#behold this self indulgent thing

[helluvapoison]

Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

The improvement in alhaitham and kaveh’s relationship post-parade of providence is TANGIBLE!!! I’ll talk about things of note from cyno's story quest 2 before posting my deep diving into what this all means for them <3

Firstly, kaveh’s appearance in the tavern being to pick up his order of wine, only to show his parting from the traveller, to ask lambad whether his order includes ‘the coffee beans’ – which is a direct reference to his 2023 bday letter in which he and alhaitham test coffee beans together for his birthday, and now, canonically, this can be observed as a common practice for the two of them – this is symbolic of domesticity, as the two only do this outside of the player’s sight, confined to the privacy of their home.

Alhaitham’s introduction within this quest is waking the traveller up (to which they ignore haikaveh and honestly, valid) due to their discovery of the temple of silence – and I think this is a little self-indulgent on my part, but I think it’s Interesting that tighnari mentions that the tent paimon picks is prone to being stumbled into by ‘sleepwalking fungi’, which prompts cyno to encourage the traveller to safeguard their tent with a weapon. Paimon comments on the improbability they will be attacked or woken up by uninvited guests, and lo and behold, haikaveh turn up – implying they are the sleepwalking fungi? it’s reminiscent of alhaitham’s story quest where alhaitham questions if kaveh would devolve into a fungus, to which kaveh replies he would be a fungus with empathy… if this is at all deliberate, it’s a really cute parallel!!

The completely unnecessary flashback scene in haikaveh’s house, it’s purely there to showcase the development of their relationship - there was no need to animate something that could have been exposition?

(The scene is established with alhaitham reading a book with kaveh offscreen preparing snacks and wine for the two of them, and when kaveh enters, alhaitham puts the book down and directly engages with kaveh’s conversation with a CRIMINAL smile on his face. Kaveh continues the conversation whilst sitting on the table, which shows his comfort and familiarity within the house? With alhaitham? This is also heightened when he leans back on the table during the conversation. Alhaitham is shown thinking about the case and kaveh offers to draw the emblem on the paper of the extortion letter – when kaveh turns his back to do so, their conversation is halted, and only then does alhaitham bring out the book again, but there is a deliberate still on his face as he looks UP from his book to look at kaveh sketching? There was no need for this.!!.>!!!

When kaveh returns to show alhaitham the sketch, the book is gone again, and the previous distance between them is closed – kaveh sits on the table in front of alhaitham, and this creates an intimacy as the two directly face each other. this couldn’t have been established solely by sitting next to each other on the divan. Alhaitham smiles at the sketch and notes that he recognises it, to which kaveh smiles(!!!) at and questions this. Alhaitham recognises the ARCHITECTURAL signets within the symbol, which not only relates back to their joint thesis but also their character concepts as mirrors, as alhaitham appropriates kaveh’s architecture, and kaveh has appropriated alhaitham’s language – which suggests a balance between the two.)

Alhaitham and kaveh working together to identify the emblem to be that of the temple of silence acts as the catalyst for the chain of events within the story quest

Kaveh quipping at alhaitham keeping the salary of the acting grand sage – but with no animosity behind it!??? his last expression during this dialogue honestly looks exasperated but in a fond way…. Im ill….

Alhaitham and kaveh looking at each other when discussing how the case doesn’t make sense… just alhaitham and kaveh looking at each other and deliberating over the other’s thoughts… finally… listening to each other and working together…

The additional (HIDDEN) scene in the house of daena where they begin researching, with alhaitham commenting that he will look for texts pertaining to the temple of silence, to which kaveh says it will take too long, and then agreeing to help alhaitham, without alhaitham having to ask, which demonstrates their improved synergy. Kaveh asks alhaitham how to teach him in gaining information on the sly, to which alhaitham DOES but teases him about it at the same time, but so fondly... I would say this scene mirrors the additional scene in the archon quest, with kaveh talking to alhaitham by the bookshelves and accusing him of stirring trouble in sumeru, while alhaitham appears bitter that kaveh was in the desert during the overturning of the sages. There is a distinct shift in their relationship here – in the past, the two missed an opportunity to work together, whereas here they are voluntarily banding together (which ive discussed here)

COFFEE MENTION 2! Alhaitham mentions how he wants to drink coffee, to which kaveh laments that he wasn’t able to bring any from home. When using nahida’s skill on them, alhaitham can be seen thinking about wanting coffee,,, and then kaveh is thinking about how to get to coffee to them by using mehrak. Even their thoughts are working in tandem??? This contrasts with their individual thoughts in alhaitham’s story quest, where kaveh is thinking about how alhaitham was being vindictive towards kaveh drunkenly writing on the bulletin boards, and labelling alhaitham as having ‘terrible thoughts’, all the while alhaitham is thinking about how dusty the bookshelves are… the progress is STARTLING

When the group reconvene in the house of daena, alhaitham and kaveh have progressed their research on their own accord and based on what naphis has told them. When explaining, the two complete each other’s sentences, and this rounds off with alhaitham conjecturing that the goal of the assailant was to get cyrus to see the letter, which makes kaveh realise cyno’s motivations, and for alhaitham then to ascertain cyrus’s whereabouts. Naphis then assigns alhaitham and kaveh to be in charge of the house of daena, to which they both agree, and alhaitham… smiles? With so much pride? WE GET IT YOU’RE WORKING TOGETHER!!!! SHUT!!!

Cyno and tighnari mention TWICE how essential it is that kaveh and alhaitham worked together, with mentioning how imperative it was that kaveh spotted the emblem and that alhaitham connected it to the temple of silence, and then how alhaitham gave tighnari advice on desert cultural traditions, which aligned with kaveh’s experiences with desert tribes, which gives tighnari the idea to turn the tables on the temple of silence

Returning to the house of daena, cyno highlights that it is STRANGE that kaveh and alhaitham are working together, in that he is surprised to see them studying together? This draws further attention to the unlikeliness of the situation, and that this MEANS something in regard to their relationship!

Kaveh stressing about having to pack away their copious research materials, only for alhaitham to reassure him that there’s ‘no rush’… so gentle

Cyno and tighnari thanking alhaitham and kaveh for WORKING TOGETHER as it allowed them to find a swift and good outcome

COFFEE MENTION 3! Cyno offering to take everyone for coffee, which alhaitham agrees to, and kaveh agreeing to, although he says that because of the last few days, he’ll order something different (confirming that alhaitham has the caffeine tolerance of a tank and kaveh gets caffeine jitters thank u @ hoyo). On the table the two were studying, two trays of a pair of coffee cups and coffee brewers can be seen… the same that can be seen in their house??? Meaning they brought their domesticity to the library with them… and they also sat across from each other, which reminds me of how kaveh sat in front of alhaitham in their house, rather than next to him…

Kaveh and alhaitham sitting next to each other in the café <333

KAVEH CALLING THE HOUSE ‘HOME’ TO ALHAITHAM??? IN FRONT OF THEIR FRIENDS?? This is a big contrast to kaveh in a parade of providence and alhaitham’s story quest who hated to having admit such a thing. And then alhaitham AGREEING that the house is ‘HOME’, and again their thoughts align with ‘my thoughts exactly’. Alhaitham and kaveh leaving together, to the house of daena (where they met, where it ended, and where they have been shown to bond together in this quest) and then back to their shared ‘home’... oh......

from this, kaveh no longer seems defensive or reserved in front of alhaitham, and makes no notion of criticising alhaitham, offering to help alhaitham into researching, and even asking alhaitham to teach him something he deems as a useful skill which he lacks. he openly takes onboard alhaitham's views on the case and responds in kind in order to come to a resolution. he actively makes time in his day to spend with alhaitham, seen in them enjoying snacks/wine/coffee together and talking about his day. he describes the house they share as a 'home', which, for kaveh, is imperative to his character due to his loss of family (which ive posted about here)

alhaitham, similarly, is less critical of kaveh, and this is because a seemingly resolved miscommunication between them. he is receptive to, and encourages, kaveh to communicate with him when it comes to things that kaveh believes to be noteworthy, actively focussing solely on kaveh, rather than his book, when kaveh initiates conversation. he equally seems to enjoy this time spent with kaveh, as he is seen nowhere else but by kaveh's side during this story quest, wanting (kaveh's) coffee within the library which would establish a familiar and domestic setting elsewhere outside of their home. when leaving his group of friends at puspa's, saying that it's him 'done for the day', he retreats with kaveh, back to their shared 'home'

overall, alhaitham and kaveh's relationship has improved VASTLY since their first interaction in the archon quest. there seems to be an understanding between them now and this results in comfort and familiarity where they used to be miscommunication and snipes, and there appears to be a balancing of their viewpoints as they appreciate in the other what was once viewed as mirror opposites never to align, being that of language and architecture. a sense of harmony(?) balance(?) has been established here, and this is shown to be the ideal course of their reconciliation. im so weak......

