#and lastly cannibalism

[i-have-41-protons]

Ah yes, me and my friends: discussing whether or not Ezra Squall would mew, in the group chat. Perfectly reasonable, mhm

[dex0s]

—♡DOUMA X MALE READER WARNING: smut, non-con, cannibalism?, douma, reader having a huge chest, thoracic area called boobs/tits, daddy kink, face sitting, breeding kink, semi-public?, incest?, cliffhanger ending (only because I’m lazy), not proof read

A/N— okay I know I was gone for like 2 months but um— yeah

You were a member of his cult and your older sister got sick to the point she had to stay in bed instead of praying to your demon lord. For the past couple days you had been asking your lord to heal your sister. And at first DOUMA was uninterested or just ignored you but then he got a full look at you. (H/c) hair, beautiful bright (e/c) eyes, nice face, well shaped body, and lastly YOUR CHEST. Oh and how he was so in love.

“Oh look a new play thing. Just. For. Me~ and ONLY me~”

After that you notice changes. One, Douma would ONLY look at you if you in the room but the moment you leave his face becomes disinterested (even if he doesn’t have emotions he feels like his life just decrease by a life time). Two, you ALWAYS feel like you’re being watched no matter what you doing or where you are, there are always RAINBOW EYES watching. And three, when you go and pray to your lord you can notice the lust in his eyes like a predator eyeing their next meal.

“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you sooner… I wonder if that man will let me keep you~ who know maybe I will quit bugging him~”

Knowing damn well that man can hear him

One time you went to douma and asked for his blessing so your sister could get better and by pure coincidence your sister gotten better and could move around better then before. You thanked douma for the blessing but even tho it was a complete coincidence douma wanted more than just a thanks. He gave you his blessing and healed your sister. He wants more and he will get want he wants whether you want it or not .

HaAh~ Oh you tastes Sooo~ good~ Your so good—Fuck! for daddy~

Grinding your hips into the pillow while Douma is thrusting in and out your ass. “Ahh~ you look like dog when you do that~” Douma said, moving his hand up your body and stopping at your chest. “W-wait~AH!” Slamming his cock back in he starts to grope your chest. “Hmm! What a— good boy you are, so good— for daddy” you start to feel yourself about to release and you try to warn your lord but all that came out was babbles. Douma seem to notice this and started to go even harder on you hearing your gummy walls take him in and out and all the noise you were making made him even more hard then white sticky cum came out your dick but that didn’t stop Douma in fact he decided to switch it up a lot bit.

He lifts you over his face, your legs are shaking then slams you down on his face. Taking his long slimy tongue starting with kitty licks, suddenly roughly gripping your thighs and full on eating your ass like there’s no tomorrow. When the door opens (you didn’t even notice at first) it reveals your sister. Your sister was in shock, she didn’t know you had a side like this. Hearing your moans and the licks your sister can feel a wet spot in her undergarment. While your sister was standing there Douma could smell her wetness and started to get upset.

“Why is she here.”

“She needs to leave can’t she see I’m playing with my plaything.”

“It’s her fault he’s in this situation”

“She shouldn’t be so selfish and get sick”

“You know what… It’s show time”

Taking out his tongue from your ass, he moves you to his lap. Picking you up with your legs wrapped around his waist Douma starts to walk to your sister. “You know it’s rude to stare” using one of his free hands and roughly grabbing your sister’s chin forcing her to look at his rainbow eyes. “W-what are you doing to my brother!” Yelled out your sister that was trying to force Douma’s hand off of her and trying to reach for you, when Douma grabs the hand that was reaching for you and pulling it off her body. Finally snapping out the trance you hear a bloody cuddling scream. Turning your head around to see your sister on the ground clutching her shoulder but before you can say anything you were placed on the ground on all fours in front of your sister.

“Why don’t we put a show on for your sister~ hmm dear~”

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

You land hard, elbows hitting the ground with a jolt of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the realization that someone is screaming—Blue is screaming. The heat in your veins fizzles, your heart jolting. Ghost has already sped off toward camp, pulling a knife from his ankle, and you scramble to your feet to follow.

Your movements are clumsy, your mind replaying the last few seconds, searching for any signs of trouble you might have missed. The air is clear, the trees are quiet, the ground is still. Yet, as you weave through the tall grasses that swipe at your ankles, you finally hear it—muffled voices, unmistakably human. They grow sharper with each step you take. 

Ghost reaches camp first, stopping in a lethal stance. You roll in just behind him, eyes snapping to where Blue stands behind the fence, alive and aiming one of her dad’s rifles at four strangers. Still dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, she juts the rifle through a gap in the fortification. Two of the strangers are mounted on a brown horse, while the other two flank their sides, backs swollen with rucksacks and chests thick with gear. There is no doubt they have weapons.

"D-don't come any closer or I'll blow your heads off! I mean it!"

“We’re not here to hurt you,” one of them says calmly. A man.

“I don’t care why you’re here! You need to leave before my dad…” Her eyes flicker to you. “Dad!”

When their heads turn in your direction, you waste no time arching the knife over your head. You’re not much without your bow, but this is all you have.

In a split second, your eyes land on the burliest of the group, a man with a boonie hat and a dense, brown beard. He was the one speaking. The leader, maybe. You aim the knife for his head, but before you can throw it, Ghost grabs your wrist, wrenching you to his chest without warning, the knife falling to the ground.

"Wait," he says in your ear, his breath steady against your skin. There’s a detectable lilt of surprise in his voice. You try to squirm free, but he holds tight. "Stay here."

He lets go. Confusion reels through you. Everything in you screams to pick up the knife, but you hesitate as Ghost signals for Blue to lower the gun.

He calmly walks over to the intruders, heading to the man you were aiming for. The air feels thick as you watch with parted lips, stance still readied and breath racing. Ghost stops in front of him, and the two stare at each other strangely before the man smiles.

A strong hand reaches for Ghost’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

The clanking of metal against ceramic plates and the low murmurs of a fire fill the cabin.

Your spine presses into the wall.

There isn’t a free chair at the table, but you’re not sure you’d sit in one even if there was. Blue stands beside you, hands laced in front of her. She’s silent. You are, too. The cabin feels cramped with seven people in it. It makes your skin itch. 

You can inspect them more thoroughly now that you’re not thinking about who to kill first. 

There are two men—the older one you believe Ghost called Price, and a younger one you think he called Kyle. He’s fine-looking, you figure, underneath the overgrowth of facial hair and grime smudged on his dark skin. He had a tan cap on earlier but now a head of short, black hair is free for him to slick fingers through every now and then. Then there is a woman, some years older than you. She’s beautiful in a raw, Grecian sort of way, with long black hair and a violet undertone to her skin. Lastly, a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. It doesn't take much to discern he is related to Kyle in some way.

They all look starving, though not as much as you once were. Nevertheless, Ghost is feeding them more than scraps. Canned beans, rice, and rabbit. They shovel it into their mouths. The men have muscles on them, so they can’t have been struggling much. Based on all the supplies they carry and the horse tied to a tree outside, you’ve figured they’ve been traveling for some time. A flurry of questions runs through your brain, but your lips remain in a tight line.

Ghost hasn’t said much yet. He hasn't even explained who they are. Your slitted eyes flicker to him. While the strangers fill up the table, he hovers beside it. His body speaks more than his expression. His shoulders are not tense and lethal as they'd been when you first sat at that table scarfing down food. But they're not relaxed, either; his arms crossed, still exposed from the black tee he'd put on for training, giving way to the slight flexes in his corded muscles that signal even he is thrown off by their presence. 

But he trusts them enough to let them in here. With the way they carry themselves, and the fact that Ghost hasn't killed them, they must've been in the military together. He doesn't seem like the type to have had normal friends. 

Kyle speaks first.

He thrums the pads of his fingertips against the wood and clears his throat, breaking your thoughts. "We were hoping you'd still be here, but it was a shot in the dark."

"I’ve never left," Ghost says, plainly.

