#charming ? more like masking ✨️

[pirateswhore]

Emma Swan: I'm a human lie detector. I can tell when you're lying.

me: honey thats autism

[redvexillum]

Well, this was just asking for a companion piece to my other two story C☆CKWARMING and ROUGH S☆X, so thank you for that. I dedicate this story to @kewpikayo. Listen, I dedicated yesterday's story to your wife, it only makes sense this story should be dedicated to you - after all, Dew & Kew FOREVER! 💖

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, human!alastor, alastor is dom, reader is sub, pain kink, reader is masochistic, alastor is sadistic, bad BDSM etiquette, no safe word, no after care, blood play, biting, spanking, rough ☆ral s☆x, p in v, c☆m outside, c☆m eating, implied period-typical racism

✨️ Companion piece to C☆CKWARMING and ROUGH S☆X. This story is the origin of where it all started. ✨️

A low, irritated growl simmered in Alastor’s throat as he watched you—Daddy’s sheltered little girl—stumble back, arms flailing as the load you carried slipped from your grip. You landed unceremoniously on the ground, the papers and boxes you’d been carrying spilling around you like fallen leaves. The sight was exasperating, yet all too familiar; he wasn’t sure whether to sigh, sneer, or simply walk away. 

Instead, he felt his left eye twitch as he forced his grin wider, an increasingly tight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Each muscle in his face strained against his better judgment, but he bent down, begrudgingly extending a hand to help you up. 

And there it was: the way your cheeks bloomed crimson as you looked up at him, hesitantly taking his hand as if touching him was some kind of privilege. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have thrived on this—the adoration, the bashful flush, the clear admiration in your eyes that so many others had shown him. The mere idea of having another fan should’ve filled him with smug satisfaction. But not this time. 

No, there was one pesky fact that dulled the thrill. 

From the beginning, breaking into the radio world had been an uphill battle. The station was his dream, and to make it a reality, he’d had to secure an investor. But with his humble roots, Alastor had needed more than a charming smile; he needed money, power, and someone with influence willing to back a stranger like him. And so he’d found himself entangled with a wealthy patron—a man who agreed to fund him… under one condition. 

He had to hire you.

You. 

His patron’s clumsy, insipid little daughter, the perpetual thorn in his side. Each time he thought he’d seen every mistake a person could make, you’d invent a new one, blundering through tasks with astonishing incompetence. His nerves frayed more with every passing day as he forced himself to breathe, to smile, to tell you gently that "everyone makes mistakes." The words tasted like rot in his mouth. 

Alastor considered himself a patient man. A forgiving man. But everyone has their limits. 

And you, quite simply, were his. 

He took a slow, seething breath, plotting as he felt the spark of a plan take root. If he could get you to quit on your own, perhaps he could still keep the funding—maybe, if he played his cards right, he could even sway your father to his side without the added irritation of watching you trip over your damn feet every three steps. 

So he began to freeze you out. Day after day, he kept his distance, watching from the corner of his eye as you struggled on, hoping his chilly demeanour would drive you away. But you were far too talkative, your relentless cheer slipping through the cracks of his carefully crafted mask. Every time he steeled himself to ignore you, there you were, talking at length about how much you loved his show, how much his puns and wordplay made you laugh, how his humour lifted your spirits. 

The way your eyes sparkled when you praised him—it should have been satisfying. Instead, it was infuriating. 

Yet, against his better judgment, he found himself responding. Something in the glint of your smile made his guarded grin relax, if only for a moment. Begrudgingly, he’d join in, rolling his eyes at your endless enthusiasm but unable to entirely dismiss it. It was as if you were some parasitic creature, a leech drawing life from him, clinging on with no intention of letting go. 

And he endured—patient, calculating, waiting for you to tire of him. 

But then came the last straw. His beloved broadcast, his dream, was starting to slip through his fingers. Listeners dropped off, each patron he had worked tirelessly to convince backed out one by one. Every investment vanished like smoke. And with it, his patience thinned to a knife’s edge, fraying with each setback. Months of self-restraint, of resisting his baser urges, of refraining from any “extracurricular activities” in favour of keeping his show alive, felt like sacrifices crumbling underfoot. 

And he blamed you. 

Though in truth, your mistakes weren’t drastic enough to ruin his business, but they were enough to tear away at his sanity: the times you forgot to pick up his dry cleaning, spilled coffee on his meticulously crafted script—one he knew by heart—or neglected to take his typewriter in for maintenance, forcing him to painstakingly handwrite his next segment. Small annoyances, but they added up, each one tightening the coil of irritation within him. 

Today, though, something snapped. It started with a simple spill, water glistening on the polished wooden floor of his office. As you bent down to hurriedly wipe it, your hand brushed against his glass vase, sending it crashing to the ground in a cascade of shattered crystal. The shards sparkled around you, a mocking reflection of the life he felt slipping into chaos. 

In one swift movement, he had you pinned against the wall, his hands braced beside your head, his body pressing close. He could feel the heat radiating from you, his knee slipping between your legs, lifting just enough to keep you fixed in place. The room felt smaller, the air charged with something he couldn’t name, something that sent a thrill down his spine as he watched the flush creep up to your cheeks. 

“I have never met anyone as clumsy and foolish as you,” he murmured, his voice low, menacing. Though his mouth held its trademarked grin, his eyes burned, dark and narrowed, a storm barely restrained. 

“Ah, u-uhm,” you stammered, your eyes darting away, body trembling before him. 

“Look. At. Me.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up, so your gaze was locked with his. 

Deep down, Alastor knew he was risking everything. You were untouchable—Daddy’s little girl from a family of wealth and power, far beyond his own background. He knew what one accusation could do, one tear sent running back to your father. His dream, his work, his station—he could lose it all before he could snap his fingers, hah! 

But right now, the months of mounting irritation, of resisting every impulse, of pushing down every dark urge—none of it seemed to matter. 

“So-sorry, s-sir,” you whispered, a helpless apology on your lips. And at that moment, something snapped within him. The rush of power, the slight tremor in your voice, the glimmer of fear in your eyes—it was intoxicating. 

His fingers itched with desire, a pulse of longing, dark and primal. 

He wanted to choke you, see the life dull from your eyes, kill you. 

It had been so long since he’d indulged, felt the thrill of being in control, of bending someone to his will. Slowly, his hand slipped down, brushing along the column of your neck, fingers tracing the soft, vulnerable skin. 

Just a small squeeze. Just a taste.

The moment his hand rested there, he felt the rapid beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips, sensed the quick rise and fall of your breath. Your pupils widened, darkening with something that wasn’t just fear, and he nearly laughed at the realization. 

You were… enjoying this. 

“Was it all on purpose, dear?” His voice dropped to a dark murmur, lips just a breath away from your ear, close enough that he could feel the heat of you. “Did you want this to happen? Have you been fantasizing about this with me?” His leg shifted, pressing upward, his knee sliding dangerously close to the warmth of your core, your skirt sliding higher as he held you in place. 

There was no escape for you, nowhere to look but at him, and he could hear your heart pounding louder, a heat blooming that had nothing to do with fear. The line between his anger and desire blurred, each breath he shared with you pulled him deeper into something he couldn’t resist. 

“Did you want to be punished by me?” Alastor’s voice was a low, dangerous purr, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he held you there, watching your every response. The softest moan slipped from your lips, unbidden, and his mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin. 

“Oh, dear,” he murmured, clicking his tongue in mock reproach. “How utterly deviant, depraved, you are.” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing the edge of your ear. Every sound, every whisper, heightened the tremble in your muscles as your body gave in to his hold. 

Alastor felt the thrum of his own pulse, a deep, carnal need that was building to an undeniable point. He’d known desire before, but never this tangled web of control and raw hunger that he felt with you pinned so willingly beneath him. 

To his dark amusement, he felt the tightening in his pants as he took in every inch of your flushed, submissive form. You were an enticing little thing, and now, the line he’d never meant to cross was beginning to blur. 

A tempting thought crossed his mind. “If I fulfill your desire, will you fulfill mine, dear?” His voice was a low, velvet promise as he pressed his knee firmly against your core, feeling the heat of you even through the fabric. His grin grew, an expression laced with a dangerous delight. “How utterly sinful you are, hiding that desire under a mask of innocence.” 

“I-I would do anything you’d like, sir,” you whispered, breath hitching, your hands glued to your side.

Keeping his eyes locked with yours, Alastor pulled back, though he didn’t allow enough distance for you to look away—or see the intensity of his arousal pressing through his trousers. 

“Let me give you what you want,” he murmured. “One good, hard fuck, and I,” his voice turned sweet as he tilted his head, his gaze narrowing with intent, “want you to quit for good, after ensuring that Daddy keeps his generous funding for me.” He brushed his fingers along your cheek, a mockingly gentle caress. “What do you say, dear? Do we have a deal?” 

You hesitated, looking into his eyes, the flush of your cheeks deepening as your lip caught between your teeth. “Hard f-fuck?” you stuttered, voice soft yet bold, your fingers hovering near his chest before you finally dared to touch him, briefly tugging at the lapels of his jacket. “You don't find that strange?” 

Alastor didn't care how unusual your desire was. As long as he got what he wanted at the end, that was all that mattered to him. 

The end always justified the means. 

A dark laugh slipped from him, and he tightened his grip, one hand sliding up to tangle in your hair, fingers pulling enough to tip your head back as he leaned in. He pressed himself against you, his hardness now unmistakable against your stomach, his lips grazing yours in the lightest, tantalizing tease. 