[hyunebunx]

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

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iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[voxmortuus]

I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)

This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.

I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?

►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.

"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.

He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.

Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?

He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.

The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.

Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.

"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.

Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.

"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.

The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.

Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.

With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.

[lingering-nomad]

Seeing ppl complain that Astarion's non-evil-vampire-lord sex scene is fade-to-black while his evil overlord sex scene is... more explicit.

😕🙄🤦‍♀️

I know your average socmed user doesn't get metaphor, especially visual metaphor, but the depth of the media literacy crisis we are in will never cease to horrify me. Hope springs eternal, though, so lemme try to 'splain you the thing.

The use of the fade vs the active scene is fucking brilliant cinematography. It fades to black when Astarion fucks "on his own terms" because he is not performing for an audience anymore. He says in that scene that if he completed the ritual, he'd be trapped in the same grasp for power as Cazador was - "trapped" being the operative word. That's why his evil overlord scene doesn't fade. He's still performing, he's still playing a role, he's still looking for an audience to impress with his newfound might. That's why that scene is performed for an audience, i.e. the viewer.

I said ppl who play BG3 as a dating sim were going to walk away disappointed, and lo and behold. You wanted steamy vampire porn and got a thoughtful, insightful narrative about autonomy and freedom versus power and spectacle. Like... I'm sorry Astarion has his own story of self-actualization that doesn't revolve around him lusting after you your oc?? I understand it's a strain to be confronted with a narrative that expects the viewer to engage and think instead of being mindlessly indulged.

Yeah, you're mad cos you didn't get your rocks off, but to start accusing the writers of "misogyny"?? Really? We're going there?

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Svt as specific tropes cuz I am in a writer's block

a/n: these are purely personal opinions/ imagines. not proofread!

Scoups: enemies to lovers (I'm talking dagger to the throat enemies to "who hurt you" pipeline. scoups and his competitive petty ass would be perfect with an equally competitive and hot-headed oc. I'm talking sizzling chemistry, extreme frustration to tooth-rotting fluff)

Jeonghan: Frenemies to angst to friends to lovers (light-hearted frenemies until one day Jeonghan takes the joke a little too far which leads to angst and years of no-contact. A chance encounter during lowest times leading to a soft adult friendship evolving to a soft and chaotic lovers pipeline)

Joshua: strangers to comfort person to lover (he gives me a feel-good coming of age feels so I'll take a storyline with the heartbroken or worn down oc finding comfort in Shua who could be a stranger or a kind colleague. a full "we helped heal each other" and then moving away due to circumstances only to realise that you need your comfort person)

Jun: holiday romance (nana tour Jun vibes. two strangers in a random city who decide to spend a week having the utmost fun and never meet again... but of course fate brings them together and the angst of reality to eventually finding a balance in the paradise of their holiday whirlwind and reality... it's giving romcom)

Woozi: Best Friends pining for decades (A very soulmate-ish friendship. Woozi and oc are so extremely obvious about their feelings but are oblivious to the reciprocation- it's also obvious to everyone around them. The angst of "what-ifs", and ofcourse songs written abt the feelings, to angry confessions and happy endings. this one includes a lotttt of angst and dozens of bangers mixed with peak domestic behaviour and two ppl so attuned to each other like old married couples)

Hoshi: Accidental dance partners Hoshi and oc (might sound basic but I'm a dancer and it's a very indulgent trope... so yeah! I'm thinking college team dancers in competing teams are forced to pair up for a competition. Out-of-the-world chemistry- can't keep eyes and hands off each other, late night talks, "non-date" date nights and ofc anger issues(performers, duh!). Lots of parties, angst and eventually confessing. She falls first but he falls harder)

Wonwoo: second-chance romance (I think Wonwoo, I think angst(sorry wonu) and second chance. oc and wonu having whirlwind honeymoon phase until oc pushes him away. lots and lots of angst- confused wonu not knowing how to help oc. both of them miserable without the other... until Wonwoo can't take it anymore and makes oc lean on him for support. very gray and grounded in reality romance)

Dokyeom: Small-town romance (sunshine Lee Seokmin as a charming small-town business owner helping big-city-return troubled oc deal with life and falling in love? sign me up for the hallmark movie! Seokmin and his golden best boy smile healing hearts as always)

Mingyu: Arranged Marriage Trope (once again, a very self-indulgent imagination...Oc who doesn't believe in love after a heartbreak, Mingyu who accepted his destiny and never loved anyone. A very practical arranged marriage with both consenting parties. An agreement to stay "partners" and "friends" because they "Can't force feelings". Domestic life leads them to break every rule- written and unwritten... angst rising due to pasts and insecurity... oc's fear of abandonment, Mingyu's fear of attachment... a minor separation and major realisation... their very own happy ending at last! Mingyu Best Husband Agenda forever)

Minghao: Rival Artists with secret identities dating each other (Minghao dates the pretty stranger on a dating app, agree to keep things casual but lo behold they are falling fast and hard... all is well except both have secret identities as artists who are rivals. they love each other but hate the other's alter-ego... ofc this leads to miscommunication and angst, lost ways and breakups. but this is my imagination so they end up together after everything and conquer the art world)

Seungkwan: Celebrity Fake dating trope (Seungkwan would eat that shit up! Two A-list celebs: Seungkwan and oc, who appear together in a show and fans go crazy for their chemistry but they don't pay head. oc gets caught in a false accusation, needs a distraction- agencies make oc and Seungkwan fake date... on-camera they r perfect but off-cam it's all awkward... planned appearances to becoming friends, trauma bonding... sexual tension rises, life gets complicated, lots of angst later they end up dating happily)

Vernon: Falling without meeting each other (two online friends, fake names but authentic friendship across continents fall for each other without ever meeting other. against all odds they end up seeing each other eventually and staying together... this gives me old cinema vibes but in modern times, Vernon is so Vernon that only he'd be fitting)

Dino: High school fake dating (imagine Dino as Peter Kavinsky from To All The Boys I've Loved Before... a popular softie boy agreeing to fake date the silent girl, the only twist is Dino has been in love with her since middle school, he fell first and harder- a full simp! Very romcom coded angst and happy endings ofc- i just know Dino will make a perfect romcom male lead)

[ianthedebonair]

What would Wei say? (🔞choices below the cut)

➡️"So can you make multiple copies of me here?"

➡️"How about you make a bunch of other Damiens?"

*Links above lead to gratuitous, self-indulgent smut. Definitely not safe for work.

Behold, the fruit of the bashful Chen poll. It was meant to be a single pinup-like illustration, but one thing led to another (and with valuable inspiration from @ladyshivs and @extreme-neutral), it ended up as another choose your own smut 😌😌.

(Also, reblogs are disabled on the linked posts. So, if you’re planning to, reblog this one instead 🫣)

[catulhu333]

Khaine and Khorne being directly stated to be the same

While this is an often discussed theory, or that the two are at least closely connected, and many hints of it in lore/fluff, there are at least two instances in canon were this was directly stated. First one is very old, from the 1988 article "Witch Elves!" in White Dwarf #108: "The Kryrnaa are an ancient order, founded during the early dark days of the building of Naggarond. They had turned from the worship of Slaanesh soon after their exile from the Elven Kingdoms, and, still drawn by the allure of Chaos, took the murderous Khaine as their new Master. For many centuries the Krynaa were a secret order, their name heard only in the whisperings of dark passages, but their numbers slowly grew. And as the Krynaa increased in strength, there came the inevitable conflict with the Dru Perim. For Khaine is that aspect of the Blood God recognised by the Druchii, and the Blood God, known to other races as Khorne, is the sworn enemy of Slaanesh."

