#im really sorry omg

[mohntilyet]

still i think the one of the more fun differences drawn between illario and lucanis that was lost would be illario's ability to endear himself to others but serious lack of empathy, vs. lucanis' (self perceived) inability to be charming but how much he cares. it's interesting that the game has gone with the "lucanis' ability vs illario's lack thereof" because i think illario being the dellamorte 'best in show dog' vs. lucanis' attack dog would have made me so unwell.

lucanis is... awkward. he's not unlikable, because he is usually very polite, but he doesn't speak much and only seems to care about the other dellamortes. he once sent viago de riva a knife with no note (who knows what he could have meant by this). he does what caterina asks of him, and by his own admission, cannot say no to her. he is a dramatic and prolific killer, and that makes how untouchable he is even worse.

and the crows like illario, sure, AND he's a good assassin! he's even a good crow! he's so good that he can make lucanis smile, and so he is the charming, sociable one. he's the one that stays in treviso and can be relied upon to care, illario's even the one people prefer over caterina and lucanis!

but illario is decoration. he's the prize poodle, and even if poodles were bred to be working dogs, nobody will ever pick him to protect the house over the german shepherd that regularly mauls intruders. anyways the analogy is getting away from me. the point i'm trying to make is that i want illario to have a different kind of jealousy/hatred that's not just over 'being bad at killing' but also an arrogant loathing for everyone around him that is getting harder to hide, because they've forgotten he can bite and is just itching to rip someone's jugular out. illario is very good at hiding his family resemblance to caterina, while lucanis suffers under his grandmother's, and his own, reputation.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[vegan-kaktus]

EA's leaves are kind of dull, and I personally think TNW's are too bright, so here's my spin on a leaf default + a new mod :-D

Leaf variety mod

There are 4 different leaf textures in the game files but only one is used. I talked with @shastakiss some years(?) ago and she mentioned an unfinished mod Neder started working on to make the leaf use different textures. Unfortunately, Neder couldn't get it to work. Shasta kindly sent me said mod and I handed it over to @lamare-sims last year who of course managed to fix it (thank you so much once again, you're a legend!!)

Note #1: worth mentioning, this mod will only affect leaves that spawn after you've installed the mod! the same goes for my mesh fix included in the default below. Note #2: if you already have this mod in you dl-folder, delete that file and use the one from this download if you're planning on using my default (otherwise my uv-map and texture edit will not work).

Defaults

Replaces all 4 leaf-textures with new, more colorful and less blocky textures. I also edited the "effect"-textures of single leaves (the ones falling from the trees). This default can be used without the mod mentioned above, but then only the "original" texture will be used - see second image.

The leaves that spawns under the tree (the one sims can't rake), it was impossible to make it look good with any of the four textures, so I re-mapped it and gave it it's own texture (256x256px). There's also an optional default for the rake included, I edited a tiny error in the mesh and gave it a texture makeover. I made a separate LOD90-default for the leafpile (meaning: the mesh in neighborhood view) and instead of replacing the textures I repo'd them, meaning that the LOD90 default works with any leaf texture default you might use (it will only be showing one texture in neighborhood view).

Texture sizes are all the same as EA's:

Leaves: 512x512px x4 (my default +1: 256x256px)

Rake: 128x256px

Leaf effects: 32x32px x3

Edited leaf-related cc

I edited Sophie-David's leaf pile pet bed (the mesh) and repo'd it to leafpile_txtr, meaning the mesh will now pick up my default (or any other default you might have for leafpile_txtr, and if none - EA's original texture). The mesh now needs seasons + pets, since it's repo'd. Their recolors are not included, so be sure to download them from the link above if you want them and replace their mesh with mine!

I also edited Shakeshaft's leaf cover mesh (warning T$R) , I repo'd it to one of the leaf textures and made recolors - also repo'd - to the rest of the textures. This mesh and recs now need seasons, this also means that the mesh and recolors* can be used without my default.

*with the exception of rc4, which is repo'd to my custom leaf texture, found in my leaf default.

Recommended mod

I recommend simler90's Gardening Rake Leaf Pile Mod or jfade's leaf pile fix (I have no idea what the difference between those two mods are, they edit the same thing so choose one of them).

Nothing in this download is dependent on each other* so feel free to pick and choose what you want :-) remember you can only have one default for the leaves, meaning that if you have any other default (1, 2, 3, 4) or Shakeshaft's/Sophie-David's original meshes, make sure you remove them before installing my files. Everything has been compressed to reduce file size, as usual. Do let me know if I messed up anywhere!

*with the exception of rc4, see above.