“Eyes on me, darling,” he commanded softly, releasing his hold on you just enough to let his thumb trail down your lip as he took a small step back, watching you. “Now,” his voice dropped to a dark whisper, “strip.” 

To his delight, you hesitated, only for a heartbeat. Your cheeks flushed in that shade of pretty pink he found almost as irresistible as your trembling compliance. But then, slowly, you began undoing the buttons of your blouse, your fingers shaking slightly as you slipped the fabric from your shoulders, baring yourself to his gaze. 

Heat surged in his veins, not only from the sight of you, but from the delicious power thrumming in his veins. This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was control, a feeling as heady as the thrill of holding someone’s life in his hands. 

But tonight, he was going to savour every second of holding you in the palm of his hand. 

As your clothes slipped away, one by one, you stood bare before him, your skin glistening in the dim light, the cool air teasing your erect nipples. He stepped closer, the sharp click of his heels against the polished wood. “Someone might come in, dear; are you aware of that? I left the door unlocked, after all.” His voice dripped with sadistic glee.

Your breath hitched, and your gaze flicked nervously to the doorknob, before you paled, realizing it was indeed unlocked. You had no idea that his workers had all quit once they heard wind of the investors backing out. 

Yet, you stood your ground, your eyes meeting his with a potent mix of fear and unyielding resolve. There was a trust there—a dangerous, intoxicating trust—that he knew he didn’t deserve but was all too willing to take. 

“Kneel,” he commanded, and your knees hit the floor without hesitation. His lips curled into a wicked grin as he closed the distance, his hips thrusting forward enticingly. “Show me just how much you want it, dear.” His voice was sultry and low, coaxing you into surrender. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and pants, pulling them down to reveal his half-hard cock, thick and waiting for you. 

You inhaled sharply, before you pressed your lips to the tip while looking up at him, waiting for his next command. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and you obeyed, “Tongue out,” he added, and your tongue slipped out from your lips, eager to please him. 

With a firm grip on your hair, he guided your head forward, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. A low, primal groan escaped him, echoing off the walls of the office. It had been far too long since he’d indulged in such raw pleasure, and the thrill of having complete control over you heightened his arousal. This was not the gentle foreplay he was used to; this was a deliciously crude act of dominance that made his heart race. 

He couldn’t help but imagine how his mother would disapprove of his treatment of you. But you craved this, wanted him in ways that thrilled and terrified you both. It felt like a dark dance of power—a beautiful, twisted exchange that neither of you could resist. 

With each thrust, he lost himself deeper in your warmth, the sensation of your soft, wet mouth engulfing him driving him to the edge. He revelled in the control he wielded, in the way you surrendered to his desires, your submission stoking the one lukewarm drive within him. 

The best part of this exchange? He was going to remain on top, remain in control, remain in power, both in the deal struck and the way he devoured you. 

When he called you depraved, a deviant, your heart sank. Deep down, you knew it was true; your desires were unconventional, perhaps even strange. You had been with other men before, yet none had ever come close to scratching the itch that Alastor stirred within you. 

Every word he spoke about you rang true. Yes, you had a crush on him. Yes, you often found yourself lost in naughty, impure thoughts about him. Still, you yearned to keep those thoughts hidden, for working for him had become the highlight of your months. 

For once, you felt needed, desired, and useful—feelings that seemed to vanish the moment you returned home, where you faced the disappointment of your parents after yet another failed meeting with a suitor. The worry etched on their faces suggested they feared you might become a spinster.

The thought of Alastor wanting you to quit stung. It felt as if your dreams were crumbling around you, and the realization that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings hurt more than you cared to admit. But if you could have him for the first and last time, you wanted it to be an unforgettable memory. 

What Alastor would never realize was that you would never allow your father to withdraw his support from him financially. You loved his show genuinely, and you wanted to see him succeed and thrive. You believed in him wholeheartedly, confident that one day he would achieve the success he deserved, so he wouldn’t have to bargain for your father’s backing. 

As his hot, heavy cock filled your mouth, you felt a rush of heat flush through your body. You gagged slightly when the tip pressed against the back of your throat, a combination of pleasure and slight panic washing over you. The salty taste of him overwhelmed your senses, and you glanced up, seeing Alastor’s eyes closed in pure ecstasy. His fingers gripped your hair, the pressure varying as he slowly rolled his hips, the head of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. 

Each time you choked on him, you felt the violent twitch of his cock, and a small, heady low moan from him. It seemed he relished the sounds you made, and you focused on creating a tight seal around him, sucking with all the enthusiasm you could muster. But the bliss was abruptly cut short when he pulled your hair, yanking you off his cock. A glistening strand of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your lips, then fell, leaving a tiny droplet on the floor. 

“Messy girl,” he teased, and you could see the hard anger in his eyes fade, replaced by a gleam of something more raw and animalistic. He was enjoying this, and your heart raced at the thought. “Always making a mess of all my things.” His gaze flickered to the shattered vase on the floor, but thankfully, none of the fragments had reached where you knelt. “What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Your shoulders jumped as you looked up at him, your voice trembling. “I’m so—” But before you could finish, he thrust his cock back down your throat. You gagged again, tears springing to your eyes as you grasped at his thighs for stability. 

The struggle for breath was real, but Alastor didn’t relent, pushing deeper until your vision blurred from the lack of air. You fought to breathe through your nose, panic mingling with arousal. Just when you thought you might pass out, he finally pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, your body bowed low as coughs escaped your lips, mixed with tears and saliva spilling from your mouth. 

“I should punish you, shouldn’t I?” Alastor purred, his voice smooth like silk as he sauntered over to the single-seat couch in the corner of his office. His cock stood proudly, glistening with your saliva, an inviting sight that made your heart race. He patted his knee, an invitation that sent a shiver down your spine. “Come.” 

A flutter of excitement mixed with trepidation filled you as you quickly stood up, your legs feeling slightly unsteady as you approached him. When you reached him, your stomach flipped with a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. His gaze roamed hungrily over your body, settling on your slick folds, and he hummed a low note of approval. Slowly, he extended his hand, sliding a finger between your inner folds before teasingly flicking your sensitive clit. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you doubled over, almost collapsing onto his lap. You could see the wicked glint in his eyes as he observed the slickness on his finger before bringing it to his mouth, tasting you. “Hmm,” he hummed, a smirk played on his lips. “Lay on my lap, stomach down.”

Your mind spun with a mix of confusion and apprehension. You complied, laying across his lap, your gaze dropping to the floor, heart racing. You felt the heat of his hard cock pressing against your side, and his hand began to stroke the gentle curve of your ass, sending sparks of desire coursing through you. 

“Have you ever been punished before, my dear?” he asked suddenly, his tone teasing yet serious. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “Have you ever been spanked before?” he corrected himself with a soft chuckle. 

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you shook your head. “N-no, my mama and papa never laid a hand on me like that,” you admitted quietly, unsure where Alastor was going with this. 

“Ah, it all makes sense now,” he mused, his hand continuing to caress your ass, fingers grazing your drenched folds. The teasing touch was just enough to send waves of heat pooling in your core, igniting a desperate need within you. You wanted him to delve deeper, to flick your clit until you were begging for release. 

“Let me give you a lesson on what we do to spoiled princesses,” Alastor remarked, his voice dripping with mock cheer. 

Before you could utter a word, you felt a sharp slap against your left cheek. The sting radiated through you, a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure that made tears prick at your eyes. You stifled a cry, fingers clenching at his pants in a desperate bid for control. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his tone devoid of any sympathy, only curiosity. 

You nodded vigorously, the truth washing over you. 

“Excellent,” he replied, a smirk curling at his lips before he raised his hand again, delivering another sharp slap to the same spot. The pain was intense, yet thrilling, and you felt a tear escape, rolling down your cheek as your body reacted in ways you never thought it could. 

Before you could beg him to stop, you felt his fingers plunge deep into your core, rubbing and massaging against your walls. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, quickly morphing into a heady moan as your body instinctively wiggled, seeking more of his touch. The slick sound of his fingers squelching inside you mixed with your cries, blending the initial pain into a dizzying rush of pleasure. 

Suddenly, an insatiable hunger ignited within you. You hadn’t realized how exquisitely pain and pleasure could intertwine. “Please, sir, m-more,” you mewled, unable to hold back the desperate need spilling from your lips as you turned your tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. Your heart raced, overwhelmed by the heady blend of emotions and sensations. 

Alastor’s fingers stilled inside you, his eyes darkening as they traced over your expression, drinking in your vulnerability. The corners of his lips twitched with satisfaction, and you felt the heat of his cock twitching insistently against your side. In a swift motion, he withdrew his fingers, pulling you up and manoeuvring you to straddle his lap. 

Blood rushed to your head, the dull ache of arousal amplifying every sensation. Your breath hitched as you felt the thick tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. With a firm pull, he sank you down onto him, filling you completely to the hilt. 

A scream tore from your throat, a mix of shock and bliss as the delicious stretch enveloped you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the sharp, heat of pleasure as his cock throbbed against your walls. The arousal only mounted as Alastor leaned back against the couch, his mouth slightly parted, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 

Moments later, he opened his darkened eyes. His fingers released your hips, and he commanded, “Move.” 

You hesitated, adjusting to his size, then began to lift yourself up, savouring the emptiness he left behind before sinking back down onto him again. The rhythm felt exhilarating as you rode him, bare and exposed before his hungry gaze. 

His hands found their way to your nipples, fingers grazing your sensitive skin, teasing your areolas with gentle circles. The electric pleasure shot through you, urging you to move faster, each rise and fall sending jolts of pleasure through your body. As you sank back down, he pinched your nipples hard, the sensation exploding through you. 

