your camp in the middle o' the night." He says, clicking his teeth.
"Trust me. I got my bear spray, a good taser, a machete..." You begin listing off your protective items, some of which were bullshit. Most of your items in your pack were food and other important supplies.
He seemed impressed once you were done, stroking his thick beard approvingly. "All right, I s'pose. But since you've checked in here, there's a policy you tune into the lodge's frequency so if anything happens, we can come get ya."
To show how serious you took his advice--even if it wasn't needed--you pulled out your radio. It had about a 30 kilometer radius. An expensive purchase, to be sure, but a nice one. You tune it to the frequency he tells you and look at him as you clip it back to your pack securely.
"Anything else?" You chirp.
"Nope... Just... Be careful. The weather can get kinda crazy further up the mountain." He grunts.
You turn, giving a playful salute as you do, dragging deep into your lungs the air of the mountains after a fresh morning rain.
You weren't afraid for what the night brought. Not at all. But you knew that you've never had to be afraid when the moon rose.
Not when you had faith.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
You'd made good progress, only having to stop and rest a few times throughout the day, free-climbing a few boulders here and there, and to check your map. Your destination was an old burnt-down mansion that was destroyed in a bad storm sometime in the 1920s. So, over a hundred years ago.
Nobody really knew about them or bothered to find them because they were so far off the beaten path, but you marked your trail to find your way back. If you even got lost in the first place.
The first time you found out about this place was a small article written by a backpacker who explored forgotten ruins on YouTube. Yeah, they aren't as exciting as climbing a pyramid down in South America, but to you they were. You adored finding them and exploring them, touching pieces of recent history that were forgotten far quicker than ruins from thousands of years ago.
And when you found them, you tossed your pack down and did a happy little dance; they were amazing! The walls were made of river stone, joined by concrete and held up merely by their own sturdy construction. Some of the walls had fallen due to time, but you could easily make out a few old windows and doorways. Every inch of the ruins was covered in moss, shrubbery, and old and young trees embracing what was left.
You'd even climbed an old stairway you found in the back for fun; it may have led to the worker's lodgings, or.... hell maybe just another entrance to the second floor.
But now, the sun was gone, and you'd set up camp in the middle of the ruins, where a small pond had formed thanks to a depression in the ground. Perhaps the remains of a basement or cellar that had caved in due to the fire and passage of time.
Your fire crackled as you let your water purifier do it's job, your clean water dripping into your canteen with a steady "drip, drip, drip".
You finished off your pre-packaged meal--a nice packet of spaghetti and meatballs with some extra protein powder thrown in--and was now letting it settle, laying on your plush sleeping bag as you stared at the night sky, the moon fat as it hung from the stars; your fingers brushing and caressing the small pendant around your neck.
"I am not surprised to find you in a place like this." A heavy voice echoed off the stone walls.
You sat up on your elbows and lifted your gaze, smiling as you spot him--a large, lithe figure perched casually on the ruins, the light of the moon illuminating the eerie bird skull in place of his head.
"You know how much I love doing this." You remind him.
"Yes, I know." His voice said softly, his body moving in a blur. In a moment, he was standing above you.
You crossed your arms behind your head and grinned up at him. "It's been a month... Having fun with your Moon Guy?"
"My Moon Knight." He corrects, moving to sit next to you, laying his staff down on the remnants of the stone floor, little bits of grass and foliage peeking through the crags.
"Yeah, yeah." You snort, turning to roll on your side to grin at him again, resting your head in the palm of your hand.
"So... Read on the internet about some crazy shit going down in Egypt. And... It felt like you were gone. What happened with that?"
"Ammit and her cult. My Moon Knight and Taweret's Avatar stopped her. My Fist killed her Avatar." He said slowly. "And for meddling with the heavens... The Ennead imprisoned me, briefly."
You sat up fully, shocked by this news. "What? H-how... Why did--"
His fingers brush your lips to silence you, the touch feather light but enough to cease your speaking.
"It is settled, now. Don't worry." He says to you gently, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his warm palm heating your skin while his thumb brushes your cheek.
You close your eyes and sigh, frowning at him. "Damn you, old man... Don't worry me like that again, or I'll kill you."
"Of course. I wouldn't dare incur your wrath." He chuckled.
"Damn straight you won't." You sigh; his hand moved down your throat to encircle you, flattening on your upper back to pull you against him so you were astride in his lap.
You slowly slide your hands up his bandaged chest, feeling his heat bleed through your skin and warm you to your core. Your fingers toy with the large crescent moon fixed to his chest, brushing his flowing robes off to the sides.
"You are a force of nature," He hums, his other hand sliding down to completely encapsulate your ass and pull you tighter against him.
"One I have come to appreciate far more after my imprisonment."
You chuckle and watch as the strips of linen as soft as a moth's wing fall away into wisps of mist, leaving his almost searing hot skin bare to your touch.
His skin was a lifeless monochrome, ashen color, but it wasn't lacking in life at all, far from it. You could feel his godly heart thump in his chest, feel his muscles twitch as you touched him.
And already, you could feel the hard length of him pressing against you, swelling and twitching as it came to life as well.
It felt like his arousal flooded into you, spreading through your core and riling you up. You could already feel yourself soaking through your underwear, a dark stain soaking through your pants.
Sometimes you wished he could come to you at home; or in a motel room at least, so you can wear something nice for him, some lingerie or...
His fingers brushed your lips once again and he tapped them twice, signaling for you to open.
You obey silently, letting the soft pads of his index and middle finger part your jaws, caressing the muscle of your tongue, your eyes locking with his own eyeless gaze.
A rumble comes from him, and he groans as you roll your hips against his erection, the want and heat almost burning you inside and out.