Kyle sips from his mug and wipes his mouth, then his eyes shift toward you. You meet his gaze with a hardened look. 

"We're sorry for scaring you."

It takes a moment to realize his words aren't for you. Blue glances to her toes. "I wasn't scared." 

His lips lift. "Of course not. It's us who should've been scared of crossing paths with Simon Riley's kid. You did the right thing, you know. Protecting yourself."

"I didn't realize you knew my dad." She nibbles her lip and looks up. "My name is Blue, by the way. And this is..." Her eyes flick to you. "My friend, Twix."

Your tongue pokes your cheek as you look over the new faces. What are you supposed to say? 

"Hi," is all you settle on.

Ghost clears his throat. "Kid, why don't you clean some more water for them."

Blue nods dutifully, lingering only a second before pouring more river water into the pot over the fire.

"Thank you for your kindness. We haven't had a warm meal like this in days," the woman says kindly.

"It's a strong setup you've made for yourself," Price speaks, one hand stroking his beard while he pushes the cleared plate away with the other. He leans back, boonie hat still cradling his head and casting a shadow over his eyes, but you catch a glimpse of warm brown irises that might've comforted you in any other circumstance.

"It's lasted me this long." Ghost shifts his weight slightly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Near the base by the border, further north."

"Last I heard you were in Manchester."

"Once the radios went out, we picked up my wife," he touches the woman's shoulder, "Nereida, and Kyle's nephew here, Ari, from Newcastle. Made camp with a few others. Served us well for the past five years."

Ghost slowly nods and then drawls, "And Soap?”

Price leans his forearms on the table. "Not quite sure. The base was falling apart, but he stayed back, saying he'd meet up with us once he could. That was five years ago."

You're not sure who Soap is, someone else they worked with, maybe. There is a brief pause before Ghost asks, "Why did you leave?"

"More and more of 'em, Simon," Price replies with a slight shake of his head, emitting a low breath. "Made it difficult to even get food."

"Too many of them, not enough of us," Nereida murmurs distantly. Her hand slips under the table, out of view. You imagine it resting on Price's thigh as she leans into him with a weighted sigh. "They always seem to be moving. Not with a destination in mind, of course, but it was only a matter of time before they ruined our setup. We decided to leave before that could happen."

Kyles adds, "It wasn't an easy decision, but living in anticipation of the worst isn't really living at all."

Your brows lower. “Where exactly could you be headed that wouldn't mean living in anticipation of the worst?” you can't stop yourself from asking, the question burning in your mind. 

Price leans back, those warm brown eyes finding yours. A short heartbeat passes before he answers simply, "Switzerland."

The absurdity of that single word response forces a disbelieving, chuffed breath through your nose. Of all the things this stranger could have said, that would have to be the least expected. You anticipate an equally surprised reaction from Ghost, but he seems unnervingly unfazed. Blue, however, swivels her head from where she sits cross-legged in front of the fire.

"What the fuck is Switzerland?"

"It's another country," the boy—Ari—answers.

Blue glances between him and her dad. "Like... not in England?"

Ari snorts softly. "No, not in England. It's across the channel."

"The channel?" Blue frowns. "That's... far, isn't it?"

"Very far," Nereida confirms with a nod.

The subject is brusquely dropped when Ghost reaches for their cleared plates. "You must want to bathe while you're here. There's a river nearby."

Price clears his throat. "These two can go first." He gestures to the woman and child.

Soon enough, you become irritatingly aware of what's happening; you're being shooed away, along with the kids and Nereida, so the three of them can speak privately. There isn't much room to object as you shuffle out of the cabin, carrying a handful of rags for them to wash with along with the homemade soap that you once used to wash away the grime and earth that caked up from traveling. 

The sun beats hard, the river warmer now that spring has aged. Dried sweat clings to your spine from this morning, but bathing yourself is the last thing on your mind now, not when you're still reeling in the presence of people you don't know. You swing a glance at the cabin behind your shoulder, something in your gut twisting. Ghost doesn't want you there to hear whatever they're talking about. 

"This is a good spot," Blue says, stopping in front of a shallow part of the bank where the water is warmest. She hands Ari some soap and teeters on her toes. You realize why she keeps staring at him like that; he's probably the only other kid she's met in years. She is even more shy than when she first met you. "Twix and I will look away, don't worry."

You and Blue sit perched on a rock as they wash themselves. 

"This is weird," she admits quietly to you.

"Very," you mumble.

When they're done, you offer Nereida the only clean clothes you have at the moment: one of the oversized shirts Ghost gave you and some jeans. An annoyingly strange thought brandishes your brain... you don't like the way the black fabric sits on her bare chest, nipples poking through, and the hem hanging down to her knees as it does on you. You should've just given her the dirty blouse to wear.

She sits at the edge of the river, wringing her soaked hair with a rag. From the corner of your eye, you catch Blue helping Ari rinse his dirty clothes in the water. You want to keep an eye on him; your knife is still nestled around your ankle in case they try anything, though a woman and preteen don't heighten your paranoia as much. 

"How long have you two been together?"

Her soft voice makes you blink. "What?"

"You and Simon."

You're confused until you recall the revelation from earlier—the man you've known the past few months as Ghost, the one whose hard form laid beneath you just hours ago, is actually Simon. Simon Riley. You're tempted to say the name; try it out. But it is hard to reconcile with. It might taste strange on your tongue. The name fits a version of him that doesn't exist in this world now, you suppose. British. Simple. Like John or Kyle. The name of a lieutenant. The bits of his face you've witnessed crosses your mind; his nose, lips, and chin seem like Simon. The damn mask is Ghost, though.

"Jesus... I am not—" You shake your head, the sun even hotter on your neck. "I'm not with him like that. We're just allies." You glance back at the cabin in the distance and you fight a scowl. "If that."

She runs her fingers through ravenous tendrils. "Oh. I apologize for assuming."

You offer a small smile. "It's fine."

"How long have you been staying here then?"

"Um, a few months now. I used to stay with my sister and a friend, but they died."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You shrug. "Everyone has lost important people."

"Doesn't make it easier," she says. "Ari's mom and younger sister used to be with us," she adds quietly with a solemn downward cast of her eyes, as if a memory has taken her for a moment. "They passed two years ago during a really rough winter along with this other couple we knew. Then it was just the four of us."

You inhale through your nose and release, frowning. "No child should have to experience that."

"No," she agrees, nodding. "They shouldn't. Which is why we're looking for a better life for him."

"And you think you'll find it in... Switzerland."

Nereida offers a half-smile, as if reading your thoughts. "We'd heard of a commune there, up in the mountains."

"A commune? Like what, a town?" 

"Sort of. Just... more people, living together. Protected. Greys make awful climbers, and the mountains there are much higher than anything in the UK."

This catches your attention, and the divot between your brows deepens. "How do you know it exists?"

"Well, we can't know for certain. John heard about it at the beginning of the spread, but it was too difficult to make arrangements at the time, especially when he had to help out at the medical site and then come find me. Things were a mess, I'm sure you remember."

"Yeah, I do." You reel in her words, thinking. "That was... years ago, though. Aren't you taking a huge risk going there now? What if nothing is there?"

"Staying in England would be a risk, too," she counters. "There is nothing here except death and hardship. You can't hide from it forever."

You look down at the water. Cicadas fill your ears, the buzzing drowning out your voice. "No, you can't."

You go on a hunt that afternoon, itching for some space to breathe. Deer tracks are harder to spot without the snow, but you find the unmistakeable marks of antlers against a tree and follow them. You glance around the forest. It feels endless and like a cage at the same time. Which way did they come from? If they made it to camp by morning, that means they spent the night here somewhere. You don't like the idea that others could be so close by, like that car.

The sun has turned orange by the time a healthy doe skirts in your peripherals. You stalk it behind an oak. An arrow flies from your bow, but you miss; the deer flees. You return in the dark empty-handed. No doubt, the visitors are fatigued, with Ghost already setting blankets across the cabin's floor for them to sleep on. You offer Ari the couch, figuring an exhausted kid needs it more than you do. He knocks out the moment he lays down.