A sharp cry escaped your lips, mingling with a wave of decadent arousal that crashed over you. Desperation consumed you as you began to grind against his hip, your clit pulsing with need, craving attention, longing for the release that only he could provide. 

“My, you certainly do handle pain in quite a strange way,” Alastor said, his breath coming in heavy, lust-filled gasps as his hips jerked up against you. “Though—hah—I can’t say that I dislike it,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. 

He pulled your body forward, pressing his face between the soft, inviting curves of your breasts. His hips took full control, pistoning his thick cock deep inside you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, rising in a staccato rhythm that matched the desperate cries spilling from your lips. His teeth sank into the tender flesh of your breast, and you felt a delicious blend of pain and elation that blurred the lines of your pleasure. 

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as he bit down harder, his hunger for you evident in the fierce way he held you. Finally, he let go, his breath hot and ragged as he revealed his lips stained crimson with your blood. 

Your heart raced as you looked down, seeing the deep teeth mark oozing with warmth. His tongue flicked across his lower lip, savouring the taste of you as he pressed you even deeper onto his cock. A deep, throaty moan escaped him, the sound raw and primal. 

His eyes glinted with a dangerous hunger, and he bit into the underside of your breast once more, drawing another cry from your lips as his cock throbbed insistently against your walls. Instantly, the world flipped, and your back hit the cold floor, the shock sending sparks of mind-numbing pleasure coursing through you. Alastor's every bite left a blazing trail of sensation, a heady mix of sharp pain and bliss. His teeth glistened with crimson, and he began to thrust into you with desperation, each powerful movement sending waves of euphoria radiating from your core. 

It was overwhelming—the way he drilled into you, the way his hips slapped against your clit with a relentless intensity. The wet sound of skin against skin filled the air, mingling with the cacophony of his moans and your cries. Just as he sank his teeth into your other shoulder, you felt a blinding rush of pleasure, a bright flash that took you over the edge. You shattered around him, your body convulsing in waves of pure bliss as he continued to thrust, driving you deeper into ecstasy. 

Sobbing with a mixture of overstimulation and overwhelming emotion, drool trickled from your lips as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. You clung to him, the intense heat of your orgasm washing over you in a torrent. When he finally withdrew, Alastor positioned himself above you, pumping his cock vigorously, each stroke pulling a raw, primal growl from deep within him. The gleaming head of his cock pointed toward you, dripping with unsatisfied lust. 

With a low, guttural sound, he released himself, spurting hot, milky liquid that mingled with the crimson of your blood, swirling together into a beautiful shade of pink. The warmth splattered across your face, your neck, and trickled down the curve of your chest, marking you as his. 

When he finally let go, he gazed down at you with a mix of desire and admiration. “My, how pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his eyes glazed and wild with an unquenchable hunger. 

Your heart raced at his words, and you lay still, the remnants of your orgasm still pulsing through you, each throb a reminder of the heat and sting left by his bites and slaps.

You didn’t dare speak as you waited for Alastor to gather himself, bracing for the inevitable moment he would fire you. Instead, he did something entirely unexpected. With a slow, deliberate movement, he traced his cum, now mingled with your blood, transforming into a light pink hue across your bottom lip. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something more debased stirring within you. 

He then penetrated your mouth with his finger, the salty, bitter taste flooding your senses. You could taste the metallic tang, and a whisper of disgust escaped your lips as the awful flavour overwhelmed you. 

“I expect to see you tomorrow,” he murmured softly, his gaze locked on your lips, hypnotized as he pistoned his finger in and out of your mouth. Each movement was both gentle and demanding, making you feel utterly exposed. “Perhaps I underestimated your usefulness,” he continued, pressing down on your tongue, forcing you to swallow around him. “If you don’t come, I’ll assume you quit.” 

As he withdrew his fingers, glistening with your saliva, he brought them to his own, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he savoured you, relishing the taste, ignited a forbidden thrill deep within you. 

“Understood,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse yet tinged with submission. The soft addition of “sir” fell from your lips like an offering, and the way his eyes darkened in response sent a jolt of excitement through you. 

His grin stretched wider, a predatory gleam flashing across his features, making you feel like prey caught in the gaze of a hungry predator. You were trapped, utterly captivated by his dominance, and yet there was a part of you that craved it—craved him.

And deep down, you knew you would let him devour you whole, wouldn’t you?

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 22 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

“I’ll go ahead, Jinwoo,” you said softly, giving a brief nod to Adam White, the agent from the American Hunter Bureau. The man returned the gesture politely, professionalism etched into his features. You turned on your heels, already scanning the area for a secluded spot where you could teleport safely without attracting undue attention.

Before you could take more than a few steps, a hand gently but firmly grasped your left wrist. The contact stopped you mid-step, and you turned halfway, raising a brow in question.

“Jinwoo—” you started, but his expression stopped you before his words.

“Can you stay?” Jinwoo asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. His tone lacked its usual authority, replaced instead by something softer, almost… vulnerable. And so was his expression, the intensity in his grey eyes as they bore into yours, a quiet plea that he seemed unsure how you would respond to. It wasn’t an order or a casual suggestion—it was a genuine request. “Please.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the request coupled by the earnestness. His hand remained steady on your arm, his grip, while not forceful, neither was it loose.

Jinwoo was not someone who typically asked for anything, let alone in such a way.

You studied his face, weighing your options. Between the uncharacteristic pleading in his eyes, the whisper-soft quality of his voice, and his hold, it was clear he wouldn’t let go as easily as you would’ve liked. And you doubted it would be worth the trouble to try to convince him otherwise.

Still, seriously, of all the days I decide not to wear my mask, you internally lamented on your decision to forgo the subtle charm that helped mask your presence this time for the memorial service.

Despite your internal grumbling, you conceded with a sigh and allowed a small smile to grace your lips as you nodded.

“Alright.” you murmured, voice light.

At your response, Jinwoo’s neutral expression shifted ever so slightly—his features brightened in a way that was barely noticeable unless one was familiar with him. And unfortunately for you, you were.

Adam, meanwhile, shifted awkwardly on the sidelines. You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, suddenly remembering his presence, and felt a pang of sympathy for the agent. He must have felt incredibly out of place in this strange, silent exchange.

Adam cleared his throat, attempting to regain the momentum of the conversation. “Hunter Sung—”

Before he could finish, Jinwoo pulled you closer with a suddenness that caused you to stumble to his side. Your eyes widened slightly as his grip on your wrist slid to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Whatever it is you want to tell me,” Jinwoo said calmly, his tone now laced with that quiet authority, “you can tell her.”

You stared at him, lips parting as if to speak but no words came.

The words were simple enough, it wasn’t so much what he said that caught you off guard—it was how he said it. The conviction in his voice was startling, as if his trust in you was absolute, and his words left no room for argument.

You didn’t even have time to recover when Jinwoo glanced down at you, his lips curving into a faint, warm and confident smile.

“She’s someone I can count on,” he added, as if that explained everything.

Adam blinked, visibly thrown off by Jinwoo’s rather blunt declaration. His gaze flickered between the two of you. “Ah, my apologies,” Adam spoke carefully. “Are you two perhaps…?”

Your head snapped toward Adam so quickly that under normal circumstances, you’d have felt a pang of vertigo.

“No!” you blurted out, voice sharper than intended as heat crept up your neck. Quickly regaining your composure, you cleared your throat before continuing more evenly, “You’ve got it wrong, Mr. White. What my friend here meant is that I’m privy to his… rather unique capabilities as a Hunter, and that I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

You managed to keep your tone as steady as possible, ignoring the subtle tightening sensation on your hand somewhere along your choice of words.

Bless Adam White, because he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded politely, accepting your explanation without comment. “Understood. And please, call me Adam, Miss…?”

Adam stretched out his hand and you accepted it with a smile.

“(Name). Just (Name).”

---

After the conversation wrapped up, Adam escorted both of you to the car waiting nearby. As he excused himself to make a quick call—likely to inform his superiors about the additional “guest” accompanying Hunter Sung—you climbed into the back seat alongside Jinwoo.

It wasn’t until the car began moving that you realized: Jinwoo’s hand was still holding yours.

You glanced down at your entwined fingers, then up at him. Nudging his hand discreetly, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t respond, his face calm and composed as if your silent protests didn’t exist.

You tried again, nudging him a little more insistently. “Jinwoo,” you whispered, “Let go.”

Still, nothing. He remained as nonchalant as ever, his focus seemingly on the passing scenery outside the car window.

Eventually, you gave up, resigned to the situation as you leaned back against the seat. If Jinwoo noticed your surrender, he didn’t show it, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he was aware.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under other’s occasional glances.

From his spot in the front seat, Adam’s eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror. His gaze lingered for a moment before quickly darting away. It was impossible not to, especially after he saw the way the S-ranker’s eyes glowed earlier when you’d referred to him as a “friend.”

Strangely, there was no intel about you, not any that Adam had received anyway. It was as if you went off the radar completely. But how was that possible, if you were this close to Hunter Sung Jinwoo?

The agent glanced between the two of you once or twice and wisely chose to remain silent.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence as Jinwoo sat beside you, his usual demeanor in place as if this casual intimacy was the most natural thing in the world. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel acutely aware of his presence.

The coolness of his hand, how calloused it was.

When his thumb brushed against your skin briefly—a motion so fleeting you almost convinced yourself it didn’t happen.