One of your hands shoves down to undo your belt and unbutton your pants, and Khonshu withdraws his fingers from your mouth and almost dizzingly fast, his hand was shoved into your underwear, toying with your swollen clit.
You moan softly, your own small hands gripping at the gold collar on him for stability as one of his large fingers dips into your tight hole.
He grinds his palm into your clit as his finger curled and pressed against that overly sensitive spot on the walls of your cunt.
"Tight..." Khonshu growled, his other hand rolling your hips in time with his other hand. "You need to relax for me, love."
"T-Trying..." You pant, feeling the cool texture of his smooth dry beak caress against the blazing heat of your cheek.
"Hmmmh." He sighed and retracted his hands from you. "Get undressed. I need you to lie back."
You scramble off of his lap, watching his throbbing length bob eagerly as you peel your clothes off of you, lying back on your sleeping bag, spreading your legs for him to see every inch of you that was ready and waiting for him.
He had been gone for a month, and you knew on some nights, even when he wasn't there with you physically, you knew he would watch as you'd touch yourself to thoughts of him. No mortal man could ever compare to the love and carnal touch of a god, and he always felt a pang of guilt when he had to leave you for whatever duties he had.
But your reunions always ended this way, heat, lust and sheer want for companionship. You had started praying to him when you felt other religions didn't do it for you, finding that you being the wanderer that you were, would find more solace in prayer to a god who protected those like you.
And you certainly didn't expect to catch his eye, let alone capture his heart the way that you had.
His hand rests on your knee, thumb caressing the bones beneath the skin as he leans over you. He couldn't kiss you, but you always made sure that was never a problem, even now, as you tipped your head to place a soft kiss to the smooth side of his beak.
"Fuck--" You groaned, dropping your head back onto your travel pillow when his other hand rediscovered its place against your weeping sex, his thumb rolling small circles over your engorged clit while his other two fingers glide over your entrance; the muscles fluttering in anticipation of what was to come.
You squirm with impatience as each swipe of his fingers only serves to ignite a hotter flame burning low in your loins.
"Khonshu." You breathed.
When you said his name like that, it was always sweeter than any offering or prayer he has received. More uplifting than knowing his works uproots evil to protect the innocent, more delicious than watching Ammit and Harrow die at the end of Jake's gun.
"Just a bit more." He tightly reprimands, his other hand squeezing your knee to remind you to relax.
"You're such a damn tease." You whine, wiping one of your hands down your face, biting your lip and gripping your hair as his fingers inch slowly into your tight, hot hole.
Another deep, rumbling groan comes from him as he feels your body grip him like he was your reason for breathing; dragging, squeezing, pleading for him to just take you already....
But he wouldn't--couldn't--until your body had adjusted enough for this to be pleasurable for you as much as him. He was larger than a human man, and he knew your body was fragile compared to his.
Of course, he always felt smug and prideful when he acknowledged the fact he probably ruined you for any mortal man you may decide to bed one day. Because, honestly, now.
What mortal man can compare to a god in both love and in the bedroom?
You arched your hips up off the ground with a moan, whimpering out his name when his fingers curled upwards. But by bit he could feel your muscles ease up around him, your sweet body becoming slick and welcoming.
Sometimes he would get so mesmerized in how your body reacted just to his fingers that he neglected his cock entirely in focus on you.
He could feel your gummy walls press down on his fingers, fluttering around him as he pumped and curled them inside of you, fingering you open so you could take him fully.
He said your name so softly that it crackled like dry leaves on the wind, and you had to lazily drag your eyes open to look at him, the moon and stars shining above and behind him.
He was beautiful, in his own macabre sort of way...
Oh, if the Ennead knew he was fucking you, you both would probably be in heaps of trouble. But you always figured "bring it on" because you had some choice words for those bastards if you ever had the chance to meet them.
But those were thoughts for later, right now you were focused on your impending orgasm as his fingers scissored inside of you, pushing you closer and closer to that peak so when he pushed inside of you with his cock you wouldn't hurt (or bleed, as that has happened before when the two of you got overzealous).
And of course, right as you were about to cum, your whole body electrified to the point you actually thought you saw sparks in your peripheral vision... Khonshu pulled his fingers free of your wanting body.
You practically sobbed in frustration as your climax was taken from you so abruptly. It was a favorite thing of his to do to you; edging you like he does. But you knew it was for more selfish reasons than anything else.
He leaned over you, bracing his body on his forearms as he gently brushed your head with his beak--his closest approximation of a kiss--and you felt something warm and wet drip onto your belly.
Sparing a glance down, you pant softly as you watch the faintly glowing fluid drip from the tip of his cock; the very tip of it flushed the tiniest shade of pink on his otherwise colorless body. Maybe once upon a time his skin was a different color, but in his exile, it has become so dull.
"Are you ready." He grits out. More a statement than a question, really, as he knew your answer beforehand. But it was important to him that you never had any reservations.
He would not take without first receiving consent from you, without giving.
He was not Set, after all.
"Please." You breathe, reaching out to touch his cock, fingers brushing along the silky soft skin, smearing the precum over the tip with your thumb; earning a delicious groan from him.
He grunts softly, nodding as he lets you guide his weeping cock through your slick folds and to your hole.
It was always breath-stealing, the moment he pushed into you, his thick girth spearing you open and filling you so full you swore he was buried in your guts.
You kept your hand low, feeling him as he slowly slid further inside of you, a hiss coming from him. You were relaxed now, yes... but still so tight because of your comparative sizes that it knocked him off kilter; your heat enveloping him so welcomingly as though he was coming home again.
"K-Khonshu!" You hiccuped, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt him fill you.