"Here. For the night." Ghost offers you a heavy blanket and nods to the only bare spot of floor left after they've all settled down. 

You avoid his eyes and accept it. The moment he's disappeared to his room, you slip outside under the starlit night, finding the flattest patch of ground to lay the blanket down, which happens to be only a few paces away from a sleeping horse. It's not the couch, but it'll do for a night or two, and you refuse to sleep in the shed again. 

You're in the midst of standing back up after straightening out your makeshift bed when you bump into something solid. A hand grips your bicep and whirls you around, a pair of darkened eyes glowering down at you.

"What are you doing?" you breathe up at him. "I don't like when you grab me like that."

"What are you doing?" he retorts, voice low and hard.

"Trying to get some sleep."

"Out here?"

You look away and shimmy out of his hold. "Does it matter where I sleep?"

"It's not safe out here."

"You had no problem sending me out here before."

"You have since earned your keep," he mutters, as if annoyed you're even mentioning the past. 

"My spot is taken for the night by your lovely friends, so for however long you plan to let them stay, I will sleep out here."

"There is a spot on the floor for you inside."

"I'm not sleeping in there." With them. 

The whites of his eyes flash as he darts his gaze over your face. His tone softens perceptibly. A mere breath. "They won't hurt you, Twix."

You roll your eyes away from him. "I would just rather sleep out here by myself, okay? I prefer solitude at my most vulnerable. And it's not like my experiences with militant men have been pleasant so far." You keep your tone neutral, but a chill touches your spine at the memory.

Ghost emits a low huff. He suddenly rips the blanket from the ground and turns his back to you. "What are you doing?" you gape at him.

"You'll take my bed," he throws over his shoulder.

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.

[xoxochb]

— types of galaxies ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - warnings: one sex reference pairing: percy jackson x astronomy nerd! reader a/n: I totally didn’t project myself onto the reader…

“there’s four types of galaxies. elliptical, spiral, irregular, and peculiar” you explain “elliptical galaxies are round and have evenly spread stars, these mostly consist of old stars because at the moment they cannot form any new ones. do you get that?”

percy nods slowly. you takes this as a sign to continue, “spiral galaxies are flat, these are able to form new stars, and the milky way, our galaxy, is a spiral galaxy! Isn’t that cool? anyways irregular really lived up to its name, they don’t have any one identified shape, they’re kinda doing their own thing, you know what I mean? and lastly, peculiar. these are, for the most part, the result of a galactic collision”

“what’s a galactic collision?” asks percy (for solely one reason: to continue watching your lips as they spew nerdy science facts. he’s a sucker for your intelligence)

you smile happily and begin to explain, “when galaxies collide. their gravitational fields interact and deform shapes of their stars and other matter the galaxy consists of. the outcome of this violent collision results in the formation of a new galaxy. but! not only do they form a new galaxy they can also create galactic cannibalism, spiral arms, superwinds, and starbursts!”

percy lifts his gaze from your lips to your eyes. “starbursts? like the candy?”

“no,” you frown “the formation of stars at a rapid rate”

“oh” percy mirrors your expression “that’s not as fun as it sounds”

you shrug. “eh. did you know this universe is ninety/three billion light years in diameter? it’s huge”

“do you know what else is huge?”

you sigh and ignore his childish comment. “there’s a theory that there are more than just one universe: the multiverse theory. what do you think about it? is there more than one or is it just a hoax?”

“I think,” oh no. “that you’re a nerd. and also you should kiss me”

“perseus” you warn. though he doesn’t react in any way, a lingering smirk adorning his mouth. and you know he won’t give up until he’s gotten what he wants. you roll your eyes and peck his lips, though when you go to pull back he doesn’t allow you, holding the back of your head to keep your lips on his. after, he reluctantly pulls away, yet keeps your lips still lingering against his own

“I like when you talk nerdy”

you laugh. “I figured”

[axydoesstuff]

Lately i've been thinking a lot about how Morgott probably fucking hated Rykard

Like for starters, they're complete opposites ideologically speaking: one is a complete and devout follower of the Golden Order that buys all their bullshit even when it actively despised and harmed him, and the other went on to become Public Enemy #1 for refusing to submit to the whims of gods and decided to oppose them by doing the most evil, bizarre and overall blasphemous shit imaginable. I imagine even before Rykard fully declared war that he and Morgott were always butting heads with one another

Then there's the fact that the siege of Mount Gelmir is "the most appalling battle in the entirety of the Shattering" and has been clearly going on for loooong enough time that Leyndell soldiers have straight up resorted to cannibalism and even succumbed to the Frenzied Flame. Morgott must reaaaaally want Rykard dead if he keeps trying over and over to take Gelmir

And lastly there is Morgott's pre-battle cutscene. Here he calls out all of the demigods as "willful traitors", yet still speaks their names with respect and dignity, even going so far as to refer to Godrick as "The Golden" rather than "The Grafted" (which like. what is up with that???? was that his actual legitimate title or did he steal it from Godwyn after he died????????)

But then when he says "Praetor Rykard" he does so with the most raspy and disgust filled voice ever

Like im sorry but idgaf anymore about whatever Miquella was doing in Da Shadow RealmTM or who the fuck Messmer is, these crusty old men had beef with eachother and i need to know all about it

[rhiannonsknife]

heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol

And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.

Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.

Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.

my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her

── ౿🪵 NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU

— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.

— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.

— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!

out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.

shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.

perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.

maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.

either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.

so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.

at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.

gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.

sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.

over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.

one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.

when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.

she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.

as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.

maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.

it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.

you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.

her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.

that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.

it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.

after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.

shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.

she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.

“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.

when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.

even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.

around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.

that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.

you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.

in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.

the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.

it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.

“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.

“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.

shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.

now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.

shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.

"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.

you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.

other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.

you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.

“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”

shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3

[reiwanwan]

A woman’s unwavering love for her husband, Tommy Shelby, grows into an all-consuming obsession. As she yearns for his affection and acceptance, her desperation pulls her deeper into the shadows of his life, willing to sacrifice everything to be truly seen—even if it means losing herself completely.

word count: 1.8k

content includes: Obsessive love, emotional dependency, dark and unsettling imagery. Cannibalism and maybe disturbing to some readers. Recommended for mature audiences.

Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky blinders. Your husband. He’s a hard worker who sacrifices his own life for the sake of his family. You loved him dearly. Once, as a young girl in your early twenties, you’d spotted him leaning against a brick wall, cigarette balanced between his lips, eyes icy and piercing.Always wishing he would look your way with those eyes that made your heart stop for a moment when he did. But you always knew that your chances of him even noticing you was unlikely, considering after seeing the women he often chose, you never could come close to any of them. The untouchable, powerful ones, the ones who wore confidence like armor.So when in the end, he did choose you, the only possible reason could be God's miracle, perhaps a cruel one, but a miracle all the same. So you claimed to be a believer afterwards.

You loved the feeling of being a woman in her home with her children and you lived for the moment when Tommy would come home, seeing his car rounding around the corner from the window. Fixing your hair and blouse and practising the perfect smile that would greet him to make sure he sees only the best of you when he opens that door. You loved his tired expression and when he would lay on the bed still in his outdoor clothes, smoking and puffing out the smoke with his chin facing the ceiling revealing his Adam’s apple. You would always help remove his coat and hang it on the rack. He would smile at you afterwards and thank you for being so helpful and then pull you into the bed for a kiss that always left you breathless and a hot blushing mess every single time no matter how long you’ve been married to him.