The second time, is much newer excerpt, from 2006's Liber Chaotica:

"Of Pleasure And Rage

Behold! For I speak to you from the Shadows - the Great Darkness, that gives meaning to all Light. At the heart of this Realm, shrouded and unclear, stands the Powers of Chaos, locked in each other's embrace, hated lovers and eternal companions.

These Four are like points upon a compass - none are close and some are opposite. War and Pleasure are two such opposites, facing each other across eternity, hating and warring, two ideals seperated by an impassable gulf of Belief and Purpose. For Khorne is discipline, hardness, suffering and rage, while Slaanesh is indulgence, beauty, ecstasy and lust. Their opposition is carved upon the knucklebones of fate and conflict can be their only recourse.

Yet how mightier is Khorne than his delight-filled sibling! Oldest of gods and greatest of warriors, Khorne's armies stretch from infinity to infinity to infinity and the Pleasure God may not rival Him. But this was not always so. For in the days when the Slaanesh, Last Born and Most Beautiful, strove for existence, His power waxed stronger than all other gods, be they seperate or together, and it seemed as though His spiteful triumph would destroy the Balance in the Warp.

But as is ever the case, Khorne was there to stem the flow of Delight. He saw the growth of His youngest sibling, and hated Him even before his birth. With His mighty arms, Khorne sought to crush the life from Slaanesh before He had even left His womb, but the war god had not counted on the passion of Slaanesh's creators, and the harder He squeezed the greater the pressure became to drive His arms apart.

The war god fought on. He sought to give all mortals time to bring an end to their corrupting decadence - the decadence that fed the nascent Power that was Slaanesh. But mortals are weak as gods are not, and though some used the time bought for them by Khorne to learn from their wicked ways, many others did not and sank ever deeper into indolence and debauchery.

Slaanesh's tempermental screams and self-tormenting nightmares echoed through the Aethyr, and insanity bloomed on every world. Terrible storms raged throughout Heaven and Hell, and rains of fire lashed across Khorne's back, but His grip ever stayed firm around His embryonic sibling. Freezing winds tore at His face and floods of poison crept up His legs, yet still the War God would not let go.

Then His brother came upon the scene. Decay stood there beside War.

"Give up," sighed Father Nurgle. "Give into what must be. It is the nature of things that morals decay and cultures must rot. Mortals cannot leave their destined path."

Khorne turned away from His brother and grasped His wrists all the tighter. Then a gust of coloured light brought there to the brothers the Changer of Ways, and Tzeentch gazed upon the War God with amusement and disdain.

"End this," he hissed. "For it must come to pass. Change is the constant that cannot be changed. We Three must be Four, so the Game has demanded. Be it now, be it later, our sibling must come."

But Khorne would have none of it. He rorared His fury until the universe shook, and the foundations of All That Is, All That Was, and All That Shall Be, threatened to crumble. His brothers left Him then, one with a sigh and one with a chuckle, for both knew that the ending was close.

Upon the Mortal Plane the wars had all ceased. All morals and laws had rotted away, and the change to conceit was almost done. The Three wavered as decadence took hold, and Slaanesh expanded beyond size and beyond measure. But Khorne, unable to see defeat, hung on to His charge though his arms were bent back and His body near-crushed. Then with a scream of release that ripped through the Warp, Slaanesh threw off His eldest brother and burst into being.

Such was the Event of Slaanesh's birth, the metal body that had contained Khorne's essence since He had slain Khaelis Ra, shattered into a thousand pieces that scattered across the dimensions. But though His soul had been freed from its silver prison, Khorne had not the strength to strike a counter blow against exultant Slaanesh, and so the Pleasure God was left to reap the souls of His mortal creators and set His Throne alongside those of His brothers. So it was that the Three became Four and the Eternal Pantheon was complete.

From whenever 'then' was, until wherever 'now' is, the gods have continued their unending dance, twirling each other through the minds and souls of mortals. First one leads and then another, each keeping step in this pavane of peril, a stately measure played out to the beating of human hearts.

None of these powers can ever truly win against its brothers, for, as the Great Conspirator did say, it is the nature of things that change is the only constant - and nowhere is this more true than within the shadow place that is Chaos.

Yet still the gods dance and their bellows of delight shake the universe.

from the 'Liber Maleficarum'. Restricted distribution 2405- I.C. by order of K. M. Eisel, Witch Hunter Captain"

(written down by Dreadnautilus on reddit, as the fragment was in handwriting in Liber Chaotica).

As seen in the fragment describes Khorne fighting and destroying K(h)aelis Ra (the Nightbringer), exactly like Khaine was described in lore from the same period (the short story, and in-universe Eldar myth "The Birth of Fear"). And being, or rather Khaine/Khorne's shell being shattered by Slaanesh.

Does it mean Khorne and Khaine are the same? Not necessarily. Even the fluff from Liber Chaotica implies they are no longer the same, being split by Slaanesh. It's also hard to tell if this fluff/lore is canon, especially seeing multiple elements from the White Dwarf #108 were directly retconned. Still, it does show there were instances were the two gods of war and blood were stated to be same.

combined artworks of Khaine by Jes Goodwin and Khorne by Ian Miller

[yinora-evergreen]

"i wanna be your boyfriend..."

OR, the 3 times Trevor wanted to ask you out, and the one time he did

pairing: Trevor Spengler x gn! reader

a/n: this song came on my playlist, and i got inspired and just had to write this, totally self indulgent, but feel free to request something if this is to your liking! reader is related to Ray Stantz, but you can imagine for yourself if its adopted or not. this is kinda short and idk what to think of it, but i hope you guys enjoy <3

song this is based on: i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks (highly recommend listening to it while reading bc why not)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trevor, oh Trevor, he fell, and he fell hard.

you two first met when he came to visit Ray's Occult Books store, where you happened to be too. you were just helping your uncle place some actual books on supernatural things in the store when Trevor came walking in.

its safe to say he was quick to be enchanted by you.

"h-hey! i'm Trevor, and you are?" he introduced himself, stumbling over his words ever so slightly.

"i'm [name]" there it was, the start of your 'friend'ship.

the first time he really thought about asking you out, was when you hung out for the first time, one on one, no Phoebe, or Podcast, or Lucky, or even Ray, just you and him in his room, listening to music while talking.

"...and that's why it's my favorite movie!" you finish excitedly, you two were talking about favorite movies, yet all he could do is look at you, a dreamy look in his eyes as he admired you. if he wasn't carefull, he would've slipped out the question right as you stopped talking.

the second time he almost asked you out, was right as you were hanging out in his room when a ghost was spotted and the alarms went off in the firehouse, which meant he had a ghost to bust.

"sorry! but i really gotta go real quick, i promise we can keep hanging out after i come back, meanwhile you can finish this bag of cheetos!" he says as i rushes to get downstairs to put on his ghostbusters suit and grab his photon pack, but the moment he turned around to grab it, you were already holding out to him.

"goodluck!" oh, if Trevor believed in heaven, he swore your smile would be part of it.

the third time, he actually tried, when Phoebe interrupted.

"so, [name], i was actually wondering-" he couldn't even finish his sentence when low and behold, his sister practically came crashing in to ask you to play chess with her.

"hey [name]! do you wanna play chess with me?" she asks with a grin.

"i'll be there in a few, you can put up the board, okay?" you say with an equally excited grin.

once she walks away, you turn back to Trevor.

"what were you saying?" "...nothing..."

this time, he didnt let anything stop him.

you actually started offering help with the ghostbusting deal- or rather, he and his family finally accepted your help- which meant you were over to their place a lot more often than at first.

you stayed for dinner atleast three times a week, and even spent the night a time or two before.

this time though, he was going to actually ask you out for an icecream date, he swore it to himself.