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MTS

Credits: Neder, @lamare-sims (many many thanks!!), @shastakiss, Sophie-David, Shakeshaft and lasty EA.

[kenchann]

uh oh

also change my yuus outfit www

[purplepixel]

Risetober Day 1: Unicorn

But with my rise/pokemon au bc Im obsessed rn. I saw everyone drawing unicorns and a rare moment of inspiration struck. Wartortle!Leo riding a galarian rapidash. And now, not even 24 hrs later, he’s become his own character. His name is Prince. He’s a complete diva, sassy, hates to lose, and doesn’t trust or listen to anyone outside of leo (who worked incredibly hard to gain his respect). Hoping to do more of these prompts!

Thank you @sariphantom for the prompts! Been meaning to do one of them and inspiration struck finally this month

[zuzu-draws]

So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.

I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!

Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.

This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!

This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.

What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.

Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.

And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)

In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.

On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.

Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:

Link to the original thread: Link.

More context (and reactions :P):

Link to original thread: Here

This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.

When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:

When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?

No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.

This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.

This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.

Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )

I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.

He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.

I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.

Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.

Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.

This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.

I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:

Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.

Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.

But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:

This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.

Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.

If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3

[unriding]

me n moze say good morning to the world !!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

art by @rabbbitseason of course <3

[dehydrated-turtle]

Champagne and Marble

//warnings// +16, mdni

//contents// Bruce wayne x transmasc!reader, vaginal sex, squirting, semi public ig??

//synopsis// Bruce had not seen his husband in too long, his lewd thoughts lingered around in his head during one of the Wayne galas and he couldn't contain himself when he saw you. based off this ask from @blueberrymori <3 - wc: 1.9k

//on ao3//

The infamous Wayne gala charity event where Gotham’s elite have an excuse to flaunt their riches and pretend to be good people by donating to a cause they couldn’t care less about. Bruce only hosts these things to continue on a tradition that is older than himself and to please his conscience which always tells him to continue on his parents’ legacy. Normally, Bruce is better at these things, faking smiles and pretending to have rousing conversation with his guests and the press. This night was different however, his answers were short and pithy and he didn’t start a single conversation because his mind was elsewhere. On you. He had not seen his husband in so long, being away on “business” for weeks and not being able to touch you drove him up the wall. He wondered the first hour of the party where you were, looking among the crowds for you and soon giving up, assuming you hadn’t gotten there yet. This was his first chance to see you since before he left and he was going to make the most of it. 

He let his mind wander as he sipped his champagne, thinking about what he could do to you once the guests had left. He thought about how you would look underneath him, his tie in your mouth muffling the sounds of your moans, his hand around your neck, keeping you down as he slammed into you. His lewd thoughts were rudely interrupted by a twitching feeling in his restricting dress pants. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed then frantically walked away. On his way, he saw you standing on the grandiose stairs, talking with another socialite, smiling and laughing gently. His mind started to wander again once he noticed how you looked in your suit, the jacket hugging your arms and laying flat on your chest, the dress pants laying gently along the skin of your thighs. He saw that you were gleaming as always and he couldn’t help but smile. Bruce sauntered his way toward you and this nondescript socialite and butted into the conversation. 

“I’m so sorry but I am afraid I’m going to have to steal him from you, Mrs. Henning,” he said, voice smooth as velvet and placing his hand on the small of your back, “Honey, would you help me find some more glasses in the back?” 

“Of course, my love. My apologies, Mrs. Henning.” you apologized and walked through the crowd with your husband. “What a lame excuse, you must be desperate.” 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, darling, of course I’m desperate.” he remarked, looking at you with a certain glint in his eye. You entered the kitchen as promised but instead of looking for glasses, “ALRIGHT EVERYONE OUT, CLEAR OUT I NEED THE KITCHEN CLEAR, YOU ALL CAN GO JOIN THE PARTY IF YOU WANT YOU JUST CAN’T BE HERE. THANK YOU.” 

He held you close as he waited for the last of the cooks and wait staff to leave before pushing you against one of the cold marble countertops with a heated kiss. He lifted you from the back of your thighs so you were seated on the counter, legs wrapped around Bruce’s waist, pulling his hips closer so you could feel his throbbing cock against your swollen clit. He started to grind into you, pulling you as close to the edge as possible without falling off. His hands trailed up and down your back, stopping only to take off your tux jacket and throw it somewhere in the kitchen. He broke the kiss with a soft moan to hastily undo your shirt buttons. His speed and agility at undoing your buttons turned you on just a little bit more, but it was the eye contact that made it even better. You moved your focus to the front of your shirt, looking at Bruce’s fingers work your buttons but before you could, one of his hands moved up to your chin and lifted it so you were looking back at him. 