But lately he’s been coming home later than usual and leaving the house more. Oftentimes, unexpectedly and in a hurry. Every time you would inquire about where or why he was leaving he would always just tell you he would be back home soon. “Tommy, where are you going this time? It's two in the afternoon” you asked, following him around as he searched for his coat and hat and then lastly, his gun. “It’s alright dear, don’t worry about me, just take care of the kids and try to get a good night's sleep while I'm away alright?” he asked, holding your chin, tilting it upwards forcing you to meet his gaze. And you would try your very best to obey whatever he told you to do because you were good to him. But Tommy didn’t know that you struggled to sleep without him next to you. His presence on your bed late at night made you safe and sleepy. Holding onto his lean muscular body brought you warmth to your cold body and you swore you didn’t need a blanket. You never liked sleeping alone. You nodded your head, “Good, I’ll be back darling” he says before kissing your forehead and leaving.

You’d known from the start about the kind of man Tommy was, the blood that stained his hands, the secrets he hid behind those steely eyes. But the longer he kept his world sealed off from you, the more the emptiness grew. As his wife, you had a right to know, to share his burdens, but every question you asked met a dismissive smile, a hurried touch.

And that was another thing for you. You would never question him.You craved his approval, his affection. You know you should ask, but to you, it felt like a sin to not listen to your husband whom you were completely devoted to. So with that, you never questioned his love for you. Tommy had proposed to you a few years after Grace’s death. And you knew how much he loved Grace and how much it destroyed him when she was shot. Grace was an amazing woman. Strong and powerful, no doubt. There was nothing that could convince anyone that she was not Tommy’s missing piece. Tommy was lonely before Grace came along. So you were smart enough not to try to replace her. You could never be her, but a part of you wished you were because maybe then Tommy would love you like how you loved him. Maybe then he’ll stop keeping secrets from you, maybe then he’ll stop coming home with the smell of another woman's perfume on his neck. And maybe it wouldn’t feel wrong for you when you would try to prove yourself to him that if you couldn’t be Grace, you were just as good.

You lay alone in your king size bed trying to lull yourself back to sleep but the empty space on Tommy’s side of the bed won’t allow you to. You wanted to hold on to Tommy, hoping he would come home as soon as possible so you could pull him close to your chest and rest your head on the crook of his neck. But his absence was starting to drive you mad, just as it always did. Later deep in the night, you stood up and walked over to your vanity and looked at yourself. You didn’t even recognise yourself anymore, you looked like nothing and maybe that’s what you were anyway— nothing. You were empty unless your husband, Tommy, was there. Tommy gave you a reason to believe you were capable of love. The moment he looked at you, he saw you. And that was enough for you to be satisfied. When he held your hand, your heart fluttered. When he kissed you, you couldn’t ask for anything more. You were completely wrapped around his finger for reasons even you couldn’t figure out. So you figured that you didn’t love him dearly. You loved him desperately. You needed him, desperately, destructively, in a way that bordered on worship.

You remembered a time when Polly had tried talking some sense into your head about Tommy. She asked if you would really continue to stay with Tommy knowing that he doesn’t and will never love you as much as he did with Grace. You couldn’t respond and looked down at your teacup with shame. You knew how low you were stooping for one singular man, but your heart didn’t want anybody else. You’ve tried to fall in love with other men before, but none of them brought you the same fulfilment like Tommy did. And you’ve told yourself that you will continue to love him and stay until Tommy himself says that he doesn’t love you as much as he loved Grace. You needed to hear him say it himself, then maybe, just maybe you would move on and leave.

“You’re letting him eat you alive” Polly says looking at you with her usual calm and stoic expression, her voice low and unsparing as she watches you sip your tea. She takes a hit of her cigarette and looks at you for a moment, “But I suppose that’s what you want, isn’t it?” A smirk played on her lips as she flicked the ashes from her cigarette and took a sip of her wine. Polly did not lie one bit. You wanted Tommy to consume you, to claim you, to devour you entirely, leaving nothing behind. If he took you, piece by piece, even down to your bones, then you’d know he truly wanted you. If Tommy was starving and chose to eat you, that meant that he saw you as worthy enough to be eaten and that you were at least something for him.

When Tommy finally came back home the next day, you made sure to greet him as usual. He seemed frustrated and all you wanted to do was take it all away from him ready to absorb his frustration, to be the balm for his pain. As he reached over to kiss you, you realised his usual kisses had changed, he wasn’t gentle and loving anymore. He was hungry. The kiss you both shared was aggressive and he had pushed you against the wall with his hands cupping your head before it could hit the wall. You thought for one strange, dizzying moment that he might actually sink his teeth into you, might truly consume you, and a thrill raced through you at the thought. Your arms tightened around his neck, pressing him closer, surrendering entirely. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes looking straight at you. You realised that you needed more than for him to love you. You needed him to devour you. If he saw you as delicious, if he was hungry, or even as a sacrifice. You needed him to eat you to fulfil the emptiness inside you.

“Sorry love, I went a bit overboard there… just some things that didn’t go the way I had planned it” he says, his voice soft and forehead still pressed on yours. “It’s alright Tommy, I get it, your work’s not easy at all” you answered with the same amount of softness as you placed the palm of your hands on both sides of his cheeks. Tommy in this position, so vulnerable, made you wonder about If he did eat you—if he tore into your flesh with those perfect teeth—would you be enough? Would you taste sweet on his tongue, or would he spit you out, unsatisfied? Would your blood sate his thirst, or would it only remind him of what he truly wanted: someone like Grace, someone stronger, someone worthy? You wanted him to consume you, fully, completely, leaving no trace behind.

You imagined vividly at how he might eat you. Beginning by holding you close to his chest until there was no more space between the both of you. And he would start slowly then, piece by piece, he would bite off small bits of you. But even as the thought filled you with a strange satisfaction, your mind turned to the aftermath, to the hollow ache he might feel from your overwhelming love.

What if you made him sick? What if, even in giving yourself over entirely, you failed to satisfy him? You could see it now—Tommy, somewhere in the darkness, clutching his stomach in pain, your love rotting inside him like a poison. You imagined him waking in the dead of night, sickened by the very thing you had hoped would make him feel whole, and the thought clawed at you, a deeper wound than any emptiness you’d felt before.

In your mind, you saw yourself giving everything to him, surrendering even your soul. Yet, in the stillness, a cruel whisper surfaced, the final, maddening twist of your devotion. Maybe you weren’t enough. Maybe even your love, given to him whole, would leave him empty.

Your fingers curled around his, holding on as if he might vanish at any moment, but still, you felt that gnawing, hollow ache, as though the weight of your own love might finally consume you.

[scenteddelusion5]

Could you write a Vox x Alastor’s Child? Wherein reader views their fights as a “bonding activity” because it relieves stress for the both of them because they’re not willing to kill each other due to not wanting to hurt reader and they’ll be civil when they need to be. A large chunk of their rivalry being due to Alastor seeing Vox as trying to steal his child from him (making them his partner both romantically & business wise, them becoming an actor) and Vox seeing it the same way with Alastor trying to drag them on random outings when they’re supposed to film or have time together. - @am-i-interrupting

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 1

Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)

Note: At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this one, especially because i had already written a daughter character, already have a daughter oc myself and then would have this child. But then I had this Romeo and Juliet inspo in mind and now I wanted to do it.

!!!!! NOTE ABOUT REQUEST !!!!!

So I really liked the idea of this Vox and Alastor dynamic but I can't write short stories so instead I'm doing a 2 or 3 parter about how they got into this dynamic. So they aren't like how you requested yet.

Word count: 3436

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where denizen blood makes denizen teeth unclean, From forth the innovation of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers arise,"

Y/n sat on the balcony of their father's mansion. Nothing but trees, or at least hell's version of trees, could be seen from there. The bustling city was ways away from the territory most denizens were too afraid of to enter. The book they were reading was written a small auteur in hell, it was obvious that he had taken great inspiration from a much more famous work. An old-fashioned, cannibal and a modern man, with more savoury tastes, falling in love, their families hate each other yada yada yada. Nothing they hadn't read before.

The demon, whom resembled a deer, put their book down and started messing with the knobs on their older radio. It sprung alive with the voice of their father; Alastor the Radio Demon, feared all throughout hell. On his broadcast played a catchy jazz song that, every once in a while, got interrupted by agonizing screams.

