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yandere-sins · 2 months ago

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Monstober - Day 5: Naga/Lamia [Elemental Sacrifices Part 1/4]

I am fashionably late and since this story was supposed to come out on my birthday I switched the prompts since we all know Nagas are my roman empire, hehe >:3

Also this is part 1 of 4 of a little mini-series happening in this Monstober Challenge, and I will lovingly call it the Elemental Sacrifices. I know we already had a sacrifice before, but what if—hear me out—we have 4 more? Yes, I thought that was a good idea too, glad we agree :D

(They are not much related aside from the concept, but they are in the same universe, so maybe there's some potential for future ideas! :D)

Prompt: Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous Warnings: Yandere, AFAB!Reader, Sexual Actions (Dub-Con, Use of Aphrodisiac, Drinking said Aphrodisiac and getting it stabbed into your arm, Deep Kissing, Accidentally cutting your own tongue, Fingering), Violence (Biting with fangs, Description of (meager) fighting, Cutting the enemy, Blood mention), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Light self-degradation, Long Post

The tradition had always existed.

From the moment you were born, you were told about the sacrifices made to the four gods, which took place twice a century. The four tribes would unite in peace and unity for this month of reverence, choosing their sacrifices carefully and laying down their weapons to organize and strategize the ceremonies so that no god would feel aggrieved. It was a wonder that people that worshipped different things, lived by different means, and usually clashed like hot and cold, light and shadow, could work together meaningfully to pay their respects, assure that everyone would continue to be in the favor of the different gods that roamed the lands you lived on.

And yet, somehow, it had always worked out.

"There, almost done," your mother mumbled, curling your still-damp hair around her finger so it would frame your face. You clenched your fists in your lap as you sat in front of the mirror, unable to even look at yourself without retching. 20 years ago, when you were told the stories for the first time, no one had assumed you'd be the one to be sacrificed in the next ceremony. No one informed you that your days were numbered, your purpose to be nothing but monster fodder.

Because that's what they were, monsters, nothing more, nothing less.

A two-headed snake, an ancient tree, a tentacled beast, and a fire-spewing reptile with wings—those were the four monsters you and the other tribes worshipped with offerings and sacrifices. All your life, you practiced the mindful handling of the teachings, learning how to hunt, fight, and serve your god. But even so, just because you were born the child of the leader, you were going to be discarded by your own people, and your hatred was as fiery as the vulcanos that surrounded your homeland.

"I heard the water tribe sends their most wonderful singer this year, too."

It was a frail attempt at small talk, and you couldn't care less about how pleased your mother sounded as she told you about the other sacrifices. The other poor souls that probably wanted nothing more than to run away about now. You had hidden your tears very well with your head hung low, but you couldn't imagine the other sacrifices felt any less miserable as you did.

You had plans for the future, plans that involved leading this tribe and creating a family sometime. Maybe participate in a war with the other tribes and show off the prowess of the fire tribe leader's oldest child. It was in the nature of your people to be strong and powerful, as was the exceptional artistry of the water people.

"And the earthclan sends another one of their scholars. I don't understand why they think the nature gods would like all these people hiding with their noses in their books, but I'm sure they have their reason for choosing them. Oh, but the wind people are also sending their ruler's child, just like you!"

A tone of pride swung in her voice as she continued arranging vividly red flowers like a crown in your head, pulling at strands of your hair to wrap them into the stems so they'd hold. "And yet, you'll make the prettiest sacrifice of them all. You'll make us all so proud!"

Inside of you, a war broke loose. A war you knew you couldn't win as you knelt on the floor of your childhood home, the place you always thought safest in all of the lands, yet it was no longer the place you'd return to after this expedition. All your good deeds and all your achievements were for naught because when the announcement was sent out that the sacrifice was going to be held that year, it ended your life instantly.

A part of you knew it could happen. Although you never wished this fate on anyone, you had always hoped for a sibling, born or adopted into your family, that could take this responsibility from you ever since you learned of it. Other tribes voted. They chose by luck or by skill at the time of sacrifice. But not yours. Yours had traditions, which meant the leader's strongest family member would go to the gods and ask for their blessings. Get eaten in exchange for a promise of safety and prosperity that the monsters could easily break on a whim. Returning would mean the blessing failed, so that wasn't an option. If you couldn't appease them alive, you would do it with your death. The ultimate sacrifice.

"Now, you're perfect. Look at you, my pretty child."

Pushing her fingertips into the underside of your jaw, your mother forced you to look up into the mirrors. Tears tumbled from your eyes as your head snapped upwards to avoid the discomfort of her nagging touch, and you watched her expression fall in her reflection. Not from sorrow, mind you, but anger.

"This is your duty," she reminded you. "Now that you have grown up and proved your worth, you should feel honored to be chosen."

You bit your tongue, swallowing the disrespect you wanted to voice. You couldn't care less about the sacrifice, about gaining the ire of some monster that some old people had decided to worship. About your mother's opinion or that of anyone else!

Deep inside you, you were afraid. Fear, first and foremost, had always been your teacher. It showed you the boundaries of your abilities and pushed you to perform deeds beyond your capabilities in times of need. It wasn't something to be ashamed of or scolded for; it was natural and normal.

But right behind it was anger. Anger at this tradition, anger at your family, and anger at the monsters for demanding lives in exchange for peace. Gods they called themselves, but there was nothing godly about how they conducted their demands. They were cowards with a taste for human blood, and instead of fighting and being slain by those humans, they demanded sacrifices to satisfy their hunger.

And there was nothing you could do to save yourself.

If you rebelled, you'd be dragged out by your limbs and hair, even if that destroyed the work they put into prettying you up. Who needed to be pretty when they'd be eaten alive? Still, as a warrior at heart, you couldn't imagine a greater shame than to force your friends to bring you to that dreadful sacrificial space, even if they might think it was for the greater good. If you had to go out, you wanted to do so with your head held high, no matter how foolish that pride of yours was. It was better than to put your unfair death entirely into the hands of others.

If you were going to be a martyr, then you'd at least die fighting until your last breath.

---

"That's far enough," you announced, coming to a halt at the edge of the lush green forest you used to hunt in. Before you, vulcanic stone spread in dark hues as far as you could see. Ash filled the air, mixed with the taste of metal and fire. Nothing grew on the stone ground, it was as welcoming as a death threat. Veins of red broke through the stone, leading to pools of lava that was cooking beneath the stone surface, the air simmering from the heat that immediately greeted you, coating your skin in a sheen of sweat. Once you had found the duality of this place beautiful. Now you dreaded it, hands curled into fists as you took slow, steady breaths to calm yourself.

"I wish to face the gods myself."

"Go forth then. Make us proud," your father expressed, resting his hand on your shoulder. A simple squeeze was all you got, and much like your mother who hugged you before your departure, their gestures were too brief to be any comfort. You wondered how they could have possibly come to terms so quickly with losing their own child when you, the one to be sacrificed, were struggling with your fear and pride.

Every step on the hot floor was like a stab of a knife in your back. The hunting party that had accompanied you watched as you continued your journey towards the sacrificial space the ancestors had created, their gazes like whips that spurred you on. But they didn't linger. Since they didn't have to tie you down on the altar, they had no reason to watch the gruesome death of their own kind, knowing that either way, you weren't going to return. You knew the way back to your village like the inside of your pocket, years of roaming the jungles teaching you how to go home. But they'd kill you before you cursed the village with your failure to be sacrificed. Merciless, cold. You were no longer a part of them. You were a meager part of the tradition now.

However, the way to the altar was actually more of a challenge than going home. You had only been there once as a child, laying flowers down for your uncle, who had been the last sacrifice years before your birth. Your father may have called him your uncle, but it turned out he was an adopted orphan who ended up paying for his dedication to your family much later. Your father seemed unsympathetic towards him, but it dawned on you that he must have never been close to this brother of his, probably knowing the fate that awaited him.

You never knew your uncle, but back then, you had been proud of him, too.

That day was also the first time your father explained the traditions and the importance of keeping them up. How much honor it brought to your family and how many lives it saved to lose one person. You wondered why, after he taught you so many skills, worked so hard to make you a respected member of your tribe, and loved you like a father would, he could so easily send you to your death. But it slowly dawned on you what kind of person your father was. One that didn't truly cared for his "family", only for his own pride and gains. And you had been so easily fooled as to believe him all this time.

It took you much longer than you remembered, but eventually, you reached the grounds your ancestors had created for this spectacle. It was close to the foot of the volcano, an altar erected from the stone sprouting from the ground with nothing else present in this wasteland. The heat had increased substantially over time, every breath burning in your lungs, your eyes dry, and your feet chafed from walking over the smoldering stone for so long. Dread was no longer a constant companion as acceptance slowly crept into your mind. You had seen the bones of many humans on the way to this place. Apparently, not everyone had been so lucky to have made it this far, either the environment or the monster killing them before they reached the altar. Or maybe themselves, now that you thought about it.

The sight of the raised altar forced a shuddering breath out of your lungs, the stinging sensation barely enough to distract you from the blaring truth. You were going to die. One way or another, you would. Touching the side of your leg, you felt the leather holster beneath your dress. The dagger you sneaked would probably not be enough to kill the monster, if there ever was one. Still, if you could inflict some damage to it, perhaps your tribe would one day snap out of the trance that it was this immortal threat that your ancestors appeased by offering their own children to it. Maybe they'd see the wounds and realize they didn't have to cower in fear of it, and thus, maybe your sacrifice would not be in vain.

Brushing your hand over the warm stone, you felt an untypical cold shudder run down your spine, knowing it was meant to be your deathbed. You wondered how many before you had laid here, waiting for the monster to come. How many had prayed, hoped, and begged to be saved, and how many had fought and struggled like you were going to. Following in their footsteps now, you knew they did what they thought was their best. That was the greatest honor you could bestow on them.

You hoisted yourself up, struggling to climb on top of the massive stone slab, before you sat close to the edge and stretched out your legs, feeling the burned and chafed soles of your feet crack as they finally got some rest. Hissing, you were confronted with the pain, yet you only sighed, swiping your hands over your face to free you of the sweat that was desperately trying to cool you down. Even if you were used to the warmer temperature of your home, it was nothing against the volcanic heat, and you almost admired it for burning for so long, never bothered by anyone. The air was as heavy as your soul felt, trapped in your body and scared to the heavens.

Imagining the snake did very little to soothe your mind, but you still tried to prepare for the shock its sight undoubtedly would be. You imagined a snake as tall as a building, with two heads splitting apart at one end. Heads with sharp fangs and venom dripping out of their mouths, eyes that ate you up before their maw even got close to you. It would slither over the ground, nimble, avoiding the lava pools, but too large to hide behind the wasteland it reigned over. Bloodlust urging it on as it smelled the sweet fragrance of the flowers on your head, which were delighted to bloom in the warm temperatures. A green tail? Brown? Perhaps a little of both? Maybe its scales were dark red like all the blood it drank from the sacrifices.

"Look at that, they do sacrifice their own kind."

Deep in thought, the heat probably having gone to your head, you hadn't noticed the chafing sound that slithered closer from behind. Only when someone suddenly spoke did your mind alert you of the danger, and you jumped down from the altar, swiftly spinning around and bracing yourself. One hand hovered over your dagger beneath your dress, and the other arm stayed defensively in front of you. With the distance you managed to jump and the massive altar separating you from the monster, you were at a surprising advantage, and it felt good to have the upper hand.

Your eyes widened at the sight of two men standing behind the altar, one of them leaning down on the stone surface right next to where you had sat. In contrast, the other stood straight with his arms behind his back, but both watched you with burning intensity. Immediately, you noticed their similar appearances, the light grey hair falling from their heads, bound by braids, and still with countless strands falling over their exposed chests. Their eyes were like marbles, reflecting the different colors of the area in them, elongated pupils slightly vibrating as they fixated over and over on you. But what really put you off was their size. Their legs must have been easily as tall as the altar, and that was no size a normal human should have had.

"Mother never told us sacrifices were this cute."

The man leaning on the table rolled over on his side, his hair splaying all over the altar in waves. And yet, even while moving, his gaze never trailed off—but yours did. You let out a horrified gasp as the scaled tail of a snake buckled and arched to accommodate the man's movements, and with a surprised jolt, he reared upwards, exposing even more of the tail that started at his hips.

A moment of silence washed over you three, and you felt incredibly exposed and stared down by two pairs of eyes as if they were pinning you into place. Willing you to not move a muscle, to be eaten without putting up a fight. No one said anything before the startled man laughed out loudly, shaking his head and holding his belly before slapping his free hand attention-seekingly against his companion's arm.

"That scared me," he chuckled. "I've never heard that kind of sound before."

The other man let out a hum of agreement, nodding his head before looking back at you. You were at a clear disadvantage, unsure where to look first and who to focus on, as you were outnumbered by the two. The one that kept talking was smaller than the other, although this could have been the heat playing tricks on you. Both were muscular, but he was less refined than his almost-twin. You wagered you could take him on if there wasn't a scaley tail winding from his hips. That would be additional weight you couldn't topple, no matter how much you playfighted the other hunters and warriors of your tribe, which sometimes outdid you in terms of weight and size.

The quieter one, on the other hand, had the typical looks of a working man in the village: big arms coming from a strong back and toned muscles that the woman would drool over, while the other seemed fit and nimble. But your eyes unwillingly focused on the tail as the two scaled the altar, moving forward oddly in sync until it became clear why.

Their two strands of tails flowed together between them into one massive one.

It was mesmerizing, you had to admit, the scales an iridescent white. But whenever the tail moved, it took on the hues of the land, grey and red, only to return to their original color as it wound itself. You were awestruck and panicked at the same time, as the tail seemed to be neverending, wrapping around the altar, finding hold on the stony ground that even your feet struggled with. Fear filled you as you watched their slithering movements, the mistake in your thinking now glaringly clear: The monster existed, and it had come for you.

"Y-You're the monster!" you screamed, and the smaller one of the two scrunched up his nose, taking offense. The white scales swept over the altar, landing in the space between you and the stone with a heavy thud. His body was barely shaken by the impact, so perfectly in balance with itself despite their unnatural split into two different entities, and the seriousness of the situation rained down on you like their sharp gazes as you realized there would be no chance of you overpowering either of them.

Even with their connection, they spread out too far to reach both simultaneously. They could still move independently, even if their range was limited to what their body could give. But even without them rearing up on the tail, they were almost two heads taller than you were. They knew their body better than anyone, and you didn't doubt they had some tricks up their non-existing sleeves to best you.

