#but i know they posted lies before. or rather they took things so out of context and slapped a label on the person who posted them -

[daz4i]

you ever see a callout post or w/e where it's like. yeah okay when i see these (hopefully not faked) screenshots i can see why you'd interpret it the way you did. BUT this is also like the worst possible way you could read it if you don't give op any benefit of a doubt because you already decided they're awful. like sometimes someone isn't evil they're just not good at phrasing themselves and if you dedicated even 30 more seconds to reread what they said without attaching your own expectations you will likely be way less angry about it

[wholoveseggs]

would you ever do a story like Y/N is at a bar and some guy wont stop flirting with her and Elijah sees it and gets mad?

Insatiable

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are at the club with the Mikaelsons, and your husband Elijah gets a little jealous when someone else hits on you.

♡♡ Thank you for the request sweet @nerdygamer829! I love writing possessive Elijah, and I would love to party with the Mikaelsons ♡♡

♡♡ Working on another fic i'll be posting tomorrow! Its a sweet domestic Elijah one ~xoxo ♡♡

3.9k words - Warnings: smuttt, possesive!elijah, dom!elijah, lots of drinking, drunk mikaelsons, drunk reader, public sex, rough sex, fingering, grinding, slight humiliation, exhibitionism, biting, blood drinking && dancing...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

Partying with the Mikaelsons was always a dangerous game, but one you would play on the regular. They were a fun group who could be a little wild in their partying ways, and if you weren't careful you would end up getting swept away with the craziness of the night.

Rebekah had convinced you to come out with them to a popular nightclub that was filled with sweaty bodies and the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume. She had been a bit mopey for a couple of days, having gotten into a fight with Marcel, so she decided a night out was just what she needed. When Klaus and Kol joined you both in the club, the night quickly devolved from there.

"Come on darling, drink up!" Klaus urged, handing you another shot of vodka.

You shook your head and held up a hand to refuse the drink. "Nope, I think I've had enough."

Klaus scoffed and shoved the drink into your hand. "Come now, sweetheart. I'll make sure you're not hungover, just have fun for once."

"You always say that, and I'm always hungover." You sighed, but then you proceeded to down the shot.

You winced as the alcohol burned the back of your throat and then slammed the empty glass down onto the counter. Klaus chuckled and shook his head at your pained expression. He signaled to the bartender for two more shots and handed you another, raising his own glass in a toast.

"To our night of debauchery." Klaus smirked, tipping his glass towards you before taking his shot.

You chuckled and then did the same. This time you managed to keep from making a face at the strong taste of the liquor. Rebekah came over and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, looking rather drunk. She was a giggly, happy drunk, and always wanted to dance.

"I love you, you know that right?" Rebekah said, leaning heavily on you.

You smiled and patted her arm. "Yeah, I know, I love you too, Rebekah."

"No, but … like … I really love you. You're the best thing that happened to my brother," she explained, nodding her head as she spoke.

Klaus and Kol snickered and Rebekah looked at them in confusion. "What? It's true! She is sooooo good for him. They're perfect for each other."

You rolled your eyes and took Rebekah's drink from her, making her frown. "Hey, I was drinking that."

"No more for you," you replied, giving her a stern look and handing it to Kol without even looking his way. He dutifully drank it back in one gulp and handed the empty glass to Klaus who shook his head and gave it to a random person walking by.

"Come on, let's dance, yeah?" you suggested, taking Rebekah's arm off your shoulder and dragging her to the dancefloor.

The two of you danced for a few songs until Rebekah got bored and went off to find some poor sucker to bite. You weren't really a fan of dancing alone, so you went looking for Klaus and Kol, but they were nowhere to be found. Eventually, you gave up and decided to head over to the bar for another drink.

You pushed through the throng of people and managed to get to the front. Leaning against the bar, you waved the bartender over and ordered a whiskey. You were really starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, your head buzzing and your movements a little slower than normal. You felt a warm hand on your lower back, you were about to turn and see who it was when the familiar voice of your husband sounded next to your ear.

"On me," he said to the bartender and the man nodded.

You looked over at Elijah and smiled. "You're late,"

Elijah took the drink from the bartender and handed it to you, leaning in to kiss you. "Just fashionably so."

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of the whiskey, relishing the burn as it went down your throat. Elijah wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, his hand settling on your hip. You looked up at him and smiled. He was so handsome, especially with the way the lights in the club cast shadows across his face and the way he was so casually dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

"You look good," you told him, placing a hand on his chest and looking up at him.

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you. "So do you. I don't think I've ever seen you in this dress before."

"It's Rebekah's, and she was determined I wear it," you replied, smoothing down the fabric that hugged your curves.

His dark eyes seemed to smolder as they roamed over your body, his hand sliding lower on your hip. He signaled the bartender for a drink of his own, keeping his other arm firmly around your waist, holding you close to his side. He was always so protective, especially in public. It was almost as if he was afraid someone would steal you away if he wasn't paying attention.

You finished your drink and set the glass down on the bar, leaning against Elijah's side and placing your hand on his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, and you looked forward to the end of the night without the barrier of clothing between the two of you. Elijah had only arrived moments before, and already your body was reacting to his presence.

Klaus and Kol had returned and joined the two of you at the bar, the three of them discussing something that you weren't really interested in. Elijah's hand stayed on your hip the whole time, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your skin. You could feel the alcohol flowing through your veins, making your skin hot and your head fuzzy. You wanted to dance again, but this time with your husband.

"Come on," you tugged at Elijah's shirt, trying to pull him towards the dancefloor.

"I'll meet you out there, just a moment," he replied, turning back to the conversation with his brothers.

You huffed and gave him a look. "I'll just go dance with Rebekah, then."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and smirked. You knew he wasn't a fan of the way people danced in clubs, he preferred something more formal, but you didn't care. You wanted to dance, and if he wasn't going to join you, then you'd just have to find someone else.

You made your way out to the dance floor, weaving through the throng of sweaty bodies. The music was loud, the bass thumping, and the air was thick with heat and lust. It was the perfect atmosphere for letting loose and having fun.

You couldn't find Rebekah, but you didn't let that stop you from moving your hips to the music. The alcohol made everything feel better, the sensations more intense, the beat of the music throbbing in your veins.

You felt a pair of hands on your hips, and you turned your head to see who it was. The guy was tall, with tattoos all over, his eyes raking over your body appreciatively. He smiled and began moving with you, his hands sliding up your sides, pulling you closer to him.

"You're gorgeous," he said in your ear.

You giggled, the alcohol making you more receptive than usual to a stranger's advances. His hands were firm and sure, and the way he moved his body was almost hypnotic. You felt yourself relaxing in his arms, allowing him to guide you as you danced.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Ohh that's a good question," you giggled again, feeling a little tipsy from all the alcohol you had consumed. "My friends call me (Y/N), but you can call me whatever you want."

The guy grinned, his eyes flashing with a predatory gleam. "(Y/N), huh? That's a pretty name."

You smiled, your head swimming with the buzz of alcohol. You were enjoying the attention, Elijah was always so busy lately that you rarely got any one on one time. You hadn't had sex in over a month, and the thought of it made your body ache with need.

The guy's hands wandered, sliding over your hips and ass, and you let him. He was attractive, and you were feeling reckless.

"Let me buy you a drink," he offered, his breath hot on your neck.

"Sure," you agreed, following him to the bar.

He ordered two shots of vodka, and you eagerly took yours. He chuckled and took his own, his eyes never leaving your face. He suddenly leaned in to kiss you, but you quickly deflected, turning your head so that his lips landed on your cheek instead.

You giggled nervously, feeling a little guilty for leading him on. "Sorry, I'm married,"

He didn't seem put off, smiling and shrugging. "So? I'm not going to tell."

You laughed and shook your head, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. You were a little flustered, and the alcohol was making your thoughts cloudy.

The guy placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in to speak in your ear. "Just one more drink, that's all I'm asking for."

This had gone a bit too far, and you were starting to get uncomfortable. "No, I'm sorry. I have to go,"

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it," he snapped, his hand tightening on your waist.

You pulled away from him, and his grip tightened, causing you to wince. He had switched up on you so fast, his tone and demeanor changing, and you knew you had to get away from him.

"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to pull away.

He refused to let go, his other hand moving to your ass, squeezing it roughly. You were getting angry now, and you were about to slap him across the face when your husband's voice sounded behind you.

"I suggest you let go of my wife, or else I will rip out your spine and beat you with it." Elijah growled, his hand coming down hard on the guy's wrist, breaking his hold on you.

The guy cursed, rubbing his wrist and backing up, holding his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, man, chill out. We were just having some fun."

Elijah grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, his eyes dark and full of fury. "You will never lay a hand on her again, is that understood?"

The guy nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear. Elijah released him, shoving him away roughly. You watched as the guy disappeared into the crowd, and then turned back to face your husband.

Elijah looked furious, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched tightly. He had clearly seen what happened, and he wasn't pleased. You were worried he was angry at you for being so reckless, and you braced yourself for a lecture.

Instead he took your hand and led you through the crowd, not quite sure where he was taking you. The club was big, with several floors, and a variety of rooms. He finally found a quiet area on the second floor, overlooking the dancefloor, and turned to face you.

He didn't say a word, he just grabbed you by your waist and pushed you against the wall. His lips were on yours in an instant, rough and demanding, a stark contrast to his usual gentle way with you. 

His hand slid down your leg and pulled it up to hook around his hip, pressing his hardening cock against you. He was really worked up, and you couldn't deny the way it made your body respond, a bolt of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"You're mine," he growled, grabbing your other leg and lifting you up, wrapping them around his hips.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, stroking the back of his neck to comfort him. "He... I... Just took it too far."

He nodded, a soft, possessive growl rumbling in his chest. "I saw you dancing, watching you grind against another man nearly drove me crazy."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark with lust. He was breathing heavily, his body pressed against yours, his hands holding you tightly, keeping you in place.

"I'm sorry, 'Lijah," you mumbled, trying to hide your smile.

His eyes narrowed, slowly smiling back at you. "You're not sorry at all."

He was right, you weren't sorry, not when his body was so close to yours, his hands all over you. He only behaved this way when you pushed his buttons in just the right way, and tonight you were happy to see his rough possessive side come out to play.

You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to look innocent. "No, not even a little bit,"

He smirked, shaking his head, his lips brushing over yours. "I know how much you like it when I show you who you belong to," he spoke softly, his hands sliding up your thighs pushing your dress up to expose your panties.

You shuddered, your heart racing in anticipation. "Yes, and tonight I think I really need a reminder."

He pressed his thumb against your clothed cunt, rubbing it in a slow, agonizing circle, making your toes curl. "We'll see how much you need to be reminded once I'm done with you,"

There was a dark promise in his eyes, and you couldn't wait to see what he had in store for you. He tore off your panties in one quick motion, stuffing them into his back pocket. His hand returned between your legs, finding your clit and circling it with agonizing slowness.

"Tell me, did he make you wet?" He asked, leaning in to suck on the flesh of your neck, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin.

"N-no..." you breathed, your hips bucking against his hand, trying to get more friction.

He chuckled at your desperation, his fingers sliding lower, "so this wet little pussy is all for me?"

"Just you," you whined, trying to keep quiet despite the throbbing need growing between your thighs.

He smirked, sliding a finger into your soaking cunt. You moaned, letting your head fall back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed. He continued to slowly finger fuck you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in a slow, firm circle.

"Please..." you whispered, your hips grinding against his hand.

"Please, what?" He asked, his voice a low growl.

"More," you breathed, unable to form complete sentences.

His hand went to your throat, squeezing lightly, his thumb resting on your pulse point. Your heart was racing, and your breath was coming in short gasps, your body aching for release. He added a second finger, his movements becoming faster, more urgent, his eyes never leaving your face.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with anticipation. Your hips moved in time with his fingers, your hands gripping his shoulders, holding yourself steady.

He suddenly pulled his hand away, your eyes snapping open at the loss of sensation. You were about to complain when he squeezed your throat again, harder this time. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his body flush with yours, using his hips to pin you against the wall.

He used his free hand to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out, smirking as you felt it press against your stomach. He didn't take his hand from your throat, merely used his grip to hold you in place.

You realized how exposed you both were, anyone could come up here, or look up from the dancefloor below and see your lewd display.

