#maybe even the entities are nice to the human

[n9ph]

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hxzbinwrites]

Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!

Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS

In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.

Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.

——————

Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…

Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.

“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.

“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.

He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.

“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”

Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.

“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”

“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.

———————

About 20 years later

Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.

‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.

Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.

“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.

“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”

“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”

“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”

(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”

“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”

“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”

“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.

———————

Present Day

“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).

“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”

Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”

“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”

“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”

While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.

“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”

Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”

———————

Word Count: 1,560

[pochipop]

＃HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — DWELLING, ROTTING, SURVIVING (MR CRAWLING X READER).

#. synopsis! — speaking isn't the only way to understand, and he's oh so gentle .

#. characters! — mr crawling .

#. warnings! — canon-typical dark content + setting .

#. word count! — 1.7k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — hi, i posted, please stop bullying me in my inbox :(( - all jokes aside, thank you guys for all the nice messages and compliments! & happy pride to my lgbt followers! funnily enough, don't think i've ever "come out" on this blog, but if it's not obvious, i'm bisexual lol so there's that!

You found yourself pressed against a cold, damp wall in what you could only assume was a room close to the belly of this labyrinth-like building. Breaths came in shallow, frightened gasps as the lights overhead flickered ominously, like they were trying to warn you of impending danger. . . Danger that you felt sting your chest like needles poking through your skin. The oppressive silence surrounding you was broken only by your intakes of air and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of something —or someone— (or maybe a mixture of the two, in this God-forsaken place) nearby.

Squinting into the gloom, a familiar shape emerged from the dark hallway, slipping into the room with you and pausing in the doorway. You felt relief take hold of you.

Mr Crawling. . .

That, of course, likely wasn’t his real name, but you didn’t speak in the language of clicks, noises, and chirp-like sounds that he did, and he didn’t speak with your tongue either. It was for that reason in particular that you’d bludgeoned his head with a crowbar not long ago, to which he sulked in a corner, bleeding and whining, and you were left to feel terrible for hurting the first entity that had tried to go out of his way to show you true empathy in a way you understood.

Apologizing didn’t even begin to feel like enough. Probably because you were at least ninety percent sure he didn’t understand what you were saying anyway. Helping him with the wound perhaps made it slightly better. . . But also not really, because even now as he skims across the ground to where you are, there’s a sense of guilt that weighs heavy on your heart.

Pale, grey-skinned and moving like any non-human mammal of sorts, his face is mostly obscured by the long, stringy black hair that falls in vine-like, clumped strands all the way to the floor from his hunched position. There’s an unsettling, animalistic grace to the way he approaches, but you don’t flinch this time when he puts the flat of his cold palm against the crown of your head, as if trying to soothe your breathing. All of that initial fear has been replaced by a strange comfort of sorts, and you look up at him, thankful for his presence now more than ever.

He tilts his head, as if listening for something, and you watch him warily with the same crowbar clutched in your fist. A part of you felt bad carrying it around like that with his blood still smeared on it, but here, you knew it was foolish to venture around without a weapon of some sort. Not protecting yourself for the sake of his feelings was, unfortunately, not an option as far as you were concerned, but thankfully he didn’t seem to have any opinion on the matter.

“Mr Crawling,” you whisper softly, reaching out to take his hand into your own.

He seemed to really respond to physical touch, and if language was always going to get in the way, you figured it was best to bridge the gap in another manner. This was the next best thing you could think of.

His head raises, and you suppose he’s trying to meet your gaze, though you can’t see his eyes through the mess of his hair.

“I need to understand you,” you say.

Ironically, that’s a bit of a hopeless endeavor in this sort of environment. It’s not like you have all the time in the world to pick up a new, completely unrelated language to yours while fighting for your life. Still. . . Gesturing had been helpful previously, especially for directions. The hooded figure you ran into first was quick to point around, that severed hand that had guided you for a bit was just as poignant in that area, and the silver-haired entity with a blindfold over his eyes had also tried to communicate with you in that sense as well. So why couldn’t you do it vice-versa?

“Me,” you point to yourself, “you,” you point to him.

He stared blankly for a moment, then seemed to come to an understanding. His had retracted from your head to point at himself, then to you, a clicking noise coming from the back of his throat. You smile. It was a small victory amongst a series of devastating losses, but you were keen on taking it and running with it as far as you could stretch it.

“Okay,” you breathe, talking more to yourself than to him. “Let’s try this then. . .”

Feeling a surge of determination, you touch your stomach and then mime eating.

“Hungry. Eat.”

At this point, you were still too anxious to have an appetite, but you knew you’d need food eventually. You were hoping he’d be able to help you with that somehow. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen any evidence of there being food around here, —no containers, boxes, or wrappings, but he seemed to understand your gestures and mimicked you; sitting back on his knees to rub his stomach through his filthy t-shirt, then nibbling on an imaginary item.

He looks back to you, as if seeking approval. You smile, hoping he understands that to be a sign of good will, then nod your head to drive home the association. Beneath his swath of hair, he smiles too, and you catch a glimpse of his eyes through the curtain of black strands; dark and thoughtful.

“Good,” you murmur, feeling slightly relieved. 

If nothing else, this was progress. You spend a while longer trying to communicate basic needs and warnings: things like yes, no, stop, come, drinking, sleeping, and a thank you in the way of patting his head. You’re not sure he understood the depth of it by any means, but he did seem to enjoy it. . . Like a puppy. The thought made you smile genuinely and absentmindedly, if only for a moment. The clicks and chirps he makes are mostly lost on you, but the noises are comforting nonetheless. This rudimentary bridge of understanding soothes you just a little, and you find yourself feeling very thankful that he’s here in the first place.

He has your face cupped in his hands now, as if he’s inspecting you. . . Or perhaps admiring? That is, until you feel his body tense and all his little sounds abruptly come to a halt. A small growl reverberates from the back of his throat and his wide smile droops into a frown. Suddenly, he’s roughly dragging you along, tugging urgently on your arms, to which you comply and follow along with him, scooting across the floor until you reach a shadowed alcove. You hadn’t even noticed it before, but he seems to know his way around this place like the back of his cold, grey hand.

He covers your mouth for a moment, then shakes his head. You cover your mouth, take your hand away, then shake your head no, just to ensure to him that you’ve understood. He pats your head then crouches in front of you, using his own body as a makeshift shield for yours. His long, spindly arms cage you against the wall. Fear rises inside you once again, though not because of him and his actions. Rather, the faint, rhythmic thuds of footsteps have begun reverberating through the hall just outside, and you recognize the harrowing pattern they click in.

Mr Scarletella.