Biting your lip, you finally slipped your hand beneath your dress, never letting the monster—monsters—out of your sight. To your surprise, you watched their gazes slip to where you raised the fabric, observing you with curious intention, their split tongues slipping out from their lips, tasting the air as they ogled at your exposed thigh.

Your hand curled around the grip of your dagger, and the moment you pulled it from its holster, the snakes lept forward. There was no time to be proud of yourself, but your reaction was immaculate. You jumped back just in time to avert the nimble one's grabby hands, even drawing blood as your blade slit open the skin between his thumb and pointer finger.

However, as fast as you dealt with one of the snakes, you couldn't recover quickly enough to avoid the second pair of hands. Much like you anticipated, their range was too extensive to fight both of them at once, and although you ducked beneath one hand of the stronger monster, his second hand latched on, right in your hair. You watched as the red petals of the flower crown loosened and swayed in the air like a sad veil of defeat.

Your head was yanked back, and you acted quickly, directing the knife towards the unprotected free shoulder, somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would leave a visible scar and show everyone that these monsters could be injured. But a bloody grip around your wrist prevented you from pushing the dagger into the creature's partially scaled bodies, your hopes crumbling into ash.

"You good?" the more muscular man asked, and the other clicked his tongue in annoyance while you flailed and struggled in their grip. Your free hand was useless as you couldn't even reach forward enough, and so were your legs as you stood on your tiptoes while they yanked you around.

The latter lifted the hand that was holding your wrist to his mouth, licking up the blood that spilled from the cut on his as he maintained eye contact. You bared your teeth in both pain and defiance, not showing any of the miserable fear and panic you felt inside. You didn't manage to do what you came here for, and you felt the power surging through their bodies just from their hands on you. The failure gnawed at your determination, the fight as good as lost.

"We're not monsters," he hissed, glowering at you, although it looked more like a pout. "But you sure are quick on your feet."

Their comments should not have caused your heart to swell with pride, but hearing it from the monster you swore to hurt in exchange for your life did feel good.

"Surely you wish you'd have gotten an easier meal, monster! But I won't go down until I have shown everyone that you can be wounded and defeated! That you will bleed if the people unite! There will be no more sacrifices once they've seen what I did to you!"

"We're not monsters!" they repeated in unison before exchanging a brief glance with each other.

"Well, I won't call you god and beg for your mercy!" you spat, and the lips of the snake with your hand in his grip curled into a grin.

"Are you sure about that?"

With his blood coating your hand, he raised it way over your head, causing you to gasp as your whole body strained to accommodate the movement. His hand slipped upwards, a few fingers holding you in place, while some snaked between your palm and the knife in your grasp, prying your hold from it inch by inch. You let out a soft whine as the leather grip was torn from you and watched the metal clatter to the ground.

But you didn't have the time to mourn the loss of your only weapon, not when your arm was bent backward. Immediately, your free hand shot up, trying to dig your nails into the fingers wrapped around your wrist still.

That was your greatest mistake. With his free hand, the quiet monster immediately reached for both of yours, wrapping them in his palm as quickly as their tail could around your body.

You were kept on your tiptoes as you felt the scales of said tail slither over your skin. Creeping beneath your soles and running up your ankles, squeezing the flesh of your shins firmly together before wrapping around each thigh individually. You kicked and squirmed, but their tail was almost as unrelenting as their hands, and you involuntarily winced as your wrists were squeezed together as if tied by a rope.

"It's true we are not the monster you're trying to defeat," the leaner one claimed again, licking his wound like an injured animal.

"That's our mother," his brother explained curtly, and your head whirled around to him, the questions etched into your face.

"Look at us; we're only half the snake she is."

With an exasperated huff, you looked back and forth between the two, reeling at the revelation. "That's not possible! You... you are a snake with two heads. It's exactly as it's told in our stories!"

"They're not wrong..."

"I mean, she is a literal snake with two heads. And she's gigantic. You should be glad she didn't find you first, or you'd be even less than a small snack for her."

"And our dad is human. Like you."

You must have looked rightfully befuddled as the two went back and forth on their explanation, but once they were done, you could only gulp, unsure what to make of the situation. "So... you're not the monster that demands sacrifices?"

"No."

"Not really."

"Then..." It was hard to form the words that zapped through your mind, your mouth suddenly feeling dry again as the adrenaline sifted from your blood flow. Nothing could rationalize this situation, and you were still strung up by their hands and tail. This almost felt too good to be true, so you had to take your chance as long as you could. "You'll let me go?"

A moment of silence hung over all three of your heads before the brothers slowly ripped their gazes off you to exchange sly smirks. You wobbled as their body—and by extension, yours—set into motion, slithering back to the altar until you were sat down, your back forced to rest on the stone like a lamb to slaughter, hands hanging over the edge above your head and legs still wrapped by their tail.

"Oh, you can't just leave," the lean one purred, coming up from below you and planting his clawed hands firmly on either side of your arms. "The nights get so cold, and the days are so lonely with our mom busy occupying our dad. She never lets us play with him or come back to our home. Won't you keep us company for a while longer? I'm sure you can teach us some things, and we can teach you."

The other settled on the opposite side, still holding your hands in place as he grunted in agreement. You felt the bile rise in your throat as one touch slipped below your line of sight, claw-like nails raking up your thigh and moving beneath your dress. Their intentions got more apparent as the fabric was gripped from above, too, slowly, sensually raising over your skin until the hip strap of your underwear was revealed.

In a last-ditch effort, you tried to struggle once more, legs tugging upwards and kicking at the ever-winding tail while your hands twisted in their hold, causing it to crush down onto your bones even more. That wasn't how you wanted to go down; it wasn't the fight to death you thought you'd have!

"End me, then. Get it over with," you yelled out, laying your head to the side and closing your eyes, the reality too hard to face. Sooner or later, you'd die anyway, and if this were the things you'd have to endure, you'd rather be dead. It wasn't the kind of sacrifice you wanted to be, one defiled and molested before you'd be killed, so you'd rather be dead than witness it.

"Hush now," someone murmured, and you felt a hand sweep underneath your chin, turning your head forward again before tugging it up and over the altar's edge. Your eyes snapped open as your instincts kicked in, but as you opened your mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by another.

A tongue slipped between your opened lips before you could close them, slashing around inside harshly and clogging your throat. There was too much to take, and you gulped down the wetness it brought, sloshing it everywhere to the point it dripped from your lips, running down your face that immediately heated up beneath the fluid. It tasted sweet and even when you wanted to stop, you couldn't, gulping down all that was given to you.

Your body began to relax while you felt a hand drive down the front of your torso, brushing an entire palm over your breast and getting stuck on your nipple. You jolted, a pang of electricity flying to your head and down your spine, your back arching as you couldn't understand what was going on anymore. You had never felt this sensitive before, and as the hand continued to roam from one side to the other, finding the budding nip beneath your dress and twisting it, you let out an unholy moan into the mouth of the monster, your own tongue lashing upwards until it got caught on a sharp fang. Despite not feeling it, you were pretty sure your tongue was ripped open, but even more of the sweet-tasting, addictive stuff dripped from the fang, gushing into your mouth. You gobbled it up, considering you had nothing to drink throughout your journey, and your mind was not getting enough of the taste.

"Considering how quickly you got hooked on our mating fluids, I'd not be surprised if you do end up calling us gods when we're done with you."

You barely heard the voice of the curious onlooker beyond your line of sight, your mind wholly crazed by the liquid that coated all of your mouth and senses. It took almost more work to extract the monster's tongue from your throat than it had putting it inside. Your head followed it upwards, unwilling to part while the drool kept dripping down onto your face.

As you were freed of the kiss, a shameful, miserable sigh of disappointment escaped you, and you barely regained the ability to reply, "Never," in response to what the snake had said. That caused both of them to chuckle, and the sound sent a core-clenching, spine-tingling warmth throughout your body. Your lips quivering as your mind begged for more of that deep rumble cursing through their bodies.

"We'll see about that," the monster from below mumbled as he raked his claws over your thigh. Immediately, you were jolting upwards in their hold, caught between pain and pleasure as he lightly scabbed your skin. It was a small revenge for his own wound, and the scratches burned deliciously as they welcomed the hot air all around you two. "You're already so wet for us."

"It's called sweat," you mewled defiantly, the sound of your voice not befitting your sarcasm. You clenched your legs together, but it was a vain effort with the tail still stuck above your knees, easily prying them open by driving upwards. The scales rubbing over your skin didn't help your misery at all, and you wanted to throw your head against a solid wall with how dizzy and needy you felt. It wasn't you on that altar, but a very distorted version of you, one that wanted to be fucked silly even though what you really wanted was a good fight.

The two laughed at your comment, and you moaned in annoyance at the electricity that sapped through you at the sound of their voices. Your head fell back over the edge, and you came face to face with the more muscular one of the brothers as he lowered himself to your eye level. His eyes raked over your face, then up to your exposed neck just waiting to be bit.

"You're so cute," he mumbled, split tongue darting out again, tasting the air. Your pussy clenched as you wished for that tongue back in your throat or, even better, caressing your quivering folds below that were begging for something to fill their loneliness. The experience was new to you, as you had never wanted intimacy like this with anyone before. You had been so focused on your goals and diligently upholding your parents' rules and traditions that you never craved anyone, but especially not these two beasts.

"I'm not cute," you mewled, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you felt the sharp claws hover above your abdomen, gently stroking the skin below your navel from side to side, your core clenching even harder with pure, undiluted desire. But when the fingers slipped beneath the rim of your underwear, you moaned as you expected them to dip into the wet mess that lay just beneath, the expectation almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Oh, yeah?" the snake-man grinned, and you felt one finger press into your slit, your folds welcoming it warmly and with a shudder going through your body. You quaked in pleasure, eyes blown wide open, and the two fangs of the monster were all more prevalent as his lips split into a toothy smile. "So cute," he doubled down, pulling your arms taut until your body stretched to the last of its capabilities.

With his lips gently brushing against your forearm, you were wholly unprepared for the sharp pain as he dug his fangs deep into your skin. But the shriek quickly turned into a moan, your hips grinding against the finger probing at your entrance as more of the aphrodisiac went straight into your bloodstream. You watched the dark fluid drip off your arm, causing even more heat to spread where it flowed, and you were mercilessly whining as you couldn't move your hips nearly enough to satisfy your needs.

"Please," you snapped upwards, staring at the creature settled on top of the altar next to you, leisurely rubbing his hand along your pussy.

"There goes the begging," he reminded you, and you bit your lip to the point of hurting yourself.

Fuck, that wasn't what you wanted to say. It wasn't how you wanted to die, you never intended to let it get this far. Pathetic, pathetic, absolutely pathetic. You were a fucking warrior, you fought threats and hunted prey, you were not going to surrender to them—

"Fuck!" you gasped out loud this time as one digit slipped inside you. You felt it hook inside your pussy, slowly dragging out despite being clung to firmly by your insides. All the faster did he push it inside again, every joint that buried inside you made you arch your back and rejoice. You nearly avoided being scratched open inside, purely by how slick your pussy and his hand were by now, more fluids gushing out as he pulled his finger from you again and again.

Simultaneously, another digit curled down, fondling the heated folds until it pressed down on your clit, forcing a mewl from you. Fangs tore out of your skin, but you barely noticed as the two fingers united, taking up more space inside of you and scissoring your walls apart until you felt your pussy gaping and drooling obscenely.

"I'll not... submit," you stammered between bated breaths. "I'll not... be your plaything."

"And we wouldn't want it any other way," they chimed in unison, exchanging a satisfied glance before grinning.

"Mom always said to look out for the feisty ones."

"We just didn't think you'd come to meet us so soon."

"Or that you'd be this fun to play with."

Your whole body shuddered as both fingers were pulled out of your terribly needy hole. Your breath was almost non-existent, the lack of air only stimulating you more as you heard the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy letting go of the monster's fingers. A hand slipped beneath your head, helping you to hold it up as you watched the leaner brother lifting his pointer and middle finger to his face, split tongue lapping out to taste your slick pulling strings in the gaps while maintaining eye contact with you all throughout it.

"They're perfect," he purred as he looked up, stretching his arm towards his brother, who leaned forward to have his taste of you from his brother's fingers.

"Damn, that's sweet," he commented too on your fluids, licking them from his lips as he looked down at you in a mix of surprise and awe.

"And so pretty, too."

You felt their eyes in the same way their claws had raked over your body. Hungrily, with the intention to harm you. And yet, your hole kept gaping, needing more stimulation, wanting more. You were the pitiful prey you kept denying you were, but it seemed that in their eyes, you were so much more than that.

"Our little fighter," the one at your side murmured, stretching upwards to hover beside your face.

"Are you not even finishing what you started?" you spit, your venom not nearly as effective when your voice sounded as if you were drugged and disgruntled.

"Oh, I will, little fighter. We're going to make sure you can take us before spreading you on our cocks and make you cry out in pleasure until you call us "god". But before that, you have to be good and let us take you to our nest. Bonding will take so much time, and you are much too vulnerable out here."

"Fuck you," you grunted, trying to elbow him, but your arm barely moved.

"Keep it up," he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to give up too easily. Breaking you in is part of the fun."

"You're a fucking monster after all."

The snakes hummed thoughtfully as you were finally pulled off the table. Instead of being dragged by your arms or wrapped in their tail, however, you were slung over the bigger brother's shoulder, feeling his hand immediately settle beneath your asscheek, not so subtly poking at your pussy with his claw.

"Let me go!" you demanded weakly, your sore hands pounding pitifully into his shoulder.

"And miss out on all this fun? I don't think so," the leaner brother answered.

"Mother told us you can't go back anyway," the one carrying you added, throwing salt into the wound. They were right, but that didn't mean you'd go down so easily, even if your legs were still quivering and your head throbbing with need. "They'll kill you on sight, won't they? And then they'll return you to the altar so we can eat you."

A hand clasped around your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks as your head was lifted to face the leaner brother. "You know we prefer a different taste," he grinned, and you felt your anger rise again together with the shame of his implication. Collecting your saliva and some of the residues of the aphrodisiac, you spit them into his face, not caring whatsoever what that meant for you.

The snake-man scrunched up his face, quickly wiping it away. "Save your drool," he snarled, and you grinned victoriously despite the clasp he held your face in.

But as if on cue, a large palm flattened against your ass, and you jolted forward on the shoulder, eyes blown wide open as you gasped. You couldn't believe it as the wave of pleasure finally crashed into your rockfest resolution, your toes curling upwards and your eyes rolled back, your orgasm hitting you harder than even the slap had.