"Elijah... Wait, not here..."

"Not here?" He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Not here where anyone can see how desperate you are for me?"

Your face heated up at his words, and you looked away, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. He suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to

"Eli...," you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes, trying to convince him to stop, pressing your hands into his chest.

"That's what makes it so much fun," he smirked.

Your eyes went wide when you realized there was no changing his mind. He was determined to fuck you, right here in the club, where anyone could see and it was turning you on more than it should.

He could sense your unease mixed with your arousal, he kissed you, softer this time, but no less urgent.

"I won't let anything happen to you, my love," he whispered against your lips, his hands moving to grab your hips. "Now spread your legs."

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding, and then did as he asked. He lifted you up, his hands cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you moaned, your eyes closing as he eased into you.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his fangs scraping across your sensitive skin, his hips rocking slowly, pushing himself deeper inside of you. You could hear him breathing heavily, groaning softly as he filled you completely.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands clutching at his shoulders, his skin hot beneath your fingertips. His pace increased, his thrusts becoming more forceful, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. He was enjoying watching you struggle to stay silent, and the thrill of the possibility of being caught. And the way you clung to him, looking at him with desperation and lust. It was the most alive he had felt in a long time.

You could hear people coming down the hall, laughing and talking, and you froze.

"Elijah..." you breathed, panic in your eyes.

He placed his hand over your mouth, shushing you, his eyes focused on yours. He kept thrusting, his movements becoming rougher, his fingers digging into your ass.

"Do you want them to see how badly you need my cock? How you're practically begging me to fuck you harder?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes full of mischief.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head, your breath hitching in your throat. He continued his brutal pace, his body flush against yours, his hand still covering your mouth. You could feel his fangs scraping against your neck, his cock pounding into you, and you struggled to keep quiet.

The footsteps were closer, and you could hear their laughter echoing down the hall. If they saw the two of you like this, you'd be mortified.

Suddenly, he stopped, his hips stilling, his cock buried deep inside of you. You let out a soft, needy whine, desperate for more. He grinned, his hand leaving your mouth, moving to cup your cheek, his thumb running across your lips.

"Shhh," he whispered, his eyes flashing with amusement. "You don't want anyone to know what we're doing, do you?"

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath, your body trembling. The footsteps were fading now, the group moving on, and you let out a sigh of relief. He waited until the sound disappeared before he started fucking you again.

You gasped, your hands clinging to his shirt, your body aching with need. He held you tight, his hands gripping your ass, pulling you against him with each hard thrust. His lips were pressed against your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You felt his fangs scraping along your neck, then they sunk into your skin, piercing the flesh.

"Fuck, 'Lijah!" you gasped, your back arching, your toes curling as pain shot through your body.

The sting of his bite was sharp, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of intense pleasure. He growled against your skin, his hips moving faster, his cock driving into you deeper and harder, his movements frantic and wild.

He kept drinking from you, his body tense, his hands holding you tightly, his cock thrusting into you. He could feel his climax building, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his fangs from your neck, his tongue licking at the puncture wounds, his hands grabbing at your hips, pulling you closer.

His lips were bloody, his eyes black with lust, his fangs still barred. It was the most beautiful sight, seeing him like this, and knowing that you were the one who had driven him to the edge.

You grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, his mouth warm and soft. He tasted like blood and sex, and you wanted nothing more than to be completely consumed by him.

You felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your body shuddering, a soft cry escaping your lips. He groaned against your mouth, pressing his hips against yours as he came, his body trembling.

He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you struggling to catch your breath, your heart racing. He chuckled, pulling back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Well, that was unexpected," he said, a smirk on his lips.

"Definitely," you agreed, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face.

He chuckled again, his eyes full of warmth. He slowly pulled out of you and set you down, keeping his hands on you, making sure you were steady. You fixed your dress, smoothing it down, a little embarrassed at what you had just done.

"I hope no one saw," you murmured, blushing.

He shook his head, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you were looking at him. "If they did, I wouldn't care. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it."

You giggled, leaning into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He tucked himself back into his jeans and made sure you looked presentable, although you couldn't exactly hide all the hickeys and marks he left on your neck. His hand intertwined with yours as he led you back downstairs, a satisfied grin on his face.

Back on the dancefloor he pulled you close, his hand settling on the small of your back. You danced together, swaying to the music, his body pressed against yours, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

Rebekah, Kol and Klaus all watched the two of you from the bar, amused smiles on their faces.

"Do you think she knows that this place is pretty much packed with vampires... And everyone heard them?" Kol asked, glancing at his siblings.

Rebekah snorted, shaking her head, taking a sip of her drink. "I don't think so,"

Klaus laughed, a wide grin on his face. "Elijah definitely knows,"

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Kol smirked, winking at his sister. "And he doesn't give a fuck."

They all chuckled, and Rebekah raised her glass, gesturing towards her brother and you.

"To Elijah and his loud, insatiable wife," she laughed.

The other two raised their glasses and they clinked together, all three of them laughing. They watched as Elijah leaned in and whispered something in your ear, causing you to blush, and your heart to race. Partying with the Mikaelsons was never without a bit of scandal and mischief, and tonight was no different.

[baxndaid]

Hiiiii i was just wondering if you could do some smutty billford x reader hcs please❤️ I loved the first batch sm

bill cipher x stanford x afab!reader silly little nsfw hcs , tw non-con i think minors dni pls , heres the last one x <-

as i established in the last post, i think ford would be too pussy to initiate anything with you at all

too pussy and too busy like sorry i think he'd rather just jerk off his stupid machines rather than himself

ford keeps you in the dark about a lot of the things he does, you, like fiddleford, know about bill but youve never interacted with him (as far as you knew)

first time you interacted with him was when he possessed ford for the first time and climbed up onto the roof while shrugging off your concerns for ford(s body)

remember when bill took a bunch of polaroids and recordings of himself taking a joyride in fords body?

can you tell where im going with this

he would definitely record it, violently taking your clothes off with one hand and holding the camcorder with the other, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse like he was drunk and didnt know how the fuck buttons worked

you were already super tired from quadruple-checking fiddleford's equations that day so having "ford" stumble in and touch you so desperately made you a little suspicious

especially the fact that he was recording it, ford is a very private man

he reeks of alcohol and his white dress shirt was stained, his tie loosened and his trench coat forgotten on the wooden floor

taking no time to be gentle, he would lie you down on a desk, the trinkets digging into your skin making you gasp

keeping one hand on your throat, he would prop up the camera on a neighbouring storage shelf, getting a perfect angle of the both of you

you didnt bother fighting back, he was far too strong to push away and the iron grip he had on your throat kept you from moving even an inch, it scared you

with his right hand now free, he gripped your hips and dragged your body further down the table, artifacts and small machines being knocked onto the floor, your jeaned crotch touching his

whenever you struggled out of instinct, he would simply squeeze your throat a little harder until you stopped moving again

as much as bill loved seeing you struggle, he wanted to have a clear visual on his camera so ford could be squeamish about it when he watched the tapes

he would probably use any rope or wire to tie your wrists together, its way easier to rip your jeans off when your arms arent flailing around trying to push him off

by the time hes finally taken all your clothes off, he'll probably take the camera off the shelf and give ford a close up of what hes working with

close up of your flushed face? he probably slaps you and moves onto your chest like what an asshole i need him dead

close up of your chest? tweaks one of your nipples harshly and laughs as you jolt up in pain, pushing you down again

he gently trails his fingers down your stomach, the camera's gaze following, and finally reaches the spot in between your thighs

close up of your cunt? he puts the camera down next to your core while propping your leg up with one hand

"fords" head was hovering over your cunt, he turned his head to the camera to flash it a harsh, sly smile before turning back and messily kissing your pussy

im ganna be honest he dont know what the fuck hes doing like hes licking it hes biting it hes drawing blood hes doing whatever the fuck he feels like doing

your screams and gargled moans are muffled by his six-fingered hand as he continued to lap up your insides like a feral dog

tongues ur entrance while his teeth graze ur clit i think he'd be into that

he defo scratches you up while doing this btw, every time the real ford sees your wounds he feels really bad

he wont let you come until you claim that hes the best youve ever had, hes really childish like that i think

i lied though even if you begged he wouldnt let you finish, not like that, its not good enough

he puts the camera back on its shelf and makes swift work of his pants and boxers, only pulling them down enough for his cock to spring out

he leaned over you, the room was dark, the only source of light came from the weak candles and the artificial blue flights of fiddleford's inventions

his eyes glowed yellow and his smile was so wide it looked like it hurt, you already knew it wasnt your ford in control today

it was scary, but you cant help but be excited

from how embarrassingly wet you were, im pretty sure bill could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was too

he kept eye-contact as he pushed himself inside, it was humiliating but thats what he liked

he would grab your cheeks and force you to look at him if you ever let your gaze wonder to anything that wasnt him

he was surprisingly slow, it was appreciated at first but then it was torturous

he giggled manically as he watched you grow desperate for him to speed up

bastard would probably turn to the camera like it was a fucking tv show and ask the audience (ford) if he should go faster, if you deserved to come on his cock, if you even deserved to come at all

eventually he would though, he wants to get off and he cant do that while going at a snails pace

the sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, bill kept his hand on your throat, not choking you, simply keeping it there as he messily thrust into you

you both end up finishing at the same time, which bill is a little annoyed by

he berates both you and ford(s body) for not lasting long

he keeps himself buried into you while reaching for his camcorder and a polaroid camera that hes been using to document what hes been doing in fords body

he takes a few pictures of you and your lower half, white fluid leaking from your hole and covering his cock

he sighed, satisfied, collecting the photos and reached for the memory gun

ford wakes up the next day and looks at all the recordings and photos bill took the night before

to say hes horrified would be an understatement

immediately checks up on you, only to find you passed out on the desk, fully clothed and cleaned up, like it never happened

when he wakes you up in a panic hes confused to hear that you dont remember anything that happened last night

he doesnt tell you about anything that he saw

youd be better off as blissfully unaware, he thought yeah im a degenerate whatever man gravity falls masterlist

[sswiftiestars]

Professor!anakin aaaaaaa

professor!Anakin X fem! reader

warnings: SMUT. kinda big age gap (12 years. ani is 32 you’re 20), more of a jerking off headcanon, sexting, dilf! anakin is mentioned, padmes death at birth mentioned.

a/n: idk how college works so if it doesn’t makes sense, that’s why. sorry babes :). also, i imagine him to look like a mix of clay beresford and Stephen glass in this.

not proofread

You sit in your english class, in your sophomore year of college, as your teacher, Mr. Skywalker, was speaking in the head of your class.

you often found yourself staring at his dirty brown curls a lot, instead of listening to whatever dumbass lecture he was babbling about.

You’d also think about how it’d feel if his hands were knuckle deep inside your pussy, but, you also thought about what it’d be like for his hopefully huge cock to be down your throat. you thought about it as you endlessly fucked your self with your slim fingers, whining to yourself because it wasn’t enough.

and..little did you know, so did he.

..Anakin isn’t a…romantic guy, that’s for sure. during sex, i mean. he takes what he wants. Anakin would rather face fuck a girl till she cries, rather than taking it slow and placing soft kisses on her neck.

Sure, he can do that, but he doesn’t like to.

Anakin often stayed up late at night, fucking his fist like there was no tomorrow. he usually thought of his late wife, Padme, who unfortunately passed during child birth.

but..that changed. ever since he saw you for the first time in his class..everything changed.

“y/n, are you listening to me?” your professor asked you, your class all turning their heads at you.

you felt anxiety bubble up in your head, and chest.

you clear your throat, “yes sir.” you murmur out. Anakin nodded back at you with a slight smirk before returning back to his lecture.

Your best friend smirked at you from across the room. She knew how infatuated with him you were, because you’d tell her all your unhinged thoughts about him. you rolled your eyes jokingly in response, but deep down, you knew you’d be fucking yourself thinking about that stupid smirk of his later.

When the bell rings, you pick up your stuff and right as you’re about to leave the classroom, Anakin calls out to you.

“Not so fast, Y/n. cmere.” anakin says with a slight grin on his tan and freckled face. you wasted no time and walked over to his desk and tilted your head slightly out of curiosity.

“Listen, y/n, your grades are slipping.” he reminded you, anakins face turning serious.

“I- yeah, i know..” you mutter back in response, your face turning a bit red out of embarrassment.