Khonshu's leg moves, pushing your thigh and nudging your legs open for him further; the both of you making low breathy sounds as your body squeezed him instinctively at the action.
"I'm... going to move, now." He snarls, reaching down to caress your thigh as he pulls back, your body desperately clinging to him, begging him to stay inside.
Your nails claw at his arms as you grit your teeth, sweat beading your brow as you feel him slide out inch by torturous inch before rolling his hips back into yours, filling you up almost as quickly as he pulled away.
"Oh--oh--" You whine, barely able to speak or form coherent thoughts as Khonshu starts arching his back and rolling his hips at the right angle to make your brain turn to mush.
The first time he had you, you thought you actually died. He had you ride his fingers until you couldn't move, and then he had you pinned, still thrusting his hand inside of you, coaxing and caressing your muscles to allow him entrance.
You did bleed, of course, because of his size. You'd had human bed partners, yes, but none compared to him in any way. You'd probably never be able to look at a human cock again and get as excited as you did when Khonshu teased you.
Oh, how strange it was... Gods often looked down at mortals because of their fallacies, not unlike their own in some ways... But lifetimes ago, the Old Gods of Egypt kept close relationships with their mortal followers. Of course... None had gone so far as to lay with them like Khonshu had done with you.
You'd tried to tease him, the first time you got intimate, that you were his first.
That's when he proved to you that just because you were his first human, didn't mean you were his first bedroom partner.
The way he made love to you was ethereal, almost entirely unreal. It was so good that sometimes you thought you'd dreamt it.
"Khonshu, I'm..." You moan, lifting your hips off of the ground to meet his thrusts as they picked up speed.
Khonshu watched you, his eyeless gaze boring holes into you as he studied your face, as beautiful as the most detailed works of art in human history as you came undone around him, soaking his skin as your body pushes every wave of your climax out.
His pace faltered, and he collapsed back onto his forearms as your legs locked around him, digging into the taut muscles of his glutes as your orgasm nearly knocked him senseless for a moment.
He gripped your sleeping bag tight in one hand as his pace quickened, desperate to taste his own release that threatened to swell up inside of him.
"Almost." He says, his voice wavering.
"Do it." You moan loudly, dragging your nails down his back desperately.
"Hrr--you--" He moaned back, his other hand moving back to grip your thigh so tightly you'd be feeling the bruises for days onward, even in his absence.
"Please."
"You... are... always... so... greedy." He snaps out with each thrust of his hips, the sinful sound of skin slapping skin and your cries filling the ruins.
"Is--Is it really being greedy if you--you want to--want--" Your voice breaks apart as he angles his hips up, his cock throbbing and twitching inside of you as he pumps you full, the sensation of being so utterly stuffed enough to push you into your second orgasm, forcing out globs of his glowing seed around his cock as he fucks you through both your orgasms, riding our your highs together in a blissful, mind-numbing spiral.
You were vaguely aware when he pulled his cock free of your body, barely grasping at the threads of consciousness as he looked down at you, his thumb pressing into your lower belly as he watched his divine seed drip from you.
He half wondered, if maybe you would get pregnant. Wondered what kind of child you would bear. A demi-god, surely, but what kind? In his pantheon, the children of their parents rarely shared the same aspects. Save for some overlapping connectivities, that is...
He could almost see your belly swell, nice and round... And felt something tug deep within his chest, a drive to see if this little thought bubble could burst--to see if his imagination would be a reality and bear fruit.
But, of course... His mind was dragged to the forefront of reality when your shaky little hand caressed the skull that was his head, your eyes drowsy and satiated as you smiled up at him, your god, your protector.
Your lover.
As he laid next to you, he curled your body with his and watched as the last embers of your fire burned away, leaving you only haloed in the soft, silver rays of his moon.
He couldn't believe he ever found you
#moon knight#khonshu moon knight#moon knight khonshu#khonshu x reader#khonshu x you#khonshu#khonshu smut
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So, this week's episode...
[spoilers below cut]
I KNEW IT!!! I knew that one of the two episodes left of the year had to be a holiday one aha!! *LE GASP* does that mean the last one will be sonic 3?
*nods* respect 👏
A Christmas special with TARI, oooh! and noticeably a shorter one too, huh. alright, let's-a GOOOOOOOO
(the following is my live reaction:)
aww, look at Tari being adorable (see that's how you get me, have my favorite characters do cute little hops and my life is yours)
bringing back the side characters LET'S GOOOO
CLENCH omg you're back I hope you can stay for the whole episode
ooooh tari's christmas list just dropped. hmmm let's see...
Saiko = KFC Theme Guitar (honestly slay) Mario = Spaghetti Necklace (whether he's going to wear or eat it, he'll enjoy it regardless) Kaizo = Scythe Polish Luigi = Gardening Kit SMG4 = Body Oder Spray (my man can't catch a break, "he stinks" canon) Belle = Nintendo Switch Case SMG3 = Dog Grooming Kit (for Eggdog awwww) Melony = How to draw Manga book (nice callback to "SMG4 and SMG3 Shop For Cursed Items" episode for Christmas shopping) Whimpu = Glasses Repair Kit Boopkins = Body Pillow Cleaning Kit (...) Bob = Karaoke Machine (that's actually sweet considering he is a rapper and the obvious choice would be a gun or smth, tari's a good friend) Rob = Corn Keychain
the cliche superhero transition *wheeze*
can I just say I love the fit Mario has on
1920's spaghetti?
i did not expect to see Sonic 06 (foreshadowing, eh?) and as a sonic fan, i gotta respect the hustle
now, i know it's supposed to be disgusting and you obviously have to put gross things here to convey that but... there's that eye imagery again.... *flashbacks ensue*
oooh Christmas party! I wanna see that!
aww tari did get clench a glove, maybe she didn't want to spoil the surprise too soon
also let's take a moment for that board in the bg:
"Random Text Here Shameless Advertising Happy Birthday smg4!" then something signed by a "Fan"
gotta love the small details
gonna be using this as a reaction pic for now on
Mario, don't you guys have a basement? pretty sure no one will grab the bag in there
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG OMG THERE'S NO WAY THIS IS REAL THEY ACTUALLY USED CANTRO'S OUTFIT DESIGN FOR THIS EPISODE THAT'S AWESOME DUDE (am aware that the Team used the model before in a previous ep but it was only shown for a few seconds, this is BIG)
new merch, eh?