As the vehicle continue to move nearing your destination, you silently wondered why, despite of it all, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

---

Tis as you said, Mother.

Red’s voice echoed faintly in your mind, amusement dancing at the edges of her words.

She really does have them wrapped around her fingers!

You heard Trick’s giggles next, and the others joined in soon after. A cascade of light chimes in your head, each of them speaking in turn as they observed the woman named Norma Selner through your eyes. Their presence in your thoughts was both comforting and mildly distracting.

Norma, for her part, glanced in your direction briefly, likely sensing your gaze. You offered her a soft, unassuming smile and a polite nod. She returned the gesture before focusing her attention back on Jinwoo.

You mentally praised yourself, your children, and the system for the careful layering of enchantments that blanketed your nature so thoroughly. To fool someone like Norma Selner at first glance—someone with her unique gift—was no small feat.

Speaking of the system…

Are you going to intervene? The tone you used in your mind calm but probing. You know what she’s capable of, don’t you?

The response was silence. Not a sound, not a whisper. Nothing.

You sighed inwardly. Really, the empty reply didn’t surprise you. If the system had no objection, it meant the matter was left to you to handle. Typical.

---

Norma Selner was trapped in darkness.

It stretched infinitely in every direction, the pitch-black void with no sign of life. Nothing but an overwhelming emptiness. An endless abyss, where no light penetrated and no sound carried. The air was cold, almost biting, yet it felt weightless and suffocating all at once.

She turned frantically, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this oppressive nothingness.

Her breathing quickened as she tried to move, but the weight of the void pressed against her limbs, making her movements sluggish. Frantic, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this nothingness.

When her eyes drifted upward, she saw it.

A presence loomed above her, formless yet all-encompassing. Its gaze piercing and ancient, and it was staring back at her, dissecting her, peeling away every layer of her being.

It filled her with an indescribable, primal fear.

A scream clawed at her throat, but before she could release it, a faint glow fluttered at the edge of her vision.

A butterfly.

Delicate and luminous as it danced in the void. A tiny beacon, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness.

“Come with us!” chimed a chorus of soft, bell-like voices.

Her trembling legs moved on instinct, her body scrambling to follow the glittery trail left behind without a second thought.

The abyss seemed to shift as she ran, the oppressive darkness trailing after her, neither rushing nor retreating. Instead, it moved as though it were tethered to the guiding light.

The void began to change.

The darkness beneath her feet gave way to splashes of crimson, blooming into vivid red spider lilies, their petals stark against the blackness. With every step she took, the flowers spread further, their roots twisting into the emptiness and replacing it with something tangible.

Bare feet splashed into shallow water, the sound oddly grounding, sending ripples across its surface. She looked down, startled, to see the night sky reflected perfectly in the liquid mirror beneath her. Above her, stars shimmered like diamonds scattered across the vastness of space.

She came to a stop, breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. The butterfly of light had vanished, leaving her alone amidst the endless field of red flowers that seemed to sway with an unseen breeze. Gone with them the fear that had gripped her prior.

And then she felt it.

Warmth.

It radiated through her body and soul, soothing every nerve and easing every ounce of tension she carried, melting away like frost under the morning sun. She barely noticed as a pair of hands cradled her face gently, tilting it upward.

Norma found herself staring at a figure clad in flowing white. Under the veil, molten gold eyes met her own. They were luminous yet distant, like sunlight filtered through a mist. She couldn’t look away.

The figure exuded an aura of pure, untainted comfort. Norma felt her knees weaken under the weight of their presence, not from fear, but from an overwhelming sense of belonging.

“Wake up,” the figure mouthed, tender yet commanding.

Norma’s lips parted as if to respond, but she couldn’t form the words. Their warmth was intoxicating and she felt herself sinking into the divine embrace, wanting nothing more than to remain there. Forever.

But the words came again, firmer this time, like a gentle pull back to reality.

“Wake up.”

---

Norma Selner jolted awake, gasping for breath.

The fluorescent lights of the meeting room above her felt harsh against her eyes. It was also loud with commotion, voices overlapping as figures moved in her periphery, while she could barely process her surroundings. Everything felt distant and distorted.

“I apologize, Mr. Sung, Miss (Name),” came a calm yet firm voice. It was Michael Conner, the deputy director. His tone carried a measured mix of authority and unease. “Our agents stepped out of line.”

Words were exchanged, but Norma couldn’t register them. Her trembling hands clutched her head, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, though whether from fear or something else entirely, she couldn’t tell

The deputy director’s voice broke through again, this time directed at her.

“Mrs. Selner? What’s wrong?”

She blinked rapidly through her blurred vision, chest still heaving heavily.

“You’re sweating profusely,” Michael said, filled with concern. “Are you feeling ill?”

Norma tried to respond, but her throat felt dry, and her thoughts remained scattered.

“It seems Mrs. Selner isn’t feeling well today,” Michael added, his tone returned to professional and polite as he spoke to Jinwoo. “Can we contact you another time?”

“Wait.”

Somehow, Norma could single out that soft, melodic voice through the haze.

“I’m a healer. I can at least stabilize her condition, if you’ll allow me.”

Michael looked uncertain, but after a quick glance at Norma’s state, he nodded reluctantly. “Please, if you’re able to help her.”

You moved closer to the trembling woman, careful not to overwhelm her with sudden movements. Kneeling beside her, you gently placed your hands on either side of her face. She flinched at the contact, but the moment your magic flowed through her, she stilled.

Like sunlight breaking through clouds, warmth enveloped her once again, though it was softer, less overwhelming than—

Her breathing slowed, and the trembling in her limbs subsided.

Norma finally looked up, meeting your gaze.

“Y-you…” she croaked, her voice hoarse and weak.

“Shh,” you interrupted softly, your tone soothing. “Mrs. Selner, please focus on calming yourself first, alright? Everything else can wait.”

Though your voice was kind, there was a gentle finality to your words. Despite the comfort you exuded, Norma couldn’t shake the weight of something absolute—an unspoken order she had no choice but to obey.

Her lips pressed together in silent compliance as she nodded faintly, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of your touch a moment longer.

---

"My..."

It was faint, distant yet heavy, reverberating with its own brand resonance, an echo from the depths of the pitch-black void.

"My...Lord..."

There it was again—the voice that whispered the moment you connected your space with Norma Selner’s consciousness, delving into the depths of her mind and subsequently brushing against something far older, far darker.

The first time, you stiffened at the sound, not out of fear but from recognition. There was something achingly familiar in the tone, something that resonated deep within you.

"Is…that...you…?"

As you stood at the border, the voice echoed again, closer this time, yet wavering, tinged with denial and something akin to long-lost longing.

"Impos...sible..."

You didn’t move to retreat as shadowy wisps emerged from the abyss, curling outward like hands reaching for you. They stopped mere inches from your form, and it was hard to make out through the ever-changing smoke, but you had a feeling that they were trembling, as if afraid their touch would break the illusion. Or was it unsure of their welcome?

There was a battle in your mind, with two opposing sides.

You should have been alarmed; the situation was rife with danger, uncertainty, and countless unknowns. Yet, you didn’t fully understand why, but you felt no fear. Something in you—a quiet yet inexplicable confidence—assured you that whatever dwelled in this darkness would not harm you.

And so, following the feeling you couldn’t name and ignoring the flicker of logic warning you against it, you raised your hands.

Your palms pressed gently against the shadowy wisps. The tendrils were both intangible and tangible; past the ephemeral smoke, ethereal to the touch, was cold as metal. They quivered at your gesture but didn’t pull away as you slowly guided them to your face, resting their hard edges against your cheeks.

The icy touch reminded you of a certain raven-haired protagonist. You closed your eyes, welcoming their hesitant presence with calm serenity.

"You...are...not..."

The voice grew clearer, imbued with an unplaceable mix of awe and turmoil.

"How...?"

You opened your eyes then, gazing into the abyss with a tenderness that seemed to soften even the restless darkness starting to embrace you whole in accordance to the crumbling space behind you.

You asked, your voice calm, serene.

“Are you upset?”

There was a pause, the silence stretching, until the shadowy thumb brushed against your cheek. Its sharp edges moving with the utmost care, as though they feared leaving a mark on your skin.

"No."

The answer came at last, heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite identify.

"I...do…not...know..."

“Then,” you began, your voice unwavering as you continue to cradle his hands in yours.

“Will you let me see you again soon?”

---

After stabilizing Norma Selner’s condition and ensuring she was in no immediate danger, you and Jinwoo were escorted to his car.

As Adam’s car disappeared down the street, Jinwoo was the first to speak.

“Is it really okay?” his tone measured, though his gaze was sharp as he watched you. “Showing your powers to her like that.”

Your eyes remained on the direction the agent’s vehicle had gone, a butterfly trailed discreetly behind it. Jinwoo spotted the second one you had planted on Norma Selner earlier, fluttering innocuously on her shoulder.

“She only saw a glimpse,” you answered smoothly. “Besides, there’s no point in hiding from someone like her. She’ll find out sooner than later, and I’d rather she learn under my terms.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she’s truly capable of?”

You finally turned to him; your expression as unreadable as they were distant. “Yes.”

“So, I’m guessing it’s a fail?”

You gave him a flat look before answering. “Your powers have no limits, Jinwoo. Her abilities won’t work on you.”

Jinwoo absorbed that information in silence, then added, “Or on you.”

You didn’t confirm or deny it, only staring back at him with an inscrutable gaze.

Between the two of you, this was familiar by now, an indication that this was as far as you could tell him, as far as the system would let you anyway. There was no need for words, and Jinwoo could proudly say that he could take it with a stride now.