“Ah-ah, look at me… good boy.” You could feel your cheeks go red as the words processed in your head and you looked directly into his piercingly blue eyes and adoringly dilated pupils. He untucked the rest of your shirt and pulled it back over your shoulders, exposing your chest. Bruce’s hands traveled up your back before bowing his head to the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your newly cold skin. You held the back of his head and let out a breathy moan into his ear as you felt his tongue graze your collarbone. His lips left wet and sloppy kisses along your chest and down your sternum, trailing all the way down to where your waistband lay against your skin. He looked back up at you before breaking a sly smile and working on undoing your fly. 

“Lift.” He less than asked, instructing you to lift your hips off the counter so he could slip your pants under them, which is exactly what you did and exactly what happened. He slipped your boxers along with your pants so when your ass hit the marble, you flinched, not thinking it would be that cold and let a gasp escape your lips. 

“Shh shh, It’s ok…” there was an obvious and titillating contrast between the chill of the counter top and the welcoming warmth of Bruce’s hands, drawing pretty patterns along your neck and jawline. 

You just now realized that you were stark naked on a countertop in a kitchen where anyone could enter from the bustling party going on just a single door away. You glanced quickly at said door with some slight concern on your face until you realized that your clit was throbbing at the thought. Bruce saw where you were looking and reassured you that ‘no one would think to come in here’ and ‘all the cooks left’ with soft whispers against your skin. 

His lips trailed along your skin, moving ever downwards and looking up at you occasionally with those piercing blue eyes. His hands settled on the inside of your thighs, keeping them open as he admired your dripping cunt for a couple of moments before resting his head on your thigh with a soft moan. Your fingers interlaced themselves in his hair, scratching his scalp gently as he closed his eyes briefly. Once he lifted his head back up, he left some peppered kisses along your inner thigh before softly placing a kiss on your clit making your breath hitch. The very minimal contact was driving you up the wall. His tongue licked a sling stripe through your folds and to your clit, taking none of the salty taste for granted before pushing his tongue into your hole. Reaching all the right spots, you let out a loud moan and pulled at his raven hair. He lapped quickly and vigorously, moaning into your cunt, the vibrations sending a shiver throughout your whole body. 

His hands kneaded the flesh of your ass and your thighs, making you feel somehow calmer and more aroused at the same time. His three day old stubble scratched gently on your skin as he buried his face into you, smacking his lips and sucking your clit. Two of his fingers found their way to your cunt, slowly pushing in and curling up into you, ensuring maximum pleasure. As his fingers grazed the walls of your pussy continuously, you felt a familiar sort of pressure build up in your lower abdomen. You could barely get out a coherent sentence but you said enough blabbering gibberish that Bruce understood what you were getting at. He sped up the pace with his fingers while still being diligent and skillful, trying to tip you over the edge. You let go with a high whimper, spraying rivers of clear liquid onto Bruce’s face and clothed chest, some dripping down his chin, some falling into his mouth. He lapped up the remains of your orgasm from your pussy before standing back up and gripping your jaw then pulling you in for a heated kiss. You could taste the salty remains of your juices on his lips as he kissed you sloppily. 

“You always taste so fucking good.” he whispered against your lips, still groping your thighs and holding you close. 

Your own hands started to meddle with his fly, unzipping it and pulling down his pants and taking his briefs with them so they rested just under his ass. His red, throbbing, and hard cock sprang free with a slap against his abs leaving a string of precum connecting the two. You ran your thumb over the tip, sliding the slick around a little bit, earning a low moan from the large man. With one hand gripping the fabric of his shirt and the other on his cock, you pulled him closer to you, sliding his tip along your slick. He got the hint and slid gently into your cunt, making sure you were comfortable before starting to thrust. The girth of his cock definitely made a stretch in your pussy but it was nothing if not pleasurable, the tingling sensation put a layer of added lust to it. You felt his cock reach your cervix as his hips met yours repeatedly, a perfect fit. 

The once bustling kitchen was now only filled with the sounds of skin slapping and gentle moans along with the faint sound of the party still going on outside, sans host. Every time his balls smacked against your ass, you could feel yourself coming closer and closer to another orgasm, still sensitive from the last one. Bruce’s pelvic bone hit your clit repeatedly as his hands wandered along your back, gripping whatever flesh he could and moaning into your ear, his hot breath tingling against your skin and whispering sweet nothings with his low gravelly voice. 

“Mm, my husband, so good for me… taking all of this, all of me. Such a good boy.” You clenched around his words, getting somehow more wet, gripping and clawing at his back. “Getting close, honey?” your head lolled back and your eyes rolled, he took that as an answer, “Cum on my cock, baby boy… Hm, just like that.” His hips thrusting faster, brows furrowed and about to cum as well. 