"hey [name]" he greets you as he walks into his bedroom, where you were already sitting.

"hey Trev!" you reply cheerfully.

"will you go out on a date with me?" he blurts out bluntly, his face instantly flushing and he averts his eyes to everywhere but you.

"seriously? ofcourse!" you reply with a grin, walking over to him and pecking his cheek.

[itoshiexx]

behold: the end of the world is near.

synopsis: rin feels you slipping through his fingertips every time you fight, and he's sure he won't survive the heartbreak when you inevitably leave.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 532 | warnings: established relationship, angst, rin is overthinking and hating himself, this is 100% self indulgent and honestly just word vomit

notes: it’s 3 am, i’ve just cried like a madman and spilled all my pain in this drabble. wrote on my phone so sorry for any mistakes and lack of format. will edit soon.

fighting with you always felt like the end of the world to rin.

when the little daily arguments started to gather into a huge snowball and ultimately become a serious conversation, with some accusations, some screaming and throwing some stuff on each other’s faces, all rin could think of was: this is it. this is the moment they leave forever.

he was no stranger to being left. he was no stranger to the piercing pain that came along with it, too; but somehow, rin knew that it would be a thousand times worse when it came to you.

he knew that if you left, he would never be able to recover from the heartbreak. the love he harbored for you in his strongly guarded heart would spill and consume everything inside of him like a scorching flame, until there was nothing left but the bitter taste of ashes.

he would never breathe the same. he wouldn’t see the world in its full colors, hues and brightness. there would be no point for him anymore, because itoshi rin was certain that the sole purpose of his soul was to love and be loved by yours — and although his love would be eternal no matter what, he knew damn well yours could end at any minute.

in those stupid fights, you could see all of his flaws and idiot mistakes. all of the things he could have — should have — done; all of the ways he should have tried harder and been better. in every word traded between you two, his imperfections would show, and make way to the abnormal abyss inside of him that always devoured any chance of happiness he could possibly have.

he wasn’t meant to be happy. rin knew he was way too broken to live a content life with a love as beautiful as yours. and every bone in his body ached with the awareness that being by your side was a paradise he didn’t deserve.

and no matter how much he tried, he could hardly understand what he felt, why he acted the way he did and how he could fix everything wrong in him to match with your perfection.

one day, you would see just how wrong itoshi rin was for you — or anyone, for that matter, because in this lifetime and the next there would only ever be you for him. and when this day came, you would leave without looking back, grateful for getting rid of such a burden like him, who was holding you back from giving your love to someone that could retribute like you deserved.

and on this dreadful day, the song of the apocalypse would play on repeat in his head until his ears bled and his skin became dust without your love flowing through his veins. amongst the burning sensation of being left behind, once again, because he was too much and not enough at the same time, despair would swallow him whole until he was just a pile of sorrow and regret.

itoshi rin was no stranger to loneliness, but being without you would mean being alone with no one but himself. and that would be the end for him.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[mappingthesky]

ONE SHOT SNIPPET FOR WIP WEDNESDAY?? WOULD WE BE SO BLESSED??

you would be indeed!! behold: a snippet from an upcoming one shot (if you remember my halloween-themed snippet, this is from the same fic as that)

It turns out Jane wasn’t entirely lying when she’d said she was fluent in three languages. She speaks Russian, English, and a secret language that only Nymphia can understand.

Nymphia can decipher Jane’s riddles with ease. I hate everyone really means everyone hurts my fucking feelings; I don’t care is closer to I care so much that it fucking hurts; I’m going to kill myself is interchangeable with I need to get laid and binge watch reality tv until my brain turns off.

There are times where Nymphia really thinks they can read each other’s minds. There are times when Jane is on the phone with her mother, and it doesn’t matter that everything sounds angry in Russian, because she just knows Jane is angry anyway. There are times when Jane is talking and Nymphia almost responds to her in Mandarin. It’s a force of habit, but it’s also because she thinks Jane would understand her somehow, that whatever it is between them transcends language and words and verbiage. There are times when Nymphia says something so Nymphia that she half expects Jane to puzzle over it like anyone else would. I know what you mean, she’ll say, and Nymphia totally believes her.

"Is it bad that I kinda get Hedonism?” Jane says one day after class. They’re walking across the commons, and the last dregs of late summer have given way to fall. “I mean, maybe not the whole at-everyone-else’s-expense thing, unless they really deserve it. In which case, fuck ‘em. But, really, what’s so bad about getting what you want?”

It’s the sort of outlandishly self-indulgent statement that wouldn’t go over well in their in-class discussions, but Nymphia hears what Jane is really saying:

My whole life is wanting. I want so desperately that it consumes me. Is it so terrible to want things?

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Nymphia says. “I think you should have everything you’ve ever wanted, Jane.”

Jane misses a step. She pauses and the wind picks up her dark hair, whirling it away from her face. She stares back at Nymphia with this floored expression, all blown out pupils and parted lips, blinking a few times like she’s waking up from a dream.

“What?” Nymphia tilts her head. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” Jane says, mesmerized, like she’s seeing magic. Soft, secret, spoken in a voice that only Nymphia knows, “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

[thistlecatfics]

The Picture of Sirius Black by @lynxindisguise (34k, wolfstar, M)

But none were so awed as Sirius himself, beholding his reflection not in a mirror but through Remus Lupin’s eyes. Standing–an occasionally pacing restlessly—in the frame was more than a coldly handsome lordling, but a lively beauty with a distinctly clever expression. “What are you staring at?” his painted counterpart mocked playfully. *** A Dorian Gray AU in which Dumbledore encourages Sirius to indulge his baser impulses and desires... of the murderous variety.

There's something that feels truly special about this fic and the way that it weaves in canon themes and Wilde's themes and the evolution and possibility of queer joy. As someone who has a Thing for works where the worst parts of ourselves are seen and loved anyway this stabbed me in the gut in a good way. From my comment:

oh my god!!!! this fic is so amazing. WOW WOW WOW. I'm just amazed at your ability to integrate the original story with canon! (peter!!! voldemort!! harry!!) the little details! the characterization! monsters in love! having someone see the worst parts of you and loving you anyway!!!! tbh I want Oscar to be able to travel forward in time and read this version and see a hopeful queer future.

the madness within!!!

I love that you let sirius act genuinely terribly. I could see someone trying to soften him to make him more likable but that's not the point!! so much brilliance here. I loveeeee his unreliable and self-justifying POV. I'm in love with this fic, and I'm obsessed with how you managed the ending.

and I love Dumbledore here! I'm super picky about dumbledore portrayals (I find evil!dumbledore exceptionally boring), but you strike such a perfect balance of morally grey and kind of terrible and hurting others AND also for the greater good and not necessarily forcing anyone into doing anything - just setting up conditions.

fucking incredible. going to rec this fic forever.

For @hprecfest

[tokoyamisstuff]

Vocem Virtutis

Lat. "voice of virtue"

Prequel to Incursio Infernalis, but can be read as standalone story.

18+ | 5k. words | Alexander Anderson x f! Reader | slow burn

Summary: Unbeknownst to you, the only thing standing between Anderson and his madness is the bond you formed.

Warnings: Mental illness, violent thoughts, masturbation, slight voice kink, injury, blood, fabricated backstory, they're both so in denial it is aggravating

Heretics. All of them.

It was far past midnight when the Paladin walked aimlessly around the estate, low growls deteriorating into manic laughter.

Anderson always knew he was just as much of a monster as those he had sworn to exterminate.

Born in sin by vile excuses of human beings, doomed to suffer unspeakable from his very first breath. That was probably the reason why he is so adamant to help children in need, and also why seeing people indulge in impure habits makes him see red.

Much to his luck however he was always a force of nature, massive in size and muscle even before the genetic enhancement - resilient despite the circumstances and at some point able to fend for himself.

When the time came that he was surrendered to the orphanage, there was nothing left but a sociopath with an unquenchable thirst for violence.

Not able to escape his past, he carried a darkness inside of him that was almost impossible to contain. A bloodlust that, if not contained, could be catastrophal for people in his vincinity.