He gestured to his car.

“Let me drive you home,” Before you could decline, he added, “I want to talk to you.”

---

The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the space between you. You sat in the front passenger seat, your gaze wandering on the passing scenery outside the window, where other vehicles blur by.

“So,” you began, breaking the quiet, “what is it?”

Jinwoo tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“It’s overdue, I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation. “For back then—at my rank re-evaluation.”

He heard a soft sigh and Jinwoo snuck a quick glance as you shifted in your seat. You were looking straight ahead now, expression still hard to read.

“I should’ve been more careful,” he continued, the words spilling out faster now, tinged with regret. “You told me before, that you wanted to stay hidden, and I should’ve respected that. I admit I got…distracted. Too caught up in wanting to show you how far I’d come. But that’s no excuse for crossing your boundaries like that.”

He took a deep breath before adding, “I’m sorry.”

“Jinwoo…” Your voice was too quiet. He wondered if he somehow messed up again.

“I’m sorry too.”

That was the last thing Jinwoo expected to hear. His grip on the steering wheel momentarily loosening as he caught himself. He shot you a quick glance a second time before returning his eyes to the road.

 “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t—”

“I was high-strung that day,” you cut him off gently, probably already anticipating his protest. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I forgive you. Just…” You paused, turning to look at him. “Just tell me in advance next time you’re planning to pull something like that. Clearly.” You emphasized, though your gaze softened.

“Like when you wanted me to accompany you in meeting the U.S. Hunter Bureau just now.”

The road was mercifully empty as Jinwoo risked another glance at you, and the sight of your expression made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

“Thank you for that.”

The setting sun illuminated your face as you said it sincerely. The way your eyes shine with unmistakable fondness, expression warm and tender. The shy smile tugging at your lips, carrying an undeniable gentleness. Your unwavering attention. All of it—at this moment—directed solely at him.

How utterly lovely.

Jinwoo’s throat felt dry, and he quickly looked back at the road.

“R-right. You’re welcome. I mean—” He stumbled over his words, the tips of his ears burned. “I forgive you too…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your shoulders shaking slightly as you covered your mouth. Failing to prevent a few giggle that managed to slip by.

Jinwoo felt heated up—the warmth a similar kind to when you held hands or when you were in pretty close proximity—and he had half a mind to crank up the AC.

Still, he couldn’t help the giddiness. Because in that moment, he didn’t mind embarrassing himself if it meant hearing your sweet laughter again.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [28/11/2024] -

I want to ask for your opinions this time 🙏

[kairiscorner]

I rewatched the Barbie movie again and I must say, it's one of my favorite movies without hesitation, but I came up with an idea for the Spider-Noir 🖤 x Spider-Barbie Reader 💖 and it's this: Do you remember the scene where Barbie goes to the real world and is harassed by men? Well we know that Barbie Reader can hold her own, but I'm pretty sure Spider-Noir wasn't going to let that happen in this scenario, right?

- Crystal ✨️💞

hello again crystal >:)) OHHH MAN HE WOULD NOT LET THEM GET THEIR HANDS ON HER FRRR

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hands off — spider noir x spider barbie!reader

summary: spider barbie and noir go out and about in town as ordinary people right now—or as normal as normal will allow, because noir is still in spider man mode, and when he is, he does not let a single thing slip from his fingers, especially when it comes to some creeps wanting to get their hands on spider barbie. word count: 562

"wow, peter! this town is very... colorless. colorless, but charming! in a dull kind of way, but it's charming!" barbie remarked with a gleeful smile as she and peter walked hand in hand, looking like complete polar opposites of each others' aesthetics. miss barbie was all decked out in pinks of all shades, with such an elaborate get-up for a sunny day that a lot of people who'd have their eye caught by her would stop and stare at her for a minute, think to themselves: 'does this woman think she's an actual barbie doll or what?' peter, on the other hand, was clad in full on black—as if he were to attend a funeral service, but no, he's just here with miss barbie, going out and about like ordinary people, it was their reward to themselves for tirelessly saving a few universes.

peter chuckled at barbie's comment, agreeing with her that it was kind of boring here in the city, but it was a wonderful day out, he just had to take her to see sights here. but it seemed as though a lot of other people were treated to sights, too, as the couple strolled down the sidewalk. peter couldn't help but feel a little conscious and protective, what with him sensing a lot of men staring down at barbie.

it was at that moment that they both sensed a creep coming close to palm at barbie's behind, and though barbie could've hit him, smacked him on her own—peter instinctively apprehended the guy. he grabbed the arm that was going to inappropriately touch barbie, pulled it way back, and kind of, sort of... broke the guy's arm. peter and barbie's eyes widened as barbie grabbed his hand and ran away. "fucking pervert!" barbie exclaimed as the creep was groaning on the pavement.

"you're not... you're not mad i went a little too far?" peter asked barbie. "oh i'm angry, but you did it for me, so it's a little bit more of 'i wanna kiss you' with a little bit of 'maybe i'll punch you for that later because it wasn't a fair fight because you've got powers', but more on the former!" she exclaimed as peter and barbie ran away from a couple of cops that witnessed the whole thing and were now chasing them down to bring them to a precinct.

peter then had the wonderful idea of quickly donning on his mask,gently holding barbie by the waist and carrying her, and then swinging upward to get them away from the cops. "i don't regret anything from that, though, dearest." he said with a smile as barbie rolled her eyes and moved his mask upward a little and gave him his kiss. peter was flustered for a minute after the kiss, and as a smile formed on his face, barbie threw a punch at him. "like i said, a little bit more of 'i wanna kiss you' with a little bit of 'maybe i'll punch you for that later because it wasn't a fair fight because you've got powers'. but thank you, peter." she said as she planted a kiss on where she punched him. peter chuckled as he took off his mask and put her down. "anytime, love. even if you'd punch me again, i'd beat a million creeps that think you'd be easy."

tags !! @thecoolerdor @sabcandoit @k4tsu3 @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @thee-fantastic-mrfox

[princevictoriapunk]

𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐧

Title : "As The World Caves In"

Fandom : Honkai Star Rail

Characters : Aventurine, Seth (OC); mentioned: Sunday, Express crew, Acheron

Genre : Hurt/comfort

Content Warnings : character deaths (not overly graphic), spoilers for 2.1 TB quest ending! (and a little bit of hurt/comfort and fluff here), might be hecka rushed

Word count : 4,248

Character count : 24,724

Synopsis : Aventurine is smithing a plan of a grand final gamble and encounters various obstacles he may have to overcome, including himself.

A/n : I NEED SOME MORE COMFORT FOR THIS GUY AAAAAAA QAQ There's one specific scene I wanted in this, but I feel like this should be in a separate one, just solely comfort/fluff between Caged Hound (Seth×Aventurine) °^°

A/n 2 : Will be crossposted on Ao3 when I get around to it •3•

A/n 3 : Chapter 1 on > Page 1 for more context between Seth's and Aven's relationship (and more fluff :3)

Fic under the cut for length ✨️

Kakavasha and Seth were out on a meeting with some important figures on Penacony. Or rather, they had just come out from said meeting. The Stoneheart's bodyguard felt the watchful gaze of the Family members on them. Despite carrying his twin pistols in his chest holsters hidden under his suit jacket, he wouldn't hesitate to use them if he had to. Seth noticed that something about his boyfriend was off, though.

“What's wrong?”, he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He was walking right next to Aventurine, if just half a step behind him, at most.

“What? Me? Wrong?”, the blond’s body was still hot with the adrenaline rush from winning the last hand in the discussion.

It was like when he’d play poker, his heart raced until the last second. Did anyone notice? Did the other players at the table notice that he was sweating? That his heartbeat was going rapidly?

“I’m fine, silly. I’m just thinking. I’m thinking of things.”.

Things like how to spoil Seth. He was going to take Seth out later and buy anything that he’s been eyeing on.

Rolling his eyes, he let out a low huff.

//Of course…//, he thought.

Shaking his head, he pulled the blond around the next corner. His brown, jagged bangs fell over his eyes. Glaring at his lover, crimson eyes piercing the other's purple-teal ones, he pinned him against the wall.

“Are you sure that you can deceive me? I've known you for long enough to notice. You may fool them, but you can't say the same for me.”.

His voice rather a low growl, warning his employer to spit it out.

Sometimes, Seth wasn't sure whether his Lycan blood or his identity as a Masked Fool were shining through. Especially in moments like these.

The suddenness of his lover's action caught him off guard. Aventurine stiffened, trying to get away from the wall. His eyes widened, a lump in his throat almost clogging up entirely. Aventurine was a bit surprised that Seth could see through him like that, but he wasn’t going to show it. Not yet.

“You know me so well…”, he said in a low tone.

“Of course I do!”, the other man huffed, with his ears pinned back, shaggy dark grey tail whipped from one side to another.

A few moments later, though, he took a deep breath. Seth leaned his forehead against his boyfriend's.

“I told you that I'd share every burden I can with you, for I am your sword and your shield. So tell me. Please.”.

There he goes again. Acting all charming after threatening him with those crimson eyes. How is this man so good at manipulating his heart, he didn’t know.

Aventurine softened, leaning back into his embrace. He was safe here. He could let his fears and insecurities flow free without being judged. He could show his true self because Cerberus was always there to see it.

The blond swallowed hard before finally answering: “I’m scared, Seth.”.