Your climax came with no surprise but an unexpected intensity, your moans became loud and shaky as you tipped over the edge and your juices trickled down Bruce’s cock and soon after, his thighs. He kept fucking into you as he was so close, balls slapping against the wet skin and cock still pushing into all the right spots. His cock twitched before the hot cum poured into you in long white streams ebbing and flowing along your walls, filling you up proficiently. Your head rested on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and kissing it ever so gently as he slowly gave a couple more thrusts before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your folds. The thought of his cum sitting in your boxers for the rest of this party flooded his mind, so he grabbed your pants and slid them back on to your legs. 

“All that cum just sitting in there, no one will know but us, darling.” he remarked as he buttoned your shirt back up, “It might keep you lubed for later tonight too.” 

Just the thought of it got you wet again and eager for what he had in store for after the party.

[sonelise]

did somebody order a fresh batch of cookies?

[solphuruz]

so rain down on me

sleep token gift exchange for @hazyfaith! hope you like it <3

[hoshiina]

pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi

warnings: some profanities from narumi

wc: 1300

Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.

To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.

Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.

And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.

This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.

Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.

"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."

"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"

You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.

"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.

"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.

"You little shit," he said.

"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."

"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.

"What?" you replied, confused.

"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.

"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”

“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.

“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”

“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.

A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.

...

And yet he wished for you.

He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.

It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.

So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.

But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.

“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.

“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”

“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.

“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.

“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.

“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Rich coming from you,” you said.

“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”

Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.

But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said.

So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.

He laughed a little.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing,” he said.

There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.

[hayaku14]

IDK WTF THIS CARD GAME IS ABOUT BUT I NEED IT IMMEDIATELY

[asmogorna]

MARIO CONTE REBLOGGED A STEAM POWERED GIRAFFE POST ON HIS ANCIENT TUMBLR ACC BACK IN LIKE 2012. WILL WOOD AND STEAM POWERED GIRAFFE OFFICIALLY HAVE A CONNECTION I CAN FINALLY KILL MYSELF

Everyone is always connected

[love-3-crimes]

Day 11: 8-BIT

MARIO MARIO MARIO MARIO MARIO MARIO

[oceanwithouthermoon]

one of my favorite (/sarcastic but not really cuz its like funny idk) things in fandoms is when people make ocs or self inserts or 'x readers' being shipped with characters, but the oc/sona/reader is literally just another character from the source material.. its like youre shipping the characters but didnt want to admit it, so you made a kinsona and branded it as something else..

and its NEVER subtle, actually its super blatant every time and im always shocked when nobody points it out..

i have seen uncountable saiki k x readers where the description is like:

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts he cant read for the first time, and even though he doesnt trust her at first, she keeps proving that she is kind and has good intentions!" you mean nendo? reader is girl nendo?

"this time, he meets a girl whose thoughts honestly match up with her spoken words almost perfectly for the first time!" hairo. youre shipping saiki with girl hairo.

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts are too fast and jumbled to re-" ITS AKECHI, THATS AKECHI, ITS LITERALLY AKECHI.

"saiki meets someone whose just as immune to teruhashi as he is for the first and only tim-" this is hairo again, awe bae you secretly LOVE haisai ?!?

"saiki sees his old childhood friend for the first time in years after an incident caused them to be apart and then they fall in lov-" WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE THIS AND NOT CALL IT SAIKECHI.

its even funnier when they say its like that characters little sister, but the way they write it is still literally just the character, like their personality, dialogue, even their relationship, is the same..

not all of them fit this exactly, but the ones that take a boy character and turn them into a girl oc to ship them with a boy, it reminds of how in equestria girls they couldnt make applejack and rarity endgame so they gave them boyfriends who looked IDENTICAL to each other.. thats what youre creating, guys, youre creating heterosexual rarijack.

[ohdeerfully]

HEYY HIII i finally gave some attention to this fic! this will be the final part, so i wrote in some semi sweet fluffiness between reader and al <3 kisses kisses hugs love you all!

Your Half of the Deal (iii)(Final)

Alastor x Reader

part i part ii part iii

TW: kidnapping, violence, alastor ooc probably... oh whale

join my discord!

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You had lost track of the time spent in that room, a near constant headache thrumming in your head due to the deep bass that you now knew resonated from the club just beyond the door. Every now and then you would recognize the faint tune of a familiar pop song—Angel often took you out to bars to escape from the Hotel—and let yourself enjoy the recognition, humming along. It was truly the only thing you could do with yourself.