But he did not want to hurt innocents the way it was done to him.

Anderson found solace in his faith. Discipline and self-restraint were obligatory, attributes he desperately needed to contain this wicked part of his soul.

The nuns at the orphanage drilled their ideals and ways into his head from a very young age, channeling his wrath into a direction that was beneficial - thus effectively turning him into the Vatican's bloodhound.

They convinced him that god doesn't make mistakes, that his creation is always flawless, and that everyone - including himself - exists for a reason. The thought was a consolation for the young lad he once was.

Yes, he is a necessary evil, his unholy purpose to fight evil even worse than mankind. And so he found an outlet for this erratic need to destroy.

But that doesnt change what he was, and during peaceful nights like this was one, his patience grew dangerously thin.

It has been weeks since he's last been on a mission, and controlling this overwhelming power becoming more and more of an impossible task. His whole body was burning like a witch on the pyre, muscles aching for the thrill to tear something apart.

Subconsciously, he is already searching for a victim. The slightest mistake, the most trivial overstepping would be punished severely...

...and then he found you.

Faint moonlight illuminated the hallways as you cradled an infant in your arms, quietly lulling it back to sleep. It was a sight to behold, accentuated with your balmy voice managing to calm his erratic nerves.

Without being aware of it, you spared someone an unnecessary gruesome demise.

You gasped when you notice something shuffle in the shadows, not expecting anyone to be up at this hour. But your expression visibly relaxed when you recognized the face of the Paladin.

"Apologies, dear. I did not mean to startle you." He was quick to put on the harmless facade, hands crossed behind his back as he greeted you. "What a wonderful song that was. You should join the choir at our mass."

"O-oh. Good evening, Father" you stutter as his imposing figure towers over you, nervous under his scrutiny. "I hope I did not disturb your rest?"

"Not at all." The man gifted you a polite smile and your lips mirror his. "I barely need sleep. Just making my rounds to assure everything is safe."

You chant in acknowledgement before tending to the baby again, softly patting it's back as it let out a whine. "Who's that lil' fella? A new addition to the flock?"

"It's a boy" you explain, "Doesn't have a name yet. I think he's colicky, but I am new to...well...this."

If only Maxwell had someone so nurturing care for him back in the day, then the boy wouldn't be half as miserable.

Well, he's one to talk...

The assassin made a gesture with his hand, signalizing you to hand the child over to him. You hesitate, not wanting to give up on the task already, but surrender for the baby's sake.

"You're humble, that is good" he preaches, "But the nuns told me you are doing splendid. You're a great help and the children love you very much already."

You watch as he coos sweet affirmations towards the infant, easily settling it stomach first onto his forearm. "One of the perks of being tall" he jokes and you chuckle along. It's an adorable sight, a behemoth like him handling a newborn with so much care. "Remember this technique, it's very helpful."

"Thank you very much, Father" you cheer, practically beaming up at him as you both watch the child drift into a sweet slumber.

As he hands you the child back, you could've sworn his hands linger on yours for a little longer than necessary. "Well then, lass, I bid you a good night-"

"Wait!" you exclaim, lowering your voice as you remembered that everyone else was sleeping. "I just...I'll tuck the baby in, and...maybe we share some tea?"

Anderson quirks a brow at the unexpected suggestion. He could've sworn you avoided him like the pest ever since he freed you from that Vampire's lair two months ago. Got the sentiment, though. He was a frightening person in general, and seeing him so unhinged was certainly not a very good first impression.

But knowing that rest is unlikely for him he chooses your company over his humble bedroom any time. "Aye, then we meet at the library. I'll prepare the rest."

Only ten minutes later you sit in the huge armchairs across each other, the fireplace heated and tea served. Even some sweet treats laid out on the table for you.

"You didn't have to go out of your way..." you murmur, hesistantly reaching for a bisquit.

"Well, it's not everyday that I get an invitation like this" he laughs in that deep tone of his, the cup comically small in his large hands. "So tell me, how have you adjusted?"

"Everyone is very kind" you note happily, "But it's a lot to learn." Truth be told, you were catholic only on paper. So you had to start gaining knowledge from ground zero.

"We all worked hard to fit into our role" he answers with wisdom, "And struggle is part of growth." He sees you clutch the cup harder, shuffle uncomfortably tense in your seat. "So...what did you really want to talk to me about?"

"I-I guess I never got the chance to thank you." Well that went in a completely different direction than he anticipated. "For saving me back then, and especially for offering me to stay. I don't know how I can ever repay you..."

Anderson sighed as he put down the cup. "God has saved you, lamb. I'm just his humble tool. And knowing you're thriving is all reward I need, really." He then looks down to your hands, worried as he saw them shaking ever so slightly. "If my presence makes you uncomfortable-"

"N-No! Of course not!" you cut him off immediately, saddened that your reaction caused a misunderstanding. "I'm just a lil' jittery still, because...seeing you, it just...brings back memories of that night."

"Take all the time you need to heal." He briefly puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder before retracting it and you're glad that he is so understanding. "But remember, the Vatican is one of the safest places in the entire world. And...you're part of my flock now, lamb. You're always protected."

"I know that, Father" you respond, "And I'm very grateful." Stirring the spoon in the empty cup, you timidly add "Say, if you're an insomniac like me, we could make this a habit? It was very helpful talking to you."

There was a long pause between your question and his answer.

For a moment he was contemplating to preach at you for even voicing this preposition, concerned for your intentions. But in the end, why not? This was a public space, and as long as it limits to innocent socializing, there was nothing forbidden about it.

This might be a routine worth implementing. A lesser evil surely, if it means keeping him from doing the things he's normally capable of when bored.

"I enjoyed myself as well" he admits, "Let's hope you get some sleep rather, but I'd be glad to see you again."

That aggreement soon evolved into a wonderful friendship, meeting up at the library whenever the two of you were unable to find rest. Which was quite often, mind you.

And the more you got to know about the unusual Paladin, the more he positively surprised you.

Anderson singlehandedly funded this entire orphanage, not keeping a single coin of his earnings to himself. He officially adopted every orphan himself, though it pained you to hear that some chosen individuals would be trained to join Iscariot if they come of age.

He knew everything about each child, spending basically his whole scarce free time caring for them. So even during the day you spend a lot of time together through teaching, everyday tasks, or taking them on trips.

Except for you, the children are the only ones that actively seek his presence. He admires that their spirits are still free of judgement, he once admitted. It seems like his opinion about himself was rather sombre as well, yet he kept any details to himself no matter how relentlessly you pried.

The nights you spent learning from him, oftentimes getting into arguments about how one interprets certain passages of the bible. Or going on strolls through the garden, starting to feel safe again even in the midst of the night.

It was especially enjoyable to listen to the astonishing stories about his everlasting battle against the supernatural. You'd always wait for him to return from each mission, no matter how late, and he figures this must be what it feels like to have a wife to come home to.

At least it's the closest he can get.

As hard to explain as it was, but Anderson actually felt a lot more human in your vincinity.

However it did not go unnoticed how close the two of you had gotten, apparent in how his gaze lingered on you during mass or the way you were drawn to each other, touching 'by accident' conspicuously often.

Were you even aware of this yourselves?

Though for a long time, no one dared to speak up or address the topic. Most were equal parts respecting and fearing the Judas Priest, the infamous Regenerator, God's Assassin. Others, like Maxwell for example, were too corrupt themselves to care whatever Anderson does during his free time as long as he fulfill his job.

If anything, he's glad not to have to hide any bodies anymore.

So you were absolutely flabbergasted when the Reverend Mother inquisitioned about your affilliations with the Paladin, to say the least. To her defenses, she knew him ever since childhood, and during her time at the order she witnessed countless fools starting to harbor indecent feelings for each other.

The two of you were an open book to her, one could say.

And even after assuring that the Priesr was on his best behavior, her warning left a carve in your relationship. "Anderson is a well-respected member of the order, and an exceptional warrior for our faith. I know he can be quite charming, but don't be fooled" she said, emphasizing every word. "Behind the mask there lies a deeply troubled individual, and I am worried for your safety."