“Do you need to start staying after class?” Anakin cleared his throat and leaned closer to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” you said, your breath hitching ever so slightly at his request, “—but not today, i have some things i have to do.” you lied, to tell the truth, you really needed to get to your room as soon as possible so you could fuck your self silly.

he smiled, “Alright. sounds like a plan.” Anakin nodded, “i know this isn’t the most professional thing to do, but here’s my number so we can schedule a tutoring session.” he murmured with a chuckle as he handed you a post it note with his number on it.

You quickly took the post it and nodded, “Thank you, Sir.” you said as you walked out of the classroom.

Later that day, well, night now.. it was around 8:00pm when you texted your professor,“Hey! it’s y/n, just letting you know this is me, text me when you think of a day we can schedule a tutoring session next week!”

he wasted no time at all with a quick response:

“hello, y/n! i’ll make sure to let you know. Side note; start paying attention in class instead of daydreaming. it might help you out a bit.”

you rolled your eyes to yourself, “I don’t daydream. not at all.” you text back teasingly, but making sure to keep everything as normal as possible, since he was your professor, and all.

“keep talking to me like that and you’ll see what happens.”

oh.

Oh.

“is this fucker flirting with me, or am i delusional?” you say to yourself.

“i’ll talk to you however i want. over text, at least.” you respond, hoping you’d get a bold text back.

well, your dreams came true.

“I think that mouth has better uses then talking,y/n”

“Oh?” you replied, not expecting his response like that at all, “andddd what would those better uses be?” you added.

“Probably sucking my cock.” Anakin texted you, trying to ignore the absolutely huge hard on that was straining his sweatpants.

your jaw dropped to the floor and you turned bright red. why would he say that? he’s your teacher, not your boyfriend.

“that’s not very appropriate.”

“I don’t care if it’s not “appropriate”, sweetheart. You want me and i want you too.” Anakin texts you, and starts to pull his hard cock out. Before you really get the chance to reply, he sends you a photo of him palming his hard cock, leaking pre-cum from the pretty tip.

You bite your lip when you look at the photo, feeling yourself grow wet at the sight of his huge length.

“See how bad i want you?” Anakin taunts over text message.

You waste no time to quickly take off your clothes, leaving yourself in your lace bra and underwear. you take a photo of your tits and some of your hips.

You send the photo to him, and the second he sees it, Anakin immediately starts to pump his cock.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“ he moans, as he looks at the photo. “Gonna’ cum all over your tits-“ Anakin mutters to himself, and let’s out a little whimper. Anakin continues s to fuck his fist and after a couple more minutes, he cums on his phone screen, onto your tits.

He quickly realizes what he’s gotten himself into, and a wave of guilt washes over him.

“Fuck. i’m gonna get fired for this.”

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

[lu-is-not-ok]

*rises from the grave*

*trips and falls flat on my face*

Heyyyy, it's ya boy, your favorite chronically exhausted Hong Lu identity that forgor about posting to Tumblr. Hi. Hello.

So. Timekilling Time, huh? Very fun, very exciting, we love focusing on Sinners that are misunderstood both in and out of character. We love Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu focus. We love Ryoshu's butch mustache swag.

Anyway, allow me yap about it a bit, because I took frame by frame screenshots of the teaser and I haven't yapped on Tumblr in a while. I'll also give a general update on how I've been doing at the end of the post for those who are interested.

The first thing I've noticed in the teaser is Dante actually lays out the exact traits that their choice of Sinners would need. These being (exact wording):

Someone who can support Dante

Someone who can remain laser-focused on the case

Someone who can be free from biased judgement while making rational, quick spur-of-the-moment decisions

In other words, we need Sinners who will help Dante out, are able to stay focused, and who can think on their feet without relying on their own internal biases.

I think it's important to lay those out as clearly as possible, because it makes the selections made by Dante and Verg very interesting, and also kind of funny.

Let's look at Dante's picks - Yi Sang, Meursault, and Faust. These are all, at a surface level, decent general picks, as all three of them are seen as smart and rational. However, if we look at them while keeping the previously mentioned traits in mind, it turns out these three might just be some of the worst picks Dante could ever fucking make.

The biggest issue - none of these bitches can think quickly. Faust is especially notorious for this, as it's consistently pointed out how she always needs a long time to come to a conclusion or otherwise has to pause to come up with answers. We also know Yi Sang is the type of person to get lost in his thoughts and just meander instead of getting to the point. Meursault is a bit of an outlier in that we see that he can think quickly, but if he's not given any orders he's never gonna act on those thoughts. Admittedly, he has been getting better at speaking up over time, but he's still mostly in this "only does what he's told to do" mode of operations.

This is where their issues split up a little bit.

Yi Sang is probably the most likely to be supportive of Dante out of the three - we see that he cares about others and has learned to interfere and give advice when he feels it's necessary (though who knows if he's doing well enough to keep that up after Canto 6, oof). No, rather his other issue lies in the focus department. This is the guy who, as I previously mentioned, meanders all over before getting to the point. Again, like Meursault, he has been getting better at not doing that, but he's still got ways to go.

Faust and Meursault on the other hand have the opposite issue. While they're fairly goot at staying focused on what they have to do, the issue is that they never fucking speak up. They're probbably the furthest from being supportive of Dante. They're most likely to learn info and just keep it to themselves until everyone has wasted way too much fucking time. Hell, Meursault would probably make a decently good detective if allowed to do the case all on his own, but since he's meant to be a part of a group, he's unlikely to help out that much without Dante directly ordering him around.

Now, onto Verg's picks - Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu. This is where things get really, really interesting. Because we have the reverse situation to Dante's picks - on the surface the choices seem random and counter-intuitive, but if we look deeper, it turns out they all fulfill the requirements surprisingly well.

I'm about to go on a tangent here, but I find it extremely important that we're focusing on this group of Sinners in the first Intervallo between what I consider to be the most thematically different arcs within Limbus. The first half of Inferno has been pretty squarely about confronting one's past, whether learning to face it properly after running away from it (Gregor, Rodya, Sinclair), or learning to move past it after refusing to let go of it (Yi Sang, Ishmael, Heathcliff).

However, looking at the Sinners we have left, it feels like the second half of Inferno might be focused less on the past specifically, but more about the Sinners' general reality. Especially the next upcoming trio of Cantos - Don Quixote, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu - have some heavy thematic focus on the idea of one's perception of reality, especially fitting for the three Sinners with weird eye shit going on.

With Timekilling Time focusing on the Sinners most misinterpreted by others in-character (and out of character), it feels like the perfect intro to this switch in thematic focus - exploring the actual realities of people who are otherwise hard to understand.

Anyway, back to discussing how Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu fit Dante's requirements.

Supportive of Dante - this is the requirement all three fulfill pretty well. Let me explain.

Rodya is probably the most obvious - she's a hypegirl through and through, and happy to take the reigns in some way or another if nobody else is able to, as we see in Canto 2. She's often one of the first people to point out when someone is not doing well, and shares a lot of her insight if in the mood, but she also knows when discretion is necessary.

Hong Lu is a fun one here - he's extremely perceptive and insightful, often sharing his thoughts with very little prompting. His only issue is that he tends to backpedal when he feels like he said something wrong, or generally just words shit in weird slightly offensive ways. He's supportive, he just doesn't always talk like he is.

Ryoshu is one I find most interesting here, as a lot of people seem to miss this about her character - despite her short temper and peculiar manner of carrying herself, she's actually pretty understanding and helpful towards people she's on amicable terms with. She always explains her acronyms if asked (and when she doesn't it's usually because people stop asking or Sinclair translates instead), she listens when told to stand down or otherwise do something when asked of by Dante or Sinclair, and the reason she tends to stay quiet is because she only speaks when she feels what she has to say is important.

Staying focused - this one is a bit harder to judge, but I'd say the only one who might not fulfill this one is Hong Lu, but only by a margin. Ryoshu is shown to get so focused she gets impatient when she can't get to the point, and Rodya always has her goal in mind even when she might act like she doesn't. Hong Lu is a bit harder to judge, as he seems to be the type to prioritze gathering information and satiating his curiostiy over the main goal, but in a case like this that might just be a massive plus.

Unbiased quick thinking - again, all three fulfill the quick thinking part very well. Rodya shows it constantly throughout Canto 2, Hong Lu shows it best in social interactions, and Ryoshu just doesn't want to waste time and so she naturally thinks quickly as well. It's when we come to the unbiased part that things get extremely interesting.

As individuals, Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu are all very biased people. Rodya sees the world from the perspective of someone who suffered in the poor Backstreets. Hong Lu sees the world from the perspective of a rich Nest dweller coming from a family of dubious morality. Ryoshu sees the world from the perspective of (probably) an ex-Ring member obsessed with the art that is reality. Their backgrounds color the information they take in a lot.

However... this means that as a group, all three balance each other's biases out. Rodya's cynicism gets balanced out by Hong Lu's idealism, which is balanced by Ryoshu's realism. Their backgrounds couldn't be more different, and thus give the widest possible perspective when put together.

I think this is the point Verg is making with this selection. Dante's selection is the easy way out. It's people that Dante already knows how to deal with, and would rather pick even if their skillsets don't fit the situation. Verg is making Dante learn how to work with Sinners who might be harder to deal with, but have skillsets more fitting for the situation at hand.

Dante can't keep half-assing everything by always turning to the same few people. Every Sinner in the group has their use and are smart in their own unique ways. They have to figure what every Sinner's strong point is, otherwise they'll end up putting everyone in danger by relying on people who are simply not good in a situation while ignoring those who could help.

So... that's what I think.

Anyway, personal general update - I'm still alive! And also very swamped with college and constant exhaustion. So, things will have to change a bit moving forward.

Number one - I will not be returning to old analysis requests. There's too many at this point, and I just don't have the time to sit down and write longass posts whenever I want anymore. However, that isn't to say E.G.O and Sin analyses will never return! I have plaaans for what I want to do with those moving forward, it just may take some time to materialize.

Number two - I'm generally just more active on Discord than on Tumblr. Yapping on Discord feels more natural for me, as it's just... less formal than making a full post I guess. So, if you want to discuss things with me, or if you're on a server that you think would do well with having me yapping in there, feel free to shoot me an invite link in replies (or in DMs if you don't want it to be public)!

Number three - Go check out the Absolute Pride Resonance event on Youtube! I'm not a part of it maybe next time wink wink nudge nudge, but you should still check it out cause it's a bunch of cool people doing very scuffed streams, as is fitting for the scuff Project Moon is known for.

Alright, that's it. I still don't know how to end Tumblr Posts. Bye.

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Could you do a Lookalike reader getting his hooves or ears brushed / cleaned by Alastor in a similar vein to the antler one? Maybe a standalone mini series of 'Parts I wanted to include in the main series but couldn't find space for it.'

I would be so up for that.

Hey man, thanks for the ask! I think I went a bit off-topic here, but I still think it's hot so I'm gonna post it. I've put a line for the more squeamish readers to stop at. Caveat emptor and all that.

Pairing: Alastor X reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: they/them pronouns, reader is a hermaphrodite, Foot stuff, Hoof stuff, scent glands, DEER THINGS, slight sexual content, Alastor being fucking weird

You didn’t know what was wrong with you at first. You’d held a variety of jobs during your mortal life, but vet wasn’t one of them. What you knew about medicine you knew from backwoods surgery, and what you knew about deer physiology was limited to the things that made their meat unsafe for consumption, the telltale lesions and growths on a carcass that meant it got burned or buried rather than butchered. This wasn’t one of those things.

There was a hard lump on the front of your leg, above where the keratin of your two standing nails ended and below the level of your dewclaws, close to the webbing of skin where your two toes joined. On a human this would have been the shin, but for you it felt more like your tarsal.

It had been small at first, and you had ignored it. Then it had grown larger, painful as it had rubbed against the tongue of your boot. Today you had limped your way through your shift at the hotel, your smile more of a grimace than anything that could genuinely be describes as cheerful, and retreated to the room you shared with Alastor as soon as your contract no longer compelled you to work.

Now you lay in the four-footed bathtub in Alastor’s ensuite bathroom, examining your hoof more thoroughly. Was this an abscess? Did you need to lance it? Your skin graded to a dark grey towards your red nails, so it was difficult to gauge the lump’s condition from color as it would be on a paler part of you. You were pushing at the lump with your fingers, feeling the heat of inflamed flesh when Alastor materialized from the shadows at the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What are you doing here?”