His jaw clenched visibly, even though he gently returned his partner's hug. Gently pulling the smaller man closer, he supported himself by resting his forearm against the wall. This way, the Lycan also shielded him from prying eyes. Nobody ought to see Kakavasha this vulnerable but him. Seeing him show his insecurities so openly made him feel appreciated, loved, and most of all, trusted.

Cerberus sensed how hard this was for the blond to admit.

“No need to be, for I am here to watch over you and protect you.”.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, he hugged the other man tightly to reassure him.

The wolf’s words pierced through him, so calm yet powerful. Aventurine held onto the Lycan as if he was a shield. Because he is.

The Sigonian hated to admit how scared he was since he was the type of guy that everyone saw as the confident and brave kind of guy. But it was the truth. He was scared. And he hated himself. Deeply.

“Promise you’ll never leave me”, he muttered beneath his breath, eyes squeezed shut while wrapped firmly in the wolf’s embrace.

Seth could feel hatred bubble up inside of him. Not directed towards Aventurine, no.

Far from it.

This white-hot mix of anger and hate searing inside of him was for the IPC. They were the ones responsible for making his one and only feel like this, even though they had given him this opportunity to be 'free' albeit in a golden cage with a glimmering guillotine hanging above his head, waiting to fall.

“I vow to never leave you. I'll follow you to the end of the cosmos, till the death of the stars, and even beyond. For I have pledged to be by your side forever.”.

With that, he cupped his boyfriend's cheek, gently lifting his chin in the process. He sealed his promise with a kiss on his forehead before his lips found a way down to Kakavasha's.

Seth’s kisses always made him shiver, even though they were gentle and full of tender love. The wolf’s kisses always gave him the kind of butterflies that would make him feel like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

The kiss on the forehead made him feel safe, as if there was never such a thing as problems in the world. And finally, the last kiss sealed a promise neither of them would ever break.

Only the two of them were relishing in this moment.

Seth knew about the blond's insecurities way too well. And yet, instead of looking down on him for them, he'd repeat as often as necessary that Aventurine was much better than what the angry, evil, little voice inside his head said. Much better than what he thought about himself.

Since they were standing in a rather dimly lit alleyway clearly not used by any people around them, he could freely kiss him outside the bounds of a closed room. Bonus points could be given since it was a one-way street, and his large figure would cover the blond's smaller frame.

After what felt like an eternity, the Lycan broke the kiss.

“How about we head back to our room and order some room service?”.

He wasn't in the mood for an overly fancy dinner. This way, they could also talk about what was weighing on Aventurine's mind.

The Sigonian leaned against the muscular man, his head resting comfortably against the broad shoulders. He had no idea how his partner had already figured out that he needed time away from the fancy dinners to talk about it.

Because he really did.

“Sounds good to me. But first, can I ask you something?”.

The blond looked up and met his partner’s gaze, a hint of nervousness in his stare despite being close to the wolf.

“Promise you won’t laugh? No matter how weird my question might seem to you…?”.

Gently caressing his head, Seth's hand ran through the other's silky golden locks. With a nod, he confirmed his words to both of his remarks and questions.

“What is it?”, he quizzed, lifting an eyebrow and gazing down much more softly than before at Aventurine.

For a few seconds, he remained quiet before eventually speaking up: “…Can I have a piggyback ride..?”.

The blonde knew how corny his question was and how goofy it made him look to ask for such a thing at his age. But he didn’t care, not with his partner standing right in front of him.

Aventurine knew how tall the man was and how it didn’t matter at all, because he’d still feel safe and comfortable in his arms.

Sure, that question was not what he had expected to hear, but he didn't laugh, at least. Seth just blinked at him for a moment before nodding and turning around. The Lycan crouched down, so Aventurine would have an easier time getting on.

“S'ppose you're tired, hmm?”.

With a nod of his head, he signaled his partner to hop onto his back.

And once the Stoneheart had climbed on, he headed back to the hotel.

As soon as they had returned to their room, Seth ordered something for dinner for both of them.

He looked over to the blond and sat him down, breaking the ice: “Okay, so, what's your plan?”.

He knew that his partner was coming up with something as he set down the tablet with food and drinks the staff had brought in front of them on the little table. He knew that specific glimmer in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly whenever he was coming up with a bigger plan.

Aventurine had a smile on his face that could only mean that he was thinking. The blond glanced over at the big man in front of him, who seemed so calm, with barely any signs that he was thinking hard. It was something the Sigonian wished he could be right now.

He took a sip from his expensive wine, his eyes darting at the Lycan in front of him. Seth had a calm exterior, but the man was anything but that, judging by the way his tail was wagging slightly and his ears perked up at attention.

“So…”, he began, putting down his drink, “I have an idea.”.

“Something to do with the Family, right? The way they avoid mentioning 'death' is suspicious…”, he scoffed quietly, but awaiting his love's response.

He also began eating his steak, curious about what the other's plan might entail.

The blond was surprised that his partner knew him that well. Albeit, they'd been together for a long time now, so it shouldn't actually be a wonder.

“You really do know me too well….”.

“Certainly I do.”.

A lazy smirk graced his lips, his crimson eyes glimmering as he looked at Aventurine.

Before he could answer the wolf’s suspicions, he leaned closer, his hands grabbing Seth’s.

“I have an idea. But I’d like to ask you something first.”.

“Ask away.”.

He was awaiting the other's idea and question.

The blond played with one of his partner’s fingers as he continued to speak.

“Do you trust me enough to go through with the plan I have?”.

He waited for the wolf’s answer before he could say anything else. The blond wanted the big man to trust him and believe in him.

“Well, I do trust you with everything, so... Yes. Even more so, if you don't keep me in the dark, but I don't think I need to remind you about that.”.

A husky chuckle left his throat. If he didn't trust him, why should he have chosen Aventurine as his lover? It would make little sense otherwise.

“I have an idea, but please hear me out first. I know how crazy this must sound. I know it does, but…”, he swallowed hard, his breathing becoming shaky as he continued, “I want to try and test out my theory of permanent death in the Dreamscape. I want to know if it’s possible to actually die here or not.”.

Upon hearing and processing his lover's request and plan, he almost choked on the piece of steak he was about to swallow.

“...What-? Kakavasha, you can't be serious-”, Seth eventually brought out, albeit still out of breath from his coughing fit.

“Don't you think this is a little risky?”.

He trusted Aventurine, he truly did. He just didn't know what to do with a proposal like this.

The other male laughed at his partner’s reaction, but it wasn’t a mean or arrogant laugh. It was the laugh of someone who had just proved a point they were trying to make.

The blond shrugged, as if his plan is just a normal one and not a risky one at all.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”, he tilted his head to the side, a genuine innocent smile plastered on his lips.

Realizing that his employer was serious about it, he let out a heavy sigh after thinking over it for a while. Sipping from his beer, he eventually ran a hand over his face.

“Well. I for sure know I can't stop you from anything once you've put your mind on something. Especially if it involves a high-stakes gamble.. I'll just pray for our survival.”.

When he decided that he wished to stir the peace under the Elation's name, he didn't reckon it would amount to a crazy plan like this one day.

“Well, you don’t really have a choice”, he teased, still maintaining that innocent smile on his face.

He was aware of how risky and dangerous this plan was even though he didn’t sound like he did.

“You’re coming with me whether you want it or not.”.

He smirked at the man’s comment regarding survival.

“And don’t worry. We’ll survive. I don’t mind putting my life on the line for the sake of proving this theory.”.

Seth let out a small grunt, practically meaning something along the lines of 'Figured as much'.

“Can't leave you alone in this one then. I'll join you for this experiment then. Two makes for a higher chance in probability. Did I.. get that right?”.

Aventurine smiled and his eyes lit up. Seth’s words were exactly what the blond wanted to hear. Two was indeed better than one. The chances would increase and they wouldn’t be alone in this experience.

“You’re right. There’d be a higher chance for us to survive together”, the blonde agreed, still holding onto the big man’s hand, “So, are we ready to start the experiment?”.

“Of course. Ready whenever you are”, he replied.

It meant that he wouldn't let Kakavasha do this unsupervised, and if it failed, he'd simply join him. After all, it was a shame if he failed his duty, letting his partner and employer die. Truly a shame for a bodyguard.

Even if they were meant to find a tragic end.

Aventurine stood up from the dining table, his body feeling more antsy with every minute that passed.

Was he really going to do this right now? Put his life at risk for the sake of a theory?

His eyes wandered to his partner, and he could tell that Seth looked just as anxious.

He reached over to him and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Ready?”.

The wolf nodded, before he reached for his gun, pointing it to the blond's chest and pulling the trigger.

Click. Bang. Splash. Clank. Thud. Then sparkling bubbles. Then silence.

Seth just had watched a peculiar scene: Once he had shot Aventurine, instead of blood that was gushing, it was some kind of blueish pearlescent liquid.

The bubbles and sparkling lights were from his partner's form dissolving into them as he disappeared.

His jaw clenched.

Immediately, Cerberus returned to reality through the same means as he had just done to the Stoneheart. There, he found the Sigonian sitting next to him in the Dreampool; gasping and panting from the shock, but unharmed. A heavy breath of relief fled from his lungs.

Pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug, he let out another shaky breath: “You're okay-”.

Aventurine wrapped his arms around the man, and he was the first one to break the silence after a few long heartbeats: “I’m okay…”.

The blond gulped down hard. His entire body was shaking and he could barely remember how to breath. The only thing that made him feel better was the wolf’s embrace, and even then, the blonde couldn’t shake off the fear that was taking over him.

“I…didn’t die”, he gasped as he buried his face in the big man’s chest.