Eventually, her words would soon be confirmed to be true when one night, he returned from a mission like so many times before - but this time, his demeanour had changed completely.

It was surely not the first time you saw him covered in red, always scolding him that the children might wake and see him this way.

Apprehension crept on you when you saw his broad shoulders having with every breath, and much to your horror you realized it was his own blood this time, pouring out from a gaping wound that reached from his chest to his stomach.

"Anderson!" you exclaimed as if you could physically feel his pain, a mystery to you how he could even stand upright right now. "Shit, what happened?"

"Language" he scolded you and if the situation wasn't so severe, you certainly would've laughed about his priorities. "We need to get you to the infirmary" you order, slipping your head under his arm to support him.

"This needs to be stitched. I already called for a doctor. Lay down." Anderson was amazed how you could keep a clear head all while tending to his wounds with such great skill, but he wasn't complaining.

"How's that even possible?" you utter under your breath, having offered the man a hand while you disinfected the cut. "Certain beings have unique abilities" he grids, flexing his fists in anger. "That bloody cunt...next time I'll make her choke on her own guts..."

You've never heard him talk like that before, but there wasn't much time to process his words since the pressure on your hand increases to a painful degree. And even while temporarily rendered powerless, he was still strong, inhumanly so. "Anderson, it hurts...Anderson!"

Luckily he snaps out of it before breaking your wirst like a twig, shocked with himself as he heard your pained whimpers. Both of you didn't even register the knock on the door, interrupting this moment much to your relief. "Y/N? The doctor you requested is he- uh, is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes, thank you" you urge the nun, "Send him in and go back to sleep." She didn't need to be told twice, glad to not be the subject of his wrath.

The medic didn't even have the chance to start his work, a bayonett pointed towards his throat as soon as he had entered the room. "Did I just catch you staring improper at this woman, you imbecile?!"

You want to protest, barely even having explained the situation to the doctor, but the Paladin continues his threats. "I'm sick and tired of this half-assed pretense you people call practicing our faith. I can turn you inside out anytime, so I wouldn't look at her again if you want to keep your head."

Anderson's expression was sinister, fists still balled so tightly that his gloves almost tear. He relentlessly cites bible verses to silence his head, but to no avail. Despite the possible danger, you softly grab his hand holding the blade, looking at him all doe-eyed until he'd surrender the weapon to you.

"Sing for me, would ya'" he asks out of the blue, and you immediately understand that he needs it to remain calm. You choose a religious song, of course, to remind him of his duties.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wrench like me

I once was lost, but now I found

Was blind, but now I see."

The poor doctor was sweating heavily during the whole process, the fact that you never left his side making it even more complicated for him. Anderson had closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your voice instead of the raging anger inside of him. He wouldn't even flinch as his flesh got poked again and again, and you wondered how much pain a person had to endure to reach this level of unresponsiveness.

"You should leave as long as he can still suppress his bloodlust" you tell the man contradictionary cheerful, "I'll wrap him up. Thank you very much." He flees the scene as fast as possible, leaving the two of you alone once again.

"That was unnecessary and cruel" you scold him as you apply several compresses. He just scoffs bitterly, stubbornly. "Oh please, I know an infidel when I see one" He mentally adds "...and that man was staring you down like a piece of meat." Probably more projection that anything.

"Is that so?" You refuse to look him in the eyes, instead busying yourself with the wound. "Would you have killed me too if you knew I wasn't practicing the religion back then?"

Your accusation send a pang of guilt straight to his chest. Just to imagine harming you makes him feel sick.

"...that's- you're different" he lies, knowing it was absolutely in his range of possibility. You internally groan at his ignorance and hypocrysy. He's such a blockhead sometimes, incorrigible in his ways.

"You're so filled with hatred that you forget the Lord's preachings about forgiveness and love" you state and he narrows his eyes at you. How dare you act like you know the holy script better than a literal priest, the one that teached you no less? "You better shut your mouth now, woman."

Unimpressed by his empty threat, you cross your arms in frustration. "Or else what, you're gonna stab me too?"

"Of...of course not" he mutters, hiding behind the reflection of his glasses as he turns his head away. But you cup his cheek with your hand, gently forcing him to look you into those damn enticing eyes of yours.

"M'sorry" Anderson finally said, unaware that he's leaning into your touch, the stubble of his beard tickling your palm. "I did not mean to scare ya'."

Placing one hand over his heart as you help him sit up, you claim "You could never."

Now that he finally became level-headed again, a tidal wave of shame washed over the Paladin. You were clearly a mess, unable to keep it together any longer now that he's out of danger. Seeing him like this made the flashbacks of your captivity re-emerge, eyes beginning to water as you blink back tears.

Anderson knew how people behaved around him after having seen behind the act. He expected you to flee, to never speak to him again unless necessary, maybe even asking to be relocated...

...but instead you wrap your arms around Anderson's bandaged thorso, sobbing heavily as you listen to his ragged heartbeat.

He's human after all. He does have a heart.

Just needed to make sure.

Both phsyically and mentally exhausted, Anderson put his head atop of yours, huffing quite irritated with himself. You were so small and fragile compared to him, so pure and precious. He cannot bear the possibility of getting you in harm's way. He needs to better himself.

For the Lord, for the orphanage, for you.

"Why did you stay?" he finds himself asking, practically having to tear himself away from your warmth. Shouldn't indulge into the feeling too much.

"Because I care for you, Father" you retort instantly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're working hard to protect us, and I'm thankful for that. I can't even imagine what sacrifices you had to make to turn out like this. But I'm sure you'll never hurt me...at least not intentionally."

He looks down to your wrist, already bruising in several colors, and tenderly lets his thumb ghost over it. "Still, that must've been frightening."

"Did you forget how we meet?" you snort way too carefree, "You basically slaughtered your way through ghouls while laughing like a madman. I always knew what you are, Anderson."

"...you got a kind heart, lamb." He resisted to press a kiss atop of your head, still hearing your feeble snivels. You got a different kind of strenght, one that makes you continue no matter the circumstances. He always admired this about you. "Thanks for leading me through these trying times."

"Just like you did for me." Anderson looks at you for a while longer, and he can't help but think your smile is one of god's greatest miracles.

From this day onwards, the bond you two shared grew even tighter.

Anderson was pleasantly surprised that your courage wasn't just pretend, since the way you acted towards him didn't change in the slightest - even after peeking behind his civilized mask.

What bothers him however is the fact that he cannot seem to stop thinking about you, even when you're far away. Each time he saw you his heart would hammer like a drum in his chest, and suddenly he would lose the ability to form any coherent words.

He must be sick, he thinks. But that was literally impossible. Cursed, maybe? Also no.

Actually, he knew exactly what was going on. He was celibate, usually not prone to affections. But then again, you were special - for better or worse.

So a challenge from god to test his resolve, it is.

You on the other hand were blissfuly unaware of the effect you had on him, though sometimes he felt like you're teasing him on purpose. He'd snap at your friendliness out of nowhere, but quickly apologizes as he can't bear to be the reason for your sadness.

"Hey, big guy" you tug on his coat and he finally looks down, looming over you while scowling. "Are you there?"

"Oi" he murmurs, "You're getting a lil' too comfortable, don'tcha think? I'm still an authorative figure."

You half-pout at his harsh tone, but he's probably right. At least in the public you should treat him with the respect a man of his rank deserves. "I'm sorry, Father..."

"It's fine." The Paladin pats your head to reassure you, yet his gaze always wanders back down to your lips, wondering if they're as soft as they look like-

No. Never. He can't.

"I am needed elsewhere" he frantically shakes his head, hurrying without looking back. "Take care, lamb."

Yes, you're but an innocent lamb for he is a dangerous predator. His soul is already doomed to limbo, but he needs to stay away for your own sake.

"What is his deal lately?" you wonder as you look after him, "Did I do something wrong?"

He behaves even stranger than usual. Barely talks, always buried in thought. Winces whenever you touch, as if he just burned himself on a stove - no, like he was just about to put his hand into hellfire itself.