You hadn’t expected him to return to the room for hours, and even then, he generally gave you privacy when you were cleaning yourself. Fear shot through you like a cold wave in your stomach, the feeling of being caught, and you fought the reflex to hide your leg from Alastor. Your career as a serial killer would have been short-lived if you weren’t able to hide guilt, after all. “Do you mind?” you said, broadcasting annoyance.

Alastor looked unimpressed, taking a step closer. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“I would think it’s fairly apparent, but right now I was thinking of cutting my nails,” you lied, smoothly. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, looking for you,” said Alastor, his gaze settling on the red tips of your hooves. “I was about to cook dinner for everyone, and I could do with a sous chef who doesn’t try to boil themselves every time I set a pot of water on the heat or drink all the wine before it goes in the sauce.” He moved closer, arms behind his back. “Though I suppose those are getting rather long,” he said, eyes still on your standing nails, the two red points on the end of each of your hooves. “Let me help you with that.”

“No, I couldn’t put you out,” you raised a hand in protest, but Alastor was already in the space with you, bending to fetch a pedicure kit full of small knives, curved clippers and different grades of files from the cupboard that stood next to the basin.

“Nonsense, my dear, pure nonsense.” Alastor took a seat on the painted metal stool that lived next to the tub and looked down at you, teeth gleaming. “I hope you don’t mean to say I’m not up to the task.”

“Of course not,” you frowned, and Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval as he took your good leg in his hand.

Disapproval at your facial expression did nothing to stop Alastor’s roving hands, however, the hand that was holding your leg stroking down the arch of your foot to the pads beneath as he fetched a pair of clippers from the box at his feet. The touch was pleasant, and deliberate, and the clippers resembled a pair of secateurs more than anything else, the sort that could easily remove a thumb if applied correctly.

“If you cut to here-” Alastor took your hand, pulling it to the pad of your hoof, where the flesh was attached to the backside of the nail, and traced a line, dragging your finger alongside his. “-the hoof will be too short, and you’ll injure yourself walking-” You listened carefully as Alastor talked, moving your fingers over your hoof so that you would know his instructions by touch. It would have been a relaxing, bonding activity, if it weren’t for the aching lump on your leg, and your growing anxiety at it being discovered. Alastor’s hands were gentle on the pads beneath your hooves, holding your leg perfectly steady as he made each cut.

He moved to your other leg, and you were sure he would notice the lump, but he said nothing, either ignorant or letting you stew in your own embarrassment as you lay in the warm bathwater, his skilled fingers squeezing the arch of your hoof, thumb brushing against your dewclaws as he repeated the process, leaving you enough length in your nail that you would be able to walk comfortably. Sweeping the red slivers of your hooves aside, Alastor took a pair of files from the box, one coarse, one fine, and you felt the vibrations through the nail and through the bones of your leg as he filed down the rough edges. He did it slowly, watching your face as he drew the file back and forth with a gradual movement, the sensation something like a shiver as the metal abraded the surface. When he was done, he ran a thumb over each edge, feeling for imperfections.

Alastor brushed away the fine pink dust with his hand and smiled at his handiwork. “There. That’s better, don’t you agree?”

You nodded, something like relief flooding through you when Alastor hadn’t addressed the problem. You were free to deal with it. Privately.

[nb: if you just wanted hoof clipping, stop reading here]

“And it’s high time we did something about that,” said Alastor, gaze sliding over your bad leg, and your sense of relief shattered. “After all, you didn’t really think there was any part of yourself that you could keep a secret from me, did you?” Alastor’s smile turned cruel, his finger tracing a gentle line up between the two toes of your cloven hoof to the lump, even the light pressure he applied excruciating, and you held your breath to not cry out. “You were limping, darling,” he continued, voice chiding. “I was worried.”

You blinked away tears of pain, studying Alastor’s expression. Really, you’d been embarrassed more than anything- the horror that the strange lump might be due to a failure of basic hygiene on your part, but the way that Alastor examined it without surprise told you that it was an issue he was at least familiar with. Maybe something he’d dealt with on his own body, in his early days in Hell.

“You know what it is?” you asked.

Alastor hummed, his fingers trailing down the freshly pedicured red keratin of your nails and round to the soft pads of flesh that sat behind them, pressing and probing. Oh, that felt nice. “You’ve field dressed a deer before,” he said, chiding. “You really should know this yourself.”

You sank a little deeper into the bath, pouting. “I was a hunter, not a veterinarian. I cut the hooves off before skinning. Dried them sometimes.”

“And I thought you were a curious person.” Alastor smiled to himself, seeming to enjoy having such an advantage over you. “But I suppose I should educate you.” His fingers ceased their massage of your spongy underfoot, and he parted your toes, his touch on the web of skin where the two of them joined. “You have a scent gland here,” he said, pressing his finger against a narrow vertical slit on your dark skin, less than an inch in length. Like the lump above it, it was tender. “It’s blocked. You should have come to me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You felt your ears drop, your leg relaxing a little in Alastor’s grip,

“That is quite the hangdog look you have.” Alastor’s smile grew thin, and he reached over to cup your cheek. “Fear not, I know a remedy.” His fingers lingered, tracing the grim line of your mouth. “It will be painful though, you think you can grin and bear it?”

Alastor always wanted a smile from you, but especially in difficult situations. You weren’t sure if it was sadism, a test, or some twisted beneficence on his part. “Of course,” you said.

“I will hold you to that, dearest,” said Alastor, raising your hoof to his lips. It was all you could do not to gasp when he ran his tongue between your two standing toes, laving the pad of each, a pleasurable but alien sensation. It made it easy to smile for him, and his eyes met yours, the corners creasing with approval. His hand cupped the back of your leg, the part that your brain still fuzzily equated to the arch of your foot, long fingers stroking the lines of the tendons. You had been intimate with him enough times that there was no terror for you in his teeth, only the disconcerting sensation of sharpness as he pressed his mouth to your spread toes, his lips a seal around your scent gland, and sucked.

To describe the sensation as pain was technically correct, but it would be like describing standing within a meter of a working jet engine as loud, or the sea as wet. It was a nerve pain, a primal sensation of wrongness. Pain conducted through the bones of your leg to your stomach and your spine, making you queasy and tearful all at once. But you had promised you would smile through this, so you fought for conscious control of your face, forcing your breathing into a slow, steady rhythm, pushing the tension that had collected in your shoulders down as you lay back in the bath, the corners of your mouth up. You spread the fingers of your hands over the lip of the bathtub, palms outward, arms trembling, and Alastor clasped one of your hands in his, squeezing.

Tears rolled hot down your face as Alastor continued, the sensation unrelenting, the only sound in the room your breathing and the low frequency hum from the lights above you. You were still smiling when Alastor’s thumb hooked around your leg, pressing into the cyst above your scent gland. More pain. A whimper in your throat that you could no longer suppress, the curve of your mouth a forced one. Alastor squeezed your hand tighter as he pushed, or perhaps you were squeezing his, and you felt movement in the gland, the inflamed tissue shifting as the blockage was pushed out. You sobbed once and it was gone, replaced by the sensation of pressure being released, Alastor’s tongue moving between your toes.

Alastor raised his mouth from your hoof, his eyes half-lidded and sultry. “You’re doing so well, darling,” he said, sweetly, and all of a sudden it was easy to smile again, his hand no longer in yours as he used both hands to handle and inspect your hoof. “Nearly done now.”

You peered at your hoof, the toes still splayed as Alastor massaged the cyst with his thumb. Your scent gland wept, oily yellow fluid spilling from it. It stank, an earthy, musky smell filling the room. Alastor could smell it- anything with a nose would be able to, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as Alastor kept your leg firmly in hand. He had probably tasted it, too.

“Guess I should rinse that off,” you said, your smile turning wry as you wrinkled your nose, trying to hide the mix of horror and shame that you felt.

“Absolutely not,” said Alastor firmly, lowering his head to your hoof and lapping at the mess with his tongue, his breath hot between your toes. Fuck. Your stomach tightened at the sight of it, the noise of his tongue almost obscene in the quiet of the bathroom. It was disgusting and erotic all at once, Alastor’s eyes fixing yours with a fervid intensity as he breathed in your scent, and you found yourself hard, the throbbing pain that you’d felt moments before receding to arousal like a curtain revealing a stage.

If Alastor noticed your state, he chose not to acknowledge it, instead teasing the last of your scent from your gland with his mouth and his thumb and planting a soft kiss over the abused tissue; one that was painful by most people’s definitions of pain, but from him it was almost romantic, his lips the barest pressure. You knew better than to raise the matter- that would make him tease you, at best, leave you aching and unfulfilled. What Alastor gave was on his own terms.

“Incomparable, as ever,” Alastor murmured, as if what he had eaten had been drizzled across a plate in a Michelin starred restaurant and not licked fresh from between your toes. “You will come to me for these things in future, hm?”

“Is that a request?” you asked, a rough edge to your voice.

“Given your reaction, I don’t think it’s too tall an order, do you?” Alastor flashed his teeth, flirtatious and sinister all at once.

[morganski-19]

Things I Won't Say When I'm Sober

inspired by this post by @imfinereallyy. I saw this post ages ago but literally just found this idea in my drafts and decided to finally write it,

part 2

Steve lies across the floor of Eddie’s new trailer, mind hazy, with Robin’s limbs haphazardly laying on him. He’s mindlessly running his hands along the carpet, feeling the soft fiber under his hand. Eddie’s hand reaches into his vision as he passes Steve the joint. He really doesn’t need to take anymore, his muscles already relaxed more than they have been in a while, and his mind is slipping into that territory that might give him a panic attack if he goes too far. But he’s with people he trusts and Robin will cut him off before any of that happens, if he won’t cut himself off before then. 

He blows the smoke up into the air as Eddie takes back the joint. Running his hand across the carpet again, he brushes against something different. Curious, he starts playing with it, rolling it between his fingers, tugging on it a bit to see if he can tell what it is. 

“Stevie,” Eddie slurs. Steve hums. “Why are you playing with my hair?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “This is your hair?” He tugs on the strand between his fingers a bit. 

“Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you’d stop pulling on it.”

“It’s so soft,” Steve finds himself saying, not dropping the hair between his fingers, instead picking up more.

Robin bursts out laughing. “How high are you, dingus?”

Steve shrugs. “Pretty high I guess.”

“Could you stop playing with my hair?” Eddie complains, rolling away a bit and almost kicking Steve in the face. 

He moves his hand away from Eddie’s hair and brings it up behind his head. Robin shifts, rolling off of Steve and starting to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Steve complains, needy.

“The bathroom,” Robin deadpans. “Why?”

The giggles kick in and Steve struggles to get the words out. “Cause I have a secret and I need to tell you it.”

The secret in question was Steve’s crush on Eddie. Something he’s buried deeper than he’s willing to admit and something that he’s barely come to accept. But something about the safe feeling of his friends and the weed loosening his thoughts to stop the denial and face the facts made him want to tell her. It’s not the first time that he’s thought that his attraction to Eddie was a fact and not just the desire to be friends. That it wasn’t normal for people to fantasize about kissing their best friends and sharing the same bed all the time. 

It took time for Steve to realize that these thoughts were ok for him to have. That he could have feelings for girls in the past while also having feelings for a boy now. That it’s ok for him to be having feelings for a boy at all. He is who he is, and who he likes won’t change that. The Steve he was when he dated girls isn’t different from the Steve who has a crush on a boy. It’s all him, even if he didn’t know he was capable of doing it. 

The main problem was that he hadn’t told Robin about it yet, and it seems that his hazy mind decided that now was the best time. Now, when Eddie, the person he has a crush on, is still in the room.

“And this secret is hilarious?” Robin joins in on the giggles but tries to hide it. “Can you tell me the secret so I can go to the bathroom?”

Steve shakes his head while giggling more, now realizing his mistake and thinking it’s hilarious rather than embarrassing. “No.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “No?” 

“Mhm. Can’t tell you.”

“So you have a secret that you need to tell me but can’t tell me. Why is that, Steven?” Robin very annoyingly asks, only pulling out the full name when she wants him to get to the point. 

“Eddie’s in the room,” Steve says like it’s the simplest fact there is. 