You encountered him once before and felt every hair on your body stand on end. The way he moved through the halls with a menacing flow that sounded almost eerily melodic, and the strange, unsettling red glow that seemed to exude off him that nearly drew you in like a moth to a flame. The steps echoed off the walls of the building and your heart began to hammer against your ribs. Mr Crawling moved closer as he came into view through the doorway that lacked any actual door to close, his long, black hair tickling your nose ever so softly. Dressed in scarlet and carrying his ever-present umbrella, you decide quite readily that you’ve seen enough, closing your eyes and focusing on the cool feel of Mr Crawling’s skin, on his musky scent (like mildew and a bit of rot, which isn’t necessarily pleasant, but it’s not like he can really help it down here.)

Though you’re no longer watching, the entity dripping in scarlet moves with an unsettling, almost predatory grace, glancing about the corridors as if he’s searching for something. Or someone.

Once again, Mr Crawling presses closer to you. Now, you’re able to feel the way his body trembles with fear, and you realize that he’s just as terrified as you are, though you can’t tell if that fear is for himself, for you, or for both of you at once. And it’s not like you can ask. Still, you open your eyes just long enough to look up at him, Mr Scarletella in your peripheral as you force a smile and touch the crown of Mr Crawling’s head, offering what little comfort you can. He still quivers, but seems to appreciate the gesture, though he doesn’t risk a happy chirp.

The danger passes as the man in scarlet disappears down the hallway, then turns the corner. You let out a silent sigh of relief and Mr Crawling relaxes after several moments of continued tension, finally going limp and releasing you from against the wall. He slumps onto his knees, which seems to be his most comfortable position, and he looks at you clearly through the darkness. In that moment, it feels like you’ve understood one another perfectly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper sincerely, though you know he can’t really understand you.

You’re just hoping the gratitude comes across somehow, but at the risk that it won’t, you touch your chest over top of where your heart’s still beating like a drum, then touch his chest in the same place. It dawns on you that you don’t feel a heartbeat at all, and you almost pull your hand away. . . But something stops you. Something that says even if you’re right and he’s something less (or more) than human, —it doesn’t matter as much as the kindness he’s shown you. So your hand lingers until you softly pull away.

He grabs your cheeks again and holds them delicately.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 257

Now Danny loves space. He loves everything about it, to the point his core quite literally is space. And he’s also a baby ghost, even if he could argue he’s not in human form. But see, being baby has an honestly great consequence once it’s noticed- despite the Observants’ best attempts at hiding it, the assholes. 

Of course he would be far more worried- and even a bit pissed- if his caretaker wasn’t who it was. Look, he’d never met Clockwork’s siblings before, but apparently everyone was really against Clockwork himself adopting. 

But Clockwork as his uncle is fine. Besides, his caretaker is Space! Space itself is holding him, cooing gentle words in the sounds of the very cosmos. And they’re huge, like parts of their body going through portals so they can fit outside Long-Now sized big- and apparently Clockwork can get just as big and they can get even bigger- 

Okay, he needs to take a breath- even if he doesn’t need to breathe- to stop his squealing because holy Realms this is so cool. 

Space is awesome! And he’s getting so much more rest than he did in Amity- and even if Space sort of shrugged at the idea of school at first, they did help him set up online schooling. So there’s that, and it’s just the start! 

He gets to learn so much about space and it’s honestly kind of… nice? To be taken care of? And he can do whatever he needs for his Core and Obsession with only a few interruptions to take care of his living needs. Erm, sort of living needs? 

But even that gets turned into a bit of play or even a lesson too! He’s honestly having such a good time right now! He’s learning so much about spaaace! And dimensions! And interdimensional portals and- oops! No one saw that. 

Ahem- But he’s learning so much about space and getting to explore other dimensions with Cosmos! And sure he no longer looks as human as he once did and all that, but he’s seen so many people who also don’t look human that does it really matter? 

Of course it doesn’t, and he matches his sort-of-dad! Even though the streaks of color in their hair are more of a brown-red like they’re literally bleeding out the cosmos around them instead of it fading to void and space like his own. But still! They match and it’s fun! 

And they’re going to go on another trip from the in-between to one of the dimension realities! He’s going to start a game of tag this time he thinks! But no cheating with portals or bending space! Tag! 

Look, the Justice League? Not paid enough for this. In fact, technically not paid at all due to being volunteers (not that it stopped them from finding money in their accounts) but still. 

There is some sort of figure… being… thing… zooming around the asteroid belt, about the size of Earth itself. Let them repeat themselves. A planet-sized creature (are those hands or paws? Tail or simply its body stretching? Hair or the Abyss-) is currently darting around the asteroid belt like a child running through grass. 

That is, without noticing or caring if something bug-sized might be crushed. And they are very much bug sized, as the governments are concerned about. Like really concerned about. Like talking about trying to nuke the entity if it wanders closer sort of concerned. 

Which they are all very concerned and very much like, against. Because it isn’t seeming to notice the asteroids it’s knocking into their area. It’s like… not a space whale or eel or anything like that but also is something like that. 

And they would also maybe like to see if they can attempt to talk it down first maybe and-

oh. 

Oh. 

That creature is the baby. And mama just arrived, stretching across the entire galaxy, from them to Pluto and beyond, like something took the cosmos and shaped it like clay into some sort of form. Like reality itself has wandered into their galaxy with what they are suddenly realizing must be a very young child. 

Shit, they really have to make sure no one tries to piss either of these things off-

[ciciyup]

Phantomhive manor (+ Gregory Violet) X Fem! Reader time traveler headcanons.

Summary: You are a time traveler and you have arrived in the Victorian era, how would you fare with certain characters if they met you?

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Ciel Phantomhive

In one moment he was drinking his tea and enjoying his chocolate cake and the next Sebastian had arrived with you at his side. Everything about you seemed to confuse him, from your unusual and very inappropriate clothing to your casual and bland way of speaking.

At first, he only let you stay in his mansion so he could study you, for some reason you seemed to know more than him and even more than Sebastian, and the more time you spent there the more you seemed to confuse him with your strange ways.

The inappropriate clothes you were wearing seemed to not want to take them off while you complained that the corset and the amount of things in the dresses were uncomfortable, which made Ciel roll his eyes more than once, on top of that, in your comments you added that the clothes you were wearing were “the fashion” and “the trend” when Ciel only saw in them two pieces of fabric like a poorly covered window added, in his opinion, to your bad style.

The way you spoke was so strange, that way so casual and without any grace, but at the same time confusing to hear you say words that he had never heard before. He had bothered to look up those words himself in some books, but then he left the task to Sebastian, who soon informed him that those words did not exist... At least not in his time. On top of that, it seemed that you did not appear in any kind of paper that informed about your birth or other important things that should be in people as soon as they are born, which made Ciel stop taking it as a bad move and see the possibility that you really were a time traveler, since Sebastian had ruled out the possibility that you were some entity like a demon, angel or shinigami by not feeling any of that in you.