Noticing the bruise that was currently healing stick out from your sleeve, you figure he must still feel bad about what happened. Ever since that night he seemed so distant, but it was obvious that something was eating him away.

Maybe he just needs more time to understand you accept him with all of his facets.

Anything but acknowledging what turmoil was going on in both your hearts, huh?

It wasn't until a few weeks later, after a particulary bad day, that Anderson would give in to his wish to see you. Another mission had gone south, and talking about it was probably a better way to vent than sticking his bayonett into some poor half-wit.

When he entered the library however, the room was dark and empty. Can't blame you after how he treated you formerly.

He opted to accept your offer to just knock at your door whenever he's in need - something a man of faith like himself would usually say to his believers. It was nice to be at the receiving end for a change, knowing a gentle soul like you wouldn't deny him your help even after he wronged you.

Only when he stood in front of your room he noticed the time - 1am already, middle of the might. You're probably asleep, he shouldn't bother you-

Shuffling from the inside, almost inaudible but not to his keen senses. So you're awake. Good. But just when he was about to knock, the sound of muffled moans reached his ears.

Oh.

Ohhh.

Well, you aren't at fault here. You were raised by heathens, never teached properly. He should leave - no, kick in your door and tell you that this is unacceptable. Or should he tell the nuns to have a talk between women? But then he'd have to explain why he was there in the first place.

"An-der-son...mhh...plea-ah!"

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like a hammer right to his forehead. He fled the scene in an instant, already feeling guilty for eavesdropping, but the sound of your voice moaning his name continued to echo in his head.

"Fuck" he groaned, cupping his erection through his pants as he laid stiffly on his bed. It's been three cold showers but he was still rock hard, and slowly bur steadily his rationality made space for something more primal. He grips the sheets tight, feverishly trying to keep himself from committing a grave mistake.

There certainly wouldn't be a way back once he gave in to those urges.

The church had ingrained to him that lust was something wrong and dirty. He remembers like it was yesterday that the nuns would regulary check whether his and the other children's hands stayed above their blankets all night.

It's been decades without this sinful deed and while yes, he is not immune to temptations, his will had always been stronger than his flesh.

Until now.

None of it was important to him at that moment. He was aching to be touched, no matter how.

With a shuddered breath he freed his cock from it's confines, a whimper he didn't even know he could vocalize escaping his throat. He fiercely grabs the shaft, the angry tip already red and leaking precum.

Anderson is rough with himself, a mixture of inexperience and shame rushing him to make things quick. His mind wanders back to the way you practically begged for him to fuck you, and he'd be lying if the said it was the first time he had entertained such thoughts.

As he strokes himself, his fantasies wander back and forth between sheer worship and concerning punishment, making path for another kind of obsession that would be even harder to overcome than his bloodlust.

He wants to kiss you. He wants to choke you.

He wants to explore every inch of your body. He wants to cover it in whips and bruises.

He wants to make you feel good. He wants to make you repent.

He wants to hear you moan. He wants to hear you scream and beg for forgiveness.

He wants you to never leave his side. He wants to kill you for doing this to him.

He wants to you to be his in every way possible.

He wants-

Anderson utters vile curses as he came, hips bucking into his flexed hand as he covered his fingers, thighs, stomach up to his chest in his spent.

After the waves of his intense orgasm ebbed down however, there is nothing left but emptiness.

He is exasperated, feeling a million things at once: Anger, confusion, shame, loneliness. He should be more worried to have betrayed his oath, but all he could think of is how painfully he misses your warmth.

He hugs his pillow as he mutely weeps himself to sleep.

Several months later, a few days before christmas eve, Anderson was called to an emergency as a demonic entity was causing mayhem at a nearby town.

Why did it have to be an Incubus of all godforsaken things?!

With everything that has been happening as of late, he was rather vulnerable to the fiend's powers. But he'd be damned to refuse an opportunity like that - especially since his mind couldn't conjure any believable excuse that wouldn't at least partially reveal his dirty little secret.

Cutting you out of his life had felt like removing a tumor, slowly corrupting him from the inside but still being a part of himself.

And it grew back even stronger.

The only times he allowed himself to be around you these days was when the orphans were present. He was civil but reserved towards you, and while you never quite understood what you did to deserve such treatment, you never dared asking either.

Deep inside you had a feeling what this was about, but there was nothing you could do or say to return things to how they have been between you.

There's lines one simply shouldn't cross.

Not that you ever intended to, you were happy as things were. But you both had stepped foot into dangerous territory, gradually overstepping the limits that were acceptable.

And truth be told, Anderson still did.

The fact that you were still so sweet and caring towards him despite all of his shortcomings, all the pain he had caused you, it was eating him alive.

And made it impossible for him to stay away.

At least from afar he would seek out your presence, lingering in the shadows or keeping watch over you from the security of his own room. Though he told himself it was just to assure your safety, he felt guilty each time certain urges would overcome him as he spied, becoming more and more depraved in his attempts to feel close to you.

Anderson rubs his temple as he prays the undignified thoughts away, grabbing the small worn-out bagpack he'd always take to missions with him. He sighs in selfy-pity, finding a box with christmas cookies inside. There's a post-it with your handwriting attached to it, something about how it's a present from the children rather than yourself.

What a convenient lie, he thinks.

He takes one out and treats himself, mentally preparing - rather about having to spend the holidays with you than the upcoming fight. But then the loud beeping on his cellphone tears him away from his thoughts, and he freezes as he sees the name on the display.

It was you. A video-call even. Bloody hell.

Now he was glad that you had showed him how to use this fancy new device, instantly shutting off his own camera to not let his guard down.

"Hello? Anderson?" The screen freezes due to bad connection, but eventually it works. You were wearing a santa-hat, one of the infants on your lap waving at him. He can't help but smile at the endearing sight. "Yes, I'm here" he says in a nonetheless harsh tone, "Take that ridiculous thing off of your head. It's blasphemic."

"Well..." quite timid, you rub the back of your head as you point to the baby. "He just has a hard time sleeping, that's all." It sounds like some cheap excuse to call, but he knows you're being genuine. "Calls out for his 'dada' all the time" you chuckle to cover up your hurt pride. After all, you're with the children 24/7 and yet they're way more attached to their beloved Paladin. "Thought seeing-" you stare at the black screen kind of disappointed, "...or hearing you might help him settle."

You overexaggeratedly roll your eyes at the man. "Oh c'mon, don't be such a kill-joy. It's for the kids!" Oh he's had it with you and your flowery nonsense. Last time you almost made him feel bad for some damn protestants, that's how good you were at defending your naivety. "And what'r ya' doing up this late?"

"I hope I didn't disturb you?" Your eyes widen in bewilderment for a fraction, lips forming an O. "Ye' weren't."

"He'll get used to it over time" Anderson states objectively, "You should've seen Maxwell when he was that age. Was carrying that lil' lad for years, clingy one he was."

"Seriously?" You smirk mischievously, having found something to tease your annoying superior with. "I will never let him live this down."

You surrender your phone to the young boy, smiling dreamily as you hear Anderson half-chant to him in that gruff voice of his until it stopped being entertaining for the child. "I'll try bringing him to bed now, but are you free after?"

Anderson pauses for a while. "You should really go to sleep, lamb. You're overworking yourself."

"Just a few minutes, I promise. I don't want to rob you off your well-deserved sleep either" you wink, not knowing he'd rather stay awake than to be haunted by you in his dreams. It takes you longer than anticipated, though, but Anderson was rooted on spot until you called once again. A mere voice-call this time. That's better, easier if he doesn't have to look at you.

"Thanks for waiting" you greet him, but he brushes it off. "Enough chitchat. What do you want?"

There's a crack in your voice at the sharpness of his words, at the edge with which he chooses to speak. "I...figured after all this time, I deserve an answer to why we've drifted apart."

Anderson lets out a short, ragged breath. "Are- are you alright?" you ask, and it somehow enrages him even more. Why are you continuing to make it so hard for him to do the right thing?! He huffs, voice gravely. "Ya neednt worry 'bouta wrench like me."

"And yet I do" you insist, voice a lot smaller when you ask "So, what did I do wrong?"