...i'll take your entire stock
Oh Tari, it's okay to say no. Four did ask if you had time
beautiful commercial....wha? Bob, da hell are you doing? oh the usual
charity? understandable, have a good day
PFFT HAHAHAHA that grenade bit somehow got me
oh Four somehow teleported outside, chair and all
*wheeze* the way they just latch on the back of the cop car like that
BOOPKINS? ...yeah I should've seen that coming. and he's on a toddler seat too
question for the people: is UNO a board game? if not, then boopkins, you got it wrong buddy
RIGHT NOW?! boopkins she's got her hands full
GEEZ even I'm getting stressed
gonna be real here: it was actually a good choice to have the plot at a faster pace just so we could feel Tari's stress rapidly building up
oh hey Meggy's matching with Mario (love that for the M&M siblings) but Saiko, girl, please get yourself a coat :( you're gonna freeze
OH GOD Tari, i need you to breathe please! all of this is stressing you out, it's okay to say no
...oh no
i can't look dude, i know Tari's technically fulfilling everyone's wishes but this isn't the way to go :(
C'MON TARI, HOPE YOU CAN MAKE IT IN TIME PLEASE
NO NO NO *flips table* oh poor Tari
OH NO CAN I GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE? *shakes my laptop screen* LET ME INNNNNNN
WTF NO SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS
TARI DON'T LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES IN YOUR MIND, YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND
...three? let me turn the brightness up
yeah that's Four's model but for some reason has Three's voice and line.... huh... (I'll come back to this later)
dude, i literally had to pause and leave the room
fuck you got me tearing up. Team, is that what you wanted from me?
no tari, it wasn't your fault :( you didn't ruin anything
YES TELL HER, SAIKO
STAWP I'M THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO FULL-ON SOBBING WTF
FAMILY IS FOUND 👏👏👏
...wha? Three?
wait, this whole episode was you were retelling what happened to Tari, to Eggdog?
...that actually puts things in a whole new context (I'll talk about it later)
*gets hit by the book*
AY Congrats to Mango for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 what an awesome Christmas gift from the Team honestly
.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
This was a fantastic Christmas special! This really punched me in the gut (but in a good way). Everything, as always, was amazing. Excellent job, Team!!! Too bad Clench couldn't be in the whole episode.
Oh Tari, my girl :( I felt the emotional rollercoaster along with her and I just wanted to give her a giant hug.
Me 🤝 Tari → people pleasers with a dose of abandonment issues
Tari, I've been there and I promise your friends aren't gonna leave you. What you can offer, what you're able to, that is worth something. It doesn't need to be material, just being a part of their lives is enough. No matter how big, because to them, it could mean a lot more than what you think.
It's what I've been struggling too, that the people who have approached me only wanted what I could offer, but not as a person. And it takes time to heal and open up again to people who are worth opening up to, but you'll get there.
So, to remind you (yes, the one behind the screen): you are enough. We are enough. What you do, means a lot more to other people than what you think. You'd be surprised how much a second of your presence means to people, and they value that. It's why it's okay to say no when you aren't able to, they'll understand if they truly do care for you. I promise, time will come around for you to find the good ones.
That's why I love this show. It isn't just a "silly meme show", it's so much more than that. Yes, it does have its funny moments but it can be emotional, dramatic, exciting. And even relatable. That's the point of stories. Like I said countless times before:
Every story, no matter how outlandish it seems, is grounded in reality.
That's why I'm glad this was one of the last episodes of the year, to bring it all back that it's a story that we all can relate to in some way. That we aren't alone. Grab each other by the hand and take one day at a time.
Oh boy, sorry for that emotional stuff. Just wanted to bring some comfort 💙 With that, I'm gonna bring back what was the most interesting of this episode: SMG3
It wasn't until the very end that we realized this whole episode was Three retelling Tari's story not only to Eggdog but also to Terrance.
(If I remember the layout correctly, right in the same nook above the fireplace is where Terrance's photo is placed)
So, yes, he is reading a bedtime story to both of his sons. (just gonna cry in the corner for a second) He's such a dad 🥺
Anyway, i shall put my theorist goggles on:
Back in the part when Tari was too late to buy the Crew presents and the voices in her head were bashing her for failing, we have SMG3 for some reason come in:
To be clear, that's Four's model (notice the lack of chip of the cap) but Three is the one saying: "And I thought I was evil..." Other than being the narrator, Three wasn't in the story, so the question is why?
The obvious would be that the Team simply made a mistake and forgot that they placed this in. Ok, sure, that's if it was on accident. But what if they did it on purpose?
As Three stated in the episode "Trash Friends", he truly believes he's "the worst version of SMG4"
Think about it: the basic roles for them are Four as the hero and Three as a villain.
If Three was ever in an episode all of a sudden is because he is the negative force of the story. Recall back to the episode "Meme Hunters" when Three was forced to be "the conflict" of the episode.
Now, it may seem harmless but to him, he was afraid to be perceived as nothing more than "SMG4's cheap and worst copy"
And also in "You Used to Be Cool", people have noticed when he does lay back a bit from the usual villain/rival role and bash him saying, "This isn't you."