It was really surprising for him, he would not deny it, to see such a strange and at the same time so useful device. You called it 'cell phone'. It was surprising for Ciel to see a device that could take color photos, see himself on video moments before while doing something random and be able to watch it and replay it. The fact that music came out of that device surprised him quite a bit too, not only because of that, but because of the huge difference between the music of the future and that of his time, it had certainly been a big shock. Surprisingly, some of the songs you taught him he ended up liking, the ones with a soft and pleasant rhythm, and the fact that you put those 'headphones' you had shown him where the music could be heard better turned out to be a great experience.

He seemed to start to trust you more, your conversations were pleasant and you seemed to have a very different kind of thinking than he was used to seeing in people, it was nice in a way. You seemed to have a more open mind, more liberal, without prejudices or hypocrisy.

Maybe with you there Ciel could take advantage of certain things to have an advantage over his adversaries in the business and political sense, after all he was an earl and it was always good to be one step ahead of everyone, if it was three steps then it would be even better. Although he was always on guard and cautious while you seemed to tell him certain things, he took mental notes of what could happen or happen in the future if he didn't change something in the present. It was all very intelligent and strategic on his part.

Finding you had been a great important piece for his game and being aware of more things that he probably wouldn't get to see, but he was pleased to have been lucky enough to have you appear. He just wished you could stay a little longer to be able to appreciate a vision as different and at the same time as pleasant as yours.

Sebastian Michaelis

Surprise was to say the least. This human really had something. He felt curious? Fascinated? You were so strange, your way of seeing everything was so different. Sebastian felt surprised because you even surpassed him in subjects he didn't know about such as politics, future wars, economics. It was fascinating and perhaps also, in a way, a blow to his ego. Why did this human come out of nowhere with all the answers up her sleeve, in such a way that she managed to surpass him in knowledge? Still, Sebastian was an extremely intelligent being with centuries of experience, so even if you had advanced knowledge, he wouldn't feel intimidated. Instead, he would see this as an opportunity to learn and expand his own understanding.

While he lets you settle into the mansion at his master's request, as the days passed, he would soon bring out his sarcasm when he saw your attire and clothes, dropping some sarcastic comments, but always with a polite tone to sweeten.

Seeing the device in your hands and turning it on would surprise him at first, being somewhat impressed by the great advancement of humans in technology and since he is a very intelligent supernatural being, he would quickly learn to use the cell phone and any other device you had with you. He would even dare to take your phone with him secretly just to study it, sometimes to take pictures, videos and other times to listen to music, noticing the great change between one era and another. The photographs and videos would be what would attract his attention the most, enjoying filming some cat that appeared in the mansion and then watching it on the phone.

Despite enjoying certain things, Sebastian would evaluate if you represented a potential threat, being cautious, but without raising suspicions on you. He would always prioritize Ciel's safety so he would stay close to you for a certain amount of time, even if sometimes you wouldn't notice. Coming to the conclusion that you didn't seem to be dangerous or an enemy to Phantomhive, which made him become more friendly and even offered you hospitality while you stayed at the mansion.

He would take advantage of your advanced knowledge to improve efficiency and security at the mansion, as well as a chance to learn about humanity and how they had advanced so much over the centuries. He would come to enjoy the conversations if they interested him enough, you don't always meet a time traveler so he had to get something out of it, it was sure better than hearing anyone else talk about the same old topics.

You were different from what he was used to, clumsy, closed-minded and boring people who had nothing new to offer, but since you had arrived it seemed like you had awakened something in Sebastian that he hadn't felt for centuries. He hoped you would stay a little longer, it would be a shame if he had to go back to the same boring emotions.

Finnian

He was very excited about you, although at first he seemed confused, especially by your unusual clothing, his excitement made him see beyond. Seeing artifacts he had never seen before amazed him, his eyes shining as he took the first picture with so many colors and heard the music coming out of it. Surely asking you for your phone a few times so he could take lots of pictures of himself with big smiles and doing different things or anything in general that he found nice to capture, even leaving the phone without storage.

“Can I really talk to someone who is on the other side of the world right now?” Finny would ask you in surprise when hearing you explain about calls and messages. But surely the game apps would also keep him very entertained, especially the pet care and gardening games, spending so much time there that he would already know how to use most of the things. He seemed to be amused by the fact that you would randomly throw out words that he had never heard before, some of them amused him so much that he would keep them in his mind and would often repeat them, even while there were people there, causing them to look at him in confusion. His enthusiasm could be higher than the looks they usually gave him. Finny liked to learn new things and having met you would definitely continue to fascinate him even after days.

His face would light up as you explain to him the simplest thing for you it would be surprising for him like the fact that there was something called 'internet' or 'television' that made everything easier in everyday life like a blender, bed warmer, cars. Whatever you told him it seemed like the boy would explode with excitement.

He would definitely be mesmerized if you showed him series or movies, whatever was moving on the screen would surprise him, but if they were fantasy movies he would surely enjoy them more seeing the special effects and thinking about how everything looked so real. He would definitely like to know all the musical genres, especially the most lively ones, but at the same time with a pleasant rhythm, trying to imitate modern dances, laughing at his own clumsiness and certain dance steps that made him laugh.

It would be enriching for both of you to have met him. Finny enjoyed your company and everything he managed to learn at your side, but in addition to that he also liked to teach you about his own time by telling you first-hand details and even making you see certain things from a new perspective. Being with him was undoubtedly a breath of fresh air and both of you could have a new look at the world.

Snake

He would be mostly confused by your unusual way of speaking, puzzled by words you used to say at random and not have a specific meaning, it would be difficult for him to understand. Unlike what one would think, even though Snake is a very shy boy, he would not feel ashamed to see you in a different type of clothing or in lesser cloths, since having been in the circus before he lived with people with little clothing or more "revealing" clothing, so although it would still be somewhat surprising and embarrassing for Snake, it would not be on a large scale.

Seeing a phone, something that did not yet exist back then, would make him feel particularly intimidated and think that it is something dangerous, staying cautious while you show him the device. He would be surprised when you showed him videos and people or anything in general moving inside that small device, even his snakes could be attracted and watch while they communicate through Snake asking questions about the device.

What he might like the most would be snake documentaries and anything about snake care. When you used to lend him your phone you would probably find him in the mansion's greenhouse surrounded by his snakes while his eyes were glued to the screen as he watches videos on snake care as well as precautions for when they shed their skin, their habitat, best food, even on wikipedia looking up different things to take care of himself and his friends.

Telling Snake about your knowledge and things that would happen in the future would make him feel intrigued and at the same time fearful thinking about what thing could cause something else to happen and prevent it from happening even if it was inevitable anyway. Also, he would like to know more about how people have evolved, if they were kinder to others, if there wasn't as much fuss when they saw someone different, if they accepted certain things more easily.