Eddie sits up. “Why can’t I know your secret?”

“Cause it’s a Robin secret. You don’t get to know those.”

Robin rolls her eyes again while Eddie makes an overexaggerated offended look. “I’m going to the bathroom, you two can figure this out while I’m gone.” 

Steve stops his giggles to roll over and grab at Robin’s legs as she gets up, attempting to stop her from leaving. She steps out of his grasp and makes her way out of the room. He lays there pouting for a second before bursting out in laughter again. 

“So keeping secrets from me is so funny now isn’t it,” Eddie pouts. 

“I am so high,” he manages to get out between giggles as he rolls back onto his back. 

Eddie rolls his eyes before laying down next to him, their heads next to each other this time. “Yeah, I can tell. You don’t normally laugh this much when you’re not.” 

The weed is doing nothing to stop the blush that covers Steve’s face, though his face was plenty red before so maybe it would hide it. “You notice that about me?”

“I notice a lot of things about you, Steve,” Eddie responds sincerely, turning his head to look Steve in the eyes. 

Maybe it’s the high, maybe it isn’t, but Steve can’t help but think that the look Eddie has in his eyes is the same one that he finds himself getting every time he looks at Eddie. The simple want of something more that can never be. To be more than all that they are, friends. 

A look that tells Steve that if he leaned in for a moment, maybe Eddie wouldn’t back away. Maybe he would let it happen. Maybe he would lean in too. Maybe all of the things Steve has accepted that he wants could come true. 

Not that he would even try right now. He’s high, Eddie’s high. No person’s first kiss with someone they really care about should be like this. It should be in a state where they could remember it. Where they could look back on it in the future and remember every detail. Or maybe it should be done when he’s a little bit high. Maybe then he won’t second guess himself at the last minute and actually go through with it. Then if it ends badly, he has the chance of forgetting the little details but is left with the knowledge that this is hopeless. Then he can get over it. 

He has the feeling that getting over Eddie would be hard though. The feelings that bubble over in his chest every time he’s around Eddie are all but proof of that. This is different, more than he’s felt about someone in a long time. The most he’s felt about a person since Nancy. 

That scares him, still scares him. That he can look at another person the way he looked at her. Or more, he can feel something for someone on that level again, but this time completely differently. He likes Eddie for different reasons then he liked Nancy, but it doesn’t change the way he feels about him. This affection, this crush, this almost love is deep. Steve doesn’t want to mess it up this time. 

“I’m not that offended that you won’t tell me you’re secret,” Eddie whispers, like this moment isn’t meant to be heard even though they’re the only ones in the room. “I know that you and Robin share pretty much everything. So if it’s meant for her ears only I understand. I just hope you might be able to tell me one day.”

“Eddie, I-” Steve stammers, cut off by the sound of Robin entering the room again. 

[vermilionsun]

Your Touchstarved headcanons are wonderful! You are almost single handedly keeping me sane while I wait for the full game. Truly, you are a blessing to this fandom.

I was wondering if you had any thoughts about what any of the LIs would think of an MC who is a Writer/Artist. Maybe they had to give it up for a while when they left to go to Erridia?

Or...

Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.

Anyway I hope you have a great day, keep up the good work and thanks for posting so much good stuff.💐🌼

I’m actually crying you’re so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH?!! AVCKHVCEBFC 😭😭

I took it a step further, I hope you don't mind.

This is 1/2 :)

Disclaimer! They/Them for MC because we love inclusivity!

Kuras

Writer

He’d probably figure it out rather quickly. The way they would meticulously jot down notes, the endless stream of ideas, and their thoughtful insights into various u̶n̶c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶l̶ topics. Or perhaps he had caught glimpses of their constantly ink-stained fingers. Either way, it became another entry in Kuras' catalogue of fascinating things about them. Undeniably intrigued, he couldn't help but wonder if their writing reflected their innermost thoughts and desires—if each word they wrote held a piece of their soul, waiting to be discovered by someone willing to delve into the depths of their imagination—or perhaps if it was simply a creative outlet for emotions they couldn't express otherwise.

Kuras found himself wanting to uncover the layers of complexity that made up the enigmatic individual behind the pages of their notebooks. And he was more than willing to take on that challenge.

Taking into consideration the fact that perhaps the MC wouldn't be able to afford fancy writing tools or notebooks, often writing down messy notes in napkins with worn-out pens and crayons left behind by patrons at the Wick, Kuras would gift them a brand new notebook and a set of pens, hoping that the small gesture would encourage the MC to continue expressing themselves through writing and perhaps even open up to him about the deeper secrets of themselves they had yet to reveal.

Vere

Artist

As a fellow artist himself, Vere knew to recognize talent when he saw it, no matter how subtle or unassuming it may appear at first glance. After all, true artistry is not just about skill but also passion and dedication. He didn't miss the way the MC's eyes lingered a moment longer on the brush strokes of a distant painting in a random Eridian shop with such reverence, as if trying to capture the essence of the art itself, before moving on, or the way their eyes focused on the lightning dancing across the sky and their fingers twitched with an unspoken desire to create. 

Vere could sense the raw artistry bubbling just beneath the surface; he saw in them the same hunger for self-expression and longing for freedom that had driven him to pursue his own artistic endeavours. 

So he carefully crafted a plan. He discreetly left behind pens and paper in the MC's vicinity. He didn't directly hand it to them, opting to let them stumble upon the supplies, hoping that the MC would take notice and feel compelled to pick up the tools on their own accord. Don't ask him why he did so; he doesn't know the answer himself. Perhaps because of an inexplicable curiosity and a desire to see if he could spark something within the MC, to see if he could ignite that same creative flame that burned within him. Or maybe it was simply a gut feeling. Regardless, he watched from a distance as the MC began to tentatively pick up the pens and paper, their eyes alight with newfound inspiration. It brought a g̶e̶n̶u̶i̶n̶e̶ satisfied smile to his face, his tail wagging back and forth in contentment.

Leander

Dance

Leander figured the MC used to be a dancer. It was obvious if one paid close attention; their perfect posture, precision, strength, and flexibility in their body were a dead giveaway. He'd notice the gracefulness in their movements, every step deliberate and full of confidence, and the fluid transitions between postures.

Leander found himself bewitched. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the MC as they'd effortlessly glided around the Wick, their feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. It was effortless, seamless, and utterly captivating. He will admit he couldn't help the small smile once he'd noticed the subtle way they would often tap their feet to the rhythm of a song roaring throughout the tavern.

It was a talent that couldn't be hidden, no matter how hard they tried.

His plan was simple: He needed some sort of opening, somewhere to insert himself into the situation without coming across as intrusive (o̶r̶ a̶g̶g̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶… o̶r̶ d̶e̶m̶a̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶… o̶r̶—). He would simply attempt to start a conversation with them and praise their dance skills, hoping to learn more about that talent of theirs—maybe even ask them for a dance later in the evening—while also finding a way to subtly steer the conversation towards more personal matters.

N̶o̶, i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶n̶'t̶ n̶e̶r̶v̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ f̶l̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ i̶n̶ h̶i̶s̶ s̶t̶o̶m̶a̶c̶h̶. I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ u̶n̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶ o̶u̶t̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶w̶a̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶—

Mhin

Sculpture

They noticed something was up because the MC. wouldn’t. stop. staring. at their face. The way their eyes lingered on Mhin's features made them feel self-conscious, as if every flaw and imperfection were being scrutinised under a microscope.

Mhin couldn't decipher the intent behind the intense gaze, but it left them feeling both uncomfortable and strangely flattered. They couldn't help but wonder what it was about their appearance that captivated the MC so intensely. It was as if they'd seen something in them that no one else did—something worth examining closely.

They tried to maintain a neutral expression but ended up shifting uncomfortably in their seat, trying to break the look that seemed to be piercing through their very soul. 

It wasn't until the MC finally spoke up, complimenting Mhin's bone structure and suggesting they would make a great model for a sculpting project, that Mhin made the connection.

The revelation made Mhin feel incredibly flattered and intrigued, as they had never considered themselves to be particularly striking or noteworthy. The idea of being immortalised in stone by someone talented was… intimidating. And somehow humbling.

Ais

Architecture

He is observant, and can easily notice a person who seems particularly interested in a specific thing. He observed them, their body language, facial expressions and the way they looked at things around them, their eyes tracing the fine details from afar—it was almost like they were analysing them.

What made his suspicions clear was...the Seaspring. F̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶a̶m̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶a̶s̶ u̶s̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ a̶t̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ b̶e̶y̶o̶n̶d̶ b̶r̶i̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ d̶e̶s̶p̶a̶i̶r̶

It was the way they looked at the building in particular; their eyes darted around, as if examining every inch, every line and curve of the temple. He’d smirk to himself, eyes following their every move, as if he could read their thoughts.

He’d bring them anything; from papers, inks and rulers to wood and other building materials. He’d let them demolish, remodel, completely renovate the fucking thing—he couldn’t care less, as long as he had somewhere to rest at night. Besides, their smile was worth more to him than any amount of power he could be offered.

I could make another one with Singing/Music, Theatre and Design or Ceramics perhaps….

[avonne-writes]

Leaving

Random angsty HS AU one-shot I typed out in one go because I felt inspired. Set in Year 12, February, four months after Broken Things.

Posted on AO3

Gale takes a deep, calming inhale and closes his eyes. Resting on his bare chest, Bucky's head rises and falls as he breathes. He strokes the back of Bucky’s neck with his thumb swiping slowly back and forth. It’s warm and cozy in his bedroom, only the bedside lamp Georgia bought for him provides some light. The house is quiet and empty, theirs alone tonight.

His right hand lies on the mattress, limp after minutes spent clutching at the sheets. Tonight was the first time they had sex all the way in four months, the first time since Gale almost jumped off that bridge. Their longest break so far. In the past few months, there was always something that didn’t align - either the lack of privacy or the lack of desire. It was difficult to feel such a thing when Gale’s thoughts were consumed by darkness.

It felt nice to experience this again and reconnect with Bucky. Gale missed it. He missed feeling happy and carefree in love. Even now that it's over and they're cuddling in the afterglow, those positive feelings fight back the grey depression creeping in at the sides. It’s nothing but a twinge in his ribs, easy to ignore. He’s getting better.

He traces the shell of Bucky's ear and allows himself a small smile.

Suddenly, Bucky grabs the wrist of his right hand. Frowning, Gale watches as he raises it closer and rubs his thumb over the long, thin scar that runs down the inside of it, right where Gale’s veins run in blue lines under his pale skin. Oh. The implications of that touch are clear. A sense of dread stirs in Gale's chest.

"Did you do this to yourself?" Bucky asks, bluntly, quiet but firm. It’s an old scar and Bucky has seen it before, Gale’s sure. But he never had a reason to ask this, did he, until this year.

"No." Gale says. It’s true - but the question makes the shadows stronger, the taste in his mouth bittersweet. "I was ten, played somewhere I shouldn't have. Some kind of shed at my uncle's place. Fell and slashed my arm on a nail. Didn’t get the artery but it wasn’t pretty. Dad yelled at me for it, but then he took me to the ER himself and -" Gale shrugs. An acidic feeling pools in his stomach. "- it was kind of nice."

He doesn’t see much of Bucky's face, but he can tell that his nostrils flare and his jaw clenches before it relaxes again. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but the silence doesn’t feel tense. Perhaps it's the effect of pleasure lingering or the sleepiness making Gale's eyelids heavy, but he doesn’t feel like he should break it. He lets Bucky take his time.

A few more seconds pass, then Bucky draws Gale’s wrist to his lips and kisses his scar. The tenderness of the gesture pulls at something tight and sensitive in Gale's chest, like stitches tugging the skin closed, and he doesn’t like it. He would rather bleed out in silence than feel this again, but he takes it. He takes it because he wants to get better. Just like he took the past months of kindness and care he received despite the shame. To get better.

When Bucky doesn’t let his arm go but keeps it pressed to his face, he starts to suspect that something is wrong. He doesn’t know what, and the possibility that he caused it scares him. They had such a good night together. Why is happiness always so fleeting?

Gently, he combs the fingers of his left hand through Bucky's curls. "Hey."

Bucky's breathing stutters. It leaves his nose in a shaky rush of air against Gale's wrist. "It’s almost March."