"Oh, god," you whispered breathlessly while riding the high of pleasure and shame as you felt your juices leaking even through your panties, dripping and running down the body of the other stronger brother.

"Seems like you finally get it, sacrifice," the guy in front of you noted, brushing his thumb over your lips, which opened automatically to his beckoning.

"Let's go, brother," he urged. "Seems our little fighter needs just a bit more convincing as to why they'll love being ours. I can't wait to make their belly swell with our clutch, just like Mother has always told us."

"We're lucky we found a mate so quickly," the other agreed, and you let out a defeated huff, no more words to counter them with coming to your dazed thoughts.

Their tail set into motion, scales slithering over stone, while your mind drifted off, the aphrodisiac having too much of a hold on your conscience for you to be rid of it quickly. You were going to be taken by the monsters, and if you thought you were helpless before, your body now barely felt like it belonged to you. It was as if you weren't its master anymore, but that drug and those snakes were. You could only shiver, even though the air was getting hotter the closer you three got to the volcano, wondering if you at least fulfilled your duty as a sacrifice.

And when that duty would finally end.

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nevieatiny · 11 months ago

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Mrs. Park?

Seonghwa x reader

Summary: Maybe there were different ways to help your boyfriend get a refund, but calling him your "husband" made it sound more dramatic, right?

Word count: 1,449

Genre: Pure fluff

You loved your boyfriend more than anything in the world, you really did, however, something that you hated and you mean HATED about him was that sometimes he was way too nice and struggled to speak up for himself.

You've been doing a lot of christmas shopping recently, and because of that he choose the wrong size when he picked a sweater for his mom, he made you promise you would not intervine this time because he was a "grown man who's able to do a refund by himself" so you did try to look around the store in the mean time, however not even the toy section was able to distract you from that feeling of something going wrong or someone being rude to your boyfriend.

you've worked in customer service for several years, you knew all it took was being nice, but at the same time there was people who just hated being there and would mistreat customers just to make them leave, it was ok if someone did that to you, you knew how to defend yourself and speak up, but some people don't.

So after 15 minutes of your boyfriend not coming back you're heading to see how he's doing at the customer service counter, as you approached the only thing you saw was your poor boyfriend tapping his fingers anxiously against the counter, he was all by himself you assumed he was waiting for the customer service rep.

"Before you shush me away" you said as you were approaching him "i just want to see how you're doing so far, i see that no one's here, so i'm guessing great" you patted his but few times before leaning on him, you were waiting for a lame comeback, but all he did was to lean his head on top of yours and let out a long sigh "how do you do this?" "was it that bad?" that's when he took his phone out looking at the time "she's been gone for more than 10 minutes", you didn't knew how to feel, at first you felt bad for him, he seemed almost sad about it, but after that it was pure rage, why would they do that, you get that christmas and new year could be the toughest time of the year for anyone on customer service, it was 11 am but the place was literally empty.

"Do you want me to take over?" you asked while running your fingers through his hair "i really thought i could do this by myself this time" "yeah but to be fair you choose to do this before christmas, everyone is miserable by now and they just want to go home, most likely they would have to work during christmas, that's not an excuse tho" as you were talking to him you saw a young girl approaching, she might not even be 20, she had a frown on her face and rolled her eyes when she saw you, and at that moment you knew what you were dealing with.

"theres nothing we can you because you bought this 2 weeks ago" she threw the sweater and the receipt on the counter not even looking at you, and before your boyfriend took the clothing piece (most likely as a defeat to just leave right after) you spoke "that literally does not make any sense, when we bought that they said we had a month to get a refund if we keep the receipt" she looked at you for a few seconds before trying to respond before you cut her off "you made my husband wait for 10 minutes just to come up with a stupid excuse to make him leave" Seonghwa looked at you with a surprised expression, he knew what you were doing, but that didn't stopped his heart from beating faster and faster, he took a deep breath to calm himself while he pretended to straighten his clothes with his hands, for a moment he looked down at your hand and he thought about grabbing it, but then he remembered you were kinda busy trying to do what he was not able to.

Maybe you were raising your voice too much because a few seconds later an older man dressed in a expensive suit joined her behind the counter "'I'm sorry ma'am, how can i help you today?" this time your boyfriend spoke behind you, giving him the garment "i'm just trying to get a refund, i choose the wrong size" you knew Seonghwa usually avoided conflicts, but the fact that she let him just waiting like a fool standing there just fueled you anger "My husband kindly came here asking for a refund and your employee left him here waiting for 10 minutes, she went i don't know were and came back with a lame excuse to make him leave, this is unacceptable, do you let your employees treat people like that?, what if he was an elder who had no idea what to do just trying to get a gift for his loved ones?" that's when you felt Seonghwa's hand on your waist gently bringing you closer to him "I'm so sorry to hear that ma'am, and i do apologize for the inconvenience" at this point the girl was standing beside him with her arms crossed "maybe she meant to say that we can give you a refund or you can choose the right size of the same sweater you choose before" he just looked back at the girl with a forced smile, hoping she would not make the situation worst, when she didn't respond you just looked back at him "don't worry, you don't have to apologize, but it's up to my husband" the man behind you passed the last 5 minutes daydreaming, he already had a venue in mind, he was thinking whether the cake should be a classic white cake or maybe he would ask you to let him have a Star Wars themed cake, after that you could go to New Zealand as you've always planned for your honeymoon, or maybe Paris?, no, you've always wanted to go to New Zealand, and since he is for sure insisting on the Star Wars themed wedding that's the least he can do for you, or maybe a lego cake? that would be new, his friends would definitely envy him for that.

"Babe" That's when he realized the three of you were looking at him so you had to repeat the question for him "i think we can pick the right size this time" "of course Sir, that's a great idea, we can wrap it as gift for you as well" the older man looked at the girl this time and asked her to go and get the sweater for you, he didn't had to but when she rolled her eyes you decided she could use a few extra steps "Can you show me your ID to process it on the system please Sir?" your boyfriend seemed off, in the clumsiest way possible he took out his wallet to show his id.

After just a few minutes the employee gave you the gift wrapped up and ready along with your receipt "Again i'm so sorry for the inconvenience Mr. and Mrs. Park, and happy holidays" your boyfriend took the gift and quietly bowed at them before wishing them happy holidays as well, at this point the "Husband" thing was long forgotten to you, but as the two of you walked out of the store you saw your boyfriend looking at the gift as if it was the most interesting thing in the world "you ok?" there were a few seconds of silence before he spoke " I've always feared that you would beat me up to ask you to marry me, but i never thought you would do it in a department store" that's when it hit you, you didn't even asked him if it was ok "i'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable, i just thought it sounded more serious, i think i got carried away" "it's okay, you look hot when you're mad" even after developing the ability of have a verbal fight without crying and thinking that you were in control of your emotions this man never failed to make you a blushing mess with the most simple things "aawww, are you blushing right now Mrs Park?" you looked at him clearly not knowing how to react, smiling and frowning at the same time, this action only made Seonghwa kiss you in the middle of the hallway "keep teasing me and next time you would have to call the pizza restaurant yourself"

#ateez angst #ateez au #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa imagines

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liveontelevision · 3 months ago

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Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader

As promised, here she is -

It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!

CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder

♡♡♡

Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.

Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.

It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.

But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.

It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.

Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.

You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.

A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.

Meat.

It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.

As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.

You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.

Poor thing.

Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.

You invited him over.

As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.

"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.

Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?

Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.

"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"

One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.

The inexperience helps.

You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.

You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.

Disgusting.

Pig.

He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.

Strong.

Muscular.

You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.

You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.

You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -

"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.

Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.

You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -

You're shaking.

You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.

You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?

… You'll have to work on that.

You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.

Now.

Do it now.

You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.

You have to do it now.

You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.

You shut your eyes.

The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.

A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.

"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.

The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.

Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.

You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.

You hid weapons everywhere.

A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.

With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.

You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.

You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.

In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.

"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"

A voice?

It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.

"W-Who-"

"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.

"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"

How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.

You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.

"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.

He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.

You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.

Right.. make-up from the date.

You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.

Smooth.

Maybe even softer than you remember previously.

Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.

Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.

Not anymore.

You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.

Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.

That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -

You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.

"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.

"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.

"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"

...

You're too tired for this.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.

You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.

That seems to wake you up.

Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.

"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.

"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.

"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.

"He attacked me, actually."

"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"

With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.

"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.

In your head.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.

"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.

“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.

All of you.

Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.

“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.

“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.

“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”

Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.

Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.

“I would be absolutely delighted.”

“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”

You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.

He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.

You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.

“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”

All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.

“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.

The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.

By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.

“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.

“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.

“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”

“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.

“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.

“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.

“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”

“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”

You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.

“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.

“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”

Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -

“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”

“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”

An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.

At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.

“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.

Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.

“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”

And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.

When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.

That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.

And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.

He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.

One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.

“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.

“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.

“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.

His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.

“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”

In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.

“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.

“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.

Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.

“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.

With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?

“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”

“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.

“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.

You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.

You loved it.

You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.

Wait, did he say Hell?

“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.

“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.

You.

I can live this way because of you.

He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?

Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-

Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.

But, could it be something to look forward to?

Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.

There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?

You didn't see him for awhile after that.

Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.

This is purely transactional.

Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.

It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.

You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.

There was no warning.

There was supposed to be a warning.

The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.

Your date took no time. No hesitation.

The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.

It seems so quiet.

And it's awful.

Where was the warning?

If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.

With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.

By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.

“You must be new~”

“You’re very handsome!”

“How did you die?”

A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.

“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”

Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.

Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.

It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.

You died.

You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-

“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.

“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”

A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.

Lucky you.

She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.

You really are in Hell.

Right where you belong.

Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.

You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.

What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!

“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.

“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”

“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.

Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.

As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.

You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.

After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.

“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.

“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.

“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.

“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.

“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”

She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.

“It’s a deal, darling!”

You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.

You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.

You had a family.

Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.

Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.

In Cannibal Town.

In Hell.

It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.

On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.

The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.

It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.

“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”

“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Alastor.

He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?

It’s absurd.

He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.

You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.

Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.

An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.

He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.

He catches your eyes.

The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.

And stops singing.

Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.

Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.

Oh, he’s nervous.

You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.

Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.

“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.

You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.

Almost.

But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.

Just a little.

Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.

“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”

“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.

How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?

“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-

“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”

“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.

“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.

But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.

The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.

“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”

He can not be serious.

You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.

“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.

“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.

“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.

A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.

He's nervous, again.

“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.

“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”

“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”

“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.

He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.

“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.

Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.

“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.

His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.

Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.

♡♡♡

“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”

I love when Alastor fucks up and found out

THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE

Tag list:

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin fics

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r3starttt · 10 months ago

Text

STREAMER e! x TATTOO ARTIST r!

Check this as well and share as much information as possible about Palestine :)

streamer! Ellie who wanted to get a second tattoo and talked about it on stream (bad idea) just to know people’s experiences and to get recommendations for where to go get it.

streamer! Ellie who almost exposed her ex girlfriend by sharing the story of her first tattoo (some people ended up searching and finding her on social media but none of them said anything about it so everyone moved on)

streamer! Ellie who designed her tattoo and then asked her followers to help her choose what else she should do and where (for the first time most people acted seriously and helped her choose the nicest option)

She was wearing glasses, reflecting the stream chat as she got closer to the screen. She’s been half stream reading all comments and blocking basically everyone that didn’t take this whole situation seriously “y’all I suck at making decisions and I can’t go and get my whole body tattooed y’ know?”

streamer! Ellie who searched on all her followers suggestions and chose you just because you were already following her and you were hot duhh

streamer! Ellie who revealed the studio she’d chosen and took the chance to do some promotion to your studio and social media.

“Guys stop it, it’s not because she’s hot- I mean she probably is I didn’t check but” she gave up, moving her legs to rest on top of the chair and placing her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and holding her vape as if it could fall at any moment “I’m not gonna fight with you guys… y’all are so annoying”

streamer! Ellie who wanted to get tattooed on live but took her time to ask after making the appointment. She had a plan b ofc

streamer! Ellie who apologized for the comments you were getting on live and couldn’t help but end obsessed with you because you were all cool with it and even started to interact with her followers too.

“They’re saying you chose this place because of me” a small chuckle escaped your lips, shifting your eyes from the screen on Ellie’s phone to her very notorious ashamed face “Nah they’re just annoying, not that you’re not hot or anything just…” “don’t explain then, it’s fine”

streamer! Ellie who was silently crying as she hold her phone as far as possible, trying to hide her pain from both you and the people watching the stream

“If you need to stop just tell me, it’s alright” you could see some laughing emotes in the screen from the corner on your eye, assuming people were making fun of her. You apologized in a whisper, trying not to laugh at her too “How was the other tattoo? that area is more painful” it was definitely a lie, but she was hot and on live and you needed to cover the small mistake you’ve just made by exposing her crybaby ass.

streamer! Ellie who shared the meaning behind the tattoo and got you and everyone watching the stream fangirling because she’s so smart and hot and sweet and the way she explained it and her process and just everything she said was just so so perfect of her.

streamer! Ellie who failed on making eye contact with you but took the small chance she got while she explained the tattoo thing to look as you for some seconds (she had that sheepishly smile ughhh)

streamer! Ellie who kept on asking you the whole session about your story with the tattoos and the studio and just everything about you.

streamer! Ellie who after the session and stream ended really tried to invite you out someday but couldn’t so only tried complimented you and promised you she’ll come back soon because she loved the whole experience with you (she really did)

#streamer els ⋆.𓆡 ༘˚｡#ellie x reader #ellie wiliams #ellie fanfic #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ren masterlist ᵎᵎ ִ ۫ ּ ⊹

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a-spes · 2 months ago

Note

idea for a wanda x y/n snippet

y/n is an up and coming artist and all her music is very sapphic and very sexually explicit (think young miko lol) so all of her fans and all the media assumes that she's like this super confident player but really she's the opposite (super shy and gets flustered very easily and totally a golden retriever gf) she and wanda are newly dating and they do livestreams and stuff to promote y/n's new release and wanda constantly teases her for how soft and sweet she actually is and she gets all flustered on the livestream and all her fans go feral over how cute they are

like imagine them being on the livestream and wanda dares y/n to read her lyrics out loud to her while maintaining eye contact and she just can't cuz of the gay panic 👀 just a flustered stuttering mess

You have no idea how much I love this. It litteraly became an obsession, and I can't think about anything else 😩

I imagine everyone thinking it would be the other way around because Wanda seems to be the golden retriever of the duo, but in reality it is the opposite. Also, I feel like she would be so mean about it, and enjoy how easily you can get flustered 🫠

I really hope that you will enjoy the snippet. 1.460 words — no warnings, just wlw fluff 🙆‍♀️

The person you are on stage has nothing in common with the one you are behind the curtains. One is confident, bold, and loud, while the other is none of that. It is exactly why you choose a nickname, so you could be someone else when you are performing, someone that is free from all the labels that society has tried to stick on them.