You humored yourself with the thought of who your knight in shining armor may be, if one ever came. Would it be Alastor? Finally holding up his half of your soul bargain? Or maybe even Angel, stumbling across you in a bender with Cherri? Or even an unrelated third party that wouldn’t even recognize you; surely the Vee’s have made enough enemies to warrant somebody saving you just to get back at them. No matter who crossed your mind, you couldn’t get your hopes up. You were certain it hadn’t been days in here, but it had been long enough that you were starting to convince yourself nobody was coming.

You may just have to save yourself.

Due to the constant struggle against the metal restraints that chained you to the bed, your wrists had begun to blister and scab, sending dull waves of sensitive pain through your arms. Vox often visited, putting on a face of care and concern, but you knew better than to trust him. All Overlords had to be manipulative to get their way, and Vox was no exception—in fact, he may just be the worst of the worst (not including Alastor). He offered various times to help you dress the wounds on your arms, but you returned his gestures by hissing insults and lunging for that oversized television he had for a head. He kept trying, though, and each attempt at playing nice made you feel all the more crazy and violent. 

Speak of the devil, you thought with a frown as the door opened, briefly casting multicolored lights and a blare of loud music into the room before it was quickly silenced by the click of the door closing again. You subconsciously leaned towards the exit, desperately wanting to escape.

The tall, flat-faced demon strode in, head held high with, in your opinion, undeserved confidence. He was a coward. You fucking hated cowards. You let your lips curl into a sneer as he stopped a foot away from you, peering down with his own curled smirk. 

“You’ll get an infection,” Vox referred to your wrists. This shit again? You clenched your fists. “Please, let me treat them. It’s the least I could–”

“Man fuck off with that shit!” You snapped, leaning forward. You bared your fangs at him, tail lashing. “The least you could do is let me the fuck out! I’m fuckin’ hungry!”

Vox’s smile grew wider, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He took a breath in through his teeth, trying to remain polite. He sat down next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight. You took extreme care to not let yourself fall towards him from the unexpected shift.

Despite every bone in your body wanting to lunge in attack like usual, you held back. Truthfully you knew it was futile, you just enjoyed the rush you got from just trying to fight back. This time, though, you wanted to see if you could get any information about your current situation out of him. Maybe it would help you escape.

“You know we can’t let you out,” He said in a condescendingly sweet tone. He reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder, digging his claws into your shirt and nearly into your skin when you tried to jerk away. You got the hint. “What better way to get to that out-dated Overlord than taking away his favorite toy?”

“I’m not a toy,” You said through clenched teeth. While you doubted this fact yourself, you would never admit it. Not to Vox. The smile he gave you in return was akin to an adult looking down on a naive child. It made your blood boil, and the internal battle you were having to not fly into attack mode was getting harder and harder. All the while you were talking, you kept analyzing him, looking for any semblance to a key, or anything that may serve as a lockpick. Whether to your restraints or even to the door, either would bring you one step closer to getting out. 

There was no doubt he recognized what you were doing—he was an Overlord, not a fool. Maybe he didn’t expect you to be much of a challenge, or to get very far, as he made no move to avert your prying eyes. If anything, it was like he was asking you to try, what with the way he shifted in such a way that you noticed the slight imprint of a key in his pocket. You tried your best to act indifferent. How the hell were you going to get that?

“Could you at least let me out for a moment to piss?” You kept up the attitude, but slumped your shoulders to look defeated and averted your eyes to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smile grow, a cheshire-like grin as if he was watching a mouse play right into his trap. And you didn’t doubt you were, Vox would never be so careless as to reveal the presence of a key unless it was on purpose. It didn’t matter to you, though, because you resolved to just be stronger than he expected you to be. He was underestimating you.

“Oh, but of course! No wonder you’ve been so snippy,” He joked, idly picking up the chain that was attached to the wall with a finger as he spoke. He shifted his hand over towards your wrists, gripping them just barely hard enough to send a wave of sensitive pain through your hand. You grit your teeth and bore back any recognition of the pain as he continued to fiddle with your chains.

He produced a key from his coat pocket. This must mean that the key in his pants pocket was for the door… which, if everything goes fine, would be perfect. Without your restraints, you only had to worry about getting the fuck out of here.

Relief swelled through your wrists when the clasps fell away from your skin, fresh air soothing your raw skin. You allowed yourself a second to tenderly press your fingers against the blisters, wincing at the sting it caused. You shook your hands out in front of you and stood, watching Vox out of the corner of your eye. He stood and offered his arm to you; although, you knew it was less of an offer and more of a command. He wouldn’t let you out of here if he couldn’t hold on to you.