Hero or villain, you're seen differently by everybody
Then there was the whole "moral of the story" part:
Ofc, it's a whole thing that Three refuses time after time that he's not friends with the Crew
Now with the context that we have, we just got a peek into Three's fears/insecurities. Basically: if he opens up and accepts that he has friends, they might try and take advantage of him. So, what should he do? Close himself off, be an asshole, and deny, deny, deny.
Despite risking literally everything, INCLUDING HIS OWN LIFE, for them, he's doing this to protect himself from emotional harm when he's the most vulnerable.
There's indeed a trope that villains, especially redeemed ones, would have a sense of empathy of some kind. They know what's like to hit rock bottom, it's why they can empathize with the people who least deserve it, like Tari. (Even with Four back in IGBP.) So yes, as much as this is a story about Tari, it also relates to Three.
How can you have what you want when you're the one holding yourself back?
Three: "I also need love, understanding, and tenderness." [IGBP movie, Spanish dub] Three: " I just want the USB in that spaghetti in your stomach so I can use it to gain fame and love that SMG4 has too much of, okay?!" Mario: "...Is that it? Silly SMG3, you could of just told Mario instead of suppressing your inner emotions and your fear of being forever forgotten." [Trash Friends]
I mean, look at the last episode, he was so happy to know he got fanart.
The pressure he has, the role he has to play, what he's perceived as. It all affects him. Sure, he doesn't care that he's not perceived as the standard definition of a villain but he is really as human as he can be, with fears and desires.
Another way to see the "failure" part of the episode is that Three could never see Four in a negative light. Sure, Four has made terrible mistakes but past the YouTube Arc, Three has never seen Four as a villain (again, the role of the hero thing). Four is flawed just as he is, but since he's the one telling Tari's story, he replaces Four with himself in the narrative.
It's not confirmed it's because he cares about Four in this instant but it's obvious he has done it on purpose. All because that's the role he plays, one he absolutely fears, "an evil and worst copy of Four".
(For all we know, he might've altered some other things in the story we haven't even known about.)
AND the fact that he's telling it like a bedtime story to his son(s) as a warning, so they don't go through what he went through when he was younger (his whole parenting of reminding them that they're loved and appreciated for even the smallest things)
So, long story short: me 🤝 Tari 🤝 SMG3 → underlining abandonment issues
I've been noticing that a lot of points from past episodes are starting to resurface again (like IGBP) and I do hope we get to bring back what's going on with Three. Then, we might get Three having the same conclusion that Tari went through: as much as he wants to deny it to protect himself, he'll realize that it's okay to be vulnerable and have friends.
And he'd be surprised how much of what he did was valuable to them. That what he seeks is already right in front of him. After all, he's already part of the Crew :)
He would just have to let himself avert his view and see the truth.
#smg4#smg4 christmas special#smg4 spoilers#ink reviews#smg4 tari#smg4 smg3#smg4 mario#smg4 bob#smg4 luigi#smg4 saiko#smg4 boopkins#smg4 theory#puzzlevision 2#a snippet of why Three is one of my faves
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How would the gang react if you reveal ur a time traveler
Okily dokily!!!!
HOW EACH RDR2 GNG MEMBER WOULD REACT TO YOU BEING A TIME-TRAVELER (MY OPINION)
This is VERY vague. So I'm going to imagine this scenario you're from 1920 USA with lots of inside info on the vld gang cuz theres more I can do w that lol, and a person similar to John in terms of age/likeness/physicality. Imagine this is aprx chap 2.
Arthur - probably not have many questions really, just ask you why you'd come to this time of all times (he thinks you're stupid)
Hosea - only asks if John finally left with his family, and if everything actually does fall to bits. Doesn't really care for asking how he dies himself - In fact he doesn't want you to tell him
Dutch - Immediately asks if he dies for an ideal, or if he becomes someone of great reverence post mortem. When he doesn't like the answer he says he can't be kept by the lines society has decided for him so will disobey and flee "like Cain was once he was shun"
Reverend - says you're either deep in substances or have demons in you. Insists you must be a satanic lunatic and leaves with his head up. Later drunk he reveals he worries you're real and asks if God ever gives him a chance
Pearson - "heh...lemme guess...I'm in the books..ain't I?" "Ok you're lying though"
Sadie - asks when she will die and see Jake, and (if before this) asks if she gets to avenge his death
Charles - questions only on the land, and if the colonists finally destroy all of it by then, and on behalf of the natives. Otherwise tells you he's not interested in what will be otherwise
Micah - knows he's in the history books, so just walks off trying to be nonchalant. "Then I guess you know who I am.." (hes really close and breathing quite loudly)
Abigail - forgets herself to bombard you with questions about Jack and John, if they ever move away, if Jack grows up proper and they live till old. She starts sobbing after
Jack (1907) - wants to know if he becomes a writer, then whilst embarrassed quietly asks if his Father stays for real this time. Later tells you about a book he read with a similar premise. Your answer makes him quiet and hee doesnt speak for a while
John - Can't even think of what to ask, so just says like "ok- do-" then says he'll get back to you when he has something good to ask. Later: "wait-wait I got a good one... (some stupid question about future inventions)"
Trelawny - "I am a magician, too! I suppose we are both similar as such.." however he gets too freaked out and goes back to his family for a while
Javier - IMMEDIATELY only wants to know about the Mexican Revolution; was it successful? Did his family live? Does he return to Mexico? He refuses to believe your answer about him in Mexico in 1911 working for the government, insisting he would never pick that over his own life. Refuses to believe John would be the one to kill him, too. Angrily storms off after threatening you if you spit lies like that again (even if you proved to him ur fr)
Bill - gets scared of you thinking you have some other powers too, but then tries to toughen up and look unafraid. Demands, asks to know if becomes respected and feared in the future. Air punches when he hears he runs his own gang, then just looks straight up HURT hearing John kills him (trying to mask it) "But why wouldn't we be friends?"