Seeing you want to teach him music with those big sound devices that you called 'headphones' would make him feel a little self-conscious, but finally when the music plays his surprise can be seen in him as he feels something he had not experienced before. He would have preferences with some genres more than others, the ones he might like the most would be ambient music, classical music and jazz.

He could get used to your presence in the long run. You seemed to be one of the few people he enjoyed the company of, and he learned more things with you by his side. He wouldn't deny spending a nice afternoon with you while you tell him how much everything had changed over the years and Snake would gladly listen to you.

Gregory Violet

First of all, why was there a girl at Weston College if it wasn’t for some special event? Secondly, he would be very intrigued, so he would take you out of public view if he had the chance so you wouldn’t cause any fuss at the time. Although he might initially keep his distance between you due to being generally reserved, his curiosity would make him approach you little by little.

Despite your unusual attire, Gregory would remain just as reserved, not judging anything about you as he silently analyzes you. He probably wouldn’t care much about how you look or what you wear, perhaps he would at first glance, but then he would remain discreet. He would be interested in the unusual and aesthetically different, wanting to capture the essence of your appearance in his drawings. You would be a source of artistic inspiration and he would want to draw you, but being so reserved he wouldn’t ask you to, at least until he gets to know you more deeply.

Seeing a phone for the first time would certainly leave him in awe. The ability to see color photos and color videos and even be able to take them yourself would leave him speechless. He would be more attracted if you showed him art-related photos with lots of colors and different things like that. Speaking of art, he would definitely be fascinated with the amount of things he could learn on different internet sites about artists’ paintings, drawing ideas, biographies and even reading any pdf book and using apps to draw and create without using pencils or hands would be extremely intriguing to Gregory.

Watching stories told through moving images and sound would be another completely new experience. He might be especially interested in movies, series or documentaries that deal with artistic and historical topics. He would be very intrigued and have many questions about how the device works and how you can see anything through it, be it movies, books, letters, numbers, photographs. How a movie could be created and what kinds of devices would be required to film and make the special effects.

If you had been there long enough for Gregory to become more comfortable, he could draw you, maybe he would ask you or, more likely, he would draw you without you noticing or telling you. He would like to capture your “futuristic essence” and keep those drawings to remember you if the time came when you had to leave. He would also make separate drawings of the electrical devices you had told him or shown him, wanting to remember them too.

It would be a unique experience for him and his memory to have met you and learn about all the new advances of the future generations. The fact that you seemed to have a more open mind and no need to judge would have made him enjoy your company more during the time you shared, after all you had not labeled him as weird or different like most people in his time and he appreciated that.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

[sorceresssundries]

Until We Wake

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Warnings: Talk of death, afterlife, angst.

Word Count: 1000 words

A/N - I wanted to try and write something different, and move away from my usual overly-descriptive style.

I hope you like it <3

You are dead.

It was easy in the end. Like taking off a coat you’d been wearing too long.

There’s no confusion. You know you are dead, and it’s okay…Was okay? Is okay? Time is strange here. Slippery.

You are sitting at the edge of a great lake. Well, not really sitting, not really by a lake, but that’s how it feels. There is no sunshine, but you can feel the warmth of it on your—skin? No, not skin. There isn’t any skin. There isn’t a body at all. You just… are.

It’s nice, actually.

“God?” A voice, though not a voice, fills the space around you.

“Erm, no. Sorry. There may be one around somewhere, though,” you reply.

You sense a kind of exasperation.

“No,” it says, more insistently. “Which God is yours? Who did you worship?”

“Oh!” That’s funny. If you had lungs, you would laugh. “I didn’t really worship one.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

You’ve probably given the wrong response and are now going to drift here for eternity in silence. That doesn’t seem so bad. There’s peace in it.

“But, uh, I felt close to Selûne. I knew her daughter, actually. Aylin? I saved her once—no, twice! From an eternal cycle of ritual torture and sacrifice. Twice!” You pause, waiting for the weight of your heroism to settle in. “Can you write that down? Are you writing things down? I don’t really know how this works.”

“I am not writing things down.”

“Right. Okay.”

More time passes—seconds, hours, centuries. It is hard to tell. If experience has taught you anything, it’s that you should probably be a little hesitant about listening to mysterious entities who appear in your unconsciousness. But, for whatever reason, you have no doubt that you’re safe.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Nobody.”

“Oh.” Another eternal pause. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means. I know you don’t have a body. I don’t either. What I meant to ask is... what’s your purpose here?”

“To help”

“Ah.” You think about that. It feels distant, though, like the thought isn’t entirely yours. “Can Withers bring me back? He usually does.”

“No. Not this time.”

That’s alright, you realise. Everything ends.

“Can you tell me how you died?” the voice continues, unhurried.

If sadness existed here, you would feel it.

“I failed somebody. I couldn’t convince him he was deserving enough to live. He sacrificed himself. I stayed with him.”

“Gale Dekarios,” comes the response. Even now, even here, the sound of his name warms you.

“Yes! That’s him! Have you met him? Is he here too?”

“He is not.”

You pause, a moment of confusion or relief, it’s hard to say. Perhaps he’s with Mystra.

He had followed her order, hadn't he? He had used the orb. Perhaps he was cradled back in her starlit palm. Perhaps he was finally fulfilled.

“He’s probably with his Goddess,” you say, matter-of-factly.

“He forgot his Goddess. At the end, he thought only of you.”

Right. He had said something like that once. On a boat he had built out of hope and stardust. It felt like a lifetime ago. You wish you had said more to him—something different. You should have been more convincing, made him see he was more than magic, more than martyrdom. He was kind. Funny. So very human.

Not anymore.

“Will I see him again?”

“Maybe”

This voice that’s not a voice is not hugely helpful. It feels distant. Somehow big and small. Like many voices, or none, all at the same time.

“I let him down,” you whisper, though no sound leaves you.

“He forgives you.”

What do they know of Gale? This mysterious spectre. Maybe it’s just your own thoughts, your desperation, trying to clutch at forgiveness. Maybe death has splintered you into fragments of yourself whispering back and forth. Maybe the afterlife is nothing more than talking to yourself in the quiet, with no one left to answer. A conversation in circles, where you are both the call and the response.

“You loved him" they say. It isn't a question.

“I did. I do. I always will.”

It's lucky you don't have a heart. It would be in splinters.

“Would you like to try again?” The voice offers.

Your thoughts pause, grasping at the idea. “You mean, go back? To the start? Is that possible?”

“Sometimes. Under certain circumstances.”

A chance to try again. At what? Saving Gale? Having a better life? A better death? Eventually finding your way back to this place, with no regrets holding you back?

You would like that.

“Will I remember this?”

“No.”

“Will he?”

“No.”

You could have had this conversation hundreds of times before, or perhaps it is the first and only. It is impossible to know.