Gale racks his brain to remember the significance of the date until it slams into him - the month when Bucky’s dad left seven years ago. It's been ages since they talked about the man. He hasn’t come up much since Neil entered their lives, but it doesn't take a genius to guess what brought back Bucky's troubled feelings, and Gale has to swallow against the guilt that ties a knot in his throat.

"Darling -" The endearment, so rarely used, falls from his lips before he can think about it.

Bucky reacts with a rattling sob that he chokes immediately back down. Something warm and wet trickles down Gale's forearm, like his blood did all those years ago, but he feels the pain of torn flesh in his chest this time.

"Please don’t leave." Bucky whispers. He sounds like a child.

Gale's heart clenches in sympathy at the same time as his brain blares an alarm coupled with the sense that it should have gone off a long, long time ago, but he always dismissed the signs. "I won’t. I'm staying."

"Mom's gone again." Bucky says as if Gale's words were just a single bucket for an ocean of fears. "What if she doesn’t come home?"

"She’ll come back, I promise." Gale tells him, reaching down with his left to stroke Bucky's broad back. "And I'm here too."

"You’re here now." Bucky replies. The tint of anger in his voice takes Gale aback, but, he supposes, it’s just a reflection of helplessness and unwelcome vulnerability. "But what if you change your mind? You could leave me tomorrow or next week or after graduation."

Bucky puts Gale's arm back on the bed. Smeared tears glisten on his skin. He pushes himself off Gale and sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and face hidden in his palms. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, irritated by the liquid pain escaping his grip no matter how he tries to rein it in. His hands are shaking.

Gale moves to his knees to follow him and hugs him from behind. He lays his head on Bucky’s shoulder, hair falling over Bucky's skin in a soft wave. His palms push warmly against Bucky's naked abdomen. "I'm not breaking up with you."

"I'm scared." Bucky mumbles into his hands, his tone defeated. "You have no idea, Gale." He sniffles. "Everyone I love leaves me. Anytime something changes, I lose someone. No one ever wants to stay in touch with me. Maybe I just suck at it, I don't know. Too much. Too fucking annoying. I wish my dad merry Christmas every year but he leaves me on read. I double and triple and quadruple text my friends like a fucking loser. Never knew when to lie down and give up. I'm just a clown, that's what I am."

It's an abrupt and incredibly melodramatic tirade, in the way only Bucky can make it, but Gale’s heart breaks all the same. He hears all the little things that built up to cause this, starting from the pit of tar that's the absence of Bucky's father to all the ghosting Bucky had to endure from past friends and teammates. Pets dying. His mom working too much, Neil going on road trips. Teachers preparing them to say goodbye to high school. Then Gale went and threw a sparkler into this volatile mix by trying to jump off a bridge, then distancing himself because he couldn’t handle being loved when it felt like he didn’t deserve it.

What a pair they make.

"You’re not a clown." Gale says soothingly, rubbing circles over Bucky's heart. "You just wear your heart on your sleeve. It gets hurt more easily." He presses a kiss to Bucky's shoulder. "You have so much love to give."

"Nobody wants it." Bucky cries, then his muscles tense under Gale’s touch. "Fuck. Fuck it all."

"Calm down."

"I can’t." Bucky jiggles his leg, then tries to pry Gale's hands off himself. "I need to go for a run. Shake this shit off."

Gale sits up and wrestles with him to keep him in place, but it just makes Bucky more agitated. After a moment of this, Gale loses his patience and snaps. He grips Bucky's wrists and yanks him close. "John. Look at me. Look at me."

There's a raw emotion in Bucky’s eyes when they meet his. Gone is the gleam of joy from earlier tonight. All that's left is the look of someone who feels trapped and desperate to get out and run, away from the flood of anxiety he usually keeps at bay. Gale should have known this was coming - all the clinging and the insatiable need to be close since Gale almost killed himself couldn’t have been caused by that near-tragedy only.

Deep down, he knew this. He knew it and yet he let it get to this point, didn’t even try to address it until he wanted his personal space, like some selfish douchebag, and he feels like an ass for it now, because he can see how it all adds up in Bucky's mind. Even the slightest sign or reminder that he and Gale aren't fused together and can, in fact, be separated any time by death or a break-up, triggers Bucky's fear of abandonment.

Gale rubs his thumbs over Bucky's wrists. "I want it." When that seems to placate something in Bucky, he lets go to cup Bucky's tear-stained face instead. "I want it. I love you."

The way Bucky looks at Gale is like someone reaching for his last hope in the dark. It is too much - Gale can’t be consumed by someone else like that, his personality rebels against it - but it's not a time for nuance and compromise. He strokes Bucky's cheeks.

"Breathe."

Bucky takes a deep breath, another, then drops his forehead to Gale's. "I'm too clingy."

Yes, Gale wants to say. He keeps his mouth shut. His hands find Bucky's. He pulls them to his own neck, where he's warm and where his pulse beats, strong and alive.

They stay like that, embracing in silence for the longest time. Bucky's phone buzzes on the nightstand every now and then when he gets a notification, but they both ignore it. Useless noise. They don’t mean anything. Only a fraction of those interactions matter. Gale needs to help Bucky learn this. Protect him from his own too big heart.

He gives Bucky a kiss on the lips, then another one on his cheek when Bucky doesn’t return it.

"Did you really not do it on purpose?" Bucky asks quietly. He doesn’t need to clarify what he means. Gale can tell that he didn’t believe Gale's story for a minute.

"It wasn’t on purpose." Gale replies. He pauses, but he knows he needs to go on. "But I knew I was breaking his rules. He wanted too much from me, so I antagonized him."

Bucky breathes in, breathes out, then cracks a shaky laugh. "My little rebel."

To steal a kiss, Gale nudges his nose. "I won’t follow anyone I don't want to. I'll find a way to resist."

Bucky’s smile gains strength, and the touch of his hands turns flirty. He traces the line of Gale's ribs. "Are you saying you prefer to lead?"

Happy to put all the negative emotions behind them, Gale lays a hand on Bucky’s chest to push him on his back. "What do you think?"

Bucky wipes his right eye one more time, then reaches up to tangle his fingers in Gale's hair. "I think you do. Tonight, at least."

Gale presses his lips to the center of Bucky's chest but doesn’t say anything. Something about that makes Bucky smile. "Okay, Buck. Show me how you like it, baby."

A flash of a grin, then Gale is kissing him, his touch deep and hungry. He ignores the low simmer of trepidation in his chest about the future, about leaving, and just sinks into all the love Bucky wants to give him. He’ll tame it before it gets suffocating. He promises.

[siffrinsfrozendreams]

This is my second time trying to make this post. it will probably be as much of a mess as the first draft but oh well.

Rant? Appreciation post? Character analysis? yeah idk what this is but spoilers for Act 5 and Twohats/secret ending ahead

Act 5 Siffrin lives in my head rent free. His break was SO good, and this post is me going off about them. Specifically, this post was brought on by how Siffrin tried to destroy the world, rather than themself.

It is very interesting to me how Siffrin bends and breaks reality and the world in this final loop.

How Loop, in their giving up, took it out on themself, but Siffrin takes it out on the world.

His last loop, their last attempt at breaking out of this eternal hell, because he can't do it again. They're hopeless. They're grasping at any sliver of hope they can, but at this point he can't deny how stupid it is. How pointless this is. How all this effort will likely amount to nothing, and that he's trapped here forever. That nothing will break them out of this.

"I know its stupid, I know its a long shot, but it has to be this!"

This quote from Siff's argument with Loop towards the beginning of Act 5 always stuck with me. Siffrin, this whole time, has always told himself that things are fine. As long as they have a path to follow, they'll be fine. Slowly, we see them struggle with keeping this up, but he always comes back to it.

Not this time.

This time, its all too much. He knows his plan is stupid. They know this won't work. Why would it? But also... what else can he do? What other choices does he have? Being honest with themselves and admitting that this won't work is the same as admitting that he's trapped here forever. That reality is seeping in, but he's still struggling for whatever shreds of hope they can manage. Whatever flicker of light they can see, they'll take it, even if they know the light will go out as soon as he does. Even if he knows it will amount to nothing. He has to.

Then he realizes that Loop knew there was no escape.

Siffrin can't take it. He can't take it, because it means Loop knew this whole time that Siffrin was stuck here forever, that they knew there was no way out of this, and that they were just stinging Siffrin along this entire time.

Siffrin's guide, his helper, the only person/being who knew about the loops, the only reason Siffrin wasn't completely alone this entire time... lied to him. Strung them along. Gave them false hope that they could see a new tomorrow. And it fucking breaks him.

Already grasping for whatever shreds of hope they can, now forced to face the reality that he'll be stuck here forever. Loop lied to him. They can't trust them. So he leaves, and never contacts them again.

Then they return to the Clocktower, only to hear his family talking about him. To hear Odile say that they can't trust him, and none of the others disagree with her.

Siffrin. Is. Alone.

(Which, funnily enough, is the exact opposite of what they wished for.)

The only person who knew about the loops, Siffrin's guide, is a liar and untrustworthy. Siffrin's family doesn't trust them anymore, and are planning to leave him behind.

Siffrin is tired. They're also out of options. So, what else are they supposed to do, aside from the only thing they can at this point? The only thing they've ever known...

They enter the House.

He has to take down the King himself.

His last shred of hope. The last flicker of light before they're plunged into an abyss of despair. Their final attempt at ending this loop, no matter the cost.

Alone.

What else is he supposed to do, who else are they supposed to lash out at, aside from the world itself?

There is nothing left for them here. No one to go back to. Their family hates him, and Loop is untrustworthy. They can't even remember his own blinding country, can't read or speak the language, and can't remember anything about it. Everything he could be holding onto is gone now.

So, he takes his anger and despair out on the world itself. On the House, his eternal prison. On the sky, with stars they don't recognize. On a world, that will forget him and abandon him just like everything else has.

Because, either he breaks out of the loop this time, or there won't be a world to come back to to loop again. Because they can't do it again. Not anymore. They've had enough. What's the point of going on any further? Whats the point of trying to open a door that doesn't even exist?

Its either this, or nothing.

Loop had no one from the very beginning. They were alone for it all. When they gave up, they took it out on themselves. Who else was to blame for their suffering, after all?

Siffrin, however, had Loop. They weren't alone for any of it. As hopeless as they felt, Loop was there to help him. That is, until now, and Siffrin can't handle it. Can't handle the only person whose been supporting him through this knowing that he was trapped here forever from the start.

Of course he'd take out his anger on a Universe that betrayed him. What else would they do?

[nalyra-dreaming]

What big plot twist do you think will happen this season? This made me scared, everyone already knows that ep5 happened differently, could Sam be talking about something else?

Oh... I don't think I have a definite answer here *laughs*

My gut feeling... says it's connected to the (possible) Amel hint we might have seen already (in ep5 & 6).

I... I mean. Let's dissect what Sam says a bit:

an unreliable element to the books (memory? contested stuff?) that this twist (seems to build on)

it's not necessarily the truth (once more)

the order of things (the order of the books? another mix-up by pulling other events forth?)

the twist is "really fucking cool" and can be "justified" by the above

Let's keep in mind that the show/Rolin has already stated that they want to keep Jacob and we know that he took these pebbles and spread them around NOLA and we have this image:

... in s1 there was talk of "a brute in Madagascar", where I for one couldn't come up with who that might be.

... That brute does not necessarily need to be involved.

However, staring at this quote (lol), these are my thoughts:

I think it will have to do with Louis (and by extension Lestat)

I think it could have to do with Amel

I think it might have to do with the brute

I'm not convinced Louis will become the core

I think whatever they came up with lies within the rules of this universe...

... but is still so far out Sam needed to think about it

Another incident of Louis being... well, incapacitated is in Blood Communion. Maybe they switched the iron for the pebbles... if you catch my drift^^. If they bring in Rhoshamandes here already, and if Rhoshamandes would actually ... IDK... steal the core? As he tried to do?

However, that doesn't explain why Sam would need to "justify" it.

And, as with the DV in episode 5... when he says there is justification...

... I think it must have to do with them. Meaning Louis, Lestat (or Claudia). One possible twist could be to have Claudia actually survive, however, I think that would have repercussions for all the rest of the books, as said before. Which... might what he is talking about here?! But then Louis would be out and looking for her, as said before, I don't think that would work.