You slowly slipped your arm through the curve of his elbow, linking yourself to him. You allowed yourself to mentally vomit at the contact, but held your expression steady and calm as he led you out. Maybe causing a scene in public will help? Honestly doubtful—you were in Hell, after all, and demons were much too intimidated by the technology Overlord. Maybe someone you know will just so happen to be here?

Thoughts and plans raced through your mind, but none seemed plausible. At this point, you thought it was just best to throw yourself at him even if it got you nowhere. It might do you good to get some energy out at the very least. 

Your senses were immediately overwhelmed when he opened the door; bright, flashing neon lights and the deep booming bass of music swamped over you. You were no stranger to this type of scene, but after being locked up in a deathly quiet room for some time… a headache was quick to come.

Swiftly taking in the scene before you, you desperately searched for some semblance of familiarity within the sea of people as Vox led you against the wall towards the restroom. You didn’t see anybody that you knew, but caught a few curious eyes, no doubt over the fact that you were basically holding Vox’s hand. You wished you could cast out some mental signal that you did not want to be this close to the Overlord and beg demons not to get the wrong idea. 

Your attention was brought back when Vox’s arm fell away from yours, and you realized you were standing in front of the restroom. You cast him a quick look before quickly dashing into the room, thankful to finally have a chance away from him without shackles on your arms. You rested your hands on the lip of the sink, heaving a shaky breath and looking absently at the drain, tracing the pattern of the speckles of undrained water that clung to the porcelain. You tried not to let it get to you, especially not in his presence, but being so close to the Technology Overlord made every nerve in your body blaze with anxiety.

Flipping the faucet on, you let the lukewarm water run over your bruised wrists. Times like this you wished Hell had the convenience of cold tapwater, but the water nevertheless did the job of soothing your skin. You watched the water blankly for a minute, mind lost in thought over your situation. The gentle warmth of the water almost sent you into a trancelike state, and you were likely to get stuck there for a few moments just enjoying it if it wasn’t for a loud banging at the door and an impatient voice calling for you. You snapped back a retort about him rushing you, but you still turned off the faucet and dried your hands.

With a quick glance at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a resolute and firm look before leaving the restroom. You could do this.

You flung open the door, not taking time to observe Vox’s somewhat surprised look as his fist was still raised to continue knocking on the door. You made a mad dash past him, ducking under claws that swung at your shirt collar in an attempt to yank you back. 

“Fuck- fucking get back here!” You heard him snarl from behind you, voice unnaturally louder than the music that boomed in the room. It was as if he just… commanded the music to be quieter so he could project his own, overpowering voice. Though you knew, as the Technology Overlord, that was most likely in his limit of power, you still couldn’t help the cold feeling that the uncanny experience sent in your bones. You kept running, ignoring the shouts of curiosity from the crowd at the whole ordeal.

A strong arm wrapped around your neck, bringing you close to somebody’s chest. The sudden change of momentum and pressure on your throat made you sputter momentarily for air, but it didn’t take long for you to come to and realize how fucked you were.

“Vox! Ova’ here!” The demon who held you tightly shouted, and you managed to just barely catch sight of his face. His smile was huge and toothy, a pleased look glimmering in his eyes. He fiercely waved his hand in the air.

“You gross, good for nothing fanboy!” You cried, struggling in his grip. You brought your hands up to his burly arm and dug your claws as much as possible into his skin, yanking down and shredding his skin. He kicked you away with a pained yelp, snarling some curses at you as he nursed his arms and slunk back in the crowd, of which had formed a large circle around the two of you, undoubtedly to the bar to lick his wounds. You stood, preparing to run, but… You realized it was too late.

Vox cleared his throat behind you. He had no need to grab you—you both knew running would be futile at this point. You tightened your lips together in a grimace and clenched your fists. What would you do now? 

Fuck it, and, just like you had when you first came across him, you lunged at him. Though, this time you went lower, hurling yourself into his stomach. He stumbled just enough to give you time to send a frenzy of claws across his body, scratching anything that came within reach of you. You gripped his leg and yanked up, toppling him over before you ran once again.

You didn’t get far before something curled over your ankle, twisting around the limb and tripping you. You fell to your hands with a loud ‘fuck’ before shooting your eyes to see what the culprit was—a thin wire twisted up your leg, digging harder and harder into your skin as the seconds past. Every attempt you made seemed futile to rid yourself of Vox, and you had to bite back a cry of frustration.

“Pets don’t get far without their leash,” He spat distastefully at you. A line of blood fell from his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in yourself for making Vox feel some pain, even if the blood on his face was just a display of light.