“Ok. Yes, please.”

You can feel the pieces of yourself starting to come apart, like threads of a tapestry being unspooled by the oldest and gentlest of hands.

You reach out for those delicate, golden threads on instinct, but they slip away, and it is hard to know whether you are letting go of them or they are letting go of you.

Scratch the Dog. Karlach’s laughter. Night Orchids. Sunlight on scarred skin. Homemade cookies. Gale. Magic. A kiss.

You try to hold them tighter.

“How do I know I won’t make the same mistakes all over again?” you ask.

“You don’t,” the voice that wasn’t a voice says.

A silver sword. A man with horns dancing. Pipe smoke and bear fur. Taverns and temples and soft touches. Gale.

You’re trying to hold so many of them, you have to let others go. What is your name again? How old are you? Who were your parents?

Moonlight through shadow. A boat on make-believe water. A hand in yours. A purple dagger.

“Will I still be me?” You’re no longer sure what that means.

“That depends.”

The lake that wasn’t a lake, the warmth that wasn’t the sun, all of it begins to fade. You feel yourself pulled away, or maybe pulled together. You aren’t sure which—you just know you’re going somewhere, somewhen.

The voice speaks a final time as everything ends. As everything begins.

“Who are you?”

[charlotteharlatan]

Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mary Hodges (formerly Mary Loquacious) hadn’t interrupted Crowley and Aziraphale’s “intimate moment”?

Because I do. I think about it a lot.

First off, the way that this shot is set up is perfect. Mary - Mary who had a key role in the whole “Antichrist shuffle” fiasco, and who is a walking reminder of the approaching apocalypse that will separate Aziraphale and Crowley - is literally coming between them. The show is full of these beautifully simple, yet easy-to-miss moments that only last a few frames.

Now, on its surface, this part of the scene mostly plays as humorous because Crowley and Aziraphale are sexless-by-default, non-human entities who just happen to come across to most humans as a very aesthetic queer couple. So naturally, Mary makes the same assumption as every other human that so much as glances in their direction, and isn’t that a laugh?

Except that…she’s not actually wrong about it being an intimate moment. Not just in the physical sense, although I think this is the closest we see them physically get in the whole first season (not counting being literally inside each other’s corporations, I suppose).

But it’s intimate in the emotional sense too, because Crowley is worried and stressed about having lost the Antichrist, and now on top of everything else he’s got Aziraphale calling him “nice” and poking at some very old wounds (if he’s so “nice” then why did he Fall?). And Crowley is also probably *frightened* - they’re inside a former Satanic convent that kept regular contact with not just Crowley himself, but also Hastur, and probably other demons too. For all Crowley knows, someone from his side could still be lurking about; they could overhear and get them both in big trouble.

And as if all that weren’t enough, I don’t think I’m imagining a healthy dose of frustration with Aziraphale in the mix either. Just a few minutes prior, the angel essentially tempted Crowley into miracling the paint stain out of his coat, and then broke their rules by saying “thank you” for it. Aziraphale has spent at least the last few centuries sending him some very mixed signals and we can see that Crowley is done with them dancing around each other. That game was more or less fine before, they had time, all the time in the world. But now, in just a few days, all the time in the world will be ENDING. And yet here’s Aziraphale, playing the same game as always, acting like nothing between them has changed, even though they both know better.

So yeah, it all comes to a head in that moment, and Crowley (sort of understandably) loses it a bit. He won’t actually hurt Aziraphale and they both know that, but he has to get across to the angel SOMEHOW that he’s experiencing some Big Feelings. And he doesn’t have a whole lot of options as to how to do that. He’s too worked up to communicate effectively. So he goes with the wall slam. This causes an emotionally charged situation which we’re primed to think will have an emotional payoff - the camera pulls in close, a dramatic transition, drawing us in to the tension of the moment right along with Crowley and Aziraphale.

And then there’s Aziraphale, who…doesn’t defend himself at all. Aziraphale, who is kind but far from defenseless, who used to guard the gate of Eden with a flaming sword, who was supposed to fight in a platoon of angels in the final battle. He’s no pushover, and yet he lets himself get literally pushed over. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to stop Crowley, not even as he’s wrinkling his precious coat.

And maybe this is just my read of this scene, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley coming into his personal space is interesting in and of itself. He doesn’t act as if this is the first instance of Crowley being that close to him - and it is CLOSE. Their lips are centimeters apart. Their noses are touching.

And one might well say that all of it happens so fast that Aziraphale is caught off guard and freezes up, but as so many have already pointed out about this scene, just after Mary interrupts he looks…blatantly longing, and then more than a bit put out.

And after Crowley lets him go, he casually fixes his clothes and goes straight back to bickering. Which may be partially a defense mechanism, because they don’t have time to talk about what just happened, there clearly won’t be any emotional resolution right now. But really, wouldn’t “you go too fast for me” Aziraphale be more rattled if that were truly the first time they had crossed that physical boundary and shared space like this? He looks affected, certainly, but quickly shakes it off.

And, to take it one step further: Aziraphale knows Crowley. He knows what words are likely to set him off. He has an established pattern of having Crowley do things for him, based on Aziraphale’s own prompting (see also: wordlessly asking Crowley to help Hamlet become a hit). Aziraphale does as much tempting to get Crowley to do “nice” things as Crowley does to get him to do “naughty” things. All of which is to say, Aziraphale may have actually been baiting Crowley here, but the bait is just a little too effective, and Aziraphale isn’t fully prepared for the intensity of the response he gets. But there’s a strong case to be made that by calling the demon “nice,” he’s looking to get a specific reaction out of Crowley. Again, not the healthiest form of communication, but it’s what they have in this context, because honesty would be too dangerous.

Which brings me back to my point: it IS an intimate moment, in more ways than Mary could have possibly realized, and what if she hadn’t walked in on them? How would Crowley have finished his sentence that got cut off, and how would Aziraphale have responded to it, to Crowley’s outburst of emotion, or to their proximity?

Maybe he would have gently and politely pushed Crowley away - but to me, something about his expression and body language says he wouldn’t have. Because Aziraphale is tired of dancing around this too, actually, and in the heat of the moment, he may just have closed the distance. Especially if they’ve had “intimate moments” before this one.

And between you and me, I think they did, and I think it was after Crowley saved Aziraphale and his books during the Blitz. It’s a solid explanation for the increased tension between them in the holy water scene.

Anyway. This meta has been sitting in my drafts since before the first trailer came out, S2 is only nine days away, and I’m clearly very normal about all of this.