"That was an amazing number." The Radio glowed green as he spoke. "It brings me all the way back to the nights I spend in the speakeasies. Let's continue on-"

Everyday Alastor would broadcast the news and gossip of the week at exactly 10 a.m. and Y/n would always tune in.

"- Oh, and make sure to stay clear of the Carmine mansion this evening. The overlords are having a little get-together. So if you don't want to be served for dinner, I recommend you go home early tonight."

Right, Camilla Carmine was holding a party to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Carmine industries. Y/n was so excited. Normally their father wouldn't let them go to parties, but considering he would be there, he allowed them to go this time.

"Lastly I have a personal message to my favourite fan. I couldn't have wished for a better fawn. I hope you liked the breakfast I cooked especially for you, that demon was a struggle to catch. Hahaha," he laughed, "see you after the broadcast. Let's put on (song), it's not really my style but considering it's your favourite, I can make an exception." Their song slowly came on while Alastor's voice faded.

Y/n hadn't made friends outside of cannibal town. They had to admit they were a bit nervous...

The day went by faster and faster as the night grew closer. Y/n had put on their green gown/suit. It was beautiful; adorned with black lace, a pattern of turns and roses sewn into it.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked while turning around.

Alastor, whose suit didn't look all THAT different from his usual one, studied them up and down. "You look delightful, fawn. Every single demon in that building will see green from jealousy."

"Thanks dad."

Despite the fact that cars were already owned by most citizens in the time Alastor was alive, he preferred to walk, even to such an important event as this. So, when the two off them arrived, they stepped in through a side door instead of the big red carpet where the limousines dropped off guests.

"Remember Y/n, don't talk to people you don't know and if something goes wrong, find me or Rosie." Alastor's antlers started to grow and static filled the air. "I'll destroy however dares to hurt you."

"Don't worry, dad. I'm an adult, I can take care of myself." They laughed off their dad's threatening stature. "But if something happens I can't handle, I'll go to you."

The ballroom was decorated with black gold and white. All kinds of denizens were roaming around, from high standing overlords to imp servants. There were no familiar faces. The only other overlord Y/n had ever met besides Alastor was Rosie. Even so they had immediately split up from Alastor in favour of exploring the buffet table.

After picking up a plate, they started picking the tastiest little snacks. There was even a few dishes with demon in them provided for the cannibals.

Vox had spent four hours making himself presentable in a fancy blue suit and a new screen protector. the other Vees had matched his style. So when the three stepped out of their high-tech car and got bombarded with paparazzi, it was clear that the three belonged together.

It isn't often that they had the chance to converse with other demons of their status. It was the perfect chance to make new connections.

Vox had gotten the chance with a few other demons before it happened. His eyes landed on the most beautiful person Vox had ever seen. Their looks hypnotized the tv-demon... Which was supposed to be HIS power.

"Hey Voxie, you never guess who I saw~... Voxie? Vox... VOX!" No matter how hard Valentino tried, he wasn't able to capture Vox's attention. "What are you looking at?..." Following his colleague's line of sight, Val's eyes landed on them too. "Oooohhh, I see~ Should I go talk to them for you, maybe I can convince them to stay the night in our bed."

Vox slightly buffered. "What! NO! I'm going myself, yeah, I can handle this myself."

Y/n was enjoying a lovely tea sandwich with raw, demon heart on it, when a person they didn't recognize came up to them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." The man with a tv for a head grabbed their hand and placed a kiss on their hand. "I'm Vox, and you are?"

"Y/n, and it's a pleasure to meet you too," they introduced themselves before shoving another tea sandwich in their mouth.

"You must really like those sandwiches."

Y/n aggressively nodded her head. "YES! Here try one!" they shoved one of them in Vox's face who reluctantly eat it.

"Wow, that's... an unique flavour."

"Yeah, heart does taste very peculiar but I like it."

It put Vox off that the demon had spoken so casually about cannibalism, however, he was even more put off that he was just fed ACTUAL DEMON. So, when they weren't looking, he drank an entire glass of champagne in one go, hoping to wash off the taste.

"Anyway... I was hoping to dance with you." Vox offered out his hand but pulled it away again when he saw the dissapointment in their face.

"I would love too but I don't think my father would be happy to see me dancing with anyone. I'm sorry."

He thought about it for a few seconds. "Y'know I'm quite familiar with this place, there is a smaller ballroom a few doors down. If you want to, you could take me up on the offer there." The overlord suggested.

Normally, Y/n would've never said yes. Going to an empty room with a stranger who must have quite a lot of power. Only an idiot would follow him... Maybe they were a bit of an idiot but Y/n was intrigued by the man, so much so that they decided to go.

"Alright."

Hours went by while the two of them danced, talked and drank in the empty ballroom. Y/n felt themself falling deeper and deeper in love with the handsome stranger. The confident way he spoke, the way he buffered and glitched whenever he got flustered, the way he would get angry when they hurt his pride by laughing at his attempts to woo them. He was perfect.

"Now, tell me Vox. Who exactly are you? Like, I know you your name but you must have been invited for a reason, so...??" Y/n asked.

"You mean you really don't recognize me?" Vox asked flabbergasted. "I'm the CEO of VoxTech." The other demon still looked confused. "The biggest tech company of hell? We release new products almost every single day."

"I'm not big on modern technology, I died during the 1920's," Y/n explained, "I tried using a computer once and it didn't go well."

"Well, that's really no good. As a demon of high society, you should keep up with modern invention, if you ever want the help I don't mind teaching you how to use it." Vox stared at them lovingly. "You know what, I'll even give you a phone. Give your address and I'll send you on-"

"HEY! Vox!" A girl with pink and purple hair walked in. She wore a poofy pink dress and her face was covered in make-up. Her bloodshot red eyes landed on the person standing next to her friend. "Oooeeehhh, and who are you?"

"Velvette, Y/n. Y/n, Velvette." Vox introduced them to each other. "They have been great company tonight, right love?" He caressed the side of their face."

Y/n got redder and redder as the conversation went on. "Yeah, it was great."

"Well, sorry that I gotta burst your bubble." Velvette interrupted the sweet moment between the two. "But the Carmines are about to have their speech and you know how pissy those old fuckers get about shit like this."

Y/n looked at the clock hanging on the wall and realised they had been gone from the party for hours. "Yeah, I should really be going back too. My father is provably worried about me."

The three swiftly made their way back to the main ballroom, Velvette joking about the two lovebirds the whole time.

Once there, they gathered by the crowd standing around a podium. Carmilla was standing there, already holding her speech about the start of her company, the amazing growth and the future. Although a very basic speech, demons were at the fact that the Carmine had mentioned future dealings and couldn't wait for the opportunity to become a part of them. One of them seemed to be the handsome TV Demon that Y/n had hopelessly fallen in love with over the course of the evening.

"Excited I see," Y/n said while pointing to the electricity coming off of Vox, "I'm not sure that a deal with Carmilla is going to happen if you electrocuted her."

"Hey! I'm a great negotiator. Thank you very much!" The man joked.

Alastor had kept his child in his sight the whole evening.... Until he didn’t. They were right over by the buffet table just a second ago. Y/n couldn’t have gone far. So, he went on a search, but after an hour, he found nothing. He even asked Rosie for help but no luck. He had stayed looking until Carmilla started her speech and even then Alastor still kept an eye open for her.

What he never expected to see, was his child, his lovely, well-behaved, miracle of a child, to be joking around with his nemesis. And were they.... Blushing?

Static filled the air around him, symbols floated around his head. The terrifying shadow of his ever-growing antlers made every demon and demoness run out of his way.

Once he got really close he could hear their conversation.

"You're such a dork!" His child laughed.

Alastor could only see their back, but he knew what their smile looked like right now. Unlike his plastered smile that hid his emotions, Y/n's was genuine.