You have never felt as free as when you are blinded by the lights, unable to see the faces of the people who are cheering for you because, when you are up there and that the world doesn't exist anymore, it is easy to pretend to be anyone you want to be. But the truth is that the glitters, and the overconfidence that you show during your concerts, are only small parts of the person you truly are, and everything disapears as soon as the lights go out.

You really like the act, and the person you are when you are performing, but it doesn't mean that the whole thing is not exhausting to keep up with. So, when you eventually get down the stage, you are relieved to eventually be able to put a hoodie to cover yourself. It is comfortable, and much more like the person you truly are — soft. That is something most of the people do not see, because you refuse to show them.

From the backstage you can still hear the thousands of people that are screaming your name, but that is not what is on your mind right now because she occupies all your thoughts. You may be smiling at the people who are calling out for you, but you are not really there. Right now, there is only voice you want to hear, one hand you want to shake, and it is hers.

You look frantically for the brunette, and there are no words to describe how relieved you are when your eyes eventually land on the woman. She is in the back of the room, leaning against the walls. She is looking at you too, and the second your gazes meet, it is like the rest of the world fade away. You are not listening to the others anymore, their voices are muffled by the sudden urge of being in her arms. You immediately push them away, excusing yourself, just so you can join the woman.

Her eyes never left her sweet girl and, when she realizes that you have eventually spotted her, a wide smile spreads on her lips. You do not need to talk for the woman to know what you want, and she opens her arms to you so you can lean in her embrace. Immediately, your face finds a place into her neck. It feels familiar, natural, as if you have belonged here your whole life. The woman feels like home, she feels safe, and the exhaustion just disappears as soon as she holds you in her arms.

"You did so great," she whispers as she kisses your head, and you can't help but smile. That is the only thing you wanted to hear tonight, the only compliment that really makes sense — you never feel as proud as when she is the one to say those sweet words.

You have known the woman for years. She was your manager, but she quickly became more than that. A friend, at first, and eventually the love of your life. It took you a lot of time to realize how you were truly feeling toward the brunette, and she has patiently waited for you to figure it. It has only been a few months since you two started dating, and even less since you broke the news on your social media, and you have never felt so happy in your life. It feels like you are living a dream, the thing you two have being precious and perfect.

—

The live was her idea. She has insisted that it could be great for your carrier, she said something about boosting your music and popularity. You are not sure you want to increase your audience — you are singer, not a celebrity — but how could you say no when the brunette was looking at you with those pleading eyes?

You are not as confident as the woman who promised that it would be fun is. You are now nervously watching your girlfriend setting up everything, low-key considering to change your mind. When you are on stage, it is easy to embody someone else, but keeping the act up without the artifices is not as easy — what if they do not like the real you? The one that is much different from the artist they love? The one that is not confident, nor bold, nor loud? The one that, on the contrary, is always hesitant?

"Do not overthink it, love," she softly says when she notices how nervous you are. "Everthing will be fine, okay? Just be yourself, they will love you, I promise," she assures, her hands cupping your cheeks to force you to look at her while she talks. You eventually nod, your nerves soothed by the way her thumb is drawing circles on your skin.

So here you are, on live, with Wanda that is sitting on your left. For the past hour, you have been talking about your future projects and answering random questions from the chat, and you have to admit that she was right —; everything is going fine. At one point, you became more comfortable, and you surprised yourself by enjoying the whole thing.

"Could we have a snippet of your next song?" you read the question out loud, and you frown, "I do not think that-"

"Why not?" she cuts you, and a glance could kill, she would probably be dead by now. The reason you've tried to dodge the question is because your next song may be one of the most explicit you have ever written, and you both know it — yet, she is still trying to get you to read some lyrics? The mere thought of reading them is enough for you to die with embarassment. "Is that because you are embarassed, hm?" she adds when you do not reply, calling you out.

"No- no, I just-," you try to defend yourself, but she knows the truth, and you are both aware that she won't fall for your lies. Maybe that is why one glance is enough for her to keep your silent.

"Then come on, tell us everything," she smiles — obviously she is smiling. You glance at the woman as she leans back on the sofa, her hands cross on her laps.

She has this expression on her face, one that screams fake innocent, one that makes you melt. The woman is everything but innocent. On the contrary, she knows exactly what she is doing to you, and she enjoys every minute of your tourments. She could have helped you to dodge the question, but instead she decided to be mean about it — bitch, you thought. "We are all waiting," she adds, and you can see how the people from the chats are going crazy, everyone getting exciting at the idea of learning more about your next song.

You reluctantly take your phone out, opening your notes but, when you read the first lines, you know that you won't be able to do it — you definitely don't remember the lyrics to be that explicit when you wrote them. All you can do is mumbling something that no one could hear you say.

"What did you say, honey? We couldn't hear you..," she says. Her head is tilted to the side, a frown of false concern on her face, but it is just an act, and the woman still has the same stupid smirk playing on her lips.

Suddenly, you realize that your head starts to be fuzzy. The thoughts and words are hard, just because of that name she called you — honey. You want her to say it again, you love it so much when she calls you by these stupid names, and she loves them to. Those words hold so much power over you, and the woman adores how easily she can bend you to her will whenever she uses them. It will never not be funny to her to witness how flustered you can get.

"You weren't as shy last night," she whispers in your ear, leaning toward you so no one could hear those words, nor try to read on her lips. Before she pulls away, she discretely nibble to your earlobe. You are so lost in your thoughts after that you barely register her laugh.

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world-of-aus · 4 months ago

Text

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue. Longing????

Author's Note: Chapter 3 is finally here, I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to make this as good as I could for all of you. Also the vows used are my personal favorite and I think they fit the story well. I hope you enjoy, thank you, and happy readings!

You’re looking over the latest shipment, fingers dancing down the list of numbers, eyes scanning over the page from left to right.

“You know, I heard most brides should be relaxing before their big day, having a night out on the town with their friends. Why am I not surprised you’re still here sweetheart?"

Your fingers still, eyes flitting up to see you father at the open door of your office, you offer a warm smile, “m'about done, just doing a final check before the weekend, wanted to make sure our numbers were right come Monday when we merge with the Barnes, didn't want a single hair out of place. And I'll have you know that Becca and I had a girls night yesterday by the way, we plan on catching a late dinner tonight as well so consider that my night out on the town.”

Your father chuckles stepping into your space, your eyes flit back to the sheet as he draws closer, his presence looming at your side as he watches you. He waits till you’ve skimmed the last of the page, till you’re relaxed back against the office chair eyes on him before he speaks.

“How are you doing my girl,” he murmurs reaching out to stroke your head, “I’ve been worried about you since your mom called you home and delivered the news.”

“I don’t know how to feel dad,” you answer honestly, “should I feel happy, sad, angry, regret?”

“Regret?” he questions.

“This isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” you say. “I planned a wedding for tomorrow that isn’t mine, everything up to the last detail is hers, it's not mine and now I’m expected to step up – to step in for my family. Do you know what that’s going to feel like? To look like? Stepping in to a wedding that screams ‘This isn’t yours’, a wedding that you didn't invision." What if she comes back dad, what if she comes to her senses and decides she wants him back? What then? Are you going to discard up the contract like you did that night? Discard my feelings as if they meant less than hers?”

Your father looks stricken by your words, “but we thought it’s what you wanted sweetheart, you didn’t fight us on it, you willingly let him sign so we assumed it's what you wanted too."

You scoff with a shake of your head, maybe you’d settle on feeling anger. “Of course I made it seem like it's something I wanted. Forgive me for not wanting to put myself through a one-sided marriage. He fell for her dad the first night he laid eyes on her and he was locked in, he loves her, he chose her. So of course I let him go despite my breaking heart. I refused to be the cause of someone’s unhappiness, to be the cause of my own unhappiness because I deserve someone who will love me back, who would choose me and he wasn’t going to chose me.”

‘I can’t do this to her.’

But he could do it to you.

“Sweetheart I’m -”

You bring a hand up, “Please don’t dad, I’ve agreed to this because I know what it meant to our family, and I’ll play my role just as you asked but please don't ask more of me, there's only so much that I can give, and I think I've given enough."

Your fathers struck by your words, and he can only watch as you stand from the seat gathering your things. It’s only once you’ve reached the door of the office you turn to regard him, “I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” He wants to call you back, to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness because how could he have not seen it. Seen what that night did to you, he should have done more for you, fought it, but all he could think of that night was the merger, the safety it would bring both families. He thought of everyone’s happiness but your own that night. They all did.

“You know my offer still stands to be your getaway driver for tomorrow right?”

Despite the tears blurring your eyes you still manage to snort out your laughter, “Your brother would have us tracked down in minutes Bec’s there’s no where you could go that he wouldn’t find you, he has plenty of people that owe him favors just ready to cash in. Also don't get me started on the hell my father would reign, I don't take his position till after I marry."

“It was a worth a try,” she grumbles stabbing a noodle, “I just hate to see you hurting y/n, this isn’t how the night before your big day should be going, you should be happy – those tears shouldn’t be sad ones.”

You smile sadly at the noodles in the takeout box before looking over the coffee table at your best friend, “but this isn’t my big day Bec's, I'm doing this for our families." Rebecca abandons her noodles all but crawling over the wooden coffee table to get to you, her arms crushing you in a welcomed embrace. “Tomorrow is for you y/n, I know none of it feels like it is, but its for you, I promise it is.”

Your fingers curl around your friend as more tears slip from your eyes, god how you wish that were the truth. You would give yourself tonight to cry, to be hurt, to feel angry, but tomorrow, tomorrow it would all be different - you'd learn to mask it. You would no longer cry, no longer allow this pain to consume you, you were going to fight for your happiness - real happiness, and ensure you got every bit of it you deserved.

Bucky remembered the nights the two of you would be out in the backyard of the Barnes residence, a soft blanket laid out beneath the two of you, the stars coating the night sky as you two drew up the image of the ‘perfect wedding’ a wedding between the two of you that was written in the stars. Looking around the chapel now he doesn’t see a single speck of you in the details. Though why would he, this wedding wasn’t yours despite all the effort you had gone to make sure it was perfect and it really wasn’t his – was it?

He still recalls the day your sister eagerly announced their engagement to both families, he had imagined this being one of the most exciting moments in his life but where was that sought after feeling? He had found no excitement when she mentioned that you and her would be going dress shopping for the first time since the engagement dropped, no eagerness in wondering what she would look like in her chosen all white dress. If anything he felt like he had been outsider to most of it, the cake testing, the linen choosing, the food tasting, and at the time he couldn't quite understand why. Where had that rush he felt with you in his backyard gone? This was his wedding, he should feel happy, so why didn't he, what was missing?

Bucky thought he might be devastated when his mother rang him to tell him about your sister not being able to go through with the wedding. He thought he might have been crushed when he received her text: Please forgive me. I love you, but I can't do this. He thought he might feel hurt when his number was blocked shortly after, but he felt nothing.

Now though as he stands at the head of the chapel, Steve and Sam at his side a feeling Bucky can’t place his finger on crushes his chest as he looks over the families lining the pews of the church. There are quiet whispers filtering through the air, and Bucky thinks that's what may be causing the feeling. Or maybe it was the fact that you still hadn’t entered through the closed doors of the chapel.

Had you unlike your sister gotten actual cold feet, or maybe you finally decide to do something for you, something that wasn't at the benefit of your family.

Steve leans in from where he’s stood at his side, “would you like me to go check on them pal?” Bucky’s lip's part on an answer but the doors to the chapel are pushing in, his sister albeit a little disheveled makes her way down the aisle, quiet apologies on her lips as she takes her spot on your side.

He looks at her in question, "we hit a bump in the road," she mouths, "she's coming."

Bucky wants to question her further, but then the piano is being queued, the doors swinging open and just there at the entrance you stand with your father, your arms entwined together.

He forgets how to breathe.

Bucky watches your father guide the two of you down the aisle, both family's stood on their feet. The feeling that weighed him down earlier is now replaced with something new as your father closes the distance. You're dressed in a silk white dress, a delicate veil placed in your hair, a simple piece yet on you it looked incredibly stunning, so this was the bump in the road.

He meets you and your father, your hand being placed in his, "take care of my girl son." Bucky looks at your father, his hand squeezing yours, "I give you my word sir." your father nods placing a kiss to your cheek before taking his spot by your mother.

It's just you and Bucky for a moment as he leads you up to the officiant, "I'm sorry for being late," you whisper, "I -" He turns to you then as you stop before the officiant, his other hand taking yours, "there's nothing to be sorry for I understand, you're here now, you look beautiful sweetheart."

He's left you speechless, but there's no room for words as the officiant begins the ceremony.

Bucky can't take his eyes off you, not even as he repeats the vows he's supposed to, his eyes only ever part from yours when he goes to present you with the ring Steve passes him, and even then they're on yours shortly after as he makes his promise to you. He cant quite describe the feeling that passes over him when you take the ring from Becca eyes locked on his as you make your vows to him sealing it with the ring over his finger.

Why did he ever let you go?

"James Barnes and Y/F/N Y/L/N, having proclaimed your love and commitment to one another in the eyes of these loved ones, and with the power vested in me by the Universal Life Church and the state of New York, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant turns his attention to Bucky then, "You may kiss your bride."

You and Bucky had only ever kissed one other time, and it was a moment like this one that he knew he would never forget.

He's on his side looking down at you, taking in the beauty of your features as your eyes dance across the starry sky. "I'd want to write my own vow's," he proclaims, "it would feel more personal, more us."

He loves when your eyes find his, there's a brightness in your eyes at his proclamation, "I'd love that too B, care to share with me a bit of what you'd say?"

He know's you're teasing but in that moment he doesn't care, he thinks he may be able to tell you tonight, to show you just how much he cares, how much he loves you. "I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms now and forever," he breathes grinning at the soft surprise that skirts over your features. "I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

He thinks you might have been the first to move, your hand finding the back of his head, the other the side of his face as you caressed his cheek, he knows there's love in your eyes as you pull him a little closer, the whispered words, 'you may now kiss the bride' ghosting over his lips just before they met yours.