Vox walked closer, his height sending an ominous shade over your downed body. You didn’t let yourself tremble, though you wanted to, because you truly had nowhere to go from here; you couldn’t let him know that you were afraid. You would keep fighting him, no matter what, even if it would kill you. If you weren’t going to escape this shit, you would die trying. In your frenzied mindset, you didn’t notice the growing sensation of static that prickled against your skin.

◈

Alastor stood in front of the club, ears flat against his head in an attempt to block out the blaring music that he could already hear from outside the doors. He abhorred places like this, finding them distasteful and a disgrace to the clubs that he frequented back in his day. Of course, he had to get over himself in that regard—finding and saving you from the grasps of that nasty TV head was more important.

His shadow had returned to him a few hours after he left the Vees’ residence, having seen Vox himself entering the club through a back entrance. He had wasted no time in making his way there, ignoring the painful thrumming of his heart and the twisting feeling his stomach made. 

With a twirl of his cane and quick adjustment to his bowtie, he made his way in, melting into his shadow to slip in the crack of the same back door his shadow had seen. When inside, he found himself in a somewhat desolate corner of the club, his ears twitching uncomfortably at the sound of the music, louder now that he was inside. He swept his red eyes across the huge room, trying to see past the swarm of demons.

A light pressure on his shoulder, which he quickly recognized came from his shadow, urged his attention towards a room just to the left of the back entrance. The door was cracked open, and he slunk towards the door, peeking in before entering to ensure nobody was there.

The room immediately sent a wave of some uncomfortably intense emotion through him, though he wasn’t quite sure what—fury, maybe?—because the room smelled just like you. His nostrils flared and his eyes immediately narrowed at the realization, and the stick of his cane creaked from the grip he held on it. He didn’t fully understand why the hint of your presence after your absence made him feel so strongly, but he did know that he was pissed, the feeling of which was only increased tenfold when he saw the shackles that lay ominously barren on the bed.

He swiftly left the room, not caring if the slamming of the door brought any attention to him. It didn’t, though, and he quickly realized that a commotion on the other side of the club had already drawn the attention of everyone. A voice—no, your voice shouted something, and another wave of that fury coursed through Alastor’s veins. He quickly moved forward, shoving through the crowd. Demons began noticing his presence as he pushed, and space was being made for him to move through.

Though he wanted nothing more than to simply tear Vox apart, Alastor quickly gained composure and stepped out from the crowd into the wide berth that had formed around Vox and you. 

Alastor met your gaze for a brief moment, noting how thrilled you looked to see him and quickly sweeping his eyes over your body and analyzing your condition. His smile curled up in a light snarl when he saw the wire that twisted around your leg. How dare that flat-faced Overlord touch what belonged to Alastor?

He turned his head towards said Overlord, whose face was lit with a multitude of different emotions. Alastor could tell his breathing was coming rapidly, and whether it was due to excitement, fear, or even both, Alastor didn’t know nor did he truly care. All he saw was a pathetic demon before him who took something that wasn’t his.

“My old friend!” Alastor exclaimed with fake friendliness, a smile lighting up his face as his arms stretched up and wide. He stepped towards Vox, an ominous shadow forming under his feet as he walked. Tiny tendrils of flame licked up from the manifesting power as Alastor purposefully made an attempt to intimidate Vox into submission. There was intense bloodlust in his veins, but he was less inclined to create a scene with another Overlord than just getting out of here with you. Plus, despite Vox’s obsession with defeating Alastor, the other two Vee’s really kept out of the feud… Alastor didn’t want to draw the attention of them as well.

Vox didn’t yield, though, and he also began walking towards Alastor, though his body language was much less friendly. His shoulders were high and tense and his claws curled into fists, a frown flickering onto the screen of his face. The two stopped just a foot from each other, and the energy in the room crackled dangerously. The music had stopped, and the crowd of demons had begun slinking out of the club, deathly quiet so as to not draw the attention from the Overlords. This wasn’t particularly necessary, though, as they watched each other with equally unyielding iron stares.

Alastor allowed one more look at you when he heard you weakly say his name. Maybe the sight of him brought you enough relief to finally let exhaustion overcome your body, because you had lost all will to fight. When he saw just how pitiful you looked, how extremely exhausted you were, he didn’t care to hold back anymore.

“I don’t let thieves get away for long,” Alastor said, his voice low and filled with static. He felt the weight of his horns as they expanded while his limbs grew unnaturally, allowing him to tower in height over Vox. In response, tendrils of wire began sprouting from Vox’s body, as well as dangling from the ceiling, poised to attack. “Somebody should’ve taught you some manners on property.”

“We’re in Hell, genius,” Vox growled back. There was an almost ecstatic look in his eyes, but his voice sounded rushed and frantic. “I know you’re old, but come on! How do you forget that?”