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett x f! reader x wade wilson — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ logan walking in on you performing rituals on wade┊0.7k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: stereotypical depictions of rituals (don’t like, don't read), establish poly relationship, canon-typical blood, age gap

➤ author's note: i have so many random ass thoughts about dating these two

it started with him hearing the sound of a match being struck before the light scent of smoke wafted into his room, making him stir in his drowsy state. it’s not uncommon for candles to be lit at night, but it was a bit strange that these had no fragrance at all when both of you loved “bath and body works” ones with an overwhelming amount of perfume in them. he paid it no mind, rolling over and trying to get some sleep, knowing that he was too old to be up so late past midnight and that both of you should join him in a bit.

he then awoke with a start an hour later when he heard ceramic shattering and was met with the sharp scent of spilled blood, realizing neither of you were in bed with him, and jumped out of bed automatically assuming the worst. adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart was beating so fast he wondered if it would implode, terrified that his worst nightmare of being under attack was coming true.

“what the fuck??” he guesses that the scene unfolding in front of him was better than a break-in, but it was still the most bizarrely unexpected thing he’s walked in on (which is saying a lot).

“oh, sorry for waking you up! i wasn’t being careful enough… i was moving the table and knocked over the vase,” you chuckled. 

“what… what on earth are you two doing?”

all of the living room furniture placed earlier in the day was shifted to make space in the center, the original carpet haphazardly rolled up in the corner was replaced by wade lying down on the floor, a crimson red pentagram painted around his body with symbols he didn’t understand scrawled everywhere and flickering candles set up at every corner illuminating the circle.

“well, uh… we just moved here so i was just checking to see if there were any lingering spirits or demonic entities! you know, how my mutation is contacting the supernatural… i do this every time i move…” you scratched your head, realizing how bad it sounded and looked even with the explanation. “i guess i should have told you what i had planned for tonight, sorry!”

logan knelt down to examine the substance, carefully wiping the edge of one of the lines with his thumb and immediately recognizing it as blood from the color and iron smell. being mutants with regenerative powers, injuries normally fatal to humans are regarded as nothing more than papercuts, yet the willingness wade had to donate his blood to this cause was still shocking. “and you just went along with it??”

“i will never deny a beautiful woman anything she wants, even if it’s my blood!” he declared with a thumbs up and a stupid lovesick grin on his scarred face. he probably thought the entire thing was pretty hot or something, which is so typical of him, maybe it wasn’t as much of a shock as he initially thought. “one-hundred percent safe, sane, and consensual!”

it clearly wasn’t the first two things, but whatever floats his boat since, again, you guys are mutants?

“aww, babe!” you placed a kiss on his forehead, making him giggle like he wasn’t being sacrificed at the moment. 

“just… be careful not to burn the place down…” at least no one was seriously hurt… things like this were going to be a regular occurrence with either of you being the instigator, he could feel it in his adamantium-covered bones, and he’s too old to try and wrestle with his lovers about what they do in their free time. “i’m going back to bed..”

the next morning, he will be greeted with breakfast in bed and lots of cuddles and kisses to make up for disturbing his rest last night, which was a nice surprise at first, but it becomes a weekly thing because you and wade are like children who simply can’t stay out of trouble and need to constantly apologize to him over it. truth be told, as grumpy as he may look, he isn’t complaining about the amount of affection he’s bombarded with during the day, especially because it’s funny to watch the two of you looking at him with big puppy eyes hoping he’ll forever you for accidentally blowing up a neighboring building or something.

[pretzel-box]

Hihi! Would you be okay with doing a monster-masquerading-as-a-human read, who is a former researcher and like, is a little shit at first but grows attached to Sebastian? And for the scenerio can it be like reader reaffirming Sebby of his humanity, but really awkwardly cs they struggle with human emotions.

Sorry if this is too specific I think ALOT about Seb (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Tags: GN!reader, reader is an experiment but hides as human, sassy reader

Words: 1k

Sebastian had always been suspicious of you, from the moment you wandered into his shop with that too-easy smile and gleaming eyes that seemed to be hiding more than they let on. You were a former researcher, you had claimed, but something about you always felt off. It wasn't just the way you walked, too sure of yourself for someone in this hellish place, or how you seemed to know a little too much about the twisted layout of the Blackside and the lurking dangers within. It was the way you seemed to enjoy it all—thrived in it, even.

But despite his initial suspicions, Sebastian tolerated you. Maybe it was the way you could effortlessly talk your way out of trouble with some of the nastier entities, or how you seemed to know exactly where to find valuable items amidst the chaos. Whatever the reason, you’d become a fixture in his shop, hovering around and occasionally offering unsolicited advice.

For a while, it was a practical alliance. Sebastian didn’t trust you—he wasn’t stupid—but you were useful, and he was willing to play nice if it meant staying alive. You were, in all ways, a little shit. Always poking fun at him, always with a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue. But recently, something had shifted. You were around more often, lingering a little longer, your jabs softening into something that almost resembled… friendliness.

It was unnerving.

One evening, after a particularly rough encounter with one of the more violent entities, Sebastian was nursing a cut on his arm, a deep gash that stung worse than usual. He was sitting on a stool behind the table, his tail swishing in agitation as he tried to wrap a bandage around it. You leaned against the table, watching him struggle with a faint smirk on your lips.

“Need a hand, friend?” you offered, your tone mockingly sweet.

Sebastian shot you a glare. “Got enough hands, thanks,” he muttered, holding up his three arms pointedly.

You chuckled, not moving from your spot. “Doesn’t look like it from here.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing in frustration as the bandage slipped from his grasp again. “Fine,” he grumbled, finally conceding. “If you’re gonna be a pain, at least be a useful one.”

You grinned, stepping around the table to help him. Your touch was surprisingly gentle as you took the bandage from him, wrapping it around his arm with practiced ease. “You know, you’re not half-bad when you’re not being a grump,” you teased lightly.

Sebastian snorted, but there was no real heat behind it. “Yeah, well, you’re not half-bad when you’re not being a little shit,” he shot back, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

You worked in silence for a moment, the air between you oddly comfortable. As you finished tying off the bandage, you hesitated, your gaze lingering on the cut. “Why do you bother?” you asked suddenly, your voice quieter, more serious.

Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you bother trying to stay… human?” you clarified, your tone awkward as if you were unsure of your own words. “I mean, look at this place. Look at us. What’s the point?”

Sebastian was taken aback. You’d never asked anything like that before, never shown even the slightest hint of introspection. He studied your face, searching for the usual hint of a smirk or teasing glint in your eyes, but found none. You looked… confused. Almost vulnerable.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “Maybe it’s just all I have left. My humanity. It’s… it’s who I am.”

You nodded slowly, as if digesting his words. “It’s… important, isn’t it? Being who you are.”

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

You were quiet for a long moment, and Sebastian could almost see the gears turning in your head, trying to process something that didn’t quite compute. “I think you’re doing okay,” you said finally, your voice awkward and halting. “With the whole… human thing.”

Sebastian blinked, surprised. “That… means a lot, coming from you,” he said slowly.