He's certain he's the one that's moved first this time, one hand finding your waist, the other your cheek as he pulls you closer. He can see the fear, the worry there in your eyes, and he caresses your skin in hopes of easing that worry as he closes the distance between the two of you.

And just before his lips slot over yours Bucky vows then to mend the promises he had broken.

The Arrangement Taglist:

If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know, Many Thanks <3

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr @esposadomd @roofwitty779 @pattiemac1 @sebastians-love @scott-loki-barnes @mrsnikstan @metanoiablxxm @lostyx @missvelvetsstuff @casa-boiardi @shoutingcardinal @tiedyedghoulette @littleeuphoriaelf @polireader @armystay89 @cjand10 @railmesebstan @agardenflower25 @brckenmemories @mcira @loki-laufeyson68 @edelweissbarnes @unaxv @ghalouha @wasalreadyhere @broadwaybabe18 @mavs101 @stormy-stardust @shadowrose13-blog1 @laha1na

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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spaceclefairy · 6 months ago

Text

Only You

You don't expect the Ghoul to hang around, but he comes creepin' back in around sundown every night. You're glad you remembered the Rad-Away.

Act I | Act II | Act III | Act V | Ao3 Compilation

You're stuck in Filly for the next few days while you sort out the raider issue with your agency. You assume “sorting it out” involves the agency terminating the raiders with characteristic violence and aplomb, but you don’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answer.

There’s not a lot of lodging in Filly. In fact, there’s not much of anything. Ramshackle trader stalls, a few real stores if you squint, a radroach-infested motel, and a bar that most of the town seemed to frequent once the hour struck late no matter the day. At least the bar has enough open rooms to let you rent one for a few nights.

You hadn't expected the Ghoul to stick around, but so far, he continues to show up. He disappears during the day, then returns long after dark and crawls into the small barroom bed with you. You don't ask him what he gets up to during the day (you don't want to know), but you assume he's taking care of smaller contracts while he's out.

You've been spending your days at the agency hub taking down telegrams for contracts and sending out bids. It's mind numbing work when you're used to dealing with bounty hunters all day, but you've got to do something while you wait for the agency to give you the okay to go back home. You need money, and you’ll probably go nuts if you don’t keep yourself busy.

At least you've got the chance to see some old acquaintances at the agency hub. A couple of former bounty hunters who'd come through your office were now agents at the hub. They're alright, as far as wastelanders go; you hang around with them when you take breaks.

Today’s smoke break has more or less turned into gossip time. You’re happy to listen in on any and all gossip (it’s part of your job, after all) - it’s less enjoyable when the questions turn to you.

One of them, a woman whose teeth were file-sharpened into fangs (creatively named Fang), lives above the bar down the hall from you. She's good natured, if quite terrifying. She leans against the crumbling concrete wall of the hub, taking a drag on a little paper cylinder that smells suspiciously like burning catnip. “I saw that ghoul you came into town with last night. Is he staying with you?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

You’re not inclined to expound upon her question, but she lives down the hall from you. She’s obviously seen the Ghoul creeping into your room at night (he’s not exactly quiet, either), hence the question.

The other, an individual with - conversely - no teeth to speak of (again, creatively named Gums - fuckin’ wastelanders), chimes in. “You're staying with a ghoul?”

“Yeah-”

Fang interrupts you. “And not just a ghoul. The Ghoul.”

“The Ghoul? As in…” Gums raises a sparse, flakey eyebrow. You nod, and they whistle. “Nice. How'd you bag that?”

“Longtime client,” you reply simply. You don’t know Gums as well as you do Fang, but they seem harmless enough. “He got caught in the gunfight when the raiders showed up at my office.”

You neglect to tell them he'd started the gunfight. The less they know, the better.

“Not bad. You could do worse,” Fang observes. “Does his dick look like the rest of him?”

You nod. “Yep.”

Gums grins. “Cool.”

Your break turns into playing hooky the rest of the day, mostly because you don’t want to field any more questions from anyone who’d seen you walking around with the Ghoul. You make yourself scarce for the rest of the day, choosing to wander around town. You haven't been to Filly in years, not since you were a kid. It hasn't changed much. There's still the same derelict bars, saloons, and stores. There's more than one bounty agency here, too, though you don't know which ones. You're only concerned with yours.

Sundown slides over the town by the time you head back over to the bar for the night. Everyone’s locked down and boarded up their places of business, the street vendors have all scattered. You know that Filly after sundown is not a great place to be, but you can hold your own if the need arises.

You're in the mood for a drink tonight, and frankly, there's nothing else to do in Filly after dark that won’t get you shot. When you step into the dingy bar, you make your way up to the bartender and grab a beer. It’s watery and gross-looking, but it smells like beer and you can’t be picky out here in the wasteland.

When you turn around to find somewhere to sit, you spot the Ghoul watching you from a back corner of the bar. You're surprised he’s back by sundown - he’d been rolling in late into the night, long after the moon had risen into the sky. You take your beer and skirt around the chairs and tables littering the bar.

He cocks his head and watches you approach. He's got a half-full beer mug in one hand - evidence he's been back for a while. He doesn't give you a chance to grab another chair when you reach him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down into his lap.

If you didn't know how much booze it takes to affect a ghoul, you'd assume your Ghoul was drunk, but he's not. He just doesn't seem to care that the few patrons of the bar have their eyes trained on the two of you. Of all the things you expect him to be, possessive is not one - or maybe he is possessive, and this is his warning to the other patrons. You don't care which, and you’re not inclined to give it further thought. Rather, you're distracted by his hand squeezing the top of your thigh.

The Ghoul takes a drink of his beer and rests the glass on your knee. “Any word on the raiders?”

“Other than, it's being handled, no,” you reply. You force your brain to focus away from his hand on your thigh. You don’t want to admit to yourself that’s all it takes for him to get you going. “My agency isn't exactly forthcoming about what goes on behind the scenes.”

“No, they're quiet about how dangerous they are, and they like to keep it that way,” he agrees. He pauses, and grins slightly. “Kind of like you. You're a hell of shot with that rifle.”

Compliments from him are few and far-between - forward compliments at least. He’s far more show than tell. You’re… flattered, actually, that he’s paid attention to you beyond just physically. You know he has, but it’s nice to hear it.

Again, you suspect you may actually like the Ghoul.

“Can't be a bounty agent if you haven't been a bounty hunter before,” you shrug. “I've had plenty of practice.”

He takes a drink of his beer, and says, so, so quietly, “Ditch the agency and come with me. Be a bounty hunter again.”

You raise an eyebrow. He's not serious, surely.

“I like what I do now, Cooper,” you reply softly. “But my door's always open.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

The Ghoul returns to people-watching in silence, sipping on his beer and continuously making you more and more nervous with his hand on your thigh. He's taken to rubbing circles into your thigh with his thumb, and he keeps getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. He's not being even remotely inconspicuous, either. More than one person in the bar has caught on to what’s going on in the back corner, if the odd looks you’re getting tell you anything.

You don't try to make him stop (you don’t think you’re capable of asking him to stop), but you do lean back against his shoulder and press your lips to his ear. “You're gonna do this here?”

He looks you dead in the eye. “I'll fuck you right here in this chair with every single person watchin’.”

Yeah, no, he's serious on that one. You can see it in his eyes. Actually, you can feel his dick pressed against the back of your leg, too.

You blink. “We should probably go upstairs now.”

He chugs the rest of his beer, then pats your leg, motioning for you to stand up. “Should have already gone upstairs.”

You don't disagree. In fact, you don't think you could have stood up any faster.

The Ghoul looks you up and down with that grin on his face before following you up the stairs. You don't quite make it back to your room before he’s grabbing at you by the waist and pulling you close. He traps you against the wall, body pressing down on you, completely irreverent of anyone walking down the hallway behind you. You grab his face and kiss him; his raw skin is chapped, but soft and cool against yours. The brim of his hat knocks against the top of your head, but you don’t care.

You scramble to find your door key in your back pocket and only just manage to get your hands on it. You can’t quite manage to get the key in the lock, so he takes a break from what he’s doing (grabbing your tits under your shirt) to take it from you and jam it into the door.

The Ghoul kicks the doors closed behind him with the heel of his boot. The force shakes dust from the walls and kicks dirt up from the floor. With a single-mindedness that takes your breath away, he backs you up to the tiny bed shoved up against the back wall and drops down to his knees.

He strips your pants and underwear down your legs, then prompts you to sit down with a hand on your stomach. As much as you like when he tries to have a little patience, you like it this way more - sloppy, breathless, a little desperate for you. A starving man eating his first meal in days.

With a tug, he drags your hips over to the edge of the bed and sets to work with his tongue. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and busy yourself picking open the buttons of your shirt with shaking fingers. You shrug out of your shirt, leaving yourself completely exposed. He hasn't even taken off his hat yet, but you take care of that for him and drop it onto your head.

The Ghoul looks up at you and pauses his ministrations, licking his lips in thought.

You shrug. “The hat was in the way.”

He doesn't respond, choosing to set his mouth back to better purposes, but he keeps his eyes trained up on your face while he sticks his tongue in your cunt. He's sloppy about it, spreading your lips with his gloved thumbs so he can get better access to you. You buck up against his face, and he doesn't stop you - no, he buries his tongue deeper between your legs and lets you ride his face, all the while still looking up at you with those bright hazel eyes.

Finally, it hits you, and you grin like you've won the damn lottery. “You like me wearing your hat, Cooper?”

He nips your inner thigh with his teeth, making you jump, and sets back to sucking your clit. You take that as a warning not to tease him, but it's so much more fun to know his mouth is too full of you to tease you back.

You don't stop teasing him, knowing full well it's just going to rile him up. “Why don't you come up here so I can ride your face properly, cowboy? I've got the hat to fit the part.”

The Ghoul has had enough of the gloves obstructing his ability to feel your skin. He stops long enough to strip them off, stick a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit, and press his finger deep into your entrance. You choke on the fullness, the sensation rough but not unwelcome.

“Well, don't get quiet on me now,” he says.

You stutter, but he can absolutely understand you when you say, “I like riding your face when you're on your knees, too.”

He spreads you apart and licks you, slow and deep, chasing the path of his fingers. He watches you while he does it, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that right?”

You nod. “Sure is.”

You lean over where you sit, where he's still on his knees on the floor, and unbutton his shirt. You expect him to tell you to stop - there's more light in the room this time, after all - but he doesn't. He shrugs his duster and shirt down over his shoulders and lets them hit the floor. This time, you can really see what he looks like. Raw, pitted skin, mostly red but pink-white in places where old scars have healed over time and again, build slight but still muscular. He seems to be waiting for you to pull back, recoil away - stop in your tracks. You grab his face and kiss him, then pull him to his feet.

You pull him closer by his belt before that comes off, too. Boots and pants next, dropped carelessly to the floor. You take a minute to look and touch, run your hands over exposed skin, and he sighs softly at your touch.

“Look at you, Cooper,” you say. “Aren’t you a sight?”

“You are fuckin’ strange,” the Ghoul comments, but it’s with affection. His version of affection, anyway.

“Yeah,” you shoot back with a grin, “but I don't hear you complaining.”

You take his cock in hand and run your tongue along the vein underneath, making him twitch. You swallow him down, fisting what doesn’t fit in your mouth, until he’s threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you off of him.

The Ghoul deems that to be the extent of what he can take from you. You’re on your back with him crawling over you before your brain registers that he’s moved. He smashes his lips down over yours while his hands creep up along your sides. He wastes no time reaching between your legs and running the head of his cock along your slit. Not for the first time, you marvel at how much you prefer the roughness over his attempts to be patient.

You’ve teased him long enough, you decide, so you wrap your legs around his waist and arch up against him. “Come on, Coop -”

He obliges and thrusts into you, planting one hand next to your head for leverage. The other hand catches your chin and holds you steady while he fucks you. You meet his eyes, and the way he watches you - like it’s a privilege to touch you - makes you ache.

You nudge him with your hip until he rolls on his back. You slide him back inside, hissing at the returning fullness, and grind down on him with your hands on his chest. He wraps his hands around your thighs, squeezing so hard you're sure you'll find new bruises come morning.

You like watching him from up here. The way his jaw clenches, when his head lolls back in response to whatever you're doing, the way his mouth parts in a semi-attempt to say your name or give you direction - it captivates you. You like when he’s speechless - when he can’t pull himself together long enough to tease you.

The Ghoul can feel your hips stutter when you move, grinding down harder each time for any little extra bit of friction. His thumb finds you clit and presses circles into you relentlessly, letting you use the palm of his hand to find the friction you need.

“Go ahead,” he says, breathless, “come on my cock, babydoll.”

You do, with a hand on his chest and the other hand on his wrist, holding him close and steady. It rolls down your back, down your thighs, all the way out to your fingertips, like the wasteland air burning underneath your skin. Your nails bite into his wrist, and that makes him smile - a real grin, not the smug skeleton grin you’re used to getting from him. You return it.

When the Ghoul comes, he wraps an arm around your back to keep you steady and holds you flush against his chest. You sigh at the touch of his skin against yours, his chest pressed against yours, your nipples prickling against him. You take it as he comes, grinding down on him when he fills you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, teeth grazing his raw skin.

The usual question of radaway? doesn't come this time. You’re not concerned, and neither is he; the dose you took that morning would still be enough.

The Ghoul scoops you up into his side when he’s come back to his senses and rolls you onto your back. You wrap your arms around him and trail a finger down the back of his neck, just barely scratching at his skin with your nails. He burrows his face into your soft chest (the lack of nose is helpful in this regard) and closes his eyes.

After a few minutes, you say, “You know, I’ve liked you since the first time you walked into my office.”

The Ghoul glances up at you before closing his eyes again. “Can’t imagine why.”

“You were all business,” you reply. “I respect that.”

The Ghoul is quiet for a while, long enough you think he’s gone to sleep, but he answers. “Weird way to tell someone you like ‘em.”

You snort. “I’m trying to be nice, dickhead.”

You can feel him grinning against your skin. “Well, baby, that’s on you.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “I’ll kick your ass out of this bed.”

“Sure you will,” he replies. “Just remember that when you roll over and grab me like you did this morning.”