Uncle - "you should be well aware then...of when the Lumbago gets to me.. where in the history books is that?"
Molly - quietly asks if everyone grows to like her (very embarrassed). She gets silent after your answer and goes to sit far away in camp for a while. Dutch later says to you that "you better not have put her in some mood"
Karen - says shes too sober for this, promptly grabs a drink and tells you she doesn't have anything to ask, but wishes she did. Avoids you afterwards fearing she was too open with you then.
Tilly - asks if she has a run-in with the foreman boys again. Otherwise then that she asks what cool things have been invented since
Mary-Beth - fascinated by future books, and asks if you have a novel from the future you could show her. She doesn't believe she could ever be a writer so doesn't ask.
Grimshaw - thinks you're a freak for coming here, saying "we are doing just fine! She does inquire about her girls though, if they all do well. She grows very strict with Karen there on, but also nicer
Sean - "do I become the big dog of the camp? Replace ol' king Arthur? Hahaha" a string of random questions , giving you no time to answer each one. He actually walks off before you can answer them thinking of more questions
Lenny - starts thinking if its okay to know about the future before responding, if theres no consequences, or if we as people should be able to. Decides he's better safe then sorry, and asks camp to be responsible. Dutch and him debate this
Kieran - asks if they finally accept him, and if the O'Driscolls come back. Grows very anxious at your response and spends the day cleaning the horses whilst trying to gather his thoughts to act upon.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption two#red dead fandom#red dead 2#john marston#rdr2 community#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption arthur#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur morgan#john rdr2#john marston rdr2#rdr2 charles#red dead redemption charles#sadie adler rdr2#sadie rdr2#rdr2 dutch van der linde#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#jack marston#rdr2 micah#micah bell#rdr2 hosea#charles smith#sadie adler#rdr2 john
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Propaganda
Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.
Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut. the famous banana skirt is mildly NSFW.]
Josephine Baker:
Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.
Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.
She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.
So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry
Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.
Joan Crawford:
I just love women that are very mean.
she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.
The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows
of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles
Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?
(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.
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The Gangsta's Wife (Part 1)
DESCRIPTION: (1920) You live a pretty normal life. Living with you're two younger sisters, having moved back to your hometown from when you were younger. This is where you meet the infamous Thomas Shelby who gives you an offer you cant refuse
WORD COUNT: 3365
Next / Master List
WARNINGS: smoking, implied violence, slight sexism, swearing, drinking
DISCLAIMERS
This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand
I have not watched Peaky Blinders so this may not be accurate to the actual TV show. It will also not follow the timeline of the show. But I hope you enjoy.
The three brothers sit around the table inside the little room. The one in their pub. The soft chattering of people outside as they play a game of poker. "Play the next hand will you" Tommy says as his two brothers look at him in shock.
"Can you just run past us what you just said again? I think my hearing must be going as I swear you just said you wanted to get married" his younger brother says
"You heard me correctly"
"So who's the lucky lady" the older says
"I've not found her yet" they both laugh "I know it sounds like a ridiculous fantasy. I reckon if we got a girl that has no prior relations to us or the type of stuff that we do then people would be more likely to trust us. Therefore wanting us to be in business more. It will get rid of some of the negativity we have surrounding our name"
"I'm sure we could easily find one off the streets for you" the younger teases as he lets out a low laugh
"I want someone who doesn't get scared easily. Don't want her to get spooked and run off during the honeymoon"
"Well we wish you luck on that journey" The older says as they finish up their game. Calling it a night they head out. Putting on their hats and coats as they start walking. Tommy lighting a cigarette as the three of them walk. His two brothers walking on slightly ahead as he goes to throw the last bit of his smoke down. It had gotten late by now that they didn't expect to bump into someone. Quite literally.
You run down the alleyway. Turning to face behind you to see if he was following. You turn back just as you bump into someone. He grabs your elbow as to stop you from falling straight onto your ass "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" you stutter out. Eyes going to the alleyway. The strangers eyes fall to your neck. The dark bruising around it. He looks down the alleyway. His hand falling from your elbow as he meets your gaze again.
"Tommy?" you hear someone calling as you dart your eyes between the three figures
"I- I need to go" a mild panic in your voice as you start to walk away. Your eyes constantly go back to the alleyway. You turn away from him. Bumping into the two other men as you walk past. "I'm sorry. I need to go" they move out your way as you run past them.
-
Some people would call you a thief. You prefer the term con woman. And a good one you are. Allowing you to be able to steal jewels and money without people noticing. This allowed you to keep up your income. That's what had caused the bruising around your neck though. You got caught by someone who didn't take your petty theft lightly.
You run to your house. Opening the door you pretty much slam it behind you. Your little sister jumps out of bed.
"Flo!" she calls out. Hugging you. You hug her back. Seeing your other younger sister opening here eyes at you.
"We were wondering when you'd be back"
"I'm here now" you kiss your sister on the top of her head. You grab into your coat pocket. Pulling out a necklace and bracelet. Followed by a pair of earrings. Elizabeth grabs it from you as she sits up on the bed.
"Oh my god!" she looks at it, holding them up to her ears "what do we think?"
"Ooh very fancy. Look like a proper little lady" she grins at you causing you to chuckle. She hands them back to you as you put them back in your coat. "I plan on selling them tomorrow. Then we can get that house we were looking at. Until then though we should be getting to bed. Come on" she nods. Jumping back into bed. You pull the covers up over the both of them. Stroking the hair out of their eyes as you grab a blanket. Going over and sleeping on the sofa on the adjacent wall.