"I'm the dork? Have you se-" Vox's eyes drifted to the strange red symbols, when he noticed Alastor standing there. A small x on his forehead, eyes like dials and his smile wide.

Normally, during their fights Alastor would be somewhat lenient with him. He still roasted Vox to the living world and back but he never outright tried to murder him. This meant that he had never experienced the true wrath of the Radio Demon. But right in that moment, Vox felt like his days were numbered.

"Holy shit," Velvette muttered.

Noticing the two Vees were looking behind them, Y/n turned around and as soon as they did, Alastor switched back to normal like clockwork.

"Oh, hey dad!" Y/n greeted him sweetly. "What are you doing?"

"Oh nothing, little fawn," the Radio Demon spoke, distain clear in his tone of voice, "now tell me, why are you wasting your time conversing with such vermin? Especially, a styleless one like that insecure, copycat, picture box."

Vox was still staring between the two of them. Y/n was Alastor's child! The one the Radio host always talks about, the only thing that freak actually seems to care about. Why did it have to be them the overlord had fallen in love with at that ball?

"You are the Radio Demons child!" The man freaked out.

"I didn't think you would care about that..." Y/n's face turned into a frown, unlike their father’s whose grin only grew wider.

"I-I" The tv started buffering. " I don't..."

"Come one Y/n, let's find someone with more class." Alastor turned around, his child in toe.

"Wow, can't believe you got the hots for that man's child." Velvette quickly snapped a picture of Vox's stunned face and send it to Valentino. You'll never guess what happened. She typed under it.

Y/n looked down at their shoes, not wanting to see their father's victorious grin. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Whatever do you mean, little fawn?"

"You know what," they replied sounding angry this time, "why did you scare away the first real people I made friends with here in hell?!"

Y/n had never had an attitude before, never talked back, never even sounded annoyed. It scared Alastor for a few seconds. "That... Vox isn't the type of person you should make friends with'."

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Tears filled their eyes and their voice was strained. "I want to go home."

Once home, Y/n attempted to rush up the stairs but was stopped by Alastor’s shadow grabbing them by the arm. They were struggling to get away when Alastor cupped their face with his hands and looked suspiciously in their eyes. He was searching for something.

"Let go of me!" Their eyes glowed as they screamed.

When Y/n tried to pull away again, Alastor's grip tightened. "You've never acted like this before. He must have hypnotised you, so be a doll and let me find his spell!"

But no matter how much he searched for even a sign of demonic manipulation. Did Vox not hypnotize them? Then why were they.... Because of Alastor's second of confusion, Y/n could quickly pull away. They rushed up to their room and locked the door.

Alastor just stood there, stunned until a knock came from the door. He straightened his suit before opening it.

"Hi Alastor, I saw you two... Leave and thought you might need a listening-ear." Rosie stepped inside and made her way to the dining room. "Besides I could really use a cup of thee after such a long night."

"You know me too well, Rosie. I'll get some snacks too."

"They've never even raised their voice at me before but one hour with that noisy rectangle and Y/n is acting like a rebelious teen." Alastor took a bite from the index finger snack. "I tried to look for a sign of hypnosis but there was nothing. What did he do to them?"

"Ever thought about it that Vox didn't do anything?" Rosie suggested.

Alastor's pupils turned into dials. "Hmm? What did you just say?"

"Ya have to think about this differently." Rosie took a sip from her tea. "A demon always buried in their books with little to no interaction with the outside world goes out for the first time in years and meets a charming man who's interested in them. It's just like one those romance tropes they always reads about."

The other overlord considered it. "Then what do you suggest we do about it. How can I show them that they deserve much better?"

"First of all, have a conversation with them. A genuine one."

"And then?"

Rosie's smile showed her sharp teeth. "Then-"

Vox was still buffering from that crazy night. He fell in love with ALASTOR'S CHILD, for god's sake. He was connected to his advanced computer, rebooting his systems. Images of Y/n, memories he saved in his files, flashed over the many monitors in his room. The doors to his office opened revealing the other two Vees.

"Damn, Voxie. You've never had to reboot after we've 'hang out' before." Valentino leaned over his colleague's shoulder. "You aren't going to demote me from being your favourite, right?"

"I wouldn't sound so confident Val. Vox was pretty hooked last night, you should've seen him." Velvette pulled up the picture she took. "This photo doesn't do his obsession justice."

"Stop it, Velvette." The TV Demon unplugged himself from the computer set-up. "It's never going to work out anyway. And it's all that shitty, old demon's fault!"

"You really think that?" Velvette asked. "I mean, they looked pretty interested to me... You could always go over to them and explain yourself. Oh and while you're there, try to find a snoop that'll make my drama Sinstagram go viral."

"Voxie doesn't need them. Just stay with me and I'll make you forget them in just five minutes." The moth demon's cigarette smoke formed a heart.

The screen buffered once more. "Get out! The both of you."

"I'll wait in my room." The two Vees made their way out.

Once he was sure they were gone, Vox pulled up another file. Y/n's beautiful face showed on the screen and their addicting laugh filled the room.

Y/n sat against their door, crying. They could see the moon through the balcony window. It's red light filled the room. They couldn't believe their father had reacted like that. And they couldn't get the face Vox made when he released their connection to the Radio Demon out of their head. It plagued their mind since the moment it happened.

Their room seemed so small, so empty, so cold. Nothing had physically changed but mentally, emotionally, everything was different. They got a taste of that beautiful romance and it was taking away from them in the blink of an eye.

Y/n was so deep in their self-pity that they didn't notice the moonlight was blocked by something. They were jolted out of their own thoughts by a knock on the window.

Looking up they saw none other than Vox standing there. His suit was covered in dirt and branches that he got certainly caught in on his way there.

They quickly walked over to open the door, stumbling on their way.

"Y/n, I- uhm, you must find it weird that I show up on you balcony like this." Vox's screen got slightly red. "I wanted to apologize for this evening. I don't care who your father is, I- uhm I care about you."

"Vox, I need you to be honest with me. Did you hypnotize me?"

Y/n's sad look broke his heart. Who got into their head that he hypnotized them?

"Y/n, I didn't and I will never do it." He put his hand on their cheek. "I promise."

Blush decorated their face. "Then can you tell me what's going on between you and my dad?"

"Of course."

The two sat on their bed, cuddling. Vox had told them about everything. The start of their feud, his constant fighting with Alastor but also the fact that he fell in love with them at first sight. It was a lovely, domestic moment.

"One time I got so angry at your dad that I made a complete smear campaign against him. it didn't work out, he completely cut off all my broadcasts, all seventy channels."

"I think he once told me about that," Y/n laughed, "you get more under his skin then you think. Even before he saw he two of us together."

"If you say so..."

Their banter went on for hours. The two did their best to keep sounds to a minimum so Alastor wouldn't find out.

"Oh, before I leave, here." Vox handed them a white box. "it's a phone. I made sure to remove all spying devices and I programmed you a special assistant. It should help you figuring out how it works."

"You put spying devices in people's phones?"

"Uh-I"

"Don't worry, I get it. It's hell. There is no need to explain yourself."

"Right." Vox tried to laugh it off like Y/n was doing. "It's getting late, I should go. Wouldn't want the Radio Demon to know I'm meeting up with his daughter without a chaperone."

This time when Y/n was separated from Vox, they felt fine. Because they knew that he loved them. They were still longing for him, but not in a sad way. It was pure, romantic love.

Part 2

Masterlist/request guidelines

[p0rk-guts]

He's finally done I think. WOAW! Radio demon time!!!

Okay time for comparison + breakdown rant ^ - ^ another SUPER long one I had a lot to say about this silly guy

ALRIGHT. So. Atp all that can be said has been said about Alastor but I'll gloss over it anyhow. Grossly historically inaccurate hair and clothing. Invisible deer theming. One of the main reasons he's got one of the most clowned on designs in the show is bc he's a pretty good representation of the worst it has to offer. He's absurdly red and has the waspiest waist in town. Also gotta zero in on the coat for a second bc I find it incredibly stupid that he went to that tailor bc of his coat being ripped and then left the shop with the exact same torn coat on oh goddd that felt like a complete joke who wrote this

Also his "redesign" was pointless. He stayed pretty much entirely the same except his colors got pinker and grosser and now he has this?? White trim on his lapels??? Even less 1930's accurate and it only serves to hurt the pallate in my eyes. It's the only spot of white on his entire design, it doesn't appear anywhere else so it throws it all off. And it's so bright. Is it supposed to be a focal point?? His tits????