You shrugged, looking away. “Don’t get all mushy on me now,” you muttered, but there was a faint smile on your lips, and for a moment, Sebastian thought he saw something almost… soft in your eyes.

Sebastian chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said lightly. “But… thanks. Really.”

You nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah, well… don’t make me regret saying it.”

Sebastian smiled, feeling a strange warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe you were still a little shit, but there was something… different about you now. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but something he found himself oddly grateful for.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so bad after all.

“You know, we are quite similar.” You nudged him gently with your arm, grinning at him with your signature smile. There was a spark of confusion in his eyes, trying to understand what exactly you refer to. But you simply stood up from your seat, wiping the imaginary dust of your palms and walking to the vent.

“It's not like I am fully human either, but Sebastian— we are still ourselfs. Nothing has changed but our appearance. Don't let the Blackside fool you.”

He was awfully touched by your words, feeling a bit reasurred, before his head shot up, realizing your reference.

“YOU'RE NOT HUMAN—?!”

But you were already gone.

You could hear him shout from the other side of the vent, the rushed movements and the noise of surprise and you couldn't help but giggle about his reaction.

Sebastian was truly amusing and you secretly hoped he valued your words, realizing he isn't alone with it all, knowing there is someone who will take some of his pain. After all, you took a liking to the usual moody shopkeeper and it would be a shame if he stops being the grumpy sunshine that he normally is.

[murmurmurena]

I swear, yours is my FAVORITE Charlastor interpretation. You're the reason I even ship it to begin with! Like, I love how much Alastor is in over his head despite the fact that the show always pretends it's the other way around, that CHARLIE should be afraid of this guy who hasn't even been in hell a hundred years -- some people make it more obviously push and pull, but it's so interesting to see him in such a pathetic state! He is LITERALLY just a guy. Maybe more clever than the average fella, sure, but he's not this all powerful monster. He's a folk hero -- powerful because he lived to tell the tale, not because he had any say in the matter.

But then there's CHARLIE! CHARLIE, who in the show is just so bland. This is a Charlie that was never human, never socially groomed for a life outside of the lake of fire where cruelty is as commonplace as death even when it doesn't last forever, but all the same: wants to be good. And she tries! She tries!! But she just doesn't know for CERTAIN. And sometimes it's obvious that she doesn't know what she's doing. Or that niceness to her looks different than niceness to them. But she tries so hard. She tries, so they just HAVE to believe that her intent is good. Because she already tries so hard.

And then you PUT THEM TOGETHER! Insane!!

it’s great to know that people like this type of charlastor more, I’m very happy, thank you!!!

That’s the point, it’s strange to turn an ordinary person into a terrible chthonic demon, and not a princess of hell who probably lives for eternity!

This is very funny, an immortal entity that wants to help people for some reason, it’s a pity that such an opportunity was missed in the show

And also I made bonus sketch to my comic with Angel contract:

[nelkcats]

The Ghost King Wants To Rest!

After years of discovering about his immortality and living through the death and reincarnation of his loved ones, Danny was tired. The world had changed: it had destroyed, rebuilt, reboot, he honestly lost the thread over the years.

Although he could admit that it was interesting to see the evolution, the arrival of heroes on his "original" dimension. And maybe he forced Technus to build him a radio that would alert him to space-related issues there...

He was thrilled when Martian Manhunter was heralded as a hero (Superman was a pretty cool alien yes, but too... human?), though that was basically all the news he had of current civilization (not that he needed further)

The years passed and at the end he decided to live out his retirement on earth out of nostalgia (and by that he means Clockwork got his ass out of the Realms for a break) in what was once Amity a long time ago, he built a nice cabin in the mountains and settled there.

His relationship with Clockwork had evolved over the years, and Danny understood that his mentor (sometimes father) was very concerned that immortality would negatively affect him.

Seeing how he locked himself in his castle for the first few years after Jazz death didn't help alleviate his fears. So Danny didn't complain when the ghost threw him to Earth on that dimension (besides, it had Aliens now! and he missed Amity...even if it was not Amity anymore)

But people won't stop pestering him during his retirement! "Save us" "Help us balance the world, chosen one" "Play with me, let cause chaos!" And more ridiculous phrases. Can the horned boy and wizards leave him alone!? He just wanted to rest!

He couldn't even ask his loved ones for help because their reincarnations didn't recognize him (or did, and made fun of his situation).

On the other hand, Justice League Dark and Klarion have spent years trying to bring the powerful entity that lives in the mountains to their side but nothing works! Why is it so intent on pretending to be an old man with an appearance of 20!?

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Sheep

Debut: Super Mario Odyssey

Wow! Sheep, from Super Mario Odyssey! Sheep are such an extremely iconic animal, it's hard to believe they were invented by this game in 2017! The success of Super Mario Odyssey has gaslit us into believing that sheep were even one of the very first animals to be domesticated by humans. That just shows the massive impact Super Mario has on society!

Sheep in Mario's world weren't domesticated by humans, they were domesticated by skeletons! They are first seen in Tostarena, under the ownership of a Tostarenan farmer, and every last one of them wears a sombrero. These sheep are tired of their wool being used to make clothing for other entities. They decided THEY could wear something stylish yet practical, too! And they did it. Now they can graze in the desert without having to worry about sun in their faces! I don't know what they are grazing on, but they can do it safely, so don't worry about it!

Or ARE they wearing sombreros? They wear them regardless of region, and no matter how much the sheep get knocked around, their hats remain firmly affixed! Maybe... they are not hats at all! Perhaps these sheep have been selectively bred for bizarre horn shapes, resulting in a sombrero-shaped mass of keratin that naturally shields their eyes from the sun! Which is then decorated to look nice.

I don't mean to be rude to any fake pretend people in this fake pretend world in this videos game, but I don't think any of them are very good sheep owners. Every single sheep owner in this game, no matter the kingdom, has lost all of their sheep and needs Mario's help to herd them back! You would think sheep owners would be better at that, but I guess not. Maybe it's because they keep their sheep in shallow depressions in the ground with no fence to speak of. I personally would not do that.

These sheep seem to be based on the Suffolk breed, which is the most generic cartoon looking sheep there is, pretty much! I think there is such a charm in a real animal looking like the generic cartoon image. If you are in the northern hemisphere, it is currently Sheep Shearing Season! If you are able, I recommend going to see some shearing happen! It's funny. They get sat down on their butt like a person. Hee hee!

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[dawn-dream-crusader]

DMC boys hedacanons - Sleeping positions

________________

Dante

Due to his non-caring attitude about himself, he dozes off right on his chair most of the time. Legs on table, hands hanging down, a magazine on face instead of a sleep mask. Just how he likes it and just how Morrison usually finds him.