You'd managed to sell the items the next day. Getting a good amount of money in exchange for the house. That and your savings from the previous months. You find the current seller of the house you were wanting. Him smoking outside the building, chatting to someone else. You walk over to him "I'd like to buy this house" he looks at you, eyeing you up and down
"You can't afford it" you reach into your pocket handing him a wad of cash. He looks at the money. Then at you
"Why don't you get your husband to come along. I'll talk to him. Alright sweetheart?" you take out some more money.
"I'm buying this house today" he looks back at the money in your hand.
"Ok then love" he goes to take the money from your hand but you move it away. Holding out your other hand
"The keys" he chuckles. Going into his pocket he takes out some keys. Handing them to you as you take them. Then handing him the money.
"Thank you gentlemen. Now excuse me" you go and open the front door. Going inside your new house.
A few days had passed. You'd fully moved into your home. Not that you had much to move from your small box house. Your sisters loved the new place. The three of you had been so used to sharing the same bedroom for years that it felt strange to have your own personal spaces. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the privacy.
You walk down the street. Arms crossed over your torso as the winter air chills you. You feel a couple of spots of rain. Quickening your pace in hopes to get home before it starts hacking it down. But you're to late. You quickly run over to the nearest building you can as to keep dry from the poor weather. Opening the door as you go inside.
Dripping onto the nice floor as you look around the pub. Empty. You walk over to the bar. Taking off your coat and placing it next to you on the stall. Listening to the rain as you wait for it to calm down. You don't pay much mind to your surroundings. Jumping as you hear a voice.
"I think you're in the wrong place" you turn to look as you jump up from your seat. Two piercing blue eyes watching you from one of the booths. His body slumped against the back of the chair.
"Sorry Mr Shelby. I just- its pissing it down out there and the door was open so I-" he raises his hand slightly. Causing you to stop. He tilts his head at you. Eyes scanning over your body before he speaks, motioning at the seat opposite him.
"Sit" you look at the front door. Hearing the wind picking up more. Your body screaming at you to run. Get out of this place. But going against your better judgement you stand up from your stall. Your body tense as you slide into the booth opposite him. He pours a glass, pushing it towards you.
"I'm ok thank you"
"I insist" you look at his eyes. Then at the drink. Picking it up as you take a sip. Placing the beverage down onto the table and passing it back to him. "You're that girl from a few weeks ago"
"I don't know what kind of night you had a few weeks ago but I can promise you that we've never met before" he chuckles at your statement. Your boldness intriguing him.
"You ran into me. You had bruises around your neck" his eyes go to your throat. You shuffle slightly under his gaze.
"Even if it was me then my business is my own" you say confidently. Eyes meeting his as he nods
"I can drink to that" he picks up the glass. Taking a sip of it before placing it back down in the center of the table.
"Why are you drinking here alone?"
"Like you said. My business is my own" you nod, half smiling as you lean forward and grab the glass from the middle again. Drinking the remainder of the liquid. Placing the cup down. He takes it, pouring some more. Sipping it before placing it back to the middle of the two of you
"I should be getting back" as if on cue you hear the rain start to pick up more. "Or maybe not" you say, a slight annoyance in your voice
"Looks like you're going to be here for a while" he says. Motioning at the bar "Grab another glass" You look at him. Then look at the drink he's already poured. You stand up, going behind the counter and grabbing one. You head back over to him, sitting down as you place the cup down. He takes it from you. Pouring you a glass and handing it to you. That's when you notice the blood on his knuckles. Your breath hitches slightly.
He's fully aware of what you've seen. There's no way he can't know that you've seen his hands. But he remains unfazed. Instead he calmly drinks his drink. Eyes on you as he places the cup onto the table. Watching you. "Do you have a pack of cards on you?" you say. More to try and help your nerves then to make small talk. Avoiding his cold gaze as best as you can as you. He shakes his head as you let out a soft 'oh'.
"What's your name?" He asks as he reaches into his pocket. Taking out some cigarettes. He offers you one. The pack facing you. You reach over, grabbing one out
"Florence. My friends call me Flo though" you say, placing the stick into your mouth as he takes one for himself. Grabbing out a light he lights his one.
"What can I call you then?" Before reaching over with the lit match. You lean over the table as he lights the end for you. Putting the match out as you sit back down onto your seat properly. Taking the smoke from your mouth as you look at him. Head titling slightly
"Flo" you say, causing him to half smile. He takes the item from his mouth, replacing it with his drink before speaking again
"You new around here Flo?"
"I grew up here but moved to London when I was about 12. Moved back a few months ago"
"Is it anything like how you remembered?" you laugh slightly
"I have a lot of fond memories of this place from when I was a kid. But now... lets just say that things are a bit different now that I'm older" he nods. You have some more of your drink. You go to say something else just as the door opens. You recognize him as one of the Shelby boys. John you believe his name to be.
"Tommy we need you back home" he says, his eyes falling onto you as you turn to face him. "Who's the girl?"
"No one" he says "what do you need help with?"
"Family matter". You stand up
"That is my cue to leave" you say. Going over to the bar again and grabbing your coat "thank you for the drinks Mr Shelby" you say, smiling softly at him as he smiles back. Nodding towards you as you head outside. Going past the younger brother half cautiously as you walk back home. You must've been in the pub longer then you remember as the rain has practically stopped by now. Letting you have a relatively dry walk back.