Alastor didn’t grace Vox with a response, an inky black spear of shadow shooting from the pool that had been forming underneath Alastor’s feet. It stabbed into Vox’s leg, who couldn’t react in time, but he stood his ground still and threw his own wave of tendrils at Alastor in return. Alastor was quick to move out of the way of the piercing wire, but he wasn’t able to avoid the three that came from above and wrapped around his torso, lifting him nearly a foot off the ground. His red eyes were steadfast of Vox, and he didn’t bother to struggle against the wire. Vox brought him closer, face inches away from Alastor’s own.

“Somebody should’ve taught you about knowing your place! You outdated–” Vox had let his guard down, if only for a moment, and Alastor took that chance. His arm surged forward and through Vox’s face, shattering the glass display. The screen immediately went black, save for the flashes of glitching display lights as the sound of his voice was cut short, replaced by unintelligible buzzing and zapping. Alastor withdrew his hand, bleeding lightly from the glass and metal, and quickly caught his balance when the wires around his torso slackened, dropping him.

Alastor easily stepped to the side as Vox’s twitching body fell to its knees and then forward, the flat screen slamming into the ground with an almost comical slap. The radio demon looked down at it for a few seconds, the corners of his smile curling in a displeased sneer. He truly wanted to avoid getting physical. Vox wasn’t dead, Alastor knew better than to get his hopes up, but his ego would certainly be bruised.

His attention was drawn away from the body, still jerking and sparking, when he heard you softly call for him. He turned on his heel, positioning his hands over his cane to lean and look down at you. You were looking up at him, picking yourself up from the sticky club floor to sit on your knees. He couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering over your haggard appearance, especially the raw, blistering skin of your wrists.

Maybe it was how pitiful you looked, peering up at him like an abandoned kitten, your eyes glazed with a mixture of tears and exhaustion, but something in Alastor urged him to swoop down and hold you in his arms. He was able to fight himself for just a brief moment, but the overwhelming sensation of relief eventually got the best of him.

A cautious step forward, an uncertain glance over your expression, another step, pause… before he finally knelt down in front of you. He looked into your eyes, searching—for what he didn’t really know—before his arms slowly slid under yours, wrapping against the dip of your waist and gently pulling you towards himself. For now he was acting without much thought, doing something he never thought himself capable of. And, strangely enough, you reciprocated the gesture. Why was his heart swelling so much as he felt you tying your own arms around his neck? 

It was silent for some time, the club long abandoned from the confrontation with the TV demon. The tender embrace the two of you shared in a rather unconventional place was likely going to be brushed under the rug, forced to be forgotten; you both knew this fact, so maybe that’s why Alastor was letting it draw on for so long. He himself didn’t understand why he enjoyed the feeling.

“Thank you,” you started slowly, afraid to break the silence. You worried that calling attention back to reality would make Alastor shove you away and walk you home like nothing happened. When he made to move to do so, you continued. “For… saving me. I really appreciate it.”

“I couldn’t leave you in the hands of that pompous Overlord,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. Though, you did notice the sudden lack of radio ambience in his voice. You bit back the thought of making any sort of joke about him actually caring about you—now was definitely an extremely inappropriate time for that. Maybe later.

You pulled away from the embrace slightly, making eye contact with the radio demon, your faces inches apart. You saw something in those red eyes that looked back at you, a spark of some desire that you wouldn’t dare name in front of him. You would be lying if you didn’t feel the same, too. 

When had you fallen for this guy? This overimposing jerk that manipulated you into selling your soul to him to throw you around like a doll? And why? Maybe him actually pulling his weight in your deal helped you finally realize your unknown attachment to him.

In your thoughts, you failed to realize how the proximity of your faces had gotten smaller and smaller, and you were only jerked back to the present when you felt the lightest touch of his lips against yours. In shock, you had opened your eyes, but quickly closed them when you realized what was happening. 

What felt like ages was really only a couple seconds, which was the capacity Alastor could handle. He pulled himself away, and you didn’t fail to see the hue of red that heated his face, though it was light. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, before he composed himself into his usual happy smile.

“A siren, I see!” He joked, trying to play himself cool as he looked down at his chest to fix his bowtie. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

You flashed him a coy grin, unwrapping yourself from the hug and struggling to your feet. He gingerly held your hand in his so you wouldn’t fall, and let you lean against him. Falling from that wire grabbing you had evidently caused your ankle to sprain, and you were just now realizing after the adrenaline had left your system. You looked up at him playfully.

“Surely contracts can be changed.”

Alastor hummed in response, looking forward to not meet your eyes. That wasn’t a no, though.

part i part ii

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