"I don't think you could ever do something wrong" he admits softer now, insides churning at the saddened crack in your voice. "Even if you wanted to."

"Then why-" Stopping yourself from saying something unwise, you bite your bottom lip. "I miss you, Father. That's all."

It takes everything in him not to whine at the statement, to break down and confess that you're actually the most important person in his entire life. "I miss you too, ya' know?"

He hears you choke on a sob and clutches the phone tighter, clearing his throat in hopes you don't notice how his own voice is wavering. "Really, dear, you did nothing wrong" he repeats, the nickname leaving his lips faster than his mind can catch up on. "I haven't been myself lately" the priest admits an almost-truth, "Thought you were better of without me burdening you."

"When you offered me to stay at the orphanage back in the day, you said the choice was mine. And now I choose you again." You're fully aware how wrong this sounds, but couldn't care less. "You don't have to go through everything alone, Anderson. Let me be at your side."

"I'm a complicated person, Y/N" he argues, dreading that this won't be the last time he'd deliberately hurt you. "Oh, I know that. That's why I like you, after all. You're authentic, and passionate, and have a kind heart. Isn't that all that counts?"

"...I will be done with my work soon, if everything goes as planned. Back home around midnight." You internally jubilate at his subtle compliance. "And I will be here waiting for you, of course."

Anderson's lips tug into a hopeful smile, shoving all concerns into a dark corner of his mind. Oh, how he's missed your voice, your benevolence, your everything. "Yeah, that would be great."

It's alright - the two of you would rather have each other platonic than not at all.

What could possibly go wrong?

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Thinking About Ascended!Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav)

A/N: To be clear, this would be an AU from the “canon” stuff I’ve been writing. In my version of events Evie is able to convince Astarion not to ascend. However, this absolutely disaster of a relationship won’t leave my brain. (Also if you’re curious about my thoughts of what would happen if Evie wasn’t able to convince Astarion not to ascended and refuses to help him let me know)

Warning: Heavy angst, isolation, emotional abuse, allusions to attempted suicide

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

It would be a decision made out of fear, not just from Astarion, but Evie as well

Astarion is too afraid to let go of the promise of power and the safety he feels that guarantees not just for him, but for Evie

And Evie in turn doesn’t want to lose him, if she says no he’ll hate her, he’ll leave and she’ll be alone all over again

Of course that means reverting back to her own worse self, the one willing to bend into whatever shape was required of her until she breaks

But she does help him and she does break

Some part of her recognizes the horror of her actions, but she buries it away because surely it’s worth it

Astarion offers to make her his forever and she takes it with both hands because the alternative is to face what she did and accept she just killed the man she loved; so she what she does best, she pretends it’s real

For a while it’s easy, Astarion makes good on his promise and better

He showers in her finery she would have never thought to dream of

No more going to bed hungry or cold

Astarion is always near and when he has to go, is never gone for long

The fact he starts to be the only one she sees hardly seems to matter

His grip on her only tightens

Even as the Ascended, Astarion knows Evie’s boundaries, he wouldn’t dare touch her in any way without her express permission; he’s not Cazador, he’s not a monster, he loves her

The problem is other people

He has enemies now, hundreds, possibly thousands, all of whom know how he adores his treasure

He has all the power in the world, but still there are those idiotic enough to try to get to him through her

And then there’s everybody else, the lords and minions he must associate himself with while he amasses more power

At first it seemed only right to have his treasure at his side, the better to keep an eye on her and make clear what was his

But oh how hands and eyes wander

He can’t blame her, he could never place the blame on her, his treasure is a wonder to behold

But who are they to think they can touch her

There are only so many times he can make good on his promise to pluck the eyes out of anyone who dares violate his love with their lecherous glances before it causes more problems than it solves

Better to keep her in the palace, some place he has full control over, safe and sound

But then again, everybody knows where the palace is, how can he be sure they won’t come pounding down the door and that’s not even taking account the servants

He’s not locking her up in some dungeon; he’s not Cazador

He commissions a tower, the entry to which only he knows

It’s beautiful and ornate, impenetrable and covered in magical seals and protections

The windows provide a beautiful view of the city with magical widows that become black in the daylight

Evie had a little accident a while ago, poor thing forgot to close the curtain before sunrise, she was so rattled, she seemed to hardly notice the burns

Also best to make sure the windows can’t be opened either or broken for that matter; can’t risk her having another accident and falling

She has a way of finding herself on high places; why she would want stand on the edge of the battlements is something he chooses not to indulge in

She’ll be safe there with all the comfort and beauty he can provide her

He’s not Cazador

There’s some part of Evie that can see what’s happening, who can feel herself slipping away, who wants to fight back, who wants to run to her friends and beg for their forgiveness, for their help, anything but it feels too late for that now

She made her bed and now she has to lie in it even if that means enduring the screams of 7,000 souls in her mind every time she closes her eyes, hands just as bloody as his

And then there’s Astarion who somewhere deep inside can only look on in horror, who watches his cruelty and selfishness and recognizes his master in every action

The one who sees his Evie fade into a ghost before his eyes and begs her to run, to leave and never look back because he’s killing her

He’d rip out his own throat if he could

But those are just stray thoughts, easily dismissed as remnants of the nothing he once was

Besides, none of this is forever, he and his treasure have eternity, plenty of time to allow his plans to come to fruition, an endless night where all who lie beneath it bend the knee to him and him alone

Then they’ll be safe, then nothing could touch them, then maybe they’ll be free

[roronoacherries]

We all know that Zoro would get along with someone interested in swords and all, but what if he was paired up with someone nearly the complete opposite of him? Shy, sweet, kind, nonviolent, maybe even a healer? I always find opposites attract stories quite sweet, like the gruff, cold guy paired up with the sweet and gentle girl! 😍

this is 10,000% the way i picture zoro's s/o, probably for self-indulgent reasons

but i have read a lot of fics that pair him with someone very similar to him, someone strong and bold and whatnot, and i can see that. it makes sense. but personally, i love writing him with someone gentle, sunny, and just generally loving s/o.

zoro is naturally protective of the people he cares about; the way i see it, you know zoro loves someone when he's willing to give anything to keep them safe. having a s/o who needs a little protecting, someone maybe a little klutzy, makes a lot of sense for him.

that doesn’t mean his s/o is entirely helpless, but he wouldn’t mind — and honestly, he’d kind of love — needing to keep a close eye on them, making sure they’re ok, safe and out of trouble. it gives him a sense of purpose. kind of like he's their knight in shining armor (and he'd absolutely treat them like royalty).

zoro loves through his actions and being able to protect the person he loves most makes that easy for him.

it’s especially true if his s/o is someone pure, and sweet, and full of joy. he’d want to do everything to make sure they never lost their light. he’d never allow any harm to come to them.

it’d be someone who can comfort him, ease his pain (physical and emotional), who reminds him that not everything has to be so serious. someone he can't help but smile around.

and he'd love to tease them, say things like

“can you do anything without me?”

“oi, wait for me. don’t want you getting lost, do we?”

the slightest hint of danger and he standing in front of them, hands on the hilts of his swords. it doesn't matter to him if they complain that they're capable of taking care of themselves; he knows that already, but he doesn't care.

and whether they're wounded after a fight or have a small paper cut, he's all over them. it's almost annoying sometimes, but the way his brows furrow with concern makes up for it.

and he loves having them tend to his wounds. there's nothing more soothing to him. feeling their gentle hands on his skin, carefully bandaging him up and scolding him for being so reckless, he thinks to himself, 'how could i not jump into danger for you?'

they'd keep him from picking fights (especially with sanji), but he'd fight their battles too, never able to bear letting anyone step over their kind heart.

it's a sight to behold, the way this brute will listen to anything his s/o has to say, doing anything they ask of him and letting himself be chastised like a child (a small smile tugging at his lips because all he can think is, 'they look so cute when they're mad').

and anyone would be amazed to see that when they're alone, zoro would be the one in their arms, regardless of whether they're smaller than him or not, allowing himself to feel safe and loved and cared for by someone else for a change.