Nodding quickly, he pulled Aventurine closer. He buried his face in his hair, his tail wagging and splashing the water everywhere. The emotional distress from shooting the blond and himself was lingering on his mind, but their embrace slowly seemed to soothe both of them out of it.

“Looks like one truly can't die in the Dreamscape..”.

Seeing the way Seth buried his face in his hair and his tail wagging made his heart calm down and beat slowly.

“Yeah…”, the blond finally said, after several tense moments of them holding each other, “We definitely can’t die in the Dreamscape. I wonder why that is…”.

“Good question. You want to investigate more?”. Seth asked in a low hum.

It actually piqued his interest, as well.

“Yes. I do”, he said, sounding way more relaxed now. His whole demeanor changed from tense and afraid to intrigued. He had several questions that he wanted answers to as soon as possible.

“So, why is it that we can’t die in the Dreamscape? Is there a reason? And if there is a reason… what is it?”.

His thoughts were slowly turning into theories.

Over the course of the next 48 hours, the two continued to investigate the questions at hand, as well as people who could possibly be linked to the issue.

But also, upon learning a thing or two in the process, Aventurine suggested teaming up with the Astral Express crew, which Seth figured could be a good move since they also might be able to figure something out.

Meanwhile, Welt and the others arrived at the decision to join forces with Aventurine.

The Stoneheart and Dr. Ratio played their 4D mind chess, being in on each other's plans for supposed betrayal, especially after uncovering the two murders.

And considering that Aventurine was present at the scene of Robin's murder, it would be the smartest to directly meet up with Sunday.

Although, their meeting certainly did take an unprecedented turn towards the end of their conversation.

The Harmony's powers were restricting the Sigonian, setting the moment of execution 17 system hours from that point.

Sometime in between, Veritas handed Kakavasha a vial of sorts with a ‘doctor's prescription’, as he called it.

And together, the couple made their way to the final stage of the plan.

The announcement invited everyone to witness the spectacle at Clock Studio Theme Park.

And exactly there, albeit a while later, a group of five finally stepped through the curtains and into the stadium-like structure.

Acheron, Welt, Himeko, March, and the Trailblazer readied their weapons.

“The dice are cast - Ladies and gentlemen, ready to unveil your cards?”, Aventurine greeted through a projection onto the massive screen suddenly lighting up.

Glancing out from under the rim of his fedora, he smiled slightly: “The Architects’ flawed stone…”.

Straightening his posture, he started laughing.

Now that the camera had zoomed out a little, Seth also got visible behind him, reloading Crime and Punishment whilst mockingly grinning into the camera: “You better run while you can, little rabbits..~”.

Aventurine threw a set of dice, they ended up actually rolling over the ground in front of the Express Crew and the supposed Galaxy Ranger.

“Of no value at all.”.

The green and golden dice all ended up with the spades symbol facing up; even the one that bumped into the Trailblazer's shoe.

“I'm putting down the bet. I'm taking the gamble. I'm claiming the win.”.

Bathed in a blinding, golden light, the Sigonian descended from the top middle frame border of the screen, having activated the Aventurine stone's powers.

His form had changed a little consequently; with his fedora being a top hat now, a golden, blue and turquoise mask covering his face, claws on his hands, and an upside-down, heart-shaped cutout on his chest, among others.

“I'll let fate spin the wheel, a daring gamble. Walking the brink of death… for rebirth. All for the Amber Lord!”.

Whilst he was speaking, he seemingly crushed his Cornerstone in his hand, and the cutout on his chest began to glow in a blue light.

The next moment, Trailblazer charged forward, dashing at Aventurine to attack him. Alas, he pushed them aside with ease.

Instead, Seth shoved himself in front of his partner, firing at the Express crewmember inhabiting the Stellaron to keep them back.

A red light flashed high above their heads, cutting through the dark clouds of the night sky. A massive laser beam was fired focused on the duo’s current position. The huge explosion kicked up dust and dirt, sending debris flying. Himeko hoped that her satellite had hit its mark.

Cerberus had reacted just in time, giving his partner a little shove into the direction he ought to evade before he’d leap out of the way himself. He returned the fire and just barely missed her from a full-blown hit instead just a little scrape on her side.

“Ah, so close… Pretty tricky with this handicap.”.

“Always hide your ace with a straight face…”, Aventurine sighed and with a swipe of his arm, the smokescreen seemed to clear up.

He grinned behind his mask for a moment when he noticed that his watchdog positioned himself in front of him, kneeling and yet pointing his guns at the Astral Express crew. His left hand found itself on top of the wolf’s head, akin to how proud fighting or hunting dogs would pose with their pet.

With the other hand’s extended index finger, he was pointing at the group in front of them, he clicked his tongue in irritation: “I’m starting to get a bit impatient with you all.”.

Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed to illuminate the darkness once the dust and smoke had settled. It showed the worry and fear in the Express crew’s eyes. What a beautiful painting.

As he rose further into the air, he chuckled arrogantly. Aventurine held onto his mask for a moment, his head tilted back. He spread his arms shortly before he was as high up as he had planned. The coat tails fluttered in the strong winds at this altitude.

“Friends, to fully relish this- I’m betting every last chip!”.

Playing with a golden and green coin, he eventually lifted the arm he was holding it with until he threw it higher up into the air.

“Only by casting aside reason does one truly gamble..”

Even though Seth’s expression had been rather cold and aloof, yet somewhat tense before, it relaxed a little bit now. He trusted his partner. Cerberus was prepared to die here tonight if fate had planned it this way and they’d lose the gamble.

Coincidentally, he had never seen Aventurine use these powers before either, so it was a first for him too. He had to admit that the glittering gilded sphere extending around and above them with golden-white chips was quite the breathtaking sight, even if the wind blowing could be compared to a storm rather than a breeze.

He simply relished in the apparent fear displayed on Trailblazer’s and March’s faces at this point.

“Haha! ‘Emanator’ - I know you’ll match my wager. Right~?”.

Laughing, the blond launched the various stacks of chips at the scene before him. He didn't care what the collateral damage would be.

When Himeko lifted her satellite for another attack, accompanied by Welt summoning a quasi-black hole, with each of them having one of the young ones behind them, Seth took the chance to shoot at them in an attempt to distract them.

“Don't focus on just one target.”.

After all, they were both equally lethal.

Crime and Punishment both spat out shell after shell that landed on the ground with a quiet clink, practically drowned out by the loud bangs and rumbling around them.

Cerberus used the descending chips and other objects as jumping pads to elevate his position all whilst he continued to shoot his projectiles as their opponents. He intentionally missed his mark by just a millimeter, just as planned.

That is until Acheron stepped forward.

Time felt like it was slowing down. Something sinister yet melancholic sent a shiver down everyone’s spine.

“I wish to mourn the departed, weeping like rain, to swell the crossing stream…”.

Her voice sounded calm, her steps alike. Her hair turned white, her arm red, skin paling. She raised the arm she held her sheathed sword with. A bloody tear rolled down her right cheek as she drew the blade.

“...as the tide arrives, leading you back home.”.

Red static crackled in the electrified air, a black domain swiftly extending with her in its center. The crimson blade dragged across the ground with a metallic clink, until she aimed a vibrant red slash mainly directed at Aventurine. The impact created a shock wave, and a bright white light blinded anyone present.

The slash cutting through the massive gilded dome also sliced through the ground and any buildings in its path, wreaking havoc and leaving destruction in its wake, blasting a thick smokescreen through the area.

Only once Acheron pushed the blade back into its scabbard, time seemed to flow normally again, heavy rain falling and drenching everything.

Alas, for the two men, everything went black. Pitch black.

Seth didn't feel nor see nor hear anything. He could barely form a coherent thought. He didn't know where he was, nor whether they were alive or dead. It simply felt like a void.

As for Aventurine, he found himself in some kind of pocket dimension, standing in front of a black sun, as he bidded farewell to a projection of his own self as a young boy before striding towards the sun where he’d expected to be reunited with his beloved wolf or find his salvation.

Or rather, the barrier’s end, appearing a subspace that requires to be either shattered or breached, at least, as according to Acheron’s information.

[wisterias-in-bloom]

A little more about me. Answering these lovely questions as I go.

Honestly I know I'm lonely so I'm doing it MY way✨️❣️

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

I supposs the first thing everyone notices are my eyes, I can't deny they are quite intimidating. I've been told in the past that looking into them gives the impression that I might be haunted. Can't deny either.

My most distinguishing feature, you say? It must be my right arm. The virtiligo is no longer easy to hide, and there's no product that would make it any less obvious, and since I can't rely on my shapechanging abilities, due to this annoying worm, it can easily make me recognizable, unlike other changelings.

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

If I see someone else referring to my eyes as cerulean I swear on Lathander's light you'll meet the wild magic😒✨️

At first sight, I might look... intimidating. I have a fairly sharp jaw, a very skinny face, completely black eyes, like a void, skin white like paper, and I don't smile - unless.. a certain vampire smiles at me first. I have very long hair, both because I never cut them, and because in my last adventure the wild magic had it's course, so now I have obnoxiously long hair that I keep in a braid during the day.

As far as my face goes, the most obvious thing it's the eyes, as I mentioned above. I quite like them, but others don't agree.

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

I'm on the lean side of the spectrum of skinny, I do have a quite impressive constitution, though my main focus is mostly agility, so my muscles are not necessarily obvious. I have a fairly small waist and broad shoulders. I'm not tall, I think at best I can be around 160cm?

I make sure I'm always showcasing my good features to distract from the bad ones, and of course since I strive to be charming, I can't overlook the detail, right?