Anyways onto my guy who I love so very deeply. I'm pretty sure sepia film was outdated by the 1930s but I gave him a palette inspired by it to emphasize how dated and stuck in old ways he is. Added blood red accents bc. Well. Cannibal murderer. Also bc I redid the sin colors so red is wrath and it seems like a fitting sin to pair him with.

After looking into 1930's men's fashion a tiny bit (thanks anon, this video was helpful!) and gave him a double breasted coat but wider and pointier so he looks a little less like just some normal guy and really emphasize how prideful and egotistical he is. "Ooo look at me I'm super big and imposing and powerfulll". I think it's a fun character trait of his. Definitely keeping it.

I liked him wearing gloves bc I feel like he wouldn't like getting his hands directly dirty and would always be covered when committing his murders. Maybe he's a germaphobe even. "I can excuse murder but I draw the line at dried blood on my skin". Also the gloves being white would contrast really well with blood so. Love that

I gave him a long tie to free him from the Vivziepop bow tie uniform and a fedora to add to the 1930's vibe and serve as something that can occasionally obscure his face in shadow. His glasses are also opaque and I imagine his eyes would rarely be shown if ever to make him seem more inhuman and off-putting, disconnecting him from personhood a bit. Wanted to add to that with his smiling mouth never opening and just being a static grin that can only occasionally widen or lessen, his voice cracking out of his "speaker" with fuzzy radio static. Seen multiple ppl use that idea and it always eats

I love Alastor's silly theatric nature (primarily in the pilot) and I'd probably keep it, but I'd add a layer of uncanny-ness to him where when he's not putting on his silly jovial facade, he gives off an unnerving vibe. Trying to appear approachable and charming and pleasant to lure people in before he's revealed to be less than human. Loveee thattt

I love Alastor being a deer. Predator becoming prey (animal) + "prey animal" lulling people into a false sense of security before striking. Love it. We should be CAPITALIZING ON IT❗So I gave him deer like legs, visible deer hooves, and more readable deer ears + the ham radio tower antenna antlers (sorry 4 calling them horns 💀)

Tried to make it a little more obvious that he's a mixed man of color by giving him dark wavy hair and the faintest hint of lip definition Viv uses in her style. I think it works. He's still not dark skinned tho

LASTLY the mic. Also not an original idea as I've seen tons of others turn it into a carbon mic but turned into a pentagram shape and I love the idea a lotttt so I joined the crew.

AND THAT DOES IT!!!! hope u like him as much as I do hehe. Just 1 supplemental doodle this time sorry :/ showing off how his face is probably obscured most of the time. He's. So hard to draw. I'm just bad at men but I'm tryinggggg guys

Alsoooo I've already finished the drawings for Niffty, Angel, and Husk! Once I've finished their breakdowns I'll add em right to the queue, and then I'll make a post with all of the main 6 together :3

[aggywytchking]

RadioStatic Crumbs

just because I see no one else mentioning them- and I really enjoy the ex-friendship, one sided interest theory

#1: Welcome home

When Vox starts his big song about his supposed enemy coming back after years away, his very first line is:

“Welcome home”

Now at first whenI watched the show I thought he was like saying that to himself as he walked up to the screens? But now I realized he was literally just saying “welcome home” to Alastor. Which is just so…

#2 Alastor lets Vox see him on camera.

So we all know from the last episode that Vox somehow has a photograph of Alastor- but two times before that, we see Vox viewing Alastor on video. Once on the initial security footage (which glitches due to one of them)

But then again on the video watch- he must be able to see Alastor.

At first when he turns he’s just annoyed, by once he’s face-to-face with Alastor he does the same startled/sad expression we see from Husk in episode 4.

#3 Manners/ Mirroring

On a lesser note, I wonder if they got along initially due to Vox having some of the best manners we see out of any of the male characters.

I also noticed Vox does the same hand- behind back pose, and smiles forcibly quite often

#4 Familiar tone

Most of the reoccurring characters call Alastor “radio demon” or sir at least once. Vox though only ever calls him Alastor, except in his broadcast subtitle he says “radio guy.” (Also the little ramble about how much he so doesn’t care down there is hilarious)

Also in this image he claims to know Alastor has Hooved feet? But we only ever see Alastor wearing shoes

Lastly he’s the only one to make any sort of deer joke (we hear a lot of cat jokes at the expense of Husk, but no one points out Alastor’s deer features outside of Vox). Also being that Alastor is a cannibal, and shown to eat deer gruesomely- this clip feels less of a threat and more like preparing the dude his favorite meal lol

[edgeray]

Request Page ≧◉◡◉≦

Decided that I will be accepting requests over the summer.

I will only accept Arlecchino requests, because I cannot write for any other character. Bear with me, as this is the first time I've done this. If the amount of rules I have scare you, sorry.

TLDR;

More specifics under the cut if you have questions, but also feel free to send me an ask if you have more questions.

I write Arlecchino x Reader's (platonic and romantic) and I write wlw Arlecchino ships. No nsfw, dark, sensitive, specific, taboo, or lore heavy requests for x Reader's and ships. Borderline nsfw is okay, as long as I can imply it. I do not write amab characters, meaning no amab readers and no straight ships. No Arlefuri. Reader will default to gender-neutral, unless requested afab. I love writing AUs, so please send me some! I'm open to ANY AU (as long as it pertains to my rules). I can write fluff, angst, crack, etc. You can request for a continuation of my other works as well, which you can find in my masterlist. Lastly, if you plan on requesting more than once as anon, give yourself a name/emoji :)

Want to request but don't have any ideas? Check out my ideas/wip post here. Feel free to request anything on here, I'm always excited to get the opportunity to write more.

Here are some rules for requesting :

rules that aren't relating to Reader apply to ships requests as well (ie. still no nsfw).

no nsfw requests. there are enough nsfw blogs out there that will love to take your requests ^0^, but there are few blogs dedicated to arlecchino for sfw, which is what I want to establish this blog for. (i recommend for nsfw x Reader's @/megistusdiary, @/knavesflame, @/servalisms for nsfw ;]). I can write suggestive, but I will not write actual sex.

no typical 'dead dove do not eat' topics (ie. cannibalism, torture, etc.)

no taboo topics (ie. any form of incest).

no *super* sensitive topics (ie. SH, SA, etc).

no specific reader requests (like reader with a specific illness/disease/condition, or reader that has a particular racial/ ethnical/ cultural/ religious background, etc). I know this is vague, so if you do request something along the lines, I will reply back whether or not I will be doing it. I do not want to exclude people in my writing.

no amab reader. unless specified afab reader by request, reader will be gender neutral

no mlw ships. i cannot write male characters, hence why the no amab reader either.

no lore heavy requests (sorry, I don't have much genshin knowledge ;()

General Information :

Asks will generally be the same length range of my blurbs (0.5k-2.5k words depending on how much I like the idea and can write about it

I'm willing to write for all sorts of scenario! Wholesome, angsty, crack, etc.

I can't say how fast each request will take because I've never done this before, but I'll try to be swift! It may vary because of my summer schedule.

Please send me AU requests (ie. modern au, soulmate au, space au, monster au, go crazy)! I think they're the coolest thing ever, and I don't have to rely on Genshin lore, which I have limited knowledge of.

Feel free to request a continuation on my works too (though it will take longer to do than usual asks)

I can write for Arle ships! (but only wlw ships, because I cannot see Arlecchino with a man, EVER). However, unfortunately, I will not write for Arlecchino and Furina (it is not my cup of tea, and there's plenty of Arlefuri content out there). My favorites are Arlevie and Arlebina, but I'll consider other requests.