In this universe the books have not been published yet, so the event Armand warns of in s1 might happen... but again, I don't see it as needing to be "justified".

On the other hand there was this rather intriguing pic by Eric Bogosian a while back, where he posted the coffin pic.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Eric Bogosian (@ericbogosian)

I do not think that "The Devil's Minion" is ready for Daniel to get turned next season.

So maybe, just maybe this has to do with him.

Maybe it has to do with a change to Daniel. Maybe he will get a new body. One that has been prepared and is waiting for him. Who knows. (tagging @cbrownjc here for reasons^^)

I don't know. My gut feeling says Louis or Daniel, but since Sam says it is not "in the books", then... well. He also says it is "in this season", so maybe it isn't the finale after all. But preparing the finale.

Whatever it will be I think they will hook it into the rules of the universe, so that when we see it... we will know^^.

But I honestly cannot guess what it is yet.

(well, apart from the above, lol)

[bones4thecats]

Tfa Longarm/Shockwave x Fembot reader, they are both Conjux, and also that they have a Sparkling that is still a baby, the reader does not know that Longarm is a spy, that was until when the reader went to give him something that she forgot in the elite guard, he discovers that he is a spy and in his true form when he ends the call with Megatron, and Shockwave discovers him, the reader returns to the house and hides in a room with the Baby. When Shockwave returned to the house he began to make excuses, but The reader was already leaving, out of desperation Shockwave knocked out the Reader and took her to the ship, where he held her and the baby. Shockwave tried in every way to gain the reader's trust, but she did not accept since She thinks he just used her, but Shockwave tells her that he always loved her and didn't use her, making them both love each other again, but when the Decepticons were taken to Prison, the reader visits him along with the baby.

TFA! Shockwave's F-Bot! S/O Visits Him

Character: Shockwave (Transformers Animated) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: Sorry this took so long to post, but I do have one final request to do. It should be posted sometime in the next couple days. Anyways, have fun reading this mess of fluff and angst <3 ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of kidnapping, war, being scrutinized for another's actions, and being in prison ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Shockwave ═════════════════════════════╝

🧪 After the call ended, Shockwave sighed and stretched his mechanical spine out a bit, allowing a relaxing pop and fizz to make him relax. He was getting tired of becoming a being that was pretty much half of his normal size, but it was what he had to do for the sake of the mission

🧪 And his family

🧪 Before he could return back to his normal Autobot-form, he froze when hearing the sound of a bot running. He stood up and transformed back into Longarm Prime before looking outside and seeing you, his Conjunx, running away as fast as you could out of his building

"Oh no... Y/N!" He yelled, running after you while his receptionist watched with widened eyes as you ran away with your love chasing you. What happened in the last couple seconds?

»–•–«

🧪 Shockwave, or rather Longarm Prime, entered your shared home with a nervous energon-sweat on his forehead. Hopefully you weren't doing what he thought you were. Maybe you heard something creepy from another one of his workers or maybe you had seen a small Cybertronian insect or something!

🧪 He was wrong... dead wrong

🧪 The sight of your grabbing everything you needed to care for your sparkling was enough to make Shockwave begin tearing up in fear. He couldn't lose you like this!

"Y/N, love. What are you doing?" He asked nervously, even though he already knew what you were doing, he needed to seem innocent.

🧪 You glared at him with a strong mix of fear, anger, and heartbreak. It was so strong that your sparkling slightly curled up in your chest, attempting to calm you down like he would almost every time you cried around him. He truly had Shockwave's genius mind

🧪 But now you were wondering if that was a good thing or a bad thing

"Leaving. I don't want my sparkling to be raised by someone who lied to me, nonetheless someone who would use another for their own gain. Or should I say, Megatron's gain?"

🧪 Shockwave froze in shock as you said that. So you did see him in his normal form. Primus damn it...

"Y/N, may I please explain what was happening? I was just becoming a 'Con so I could get more information on Megatron and his whereabouts!"

"We already know where he is. Ultra Magnus and Sentinel have already seen him and his band of beasts on Earth where Ratchet and the others are! Don't try making such excuses!" You screamed.

🧪 As you grabbed your bag closer and went to pick back up your sparkling from where you sat him down while arguing with your once trusted Conjunx, Shockwave panicked and raised his leg before crashing it down on your head, sending you into a state of unconsciousness on the ground

🧪 Looking at his youngling and back at his Conjunx, Shockwave panicked once again. What was he going to do now...?

»–•–«

🧪 The sound of an engine revving to life allowed you to groggily open your sights of your baby being thrown in the air and caught again by a mysterious mech

"Seismic... put my sparkling down you-!" The mech then turned around, revealing the same mech you confronted back at your once shared home.

"Y/N, I did not wish to do this to you. Really. But you know I can't just be having an Autobot be walking around Cybertron revealing my identity."

"Ha, yeah right. Let me guess, that bucket-headed son of a scrap wanted some kind of leverage to use against Ultra and the rest of Cybertron?"

"No. I just- Y/N I hid this from you because... because-"

"Because of your underlying manipulation, just like every other fragging 'Con. Yeah, I know."

"NO! Primus damn it, Y/N! I love you so much that I can't stand thinking of the rest of that forsaken planet viewing you as a possible traitor for being the partner of mine! I don't need our son, our Seismic, being scrutinized by those pompous Autobots!"

"That's for revealing your true feelings of my family's allegiance. It's good to know how much of a lose piece of wiring I am in your plans- wait- did you just say... you love me...?"

🧪 Shockwave nodded and kneeled in front of you, allowing your sparkling to crawl up to you and put both of his parent's hands in one another's. He wanted you two to know how much you meant to one another. For many years you were by one another's side and cared about each other so much that you made him!

"I do love you. You were the first being that I laid my one-way sight on and thought I wanted you. You were the first being that I held the high honor of sharing and receiving the love of. And that is something that not even I, a longtime Decepticon, can lie about."

🧪 Looking up from your hand and into your eyes, he motioned to lay your head on his like you always would before that day and asked;

"Do you still share that opinion... about loving one another...?"

"...How can I not love you, Shockwave...?"

»–•–«

🧪 From that day forward, you stayed with your Conjunx until his eventual arrest by the Elite Guard. And as he was taken away, you asked Ultra Magnus if you could ride the rest of the way home with your son saying his goodbyes until you gained access to visit him in prison

🧪 Ultra Magnus was tired from the constant journeys being taken and just nodded, before saying that he was having Jetfire and Jetstorm sit with you to make sure no other 'Con tried anything while you and the two were vulnerable

🧪 The whole ride home proved useful for the Guard to see the care that laid inside of the seemingly-careless being. The way he held you and your sparkling even made the toughest members like Ratchet and Prowl feel slightly bad for his predicament. It was obvious he cared for his family more than his loyalty to the cause... if only he just was honest with his allegiance

»–•–«

🧪 The sound of small steps and larger one echoed throughout the prison, making the criminals in their cells roll their eyes and groan in annoyance as the now slightly-older Seismic proudly stated his meeting of his father after a couple weeks of no contact per the Elite Guard's policy when examining a convict's sentencing

🧪 You smile gently as the young mech waved at other 'Cons that he grew slightly close to due to their much kinder attitudes than others. One being Blitzwing, who, no matter the mood, would smile and wave at the sparkling and tell him a small joke as he passed

"It's good to see you so happy, Seismic. Are you happy to see Daddy after so long?" You asked as he jumped and began to let his tiny antennae on his head move. He was like his father if he was slightly, or rather a lot more, emotionally expressive.

"Yeah! You did say Daddy had a surprise for me too, right?" He asked. You just nodded and smiled once again as he began asking what it was while you approached the room that Optimus asked you to meet at.

🧪 The blue mech smiled and waved at you before giving you and your son a hug and asked if you were here for Shockwave. You just chuckled and nodded, making the Prime reach towards the receptionist and ask for the key for both a set of cuffs, a room, and a cell

🧪 Eventually, Sentinel and Ultra Magnus arrived, a small smile bestowed your sight as the head of the Elite Guard motioned for the two Primes to unlock the room and allow the convict outside

🧪 Seismic began to shake excitedly as you held onto his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze as you saw your adoring Conjunx walk out and hold his cuffed wrists to Optimus. He unlocked them and handed them to Sentinel before stepping back and allowing you and your son access to hold your love close

🧪 While you watched Shockwave speak to his and your sparkling with joy and love flashing in his lonely eye, you looked at Ultra Magnus and asked the ongoing question;

"How much longer is his sentencing?"

"A few more orbital cycles, perhaps 2 more solar cycles. Right now his behavior and actions are what counts best, and if his polite and, what we declare a good decision making set when it comes to our standards and society, continues, he should be out sooner. We would still have someone watching him though."

"Ultra Magnus, sir?"

"Yes, Y/N?"

"Thank you for doing this for Seismic and me, really."

🧪 Ultra Magnus smiled gently at you and nodded

"It was no problem. Now, I recommend you spend as much time as you can here with your Conjunx and sparkling. Who knows when we can fit this in our schedule again." He joked.

🧪 Nodding and walking towards your two most beloved beings in the galaxy, the leader of the Guard smiled and looked at the doorway as it closed, allowing the family some privacy

Solus would be proud of your happy ending, Y/N...

[doublel27]

I’ve been thinking about Moo’s very publicly r video essay ever since @petrichoraline and I were talking about Moo’s very public declaration of his relationship here and the irony is if no one had said anything to Moo there’s a chance he wouldn’t have done anything.

In episode 8, Neth and Kang had already convinced him he might need to be quiet about their relationship. Kang and Moo agreed that “as long as we know” it doesn’t matter what other people do or don’t know.

And I think it was even worse for Moo because the dance video wasn’t a declaration of anything. That’s what he states before making the Kang fan edit. The video he was asked to delete was simply just boys dancing. And as an idol, he’s gonna be dancing on stage with a lot of boys. He’s probably already posted clips with Tae and Yos as well.

And sure it’s different because Kang isn’t also out here trying to be a dancer and he is Moo’s boyfriend. But a lot of what he was being asked to tone down were things that were what Moo considers normal. And I think that’s what made him so angry when everyone asked him to take the video down. Shone and Moo’s mom didn’t know they were boyfriends from that clip. To Moo’s point that wasn’t an announcement.

And as @luthienmpl points out here it’s not like Moo didn’t very publicly court Kang at school where everyone knows he’s written Kang a song and sang it over the intercom and gave away food for people who congratulated them on being boyfriends. There’s information out there.

Moo got mad at the idea he would have to lie. And everyone was insisting they weren’t asking him to lie, but to not share. To Moo, who if the thought is in his head it’s out of his mouth, omitting facts, deleting posts because of how someone might interpret it even if it’s not explicit what the video is of, to cut parts of himself off, well that’s a lie. After being pushed too far by the repeated requests by others to be less, he snapped with the very loud video of l not only do I have a boyfriend but let me tell you all about him and why he’s perfect.

With the preview showing that the contract is going to say expressly no relationships and Moo’s determination to not lie and Kang being the bluest boy (who tend to be martyrs….I am very curious where Only Boo is going with this story. As I am curious where Thame Po will take this story as they’re doing a similar line.

Another show with a similar storyline from GMM, Be My Favorite just dropped in 2023 and I adored it, but they took a particular stance on this conundrum. You should watch it, but spoilers…in one of the futures Kawi makes for himself, he ends up an idol and is at first delighted to find himself living what he thought was an impossible dream. But it’s quickly clear that he is miserable, drinking. He had gotten his dream girl Pear, but she left him because he wouldn’t marry her and start a family. As an idol, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give her the time, attention, and public commitment she was looking for. We also find out that Piesang disappeared around the same time. It’s heavily implied after Kawi chases Piesang and kisses him drunkenly, that Kawi probably did something similar after Pear left as Piesang says “You cannot keep doing this.” (They’d had a similar moment in episode six but this made it feel like we had a bigger pattern and explained his absence)

In the final future, Kawi is happily a songwriter, making songs for other people to sing. It’s the future Kawi chose knowing where the idol path sent him. Piesang even questions him on it. He asks Kawi if he gave up on those dreams because of Piesang and Piesang offers to hide if that’s what it takes. Kawi, thanks to the power of time travel, tells Piesang he’s absolutely certain he couldn’t be happier if he traveled that path. Only misery lies that way. Kawi’s whole lesson though is about making choices in the moment that spark joy rather than letting fear or jealousy lead your choices and living a life that makes you truly happy.