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

My clothes are tailored specifically so I can be as functional as possible, I might be unlucky, but at least I'm quick, flexible and coordinate.

Let's say I'm clumsy only when it's about.. fangs.

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

I am usually quite still I suppose, I figet a lot with my nails though, or my hair. I clasp my hands a lot while talking. My clothes don't interfere with my resting, though I don't sleep in the button up and leather pants, I've got some decorum.

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

I have a lot of scars sadly, the most visible one is the scar that goes through my right eye, but my back is basically covered in old whip burns that never healed properly, several knife wounds collected over the years. On the chest there's a wound shaped almost round that I got when I died and I got brought back once before arriving in Faerun- which by the way I don't suggest anyone to experience.

[noahsbookhoard]

📚July 2024 Book Review (Part 3/3)📚

We were that close to have a cover coordinated trio of book this time, I failed you... This batch is completely mismatched in every way, even my opinion of the book.

House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland

Grey, Vivi and Iris are three wierd sisters: since their disappearance for a month when they were little they have silver hair, a ravenous appetit, strange powers of attraction, and a half-moon scar on the throat. When Grey, the eldest, disappear again and a strange man in a bull mask starts hunting Iris, her and her sister Vivi will go looking for Grey as well as answers to what really happened to them when they vanished 8 years ago.

This novel was the July random draw at my book club and a very pleasant surprise! I was worried at first: it felt like the YA novel cliché with witchy vibes and a 17 year old protagonist who is ✨️not like other girls✨️. I was bracing for a high school setting and teenagers being The Worst and I really didn't want to read that.

However it quickly evolves into a search for answers, almost a treasure hunt if it wasn't for the dark and gloomy atmosphere. This is what really elevates the book: it has a very rich and vivid ambiance, including with smells and a recurring theme of decay and fire and wet wood.

The mystery also is a plus point: there're a lot of question, you feel like they are all linked but at first you don't know how and as the story unfurls answers come and they are more terrible as you go deeper. A small disappointment however: not everything is answered in the end, there are things left open that could have been said more explicitly. And one big plot holes that was quick frustrating.

The characters were really interesting, especially the sisters: they are all described as very alike in appearance and extraordinarily beautiful, but they don't live it the same way: Grey is a model, using her charm for her work, Vivi is the punk musician doing her best to make herself look unattractive and Iris is just a high-school kid trying to blend in. They also have very different relationships with their mother and although it doesn't evolve much (except Iris, she gets most of the character growth) the book reveals the reason behind those differences and it is really nice to discover more about them by touch: some present events will brings back Iris' childhood memories and this build up to give us a complete picture.

This was a really nice discovery and not at all the Fantasy YA novel it was advertised as. It veers slightly toward the horror genre (TW for child death and dome body horror) with interesting characters and a very well written atmosphere. I highly recommend it!

Blanche Neige et les lances-missiles by Catherine Dufour

Trouble in Fairyland: The ghost of Bill Guette decided to get revenge, and to that end turned God and the Devil into alcoholics. Without guidance, angels and demons have be running havoc. Classic Fairy Tale character bereft of their happy ending meet and try has much as possible to find out what is going on and how to avoid the worst of it.

When you pick a book just because the title is funny you might end up reading the most insightful book of your life or the derpiest wierdest shit ever; somehow this book is both. The title means "Snow White and the missile lanchers", yes this is plot relevant.

This is a fairy tale parody mashup on steroids: Sleeping Beauty almost married demon, Donkeyskin falls in love with Cinderella's prince, Red Riding Hood is a neurotic mess nicknamed "Jacket-Shut up" and Snow White is a tyran with a large military arsenal and the eagerness to use it. Apart from that it's kinda hard to sum up the plot, it's quite disjointed and takes a lot of time to get to the point. Each character has an arc but the story with Bill Guette comes up really late in the book. Once it is there however, the individual character's storylines blur and that's when I gave up on global comprehension.

The style however is consistent and really good, if peculiar. Catherine Dufour has something of Terry Pratchett in the use of fantasy to underline the satire, in the humour a little too. There is a lot of puns and hidden references in the character and location names. But there's more vulgarity and, well, warfare equipment.

I honestly don't know if I liked it. By the end I was sincerely too baffled to say and now, several month later, I remember it as if I had read it seven years ago in a language I wasn't fluent in. It is just plain wierd.

The Lord of the Flies by William Golding

After being stranded on a desert island without any adults, a group of boys has to find means to survive. It gets trickier when two clans form among the children, with conflit emerging around leadership, beliefs and rituals.

I read this book in 6th grade. I remember liking it but now I found it kinda boring? Is it being now on the adult's side of the story rather than the child's?

I don't know what would happen if you had a pack of children left to their own devices for an extended period of time and that's not really a renewable experience* but I hope they wouldn't get to murder that quickly (that being said I don't know how long the plot last, it isn't said). I don't know if 13 year olds would also fall into superstition and create a cult as quickly as in the book but kids are wierd sometimes.

*The Wikipedia page of the book informs me that apparently something similar DID happen in 1965, ten years after the book was published: teenagers were stranded for 15 months and survived by creating a functional and globally peaceful society.

What I found bizarre too is the image the author has of the kids: they are all undisciplined and unreasonable. The younger ones have an attention span of 15 minutes and the older ones are violent to the point of murder. It sounds an awful lot like a venting fanfiction of a teacher that can't kill his students but write about it to take the edge of... And Golding was a teacher so that checks out!

Still a classic, I think a lot of kids read it at school but it did not age as well as in my memories.

[icarus-does-fall]

MY FIXATIONS HAVE COLIDED >:]

Gonna be Gen1 characters btw yes it said dolls but that means effort and not memory and eh

Alr alr (a lot of this is personality based ngl)

Soap- HEATH BURNS he's flirty, loud, waayyy too cocky for his own good BUT he's also protective and does his best to always be helpful

Ghost- hear me out (yeah he's a guy whatever) But TWYLA!! She's not very outspoken but she has a lot of great oneliners and when she's with friends she's more open and always sneaky too lmao- TELL ME that's not our Simon Riley

Ghost pt2- IF you're gonna be picky and want a guy character SETH PTOLEMY mfer legit hides behind a mask until he finds people he trusts with his secrets and with them he gets to be himself

Gaz- CLAWD WOLF ISTG man is dedicated and loyal and I love him, he's a cuddle bug imo

Roach- GILL WEBBER- our boy is under appreciated and not talked about enough, gill has some major sass behind all his nervous and pacifist behaviours

Price- HEXICHIAH STEAM, daddy?? Sorry- he's big and wears a stupid hat and has that same bushy ass facial hair he's so fiercely protective amd would shoot someone to save his loved ones lmao

Laswell- NORA BLOODGOOD, the epitome of ✨️has braincells✨️ sure she gets frazzled occasionally when things insane happen but the girl adjusts and saves the day all the time

Laswell pt2- BATSY CLARO, hot tempered, no bullshit, would cut someone if they possed her off (woudl later apologise for losing her temper) the conversational niceties are zero with her, it's tell her what you mean when you mean it or shut up

Nik- JOHNNY SPIRT, replace music expert with weapons and its Nik I promise you it's nik

Graves- ROMULUS, he's egotistical (pack life yada yada) Graves just screams ✨️American✨️ not to mention man can hold a grudge buuuuut in 13 wishes? He gets all shy and flustered too so he's not always an ass

König- ANDY BEAST, he's big, he's got anxieties, buuut mfer knows how to use his size

Keegan- KIERAN VALENTINE, keeg just screams playboy heartbreaker ong, not to mention just a fantastic flirt, like man just oozes charm

(kieran was supposed to be gay😭😭😭😭)

Sarah Leary- TORALEI STRIPE, she's bold and bossy and extremely independent, will fuck you up over missing reports

Alejandro- SPELLDON CAULDRONELLO, okay okay so sue me, spelldon is only mentioned in the dairies, he's not in a movie or book or whatever BUT I don't care 🥰 he made Kieran crush hard, and if you think our lil drug boy couldn't make a playboy stop his ways yall trippin

Valeria- NEFERA DE NILE (celos older sister) scary sassy bold lesbain

Rudy- DEUCE GORGON he's playful sassy sporty, can kill you with a look, hides the things he enjoys the most cause insecurities it just makes sense

Abigail- ABBEY BOMINABLE (yeah yeah same name shut up) it's the vibes yaknow?? The straightforwardness, flirty in her own type of way (Abigail has like.... a million brother I think, you know girl can't flirt properly)

Alex- NEIGTHAN ROT he's his own type of guy and loves the opportunity to do his own thing while fighting for whats right, loves to help others whenever he cam cause bro is goal oriented

Alex pt2- Also could be that French mfer GARROT smth or other, will pick a fight if you gonna try and prove he's bad at smth, will move across the world just cause he misses you, cannot do smth but tries to anyway

Uhhhhhh... I know there's more but it's like 2am and 🤷‍♂️ I can only do so much and yes some of the explanations are half-assed, im eepy okay??

Honorable mentions of my favorite characters:

Bonita Femur (she's a moth love her lmao)

Operetta

VENUS MCFLYTRAP (love her new design ngl)

Vandala Doubllons(?) (Fucking ghost pirate hello???)

Rochelle Goyle

HONEY SWAMP (she was so pretty😭😭)

Victor (he was so twink coded lmao)

Bitches, lets talk, seriously now

what kind of Monster High doll do you think the COD men and girlies would be? I need a presentation on your reasons for the doll and the character...