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x fem!reader #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #fallout amazon #fallout tv series

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puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Text

just a random post with a string of nonsense thoughts about the hughes brothers and how bad i want to be a part of that family

like, not even having to marry into it kinda way, but maybe being best friends with one of the boys and just assimilating into their routines?

i mean, imagine being jack’s bestie and always being over at their house or driving him to hockey practice or tagging along to games and it’s always just assumed you’re staying for dinner after giving him a ride home from practice. Or it’s always assumed when they go to the lake on weekends you’re going to be there too

and don’t even get me started on how luke and quinn basically treat you like a sister since you’re attached to jack’s hip and act just like him. the arguments you’d have with luke about who gets to choose what’s on tv, then quinn eventually vetos any kind of compromise between the two of you because he’s the oldest so his choice “means more than both of yours combined”

also thinking about when the guys want to go play golf but you show up at their house to hang out with them, so they have you tag along and drive the golf cart, resulting in everyone getting kicked off of the golf course because you were caught by the cart girl for having two grown men hanging off of the back of your golf cart re-enacting king of the world from titanic as you make your way to the green.

or when you go on a date with a guy your friend set you up with, all three of them sneak around and tag along in ridiculous “disguises” with fake wigs and mustaches to make sure he’s not a dick or a serial killer. and when you catch them, seeing a glimpse of luke’s curly hair from a few booths down, you walk over to confront them and threaten to call ellen because you know that’s the only threat that scares them, watching them scurry off with glares on their faces, mumbling how they just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a dick.

then weeks later, when the same guy ghosts you and you see him with another girl, the only place you want to go is the hughes house, so you show up unannounced, quinn watching you walk into the kitchen (you have a key so you just let yourself in) with tear stained cheeks and he immediately goes angry big brother mode, insisting you tell him where the asshole lives so he can go rough him up a bit. jack comes downstairs to see what all the commotion is, and once he hears what happened he takes over quinn’s role as shoulder to cry on, quinn already setting everything up for a movie night and telling luke he needs to go out and get your favorite snacks.

when ellen and jim come home that night to a dark house and a blanket mound in the middle of their living room floor, they see you asleep cuddled in-between jack and quinn, with luke laying at everyone’s feet, and they smile and turn the tv off, happy that all of their kiddos are safe under one roof tonight.

and the next morning, when you all wake up to ellen cooking a huge breakfast, knowing her boys wake up like starved animals, she pulls you aside to make sure you’re okay, her heart swelling when you look over at the three heathen’s absolutely demolishing their plates of breakfast, and tell her you’ve never been better.

don’t even get me started on holidays. you have to split time between your own family and the hughes residence like you’re a child of divorce because you’ve been involved in all of their holiday traditions since you could remember. you help them decorate their tree, you help ellen wrap presents, you help jim set up all of their yard decorations, you have annual ginger bread house decorating competitions with each of the boys, and your favorite, helping the boys surprise ellen with a huge gift each year.

or when you attend all of their big games, from their team usa juniors games, to quinn and luke’s games at michigan, to each brother’s first pro game. you and ellen always have matching, personalized jersey’s for the occasion, wanting every to know who you’re there to support.

also thinking about flying out and being there for each of them when they go through their first big struggle with homesickness and missing their family, wanting to be there for them like they’ve been there for you over the years. and sending them each care packages each month with goodies from home and handmade gifts from whatever craft you’ve taken up that month (the crochet phase produced some very oddly shaped socks)

and when you decide you can’t stand not living near your favorite set of brothers, you move be closer to the youngest two, hating that you likely won’t be able to live in a place close to all three of them again. but quinn petitioned for partial custody (his exact words to jack) so the spare bedroom at his apartment in vancouver is now yours and he insists on paying for you to fly out to his place every other month, no matter how much you protest that you can buy your own plane tickets.

you know they all have countdowns to lake time each summer on their phones, too. quinn sending updates in the groupchat every day, then starting over the day everyone returns home from the summer festivities.

but overall, i’m just thinking about how fun i know it would be, and how anyone in that family will be surrounded by so much kindness and love.

anyways there’s my nonsense, random, run-on string of thoughts for the day.

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invisible-lint · 6 months ago

Text

Not Quite Soulmates

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel introduces you to his family when your mating bond snaps... Just not with him

Warnings: light angst?

Word Count: 1.1k

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if you liked this dress better than the last one. You had been seeing Azriel for the better part of six months, and tonight you were going to meet his family for the first time. You smile, thinking back to when you had first met the Shadowsinger.

You had been at work, shelving books on the top shelf, when suddenly the ladder you were standing on broke and you fell. You had expected to hit the ground, only to be caught by Azriels strong arms instead. Despite that being like something out of a romance book, it had taken Azriel some time to get you to go on a date with him. It wasn't that you hadn't been attracted to him, you absolutely were. But you had been unlucky in love, and convinced yourself you were destined to be alone.

He would come into the store and ask for recommendations and then come back to talk about the book with you before asking for another recommendation. This went on for months before eventually you had asked him out when one of your coworkers had said she would if you didn't.

And now, six months later, you were so glad that you had. You couldn't imagine your life without him in it.

You're drawn out of your thoughts by arms wrapping around your waist and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

"You look beautiful."

"Yeah? I wasn't sure if I should wear this dress or the purple one." He presses more kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. You smile, tilting your head to the side as he does.

"Definitely this one. I have a... Very fond memory of this dress." You laugh, knowing exactly what very fond memory he was thinking of. You had worn this dress to dinner before taking him to your bed for the first time.

"Keep it in your pants Azzie. We'll have plenty of time for that later tonight, after dinner."

He takes a step back, sighing, holding his hand out for you. You take it with a smile, and he leads you out the door.

It's a nice late summer evening, so the two of you walk to the River House. He stops you just outside the door, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's not too late to back out, we can always head back home and I can come up with an excuse."

You shake your head, laughing. "You have been putting this off for far too long already. Either you're nervous, or you're trying to get me naked."

"A bit of both." He admits.

"Well too bad, because we're going in. And you're going to have to deal with all of your favorite people ganging up to tease you." He laughs, shaking his head and leads you inside. The two of you head for the sitting room where everyone is mingling before dinner.

Azriel leads you around the room, introducing you to everyone as he does. You make eye contact with the long haired Illyrian you assume is Cassian, the brother Azriel has told you so much about. Azriel starts to lead you over to him and you freeze, eyes widening. A mating bond has snapped into place, but not with your boyfriend. No, it snapped into place with his brother. And going off the look on his face, it snapped for him too. You both curse at the same time, drawing attention from the rest of the room. Azriel looks at you, his expression asking what's wrong. You have two options. You can tell them what just happened, or you can run. You choose the latter, running out of the sitting room and down the hall, out the front door. You follow the Sidra, paying no attention to where you’re going.

You run until you trip over a rock, tumbling to the soggy ground next to the river. You lay there, looking at the stars, slowly starting to dance across the sky. Perhaps you could move courts, because you certainly couldn't continue to date Azriel. Not without rejecting the mating bond. And you can't stand the idea of living so close to your mate and not being with him. Yes. You'll move courts. As you lay on the river bank, imagining which court you'll move to and your new life there, Azriel lands nearby, calling out your name. You sit up and look at him, biting your lip. “Azzie… I…”

“I know. Cassian told us everything.” He sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you lean against him.

“I guess this means we have to break up…”

“Because you want to be with him?”

“Because I would have to reject the bond to be with you. And you could never look at me the same way again knowing I'm the reason he's in so much pain.”

“And you want to be with him.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Every single romance book you recommend was about mates. Even the ones that weren't romances, if they happened to have a relationship, they were mates. You want a mating bond.”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“It will take some time, but I'll be okay.”

You lean away so you can look up at him, but his face is blank, unreadable. You frown, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You hate when he does this, shoves all signs of emotion away, leaving you unable to tell what he's feeling.

“I don't want to lose you.”

“I don't want to lose you either. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. Take some time to wrap your head around it if you need to, but you should get to know him before you make a decision.”

You nod. “I suppose I won't run away to the Summer Court then.”

“What?”

“Before you got here I was debating leaving for another court. I was thinking about the Summer Court.”

Azriel shakes his head. “Rhys and I had to talk Cass out of running away to Windhaven. The two of you are ridiculous.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I think it's a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, standing and helping you up. “I'm taking you back before you can convince yourself running away is the best option again.” He picks you up, holding you in tight as he takes off, flying back to the River House, back to your mate, breaking his own heart.

A/N: I have plans for what's essentially a happier part 2 with Cassian and also I'm sorry I love Azriel and I want him to be happy but I haven't written anything happy for him yet oops. Feel free to send in requests! I won't be posting this week, but I will still be writing!

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

Note

Ok, so In your response to my last spiel, you mentioned that Alexander will have a zero tolerance policy towards anything that may harm Reader and her the twins, including other wives.

It does make me wonder how Alexander would react to one of the wives (aka Roxanna 👀👀👀) trying to kill our girl. I keep picturing this scenario where it's a banquet, feast or some sort of get together with Alexander, Reader, Roxanna and maybe some of the generals. Long story short, Roxanna hands Reader a cup with a 'special' drink (ie she says promotes health, will help with the pregnancy etc). Reader, being as smart as she is, and knowing Roxanna's history, is automatically suspicious. To see if it's safe she either asks Alexander to 'taste' if for her or insists that Roxanna take the first sip. In either case, it results in Roxanna frantically slapping the cup out of Reader's hand before either she or her husband gets poisoned. At that point, everyone has noticed the commotion, and have realized that Roxanna has just tried to poison the Queen.

My question to you is this: what does Alexander do next? Lets assume reader is pregnant just to make thing extra spicy.

Since requests are open again, perhaps you could do it as a reaction blurb? I'll leave that up to you though. I'm just curious as to what you think would happen next.

Thanks, and hope you feel better ❤️!

--O-

❝ 📜— lady l: this was longer than I thought and I don't know if it's good, I liked it, but let me know your opinion, anon! Forgive me for any mistakes, love you! ❤️

❝tw: attempted murder, mention of poison, domestic violence (??), physical punishment and perhaps torture.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝ 📜word count: 1,246.

It was supposed to be a happy and fun dinner.

Needless to say, that's not what happened.

You were sitting next to Alexander, being shown off as his beloved Queen and heavily pregnant. Everyone was hoping for an male heir and was happy for you, everyone except Roxanna who looked at you as if she wanted to stab you or, in this case, stab you in the stomach.

That scared the shit out of you.

You were already familiar with her story, about what she had done to Stateira and Parysatis, and you were afraid that she might try to do something to you and the baby.

You wouldn't let anything happen, though. Although you weren't excited about the pregnancy news at first, you warmed up to the idea and began to look forward to holding your baby in your arms. And you'd be damned if you let anyone try to take that away from you.

''Are you alright?'' Alexander leaned over and whispered in your ear. You looked at him and smiled, it was still strange calling him your husband, but you were getting used to it.

You gave a weak nod to his question.

Alexander frowned and placed his hands on your swollen belly. It was just a few months until the birth and he was so excited. He did want an heir, but he couldn't help but want to have a girl.

A little princess to love and spoil.

''We need to start choosing names.'' He joked, trying to ease your obvious tension, although he didn't know what was making you tense. Yet.

''I already gave you some choices.''

Alexander grimaced, ''Yes, you did and they are all horrible. What kind of name is Augustus?''

You laughed loudly, attracting attention. Augustus, yes, you had given him that option as a joke. Obviously you weren't going to name your child after the first Roman emperor, but it was fun to play with your husband about historical things.

''It's just a common name where I come from.''

''Hm...'' He half-closed his eyes and you touched his face gently, caressing him. Alexander purred and leaned into your hand.

This earned you a look of compassion and a furious, jealous look from Roxanna. You didn't notice and neither did Alexander, both too busy in your affection for each other.

''I love you.'' He murmured, looking into your eyes intensely.

You smiled at him, ''I love you too.''

''Let's make a toast!'' Nearchus' amused voice sounded and everyone turned to the admiral.

''A toast?'' Cassander asked with a loud voice looking into his cup of wine.

Nearchus laughed loudly and slapped his friend on the back, ''Yes. In honor of our beloved Queen, (Y/N).''

Nearchus didn't notice Roxanna's withering look at him. But you did and the pure hatred you saw in those dark eyes gave you goosebumps.

You knew that look and you knew nothing good was coming.

Everyone raised their cups, even your husband's second wife. You were the only one drinking water, even Hephaestion was drinking wine, and he was loose and happy. And that made you happy, you liked him and he was one of his closest friends and you hated seeing how haggard he seemed lately.

''I dedicate this toast in the name of our beloved (Y/N). Our Queen, sometimes soldier and friend.'' Everyone laughed as they remembered what you had done in the Indian Campaign, ''And the child she carries in her womb. May it come healthy and, regardless of gender, we will love and protect this child. To (Y/N) and the baby!''

''To (Y/N) and the baby!'' Everyone repeated and drank the wine in your honor, you laughed, feeling loved and took a sip of water.

You took a piece of bread and bit into it, satisfying your hunger. Roxanna looked at you and smiled. She took a clay jug and poured the thick, dark liquid into a cup and handed it to you.

You raised your eyebrows in doubt as you picked up the cup.

''It's for you. My doctor told me that it helps with pregnancy and helps the health of the baby and the mother.'' Roxanna explained, biting into a piece of bread.

You mentally scoffed. She didn't think you were that stupid, did she? It was insulting that she thought she could poison you in such a blatant way.

You decided to act quickly, ''Why don't you take a sip first?''

She furrowed her dark eyebrows, ''Excuse me?''

''It's a custom among my people that the person who gave you a cup must taste it first.'' You explained, handing her the cup.

Roxanna looked at the cup in your hands with hatred.

''Take it'' You encouraged her, ''or is there some reason why you don't want to drink it?''

Alexander turned his eyes to you and Roxanna, before he could ask what was going on, Roxanna slapped your hand, making you drop the strange liquid on the table.

The noisy room fell silent in a matter of seconds as Alexander stood up from his chair and fixed his eyes on Roxanna.

''What do you think you're doing?'' Alexander's voice was so cold, so lethal that you stiffened. He ignored you, focusing entirely on his second wife.

Hephaestion, who was sitting on Alexander's left side, stood up and touched the thick liquid on the table. He grimaced as the liquid stuck to his finger.

''That's...'' Perdiccas started to speak but couldn't finish.

''Poison?'' Ptolemy finished for his friend.

''How dare you?!'' Cassander growled, also standing up and glaring furiously at Roxanna. He never liked her, he wasn't oblivious to the hateful looks that Alexander's barbaric wife sent to you, to his friend. And now she tried to poison you.