[celestialkiri]

THAT MINI COMIC PANEL WAS GOD TIER!!! Macaque is such a terrifying bastard but he does it so well lol Ok! More questions if you’re willing to answer!

How does Wukong react when he finds out Reader has been kidnapped by the Six Eared Macaque? Not only that but how does he also react to the fact that he cannibalized one of his family members and made Reader cry as well? And lastly, when all is said and done does Wukong comfort Reader afterwards?

Sorry if this is too many! Feel free to pick and choose!

Oh man! Listen, I tried to doodle some epic fighting comic for this one but man fighting is not easy to draw. I might someday do a little part 2 of Sophie (aka Reader) and MC JUST before Wukong is going woop his ass bc that monkey will hurt her. But I did draw something for this you!

But for your question, Wukong would go APESHIT FERAL for Macaque! He would go mad if he even touches her in a bad way so imagine when he sees that she is bleeding AND the bastard ate one of his family members. He would make sure to destroy Macaque like there is no tomorrow! The fighting would be FERAL and epic not gonna lie!

After the fighting is over and MC is dead Sophie would have a breakdown. Be in her shoes for a moment: You are YEETED to a random world where you have no experience with demons, fighting, or even having a long long journey. Walking many hours every day. You are completely cut off from your family and friends and you have almost died. (and no internet or wifi to call someone) Not many people understand your feelings because for them this harsh life is normal. She would start to cry hard for stress, sadness, and adrenaline.

Wukong is not good when it comes to showing feelings, but he is not a completely narcissistic asshole! He has his own problems and might not sometimes understand Sophie's feelings and why she is so sensitive but at that moment it hurts him to see her like this. He knows that he's been an asshole to her many times despite her treating him as an equal. So for a long time, he would hold her and comfort her. This would be a part where these two would also become much closer and later there will be a romance between these two.

[polaris-stuff]

Do you have any Dark Sun headcanons?

Hi hi, anon!! ✨

It's currently 3AM where I am, but I'll take advantage of the fact that I'm taking a break from work to respond quickly (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

CW for content of a ship with high toxic content. You have been warned.

I don't really think I have too many HCs for Dark Sun, but I really like playing with his past, especially involving his Moon and the romanticism in cannibalism, hehe.

"Fellas, is it gay to eat your counterpart?" Dark Sun asks after devouring his Moon XD

Well, basically I feel like those two didn't even consider themselves a couple or anything like that, it was more like a toxic and abusive codependency that no matter how you looked at it, you knew it was going to end very badly. But they still stayed there and kept hurting each other because they liked it.

Dark Sun (and really, all Suns) loves to be in control so the ability to not only be able to manipulate his Moon the way he wants, but also break it and put it back together the way he wants, make him tremble and then coo him to calm him down. And GOD, Moon loves that, feeling so delicate and weak, the feeling of slipping into pieces through Sun's own hands, stopping feeling, stopping thinking and then it all comes back at once, and it's a shock of adrenaline that Moon can't never get enough of.

And so Dark Sun kept doing it, until it was no longer satisfying. Doing the same thing over and over again, same reactions, same results; it wasn't fun anymore. So he went further and these pieces he tore off he started eating.

In canon he and Moon have different bodies but I like the idea that they were never separated a little better so Dark Sun basically ate the pieces of Moon's code until make them part of himself. Idk, the romance of eating the person you love to be closer than ever lol

The only reason their codes didn't end up creating an Eclipse was because of Dark Sun's literal willpower to be stronger and in control. So Moon's code was of no use other than his intelligence and knowledge, because the Killcode was destroyed by tearing off the pieces.

Other than that, I don't think I have anything else about his past!!

Oh! I also have the HC that he likes birds more than cats.

And lastly, I have the HC that Dark Sun manipulated not only the situation and conditions to create Nexus, but also used the black matter generator to guide NSP to New Moon and basically poison him little by little. It was when Dark Sun completely ripped the Old Moon chip out of Nexus' head that the accumulated NSP took the chip's place (and consequently, finishing distorting Nexus' mind)

[nuggetgaming]

DRDT CHAPTER 2 EPISODE 13 SPOILERS

First of all, the reveal of everyone’s motive secrets is both exciting but also very sad. Exciting in a way that all of the theories have payed off on the long run, but sad as it confirms that Hu was the hopeless child. This can help explain why she did not want to believe that David was not a ‘good person’, because much like Arei, if he wasn’t what a ‘good person’ was supposed to be, then what hope would she have that she would be.

I also don’t buy Terukos secret, as MonoTV said that they had no idea if these were even the correct matches,

meaning that if one person was to lie about their secret being for someone else * cough cough *David* cough cough * they would be able to get away with their secret safely intact. There is also the fact that (according to my knowledge) the only part about teruko’s family is that she had an older brother (again, I am probably wrong) but who do we know who’s whole family died as a result of something that they did? Xander. Who does David claim is the only good person that he ever knew despite apparently being the reason for the killing game? Xander. This could also explain why David did this face when Teruko ‘revealed’ her secret, as he knows what her secret truly is.

Also, Eden being responsible for Xander losing an eye?!?!? I for one did not expect this. All I want to know is why she did it and why does she look scared? Is it because she just realised what she had just done, or was something happening beforehand which resulted in her doing it and feeling scared in the moment.

Levi being portrayed as someone who lacks empathy is really interesting to me, as it can kinda be shown if past episodes, yet I’m sure people (me included) just chalked it up to regular antisocial behaviour. I was also surprised to find out that not only did he kill one person, but he actually killed four, and he had forgotten about doing so which adds a fun little twist on things. However I have to say that the first thing that came into my head was that Levi was essentially Sweeney Todd (a barber who would kill his clients and would have the baker who works under him turn his victims into meat pies) but without the cannibalism.

And lastly, that cliffhanger.

I am honestly not sure what to think right now, as my brain is currently running on 20% and it being close to 1:30 at night as I write this. But I am now more suspicious of both Nico and Ace, both due to the tape being used during Nico’s murder attempt on Ace, and also a compelling argument that the tape went missing when only Eden, Teruko and Ace were in the room that it was in. This may also be why Ace is positive that it was Nico, either because he is shifting the blame to them, or due to the previous attempt he instinctively believes that or, Ace (somehow) recognised the similarities in what was in the crime scene and his own case.

With that being said, I am now going to go to sleep

[silvyysthings]

Your last anon said Airmail is isn't reputable. It is Before Vanity Fair lost it's touch that website was huge. The guy who was creative director - Graydon Carter left Vanity Fair and created Airmail.

This past year I've seen big reporters reference Air Mail articles. I've seen it mentioned on The View this year which is a mainstream tv show. Besides that article in Air Mail got so much attention so it's not like he didn't get attention for his article. Just like the small podcast he did also got a lot of attention.

This is the theme from fans that I don't get. He denied multiple times the SA allegation which was 1 allegation. How often does he need to talk about it?

Besides each time he does talk about it there is potential to get sued so it's risky. When his friend and former lawyer Kent did a podcast this year he said he had to be careful with his words because a lawsuit could still happen. That's why he was so quiet for years. He knows he is innocent and his accuser is spending time on Twitter wishing assault on children. She's not a credible person so why address someone that unhinged if you already did in multiple statments and a large article?

Armie is the rare celebrity who listens to his lawyer and I wish fans understood how easily it is to get sued even if you are telling the truth. Besides, I think an innocent person doesn't need to constantly say they are innocent.

Lastly the cannibal accusation is what lost him his first few roles. His main accuser did the press conference in March. He lost multiple roles and his agency starting in January and February. That is what people remember. So he addressed in it in the podcast.

And denying something like SA isn't some magic bullet that fixes everything. I need fans to understand that. It's naive to think that way. We are wired to believe the negative about people and that's something he understands and is living with. Perhaps fans need to adjust.

💯💯