It had been a week since you moved in. Your sisters were at school so you decided to have a day out. Going out the front door. Turning around to lock it. Just as you see your neighbor coming out of the house next to you. You look and see John coming out. You look away quickly. Locking he front door as he turns to face you
"You're the lass from the pub" You face him and smile slightly
"I don't know what you mean" he nods slightly. Looking at your house as you walk into the street more. "Have a nice day Mr Shelby" you smile as you walk off. Trying to get rid of any business you may have with the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders.
You go on a bit of a shopping spree during your day out. Not buying anything to ornate but possibly spending more money then you should have. Buying fresh fruit and veg, some bread and other necessities. You meet up with one of your friends and have a chat with her.
You head back to your house. Unlocking the front door and heading inside. You place the food down onto the kitchen side, starting to put the stuff away. A few minutes go past before there's a knock at the door. You look, unsure of who it could be. Elizabeth and Mary would just walk in knowing you leave it unlocked for them. You go to the door. Opening it. John and Tommy standing by it. Johnny leaning against the door frame. Before you have time to speak (or close the door on them) the youngest brother speaks. A smile on his face that you can't read.
"Mind if we come in?" your eyes dart between the two men
"Sure" you manage to say. Moving out the way and motioning for them to come in. Body tense as they both head inside. You go into the living room "Do you want anything to drink?" Trying to keep your cool as John sits down. Tommy leans against the wall as he watches you.
"No. You see we've come to have a little chat" the younger says
"About?"
"Are you spying on us?" the older says
"Why would you think that?"
"You bump into us late at night, then you come into the pub. Now you're living next door" the younger says, leaning back onto your sofa as they both watch you. His eyes darting as he expresses his words with his hands.
"Its a small town Mr Shelby. Purely coincidence" he stands up. Turning to face you as he takes his cap off. Your eyes dart to the object before going back up to his face "I am aware of who you are. What you are apart of. But I am not a spy. So there will be no need for you to use that" you motion at his hat. Your eyes fixed onto his as you feel yourself shaking slightly from fear. Trying to regain your composure.
"We asked around about you. No one seems to know who you are. An introverted young woman. No husband or family. Only recently moved in"
"I am orphaned. My mother died when I was young. Father died Just before the war. I lived in London for a while but made some enemies recently so moved back here where I grew up. If that is all the questions you have then I would like you boys to leave my house" John places his hat down onto the side table. Sitting back down on the sofa as he looks at you. Smiling
"I think I'll take that drink now"
You clench your fists slightly but nod. Going into the kitchen you make them both a drink. Resting your hands against the counter top as you curse at yourself slightly. How did you end up here? You really did not want to make the Peaky Blinders you enemy.
You walk back in. Placing two cups down. You stay standing. Folding your arms over your body in an effort to hide your hands shaking. You hear the front door open. Your sisters walking in. "Flo you'll never guess what happened today at... school..." Elizabeth says the last word quietly as she walks into the living room. Mary coming in and grabbing her sisters hand as they look at the two men, then you.
"Why don't you two head upstairs, hmm?" she nods slightly. Her eyes going to the two men before she goes up to her room. Taking her sister with her. You shut the living room door. Shutting your eyes as you lean your head on the door. "Fuck" you mutter. Turning back around as the older one speaks
"You told us your family was dead"
"No I said I was orphaned. I never said my family was dead. Very different things" he nods as he keeps watching you.
"What enemies did you make in London?"
"None that I can't handle" the younger brother laughs. Making you turn towards him "I've dealt with far worse then either of you boys could imagine. I know how to be safe"
"Don't you get worried about your sisters though?" you stay silent "I mean, the reason you didn't tell us about them must've been so we would never find out about them. Never be able to harm them" the younger says. Almost mocking. You take a step closer to him. Keeping heavy eye contact as you speak
"If you ever touch my sisters I will personally rip you apart. Limb by limb. Do you understand?" he stands up. Taking a step towards you
"Was that a threat?" he says. Starting to walk over to you. Tommy moves, facing towards his brother as he puts a hand onto his shoulder as your eyes stay on each others.
"Johnny" he says. A sternness in his voice making the younger look at him. "Go for a walk" he looks at his brother, looks at you. Mutters something under his breath as he opens the door. Leaving. You hear the front door slam shut. You avoid his eyes as you start babbling an apology.
"I'm sorry about that I-"
"I want to make a deal with you" he says. He leans against the wall again. He folds his arms over his torso. His demeanor was a lot more relaxed then yours. You couldn't read him though. You turn to face him properly. Your silence making him continue "I am looking for a wife. I need someone that has no previous associations with myself or my businesses. A positive beacon to my currently negative lifestyle. One that can make me seem trustworthy for future business opportunities"
"Mr Shelby" you say as a soft whisper, your eyes fixed to his as he continues talking
"You said yourself that you have a lot of enemies. Putting not only your life but your sisters lives in danger. I could protect you. The family you have would be safe. I can provide you with money. New clothes. So much food that you would never know what sleeping hungry felt like again" he takes a step towards you. Bringing his arms down as he places them into the pockets of his waistcoat. "You'd be my wife. You'd come with me to professional settings. Help me gain the trust of people that I couldn't on my own" he reaches down. Picking up both the glasses you poured. Handing you one "what do you say?".
You blink at him a couple of times. Taking you a little while before processing what he said. "I am flattered Mr Shelby but... wouldn't a girl of higher status be more rewarding for you? I come from nothing. I have nothing to give you" he pauses for a moment. Eyes unmoving from yours.
"Every time I've met you you've shown me a bravery that no one else has. That is something I value more then riches and materialistic items" you nod slowly as you look down. Thinking through your options before lifting your head up, meeting his gaze as you gently take a glass from him
"Looks like we're getting married" you softly say as you clink your glass to his before downing the liquid. Him letting out a soft chuckle before doing the same
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