Cleitus was still sitting, watching everything with a stony expression, but his hand was on the dagger stuck in his chiton. He was prepared to act, one word from you and Roxanna would be eliminated from the world.

Alexander still didn't take his eyes off Roxanna, but he spoke to you, ''Go to our room. I'll be there in a few minutes.''

You wisely decided not to disobey.

You stood up carefully and quickly looked around, watching all your friends, your husband, stare at Roxanna who looked terrified. You should have felt bad for her, but you didn't.

Not when she threatened the life of your unborn baby.

Once you were out of sight, Alexander addressed one of the guards stationed at the entrance to the hall, ''Take the whip.''

Roxanna's small body shook in fear at her husband's words. Her shaking legs gave way and she fell to her knees on the floor, feeling hot tears fall onto the dress she was wearing.

Alexander did not feel sorry. And neither do the others. She had brought this on herself.

Actions have consequences and punishments must be applied. And Alexander would not tolerate anyone threatening your life or that of his unborn child.

Alexander felt satisfaction fill his body as the guard brought out the whip and positioned himself behind a desperate Roxanna's back. He watched with satisfaction as the whip hit her sensitive skin and felt satisfaction when he heard her screams of pain.

Roxanna was to blame for her own pain and the scars that were forever marked on her skin were true proof of that.

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #the lost queen #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reade #alexander the great x reader #yandere reaction #reaction #yandere blurb #blurb #imagine #i'm not sure #o- anon

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sailorstar9 · 2 months ago

Text

Xiao Kissed Lumine, Called It a Game, Until This Game Led F/N to Spend the Night with Kinich

Warning: Anti-Xiao, Anti-Lumine, Angst, University AU

Trigger warning: Cheating, Implied Sex

Lumine, F/N's junior, was chosen in the game of Truth or Dare and voluntarily kissed F/N's boyfriend, Xiao and F/N broke up with him in front of everyone. However, Xiao only dismissed it as a tantrum. “Don't be such a sore loser.” the management major taunted. “If it were you kissing someone else for a game, I wouldn't care at all.”

Xiao had just assumed that a goody-two-shoes like F/N would never do anything outrageous. In the next round, his buddy, Kinich Malipo, the most popular guy in the management department, was chosen for a dare; take a a girl with you for the night. He slowly extended his hand towards F/N, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Want to give it a try with me tonight?”

in the end, F/N placed her hand in his and agreed.

That night, Xiao called F/N non-stop.

The dare that Lumine gave was: choose a guy present and kiss him for three minutes. The next second, her gaze landed squarely on Xiao who was sitting beside F/N. Everyone followed her gaze.

Xiao just lowered his eyes, playing with F/N's hand as if he couldn't feel the intense stare.

Lumine boldly asked F/N, “Senior, I'm borrowing Xiao for three minutes.”

The air was so still that it seemed like everyone was holding their breath, nervously and eagerly watching this unfolding drama.

“There are so many single guys here.” F/N gave the blond girl a flat look. “Why don't you ask someone else?”

Lumine was at a loss for words; biting her lower lip and looking embarrassed.

“If you kiss her, Xiao, I will break up with you.” F/N spat. “I really will.”

Lumine's patience ran out. “Don't be so petty, F/N.”

One of Xiao's friends couldn't stand it any longer and tried to persuade F/N, “Don't take it too seriously. It's just a game.”

His girlfriend muttered under a breath, “Yeah, really ruining the mood. Why bother coming to a bar when you're going to be such a buzzkill?”

Before F/N could respond, Kinich, who hod been sitting silently in the corner of the booth, suddenly let out a light laugh. The focus of the room immediately shifted to him as his gaze landed on the girl who had just spoken. He asked slowly, in a measured tone, “If you're so cool with it, why don't you kiss every guy in the room? Except for me.” he added lazily. “I'm not that cool with it. Buzzkil.” he mocked her with her own words.

F/N stared at him in shock, unable to believe that as Xiao's friend, he would actually speak up for her. The surprise was so overwhelming that she almost forgot to be upset when the two people who had been kissing for three minutes finally finished and pulling her out of her daze.

When Xiao sat back down next to F/N, she was just opening her phone to delete him from her WeTalk. The faint satisfaction on his face instantly vanished, replaced by an emotionless stare. “What do you mean?”

“I just told you, we're breaking up.” F/N reminded.

As F/N was about to block his number, Xiao grabbed her hand. “Are you done with this nonsense?” and he let out a ridiculous laugh, a thin layer of anger lacing his confusion. “It was just a game. How far are you going to take this? If it were you kissing someone else because of a game, I wouldn't care at all.”

He was so bold because Xiao knew how conventional F/N was. But before he could finish, the noise from the other side suddenly grew louder; Kinich had drawn the most daring card of the night: 'Take any girl here and spend the night with her.'

The room fell silent when Kinich looked straight at F/N, everyone stunned as they watched him slowly walk over to her and extend his hand and asked, 'Want to give it a try with me tonight?”

Xiao narrowed his eyes at Kinich, smiling as he warned, “If you're drunk, I'll have someone send you home. Kinich, this is my girlfriend.”

Kinich glanced at him nonchalantly, “So, it's just a game. Xiao. Don't be a sore loser.”

Xiao reminded calm, “Why would I be? My girlfriend is too conservative. She wouldn't agree to this, so I'll refuse for her.”

But in the next second, F/N placed her hand on Kinich's palm. “Okay.”

The smile froze on Xiao's face as Kinich pulled F/N up and led her towards the door and leaving gasps and exclamations in the room behind them.

“Stop.” Xiao's voice was the loudest among them. He was still sitting in the booth. In a causal tone, he mocked, “I just wanted to say, let me know which hotel you book and I'll bring you guys some condoms.”

F/N spoke before Kinich could, smiling brightly, “No need, I'm on the Pill. Still worrying about your ex-girlfriend's hotel plans after a breakup? Isn't that a bit too much, Xiao? Sorry,” she looked at him with pity. “I don't like simps.”

Before Xiao's face could darken, she grabbed Kinich and walked out of the door.

It wasn't until F/N was seated in Kinich's car that she finally exhaled deeply, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. With the frustration vanishing, she politely thanked Kinich, “Thank you for helping me out today. Just drop me off at the subway station up ahead.”

“Do you know the consequences of lying to them?” Kinich reminded.

F/N shook her head, before opening her phone to check what the group chat had said: the group leader had laid the 'Forever Poor' penalty for everyone who lied.

“Get out.” Kinich pulled up at the subway entrance. “It's only a lifetime of poverty. What do you mean?” he frowned when F/N stopped him from opening the car door.

“I want to sleep with you.” F/N blurted out.

“But I don't.” Kinich refuted.

“Sorry,” F/N slowly nodded. “I think I drunk too much. I'll be going then.”

Kinich, however, locked the car door and started the car without a word, steadily speeding up.

Eventually, Kinich pulled up at a quiet bar. “Don't forget, just because we have to spend the night together doesn't mean it has to involve anything inappropriate to keep the agreement.”

F/N immediately got out of the car and followed Kinich inside one of his old haunts.

A call from an unknown number quickly grabbed F/N's attention after Kinich vanished. On the other end, she could hear Xiao and Lumine chatting.

“Xiao, why aren't you calling your girlfriend?” Lumine asked. “Aren't you worried she might cheat on you?”

“Don't I know how old-fashioned she is?” Xiao snorted. “it's just something she said out of spite. She's probably already back in her dorm, asleep.”

Lumine giggled, “But seeing how calm you are, it doesn't seem like you care much about her.”

“It's not that I'm that into her.” Xiao answered after a brief silence and F/N angrily ended the call.

Just then, the cocktail F/N ordered arrived and she took a big gulp.

The waiter froze in panic, “Miss, that drink is the wrong one. That was a special mix our boss made from himself.” leaving his tray on the next table, he dashed upstairs in the direction Kinich had gone.

“F/N, how are you feeling?” Kinich leaned down close to her, his cool hand pressing against her cheek.

“So refreshing.” F/N mumbled, contentedly leaning into him and nuzzling closer.

Kinich bit back a sigh as he watched the drunken F/N jump off the barstool and stumble towards the exit, before catching her in his arms as she was about to fall over.

When F/N came to her senses, she found herself in a hotel room upstairs being held by Kinich who had stripped off his shirt and leaving him in a pair of gray drawstring sweatpants. He leaned lazily on the sofa, staring at her coldly. “Come here.”

F/N mutely shuffled over to him and Kinich rested his hands on her waist. He pressed the back of her head and took control; he pried F/N's mouth open for an open-mouth kiss.

Things between Kinich and F/N were heating up when F/N's phone rang at an inconvenient time.

Kinich glanced at the Caller ID and picked up the phone.

Xiao's voice came through, calm but urgent. “F/N, where are you right now? Your room-mate told me you didn't' return to your dorm. Who are you with?”

“Calling at this hour?” Kinich answered dismissively. “Are you planning to drop off some condoms for us?”

“More.” F/N moaned.

Kinich chuckled, “I'll give it to you later.”

Xiao was uncharacteristically agitated. “Kinich, you know how much I like F/N, yet you still touched her. You're no brother of mine.”

Kinich, still on speaker phone, tossed the phone aside and casually agreed with Xiao, “We're not anymore; not brothers anymore.”

F/N was getting annoyed by Xiao's blabbering and snatched her phone to end the call.

The next morning when F/N woke up, Kinich was already gone. She sat up in the bed, knowing what happened the previous night was only a one-time accident.

When F/N saw Xiao standing outside her dormitory, she wasn't surprised at all.

“F/N,” Xiao walked up to her, his tone softer than usual. “I've deleted all of Lumine's contact information and I'll keep my distance from her from now on. Let's just pretend what we said about breaking up yesterday never happened.”

After a pause, F/N asked, perplexed, “Aren't you bothered by what Kinich and I did last night?”

“Stop pretending, F/N.” Xiao flicked her forehead. “I already know nothing happened between you and Kinich last night. But you did trick me. I was frantically looking for you all night. So, we're even now.”

“I told you we were breaking up.” F/N pushed Xiao away. “Can you stop bothering me? Just stay away from me and go back to your dear Lumine.”

Kinich pulled F/N into an empty classroom during break and lifted her onto the desk. “Didn't see this coming,” he glared at her coldly. “You're quite the troublemaker. Who taught you that? Kiss and run without taking responsibility? You left without a word after spending the night. I didn't expect you to dislike me so much. To the point you wouldn't answer my calls and messages; just to distance yourself from me.”

At this point, F/N realized there was a misunderstanding. “I don't dislike you.” her voice softened. “I woke up and saw you weren't there, so I thought you left. My phone was off the entire time. I forgot to turn it back on. I didn't ignore you on purpose.”

Kinich then explained that he had gone out to buy F/N breakfast and had already sent a message on WeTalk, but she didn't see it because her phone was off. “So,” he smirked mischievously. “You'll take responsibility for me.”

F/N meekly nodded.

“I don' t want you to misunderstand and think I'm only doing this out of obligation.” Kinich continued. “Let me make it clear: I like you, since a long time ago.”

As finals approached, F/N was already stressed from cramming.

Focused on her notes under the large tree in the campus yard, she suddenly noticed a looming shadow on the pages of her notebook. She looked up and was met by Kinich's hand holding a plastic cup of iced coffee pressing on her cheek.

Xiao was also standing on F/N's other side, his face expressionless.

Kinich causally walked over, blocking Xiao's view.

Xiao stared at him and issued a final ultimatum “Kinich, this doesn't concern you. I'm talking to F/N. You two didn't leave the bar that night. You stayed there the whole time. You better not tell me you two did it in a private room at the bar. Wouldn't that be disgusting?”

F/N dusted herself off, stood up and stepped out from behind Kinich. “How did you know we went to the bar again? Xiao, were you following us?”

“Do I have that much time?” Xiao's smile grew colder. He pulled out the chat records from the small group within the club he was in charge off. As it turned out, one of the group members lived near that quiet bar and had seen Kinich's car while going home and posted it on the group chat. The next morning, seeing that the car hadn't moved and given the image Kinich had built over the last three years, they assumed Kinich and F/N had spent the night at the bar to fulfil the dare.

Xiao put away his phone, his gaze shifting between the two. “Kinich, if you really slept with my girlfriend, I'll make you regret it.”

“Xiao, stop this madness.” F/N stepped in. “I'll say it one last time: I broke up with you that night at the bar.”

Kinich moved in, taunting Xiao with a provocative smile. “It wasn't me who slept with her; it was her who slept with me. What right do you have to question me?” he snarled, pulling Xiao close by the collar. “If you hadn't done those despicable things, would she have left you?” with a heavy kick to Xiao's chest, Kinich looked down at the yellow-eyed man in disdain. “I'm really puzzled. What makes you so confident that no matter how badly you behave, she would never leave you?”

“He's so weak.” F/N scoffed, walking away with Kinich. “I must've been blind to have dated him.”

Ever since that night at the bar, Lumine had been walking around with a glowing smile, looking like someone deeply in love.

But one day, as Kinich and F/N were leaving campus, they ran into her and it was clear she had been crying.

“Kinich, are you and F/N together now?” Lumine sniffled.

“Is that any of your business?” Kinich asked in return.

“I just want to warn you.” Lumine forced a smile. “You might not even know what kind of person F/N is. Don't let her fool you.”

“So, you're the one who knows me best?” F/N fired back.

Lumine, furious and humiliated, growled, “F/N, shut up.”

“I actually do know you better than I know F/N.” Kinich cut Lumine off and looked at her thoughtfully. “Homewrecker? Third wheel? How would you like me to address you?”

Lumine's face flushed red and then pale, before storming off in anger.

A/N: My second Kinich post to entice him to come home. Darn that Dendro Ben 10 for still dodging me.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x reader #cheater xiao x lumine #kinich x reader #kinich x female reader #xiao #lumine #genshin angst #xiao x reader #xiao x female reader

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huntinglove · 3 months ago

Text

Undertale Headcanons!!

Shout out to @magical-batt for letting me go wild in our DMs so I could come up with all of these, ily bestie 🫂💙💙💙

Let me start off with my fave, of course!