Only Boo, of course, is a very different show with a very different lead. Moo is 1000 times more confident and certain than Kawi ever could hope to be. He knows what he wants and while everyone sees them as two disparate pictures, Moo sees them fully integrated. He’s also a much younger character, just out of high school and has yet to face the reality of what it means to be an idol beyond getting to do the things he loves most and feels confident about.

Thame-Po will take us somewhere entirely different with an idol at the peak of their game who signed their right to a personal life away at a much younger age.

So when confronted with a contract that explicitly says you cannot date and Moo, who has no interest in lies of omission or hiding his boyfriend, and is in fact highly reactionary to people insisting he delete rather innocuous posts incase someone wants to speculate…I am very interested in the choices that will get written in here.

It is especially interesting considering the the litany of drama that has come out of highly entitled fan reactions to social media posts and in some cases leaked videos of Thai artists in their own home. Sure, everyone is trying to “protect” Moo in theory, but entitled fans will be entitled whether you hide your personal life entirely or not. These types of fans seem to exist across fandoms of many types and with a level of wild inappropriateness regardless of how open or closed a celebrity is to others. If they post too much with someone that’s a sign. If they avoid posting with someone that’s a sign. Like…there’s no winning.

And to that point, what is the takeaway going to be for Moo as he is faced with a moral dilemma and the two things he wants most in conflict? And what is the messaging going to be from Only Boo/GMM about young idols and talent (as the two leads of this show are) and their rights to their own lives? And are we gonna talk about the extra layer of homophobia of it all or because the fact that even straight relationships seem to be a PR nightmare for some talent, that GMM/Only Boo is content to leave it ambiguous for now?

[harlowsbby]

Come See Me

“I don’t know if you love me anymore, I don’t know if you love me like before.” - Rod Wave.

You sighed as you looked down at your phone seeing the text you sent to Jack over an hour ago was still very much left on delivered.

Jack 💘

- Just call me when you’re close and I’ll come out.

The two of you were meant to go out and have dinner together and just end the night together because as of lately all he’s been doing is going out and obviously working which you didn’t have a issue with but at the same time you did.

You missed him dearly but whenever you told him that you wanted to spend more time with him it always somehow ended up in an argument.

He always saw it as you being a bit selfish although he’d never tell you that.

You sighed as you leaned back into the couch and thought back to previous arguments with Jack.

You hated the way you had the beg the man that you loved to spend time with you. It made you overthink your entire relationship and whether or not he even loved you the same anymore.

Flashback.

“Are we seriously going over this again? I thought we talked about this a few nights ago Y/N.” Jack clenched his jaw trying his best not to let his anger get the best of him.

The tension in the air was very thick. Both of you feeding off of each other’s energy and anger.

“Well I’m not fully over it and I’d rather talk things out with you then get all upset and go to bed mad at each-other.”

You argued back and crossed your arms over your chest. “So let’s talk, go ahead you start because I don’t even know what you’re upset about now.”

Jack stated and sat down on the couch and looked up at you.

By the irritated expression on his face you could tell this was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight, but he knew you weren’t going to sleep till you spoke your mind.

“Can you at least act like you care? Or is caring above you as well.” You tried mumbling under your breath but Jack heard you loud and clear.

“What are you on about? Of course I care.” He tried defending himself.

“Oh do you?” You were only shocked. “Because as of lately it seems like you don’t care about me or our relationship at all.”

Jack’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as his lips formed into a frown. “What do you mean?” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“You’re kidding me right? You’re always out in the studio, out with friends late at night and whenever you do make it home I’m always asleep or stuck at work myself!!”

You yelled at him and watched as his face softened but soon harden.

“You’re serious? I can’t go out and have alone time by myself anymore. I’m meant to be inside with you 24/7? Y/N.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying Jack I just want you here with me sometimes. I wanna wake up in the mornings with my boyfriend next to me and spend time with you. I never see you anymore!!” You spat at him and watched as he stood up.

The two of you were now somewhat at eye level. His face was red in anger.

“I’m a rapper Y/N, I have fans to please and a label that needs me. I’m actually somebody.” That one stung and it honestly took you off guard.

You shook your head at him and chuckled darkly. “You don’t get it but maybe I’m the one that doesn’t get it considering you’re a celebrity right? You’re actually someone right?” He sighed.

“I didn’t mean it like that baby.” He tried reaching out for you only for you to take a step back.

“I think it’s best you sleep downstairs tonight.” He smacked his lips. “Come on baby I didn’t mean it like that.” You shook your head at him.

“It’s fine really Jack.” You lied and went to bed that night with a heavy heart.

Flashback over

Ever since that day Jack has been trying his best to make things right between the two of you. The keyword in the sentence is the word ‘trying’.

You looked down at your phone seeing you had gotten a notification that Urban posted onto his story via Instagram.

You opened up the app and clicked on his story you smiled seeing he was with a bunch of his friends which you assumed were at the newest karaoke bar that opened up down the street.

You were about to exit out the app and call up Jack when you noticed a familiar head of curls in the video. You brought the phone closer to your face and squinted your eyes a bit.

“This isn’t gonna do much justice.” You sighed and exited out Urban’s story, maybe you were paranoid there was no way Jack was going to stood you up. He wanted to make this relationship work right? He wanted the two of you to live happily ever after right?

Your phone lit up again and you saw Urban posted yet another story to his page. You were gonna let it go and not even worry about it but something was telling you to look.

“Fuck it.” You said and quickly went to Instagram and clicked on the story but immediately regretted it.

In the video there was Jack clear as day in the background talking to some blonde haired chick. Obviously it wasn’t Urban’s intentions to film Jack he just so happened to be in the background.

Urban was meant to be recording Ace who was trying his hardest to hit the high notes in a Whitney Huston song but was failing miserably.

In the background near the tv stood Jack and the mystery women.

You could see him handing her back a phone which you assumed was her phone. Which made you automatically assume he must’ve given her his number.

You wanted to message him and to go down there and go off but honestly you had no more energy in you to keep this relationship going.

“I guess this was what celebrities do huh?” You whispered to yourself and shook your head. All you could do was grab your car keys and purse and leave. You weren’t about to stick around and be played with.

(Just a little angst inspired by Rod Wave’s song Come See Me, it isn’t the best but enjoy it 😭💘)

[sonoftydeusthemusical]

My friend has never heard of Diomedes before; how would you describe him? Like his motivations, his way of thinking, his strengths and weaknesses, his relationships, major plot points?

(I would explain him myself but I'm still not that far in the Iliad.)

Hello, thank you soooo much for this ask and sorry for the late reply!

First of I want to say that we’re by no means experts on Diomedes. We’re still in the process of learning more about him and discovering and exploring him through this musical, so people with a background in ancient studies might have a more detailed/accurate analysis of him than we can provide at the moment. But we still try to answer you to the best of our abilities!

(You’re welcome to correct us in the comments/reblogs ^^” )

In the words of @holy_mother_of_whumpers:

Diomedes kicks ass more than anyone in the Iliad, is scolded more than anyone. Odysseus best friend (according to historians). Shitty childhood (incest, prophesies and and a lot of dead relatives, which is almost as ancient Greek backstories go), shitty post Troy (banished from his city, cursed by Aphrodite). Actually happy ending (founder of cities, immortalized by Athena).

He’s like Odysseus, but with an unbelievably tragic childhood and less disaster energy. He gets stuff done and slays doing it

But here’s our answer…sorry if this is turns out too long!

Starting out with your question about his motivations

Oath bound, Diomedes avenged his fathers death at the age of 14, sacking the city of Thebes (the epic surrounding it is called “Epigoni” but unfortunately it’s a story lost to history, also he was 4 when he took the oath, should that count rly? shouldn't there be an age of consent for oaths? anyway)

The story surrounding his fathers death is tragic and a bit disgusting (he ate brain and Athena who wanted to gift him immortality was too disgusted to do so)

Diomedes doesn’t remember his father, and he still gets compared a lot to him (just see Agamemnon low-key trash-talking him by stating how much of a better fighter his father was to motivate him for battle) so that kind of plays into his motivations

Additionally like so many other heroes, glory and honor are definitely also motivations of his. Often it is Athena who pushes or motivates him to many of his greatest deeds and other feats (like wounding Ares, throwing the spear at Dolon, beating everyone in the funeral games,…..yeah Athena HATES loosing)

What’s interesting that despite the fact that he was raised on war, later on – after Troy (and admittedly, even more warfare) – he’s said to have wanted to settle down more, founded his cities in peace (or as peaceful as life for kings was back then haha)

In the Iliad Diomedes is always the first to volunteer, and despite often getting treated rather badly (Nestor kicked him awake, my boy was even sleeping in his armour, Agamemnon calls him a coward) he tends to keep a cool head and doesn’t retaliate (…except that one time….or two?) BUT he also definitely doesn’t take BS, he calls out Agamemnon for being a bad leader when he suggests to leave (Diomedes insists they stay and fight until they won)

For his way of thinking…he’s rather pragmatic, a good strategist (mentored by athena), first to jump into the fray, trusts his own strength, knows when to back down/when to talk back, can get caught up in the heat of the moment in battles, doesn’t shy away from violence, lies & trickery…. (correct me on this if I'm wrong or missed something)

Strengths & Weaknesses

One thing that makes him stand out among the other heroes is that arguably, he’s one of the few greek heroes whose lives don’t end in a complete tragedy because of his hubris against the gods (…….wellll………..his wife betraying him after he injured aphrodite and being exiled for arogs is an instant where he still pays for his acts against the goddess, but its tame compared to many other heroes fates, who committed lesser crimes) and in the end he even gets deitified (or at least in some versions, like athena wanted to do with his father, but his father messed upppppp so…..)

He’s more level headed than many other heroes (cough Odysseus “i am in the infamous odysseus” King of Ithaca)

He’s one of the best fighters - or THE best fighter of the greeks next to Achilles, the trojans were more scared of him than of Achilles (….since Achilles didn’t fight) without him the Achaeans….would’ve probably lost the war

As for his weaknesses….one thing is something that’s not even within his own control: his young age (compared to the other kings), almost nobody realllyyyy respects him despite his badass deeds on the battlefield and good battle advice, his many ships he brought and his battle experience even before the war and two) the kind of lingering shame of his fathers final moments (nom nom brain, and failing to take Thebes), but also his fathers supposed greatness that he keeps getting compared to and has to live up to

Now…..his relationships…oh boy theres so many, I’ll try to sum up the most important ones I know in once sentence for each

His family:

His father: he doesn’t remember him, but people keep bringing him up and comparing him to him

We dont know much about his relationship with his mother

most…of his other (male) relatives die in his early youth (which is how he ends up as King of Argos) like his grandfathers, and his uncles…

The achaean kings:

Agamemnon: the boss who’s a bully, but Diomedes talks back to him sometimes at least (…unless he’s insulting him, he just accept that)

Ajax: Diomedes almost kills him during the funeral games….the acheans have to break up the fight

Achilles: Diomedes doesn’t like him, Dio is the only one who wants him punished for killing Diomedes cousin that everyone else hated

Odysseus: LOTS of tea to be found here (he seems to see Ody as a mentor figure and keeps picking him as companion for missions, they both have Athena as their patron goddess but while Odysseus leans a little bit more on the wisdom part, Diomedes leans more into the pure strength of battle, they work well together and have a bunch of missions together)

Comrades

Most noteable are Sthenelus (known him since early childhood) and Euryalus, who are with him in Troy, they were part of the Epigoni (its rly a long story)

His wife: is his cousin, he marries her to strengthen his rulership, in the end, its said that she betrayed him with a new lover and exiled him from his own kingdom (another long story)

Glaucus: they met on the battlefield and realized their grandfathers were bro’s so they didnt fight each other, and instead exchanged armours (but Diomedes got the better, golden armour, while Glaucus got the bronze armour..)

There is sooooo much more to say about him, all the stories of the Iliad, the events before AND after it, his relationship with Athena, etc. I barely scratched the surface here so maybe we have to make a whole series of posts about this one day so we can get more into detail because its so much! (Let us know if we should???)

I hope this answered some of your questions, though! And again thank you so much for your interest and apologies for the late reply!