Napstablook:

• Listens to everything, and I mean everything. Their playlist is incredibly random so they usually skip a bunch of songs until the right one pops up. They usually prefer music with mostly instrumental sections or calming melodies, it helps them feel less tense when they're by themselves

• Maladaptive daydreamer. When they need a break from their thoughts, they put on their headphones, choose a couple songs they like and let their mind go wherever it wants. It usually helps them revisit memories with a different view, as well as think of new music and life scenarios. It does, however, take up most of their days and usually ends up making them isolated from everyone else

• They don't necessarily need anything revolving around physical health, but it makes them feel more alive, so they actively choose to do it. Eating, drinking, sleeping, getting out of the house from time to time, and even allowing themselves to touch things and be touched by other people/monsters, they can feel and experience everything just fine

• Being raised by and around their cousins, they always believe that they're as loud as the other Blooks which, in turn, makes their voice extra quiet whenever they speak. They also space out their words so that they don't speak too fast, to make it easier for others to understand what they say

• Time and time again they try to find an empty spot to relax in, but they either get interrupted or someone's already at their usual spot. They like to stay in places where they can connect with their physical self a bit more, places with a lot of textures or different temperatures, it gets them out of their comfort zone by edging them into reality

• Their UnderNet profile has been flagged as a bot account by the moderators, because they haven't chosen a profile picture, banner or made any posts since their introduction to the site. It causes the application to automatically reject their friend requests towards other users, they are unaware of this and just believe that people are rejecting their requests on purpose

Toriel:

• Can concentrate better while eating snacks! She'd come up with responses to citizens' letters while eating some snails

• Always has some leftover flour on her clothes and fur, some monsters are intimidated by that because they assume it's dust

• Prefers to come up with bedtime stories instead of reading them! That way Chara and Asriel could relate to the characters on a personal level

• Greatly dislikes any type of shoes and socks, due to sensory issues

• Keeps her nails/claws trimmed and rounded so that she won't accidentally hurt anyone

Asgore:

• Has very sensitive horns so he has to wear a small crown, that won't accidentally touch or brush against them

• Pockets are always full of junk. Flower petals, candies (and wrappers), toy rings, bandaids, you name it!

• Needs glasses to read but absolutely refuses to wear them. Usually asks Undyne to help him read citizen letters because of it, she's not very good at it...

• Avoids being in the throne room unless necessary, he feels lonely in there. The echo whenever he hums or talks while in there makes him feel a deep sadness

• Nightmares. So many nightmares. It's what made him learn how to make tea in the first place, to help him out with anxiety and insomnia. He knows what he's done and he's never forgiven himself for it

Asriel:

• Gently headbutts people when he's upset as a way to say "stop that" or "can we go somewhere else" instead of using his words. He got the habit while he was very young and never really grew out of it

• Indecisive to the extreme, he loves a lot of things in a very intense way, it's impossible to make him pick a single one. Favorite color? He'll name as many as he can. Trying to order food? Hops through most of the menu...

• Struggles to grow fur below the neck, so he's always cold. Toriel has knit him many sweaters because of it, but he usually wears whichever ones match with Frisk or Chara

• Prefers to play pretend instead of using toys, he's imaginative and creative and way too scared to break expensive things that were gifted to him

• His ears are his comfort. If he's scared of something, he'll use them to cover his eyes. If he's upset, he'll pet and stroke them to sooth himself. If he's nervous he'll tug on them and have to physically make himself stop before it starts to hurt

Chara:

• Biter. They bite anything, anyone and everything they can, including themselves! They can't grow their nails or cuticles because of it, which makes their fingers be constantly wrapped in bandages. Their toys and pens' only difference to Asriel's are the bite marks and chewed up plastic

• Had a large human family and was pretty much neglected because most of their siblings were young and needed their parents' full attention. Plays a bit rough with Asriel but never actually means to hurt him and feels horrible if it happens

• Insanely curious and adventurous, if it were up to them they'd have check under every rock, over each of the cave's walls and all over the Underground for anything new to see and learn about.

• Picky eater and hypermobile! They had a hard time getting used to monster food and would usually request meals that Toriel hadn't even heard about. Allergic to cinnamon and would end up sneezing for hours because of it. Loves to show Asriel cool tricks by bending their body in ways that most people can't, he'd either find it super cool or super scary

• Was mentally ill at a young age. They were overly suspicious of the Dremurrs for a long time, made up the name Chara when Asriel introduced himself, but got attached to it as they felt more at home within the Underground. They've dealt with depression for as long as they could remember and didn't feel like they deserved their new home

Flowey:

(yes he's Asriel but he wasn't acting like himself)

• Incredibly uncomfortable with his own body and how limited it feels most of the time, still maintaining some of his own characteristics, he's always cold and can't soothe himself with his fluffy ears

• He was potted and brought home by Toriel one time. He was very snappy and ended up hurting Toriel during an argument, he ran away and Toriel hasn't tried to bring him back ever since. He has never forgiven himself for making his mom cry

• Visits Waterfall quite often, specifically because of the echo flowers, in the hopes that one of his previous conversations with Chara or his parents will still be there, somehow. He met Papyrus there and he genuinely saw him as a friend, but his bitterness and guilt drove them apart

• Oscillates between extreme guilt and pure resentment very quickly. It's hard for him to tell where his blame begins and ends, which makes him mad at everyone AND himself a lot of the time. He doesn't need sunlight to feed himself but it's the most isolated part of the Underground, so he always stays at the entrance of the mountain

• He has a hard time entertaining himself or falling asleep, so he usually stalks random monsters to distract himself. He's read through all the journals at the Book Acres, heard every gossip there is and spent hours on end watching the Ice Wolf at Snowdin

Napstabot:

• They didn't really understand the appeal of a body until they actively began craving someone's touch. They were very nervous to ask Alphys and Mettaton for help, out of fear of judgement, but the two were absolutely ecstatic about it

• They made a folder with reference images of what they'd like their robot body to look like and Alphys checked in with them with each design decision until everything was perfect for them, they were very happy about how the final product turned out

• It took them a while to learn how to walk and how to adjust their voice speakers, but but other than that they were incredibly comfortable with their body, even if they were a bit more conscious about being perceived by others because of it

• Mettaton took them shopping for clothes and shoes to match their new style and they found out that they're a huge fan of hoodies and sneakers. If they're feeling fancy they'll wear pants and shirts as well! Jeans are more stylish but they prefer black sweatpants

• Out of all physical experiences they've had, their favorites so far have been: cheek rubs, hair playing, hand holding, kisses and hugging. When they feel too tired to be physical, they'll have their ghost form exit the robotic shell and just relax while it's on charge

Mettaton:

• Having a physical form makes him euphoric in of itself, so he doesn't care about wearing dresses, skirts, or anything that may be considered "feminine" or "girly" by others. He's comfort in his own skin AND he looks good in all the outfits he wears and he absolutely knows it

• Loud and proud about his transition and identity, he wants anyone else in the Underground who may feel the way he felt to know there's hope and time! He gifted one of his fans the dress he wore during a play because he resonated with her but didn't want to tell her she was a trans woman bluntly

• Writes all his own movies and songs but usually has Alphys direct things if other actors are involved, both because he trusts her and because he doesn't want to lose his temper and mess up the MTT brand name. He always includes an inside joke in his movies, for his family and for his friends who are keeping an eye on the screen!

• Loves his EX body the most but usually sticks with box mode when he needs more heavy duty presentations or work, he knows Alphys wouldn't mind (or charge him for) fixing him up, but he doesn't like taking up too much of her time, especially considering that they're quite close and hang out quite a bit as it is

• During the design process for his EX design, him and Alphys binged A LOT of animes and basically scrapped up a bunch of characteristics he liked about multiple of the characters to build him the perfect appearance. He cried for a long time when he first got into his EX body, he finally felt and looked like himself, just like he had always dreamed of

Mad Mew Mew:

• Short temper and extremely protective of her family and friends, but when thanked for looking out for them she'll act pouty and scoff, pretending to not know what they're talking about. She cares, but raging is her main priority

• LOVES everything pink, shiny, frilly and doll-like, it brings her euphoria and comfort. Battling also gives her euphoria, being able to experience touch, hits and even slashes in her own skin reminds her of her physical existence in a fairly positive (and dangerous) light

• Has a bunch of chew necklaces for when she feels pent up but doesn't actually want to fight or hurt anyone, most of them match with her outfits and are super sturdy to the touch! She has also trained herself out of cursing via echolalia, using "mew~" instead!

• Can and will hide weapons within the layers of her skirt, not in a way to be sexual, but as a way to be tactical and to surprise her opponents. She has also stocked up on knives since her encounter with Frisk, just in case

• Loves spending time with her cousins but acts like a tsundere when they're near. They absolutely know it's all an act and enjoy her company regardless of her sassy attitude. She gives hugs strong enough to crack ribs and bend metal, which usually worry Mettaton a bit...

Sans:

• Very in tune with his magical abilities, in and out of combat. He's mastered teleportation and time manipulation, which makes him extremely intimidating to those aware of his capabilities, which is why he's only demonstrated it to Frisk. They may be his friend, but the fact that they're a human will always be his priority

• Him and Papyrus are twins, and Sans is older by just a few minutes. When he feels like making Papyrus slightly grumpy he playfully calls him "little bro" but he'd never do it to actually upset him. He doesn't remember much from before moving into Snowdin, nor does he care to reconnect with his past

• Even though he's not religious, he feels a special and divine connection with dogs, for some reason. He also doesn't mind how fluffy and warm they are, so he always welcomes them to his home and work stations, much to Papyrus' demise

• He has a lot of junk in his room, usually he mixes a bunch of it up for some random inventions, or to make some harmless prank material by himself, since he's not found a lot of stores who still do tabs, knowing his infamous habits of never paying said tabs...

• Magically strong, physically weak. Sans rarely has the energy to take proper care of himself, let alone do chores or keep up with Papyrus' energy. Life in the Underground is comfortable enough for him and he's not desperate for a change in scenery or for a new flame of hope, he's happy to sit back and settle with what he's got

Papyrus:

• Can't sit still for the life of him. He always needs to fidget with something, especially his clothes, he needs to make sure he looks presentable so crinkles and smudges are a no-go! If he's just sitting down, hell usually be tapping his feet or bouncing one of his legs, he doesn't notice himself doing it

• His scarf was originally a cape that he had made for his costume, but he kept on tripping over it and getting it caught on things while trying to set up his puzzles so he decided to just cut out a chunk of it. He uses said chunk as a dish rag now

• He's read every book in Snowdin's library and knows a lot about humans (from a monster's perspective) and he genuinely believes that there are no bad humans, just bad capturers. Also finds humans incredibly cute, like one would a pet

• It's incredibly hard to get him to be genuinely upset, but a nice way to do it would be to hurt Sans. He has no idea about his brother's capabilities so he assumes he's weak and lazy, so depending on what someone did to his brother they'd either get a scolding, or some terrifying attacks that no one knew he could conjure

• He likes to do multiple things at the same time, so he'll usually be working on crosswords, word finders and so on while MTT TV is on. Sometimes the storyline gets interesting enough for him to drop whatever else he's doing and focus on the show instead, he's especially fond of soap operas and quizzes!

Undyne:

• Loves doing tricks with her spears! She can spin them, juggle them and balance them on her tongue! She's gotten hit in the face with them quite a few times, while practicing said tricks, the only monster who knows about it is the dummy in front of her house, but they don't judge her

• Her job essentially forced her to lose her sleep schedule entirely. She always has to be prepared in case the king calls her into duty, especially if it's about the appearance of a human. Because of that she is a very light sleeper and usually wakes up with a nasty temper

• She's always looking for ways to increase her resistance and even tried to train in the Hotlands a couple of times, but she never made it past the bridge until her chase with Frisk. She has gotten herself sick multiple times by training with Papyrus at Snowdin without wearing armor, for resilience's sake

• She's lost her parents to one of the previous humans who came to the Underground, because of that she sees Asgore as a father figure! They've both spent countless nights talking to one another and learning about thselves while on look-out. He trained her into a powerful warrior and loved her into the (fish)woman she is

• She loves anime, especially the ones that have to do with magical girls! She enjoys shonen but doesn't understand why most of it centers around guys and makes girls out to be weak or cowardly, so magical girls have a soft spot in her heart. She knows it would be terribly impractical but she'd really love to have a suit of armor that resembled the ones in Fisher Sun!

Alphys:

• She has lots of comfort foods stocked away at her home and laboratory, all of which are fairly quick easy to make! She can cook full and proper meals, but she doesn't usually have enough time for it because of her job. She misses baking and cooking for herself and potential friends/guests

• She has given up most of her hobbies for her work life and only got into anime after becomg the royal scientist! It's a hobbie that works with her profession and that allows her mind to wander off to better places when she has to deal with questionable procedures...

• She feels awful about the amalgamations, even if the experimentations were consented to. She feels too much guilt to be able to contact their families about what happened, leaving their letters unopened. Sometimes she spends the night at the lab to keep them company, finding herself comfortably tucked into one of the medical beds when she wakes up in the morning

• Her tail is semi-prehensible and she sometimes uses it to stop herself from knocking something over while turning too quickly. The spikes on it can poke out further if she feels threatened or angry. It also expresses her emotions, wagging if she's happy, excited or enamored!!

• Mettaton has given her a few tips on how to gain some confidence and helped her choose outfits and glasses that value her body and face shape properly, it makes her feel pretty but she still struggles with her self esteem and confidence a lot of the time

Muffet:

• A wonderful boss, all of her spiderling employees are very well paid and have many benefits to working under her wing! It also explains why her baked goods are so expensive, considering the amount of workers she's taking care of

• Her pet was a result of one of Alphys' experimentations, it escaped the laboratory when it was still very small and ended up growing exponentially as it was fed and taken care of by Muffet. It's a grumpy creature to anyone who isn't an arachnid, constantly pampered and spoiled rotten by it's owner

• All of her merchandise is home made, which means that some of her first few batches were highly poisonous and dangerous to ingest. It took her a few tries to get the recipes just right, bringing immediate relief and delight to her customers and venomous employees

• She really cares about her appearance and can take hours on end to style her hair and paint her claws, especially considering the extra pairs of arms! She doesn't enjoy lipstick, mainly because it doesn't frame her lips properly, because of her fangs and overbite

• The rest of her family consists of Mafia members, which she's completely clueless about! She genuinely believes that their shops, storages and laundromats are legitimate companies and aspires to make her bakery as profitable as their "establishments"

#✯ undead ramblings #❥ a ghost and a half #Undertale #napstablook #toriel #asgore #asriel #chara #flowey #mettaton #mad mew mew #sans #papyrus #undyne #alphys #muffet #proship #profic #op is a proshipper

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