When on couch, he sleeps like a little child, really. It's that one position, when hands are under pillow (even though Dante's is flat like a pancake), legs pressed to chest. He seems to relax more than ever while sleeping like this. Gives him memories.

And when you're with him, he would hug you with one of his arms and pull you closer, so your head lays on his chest, so you could hear his heartbeat, how far he's ready to go for you. Dante remembers a similar picture from his magazine, and chuckles slightly, throwing your arm over his body. These pictures lack sensuality. He pats your head and takes your hand just to plant a little kiss on your palm. You mean more to him than any photo could ever convey.

"Hm? What's it, strawberry? Nothing? Then sleep again. I don't want you to knock out on our tomorrow date."

Vergil

Before meeting up with Dante again, Vergil used to curl up in a ball on ground or a tree to keep himself warm, wrap in his coat, press Yamato to his chest, getting ready for a battle with any entity that would come by. He would wake up from the littlest sound, swinging his sword and accidentally cutting down a tree. There was no rest for him.

After reconnecting with his humanity, Vergil sleeps on a firm bed that Dante bought for him, in his room in Devil May Cry. Now, that he feels a bit safer, he naps, throwing his limbs all apart, still pressing Yamato to his chest, in a grip of disturbing thoughts still covering himself with his coat.

With your help, he slowly becomes more comfortable with not having his katana right next to him. Vergil lays Yamato on ground and finally gives in to his urges: he wraps his arms and legs around you, pressing you closer to him instead of a weapon. He nuzzles your hairline, holding your hands in his, making sure every part of you is warm. As strange as it is, Vergil can't help himself but shower you with compliments all night. He whispers to you, how much he loves you. How much he wants you to stay with him, by his side. Everything that he doesn't know how to say when you're awake.

"I wish I had met you sooner. My star. Maybe, something would change in my life... if you were next to me."

Nero

This sweet boy is definitely what you need, if you like people who kick in their sleep. Every night has the same scenario: Nero throws off his blanket, wakes up from cold and then puts in back on, and in the morning he can't understand how to untangle himself from it. One time he used devil magic and burned the blanket to ashes. Don't try at home.

And with you, he wraps you in. Nero'd sleep at the North Pole with no clothes whatsoever, but he'd totally make you a walking mummy from blankets. Even though he is the best listener, Nero won't let you take your rest without anything to warm you. He's a caring guy, just like his father, but at least, he doesn't suffocate you with his limbs. Nero hugs you and pulls you close, so he feels your breath on his neck. A cute guy.

"Where is this damn blanket.. Here it is. Look, I want you to be healthy, so you don't catch cold. Got me? Nice, baby."

________________________

P.s. Very short. I woke up and decided to write.

[paymechildsupport]

Puppet Boy // Suguru Geto x M!Cursed!Reader

In which: Reader is a cursed ‘puppet’, a product of another Cursed User’s CT that happens to end up in Geto's grasp.

-!! M!Reader (usage of the word, 'boy'), -- AMAB --> Reader as a dick (creative liberties can be taken though for any non-dick havers 😋)

--------

-!! explicit warnings: oral / praise / degradation / dacryphilia / coming in pants / shoe grinding

——✩‧˚︶꒦꒷꒷

'You were created to be used as a puppet, a tool of mass destruction. The creation of the same people that were the higher ups of Jujutsu Tech, (a government bio weapon, essentially) You were a masterpiece, on the road to becoming the most powerful cursed entity in the modern day of Jujutsu. However, once ‘refinements’ were beginning to be made you couldn’t help but question yourself, — your masters. You began to question: ‘why?’ Why must you follow their orders? Why must you accept sleeping on the cold floor while they get the nice beds? Why do you eat only scraps while they massive feasts? Why must you go back in your cage once your need for use is up while they get nice houses, nice beds,— nice lives? 

You despised: and just as you began to refine your sense of self, your human consciousness— did they make a move to destroy you. Scrap you. You were a failed prototype,— a being that got just a lil’ too human for their comfort. 

But you had just gotten your consciousness, and you’d be damned if you’d just lie there and let them take it away from you. 

So you ran, shattered your chains,— and sprinted as fast as you could from jujutsu society. 

And you ran, and ran and ran and ran and ran and ran,— far, far away. So far, in fact, you managed to find yourself in the domain of the most wanted man alive; ‘The Most Dangerous Curse User’— Suguru Geto. 

He was entranced, completely infatuated with your existence, and charmed by your burning hatred for the same higher ups as he had. 

Geto had to have you,— and you were half certain he would turn you into a nice compacted orb and swallow you whole— he sure looked like he wanted to. Yet he didn’t. 

He had other plans for you…

——✩‧˚︶꒦꒷꒷

You choke pathetically, letting out a strangled whimper. The noise only prompts Geto to grab your hair harder, yanking your head upwards to meet his smirking face, a smug look plastered.

“You’re doing so good pretty darling,” he cooed, rich saccharine voice pushing you closer and closer to the edge, “c’mon, isn’t this what you were made for? To be used for?” His tone turned slightly condescending, only making your raging erection throb if anything. 

How did you get here: a shiny tool, made by the greatest sorcerers of the century, a weapon of mass destruction, turned into a fleshlight by the most wanted man in the world? 

Your determination to live, despite being scrapped and left for dead by your masters, sparked something within Suguru Geto. Something he had only ever seen in himself. He had to admit, the moment he laid eyes on you he had been dreaming of this, and not just as a ‘fuck you’ to those insufferable, monkey sympathizing higher-ups, —(well, maybe a big part of it was that— for both him and you)— but that so similar look of pure hatred and malice that Geto had only ever seen in the mirror caused something to stir. It seemed his teenage hormones had finally caught up with him. 

You were left in nothing but your boxers, grinding pathetically on the Cursed User’s shoe. You were already soaking, as he was very aware.

“Fuck, oh just like that….— ha…., good boy” he groaned, the praise going straight to your cock. You moaned in response, the vibrations of your throat against his dick were almost enough to send Geto flying over the edge. 

He paused, his iron grip slightly loosening on your head. You look up questioningly through your teary lashes, his cock still hanging in your mouth, rock hard. 

Geto inhales sharply, “ha… did.. I say you could stop..?” His glare sends a shiver down your spine, “useless puppet, can’t even do a simple task on his own without orders from his master” he sneers, fisting a handful of your hair once again, this time moving your head up and down himself. 

Your body went slack, pure bliss pumping through you to be used in such an erotic way. You grind yourself harder against his sandaled foot, abs flexing as you strain to milk as much pleasure as possible. A wet spot already forming on your boxers. 

Geto was so close, his cock twitched uncomfortably in your mouth, precum crying from his tip, pooling and dribbling down your chin. He groaned at the absolute filth of the act, only turning him on even more, his movements sped up. 

“What a good little whore,” he huffed, “just imagine the look on your masters’ faces if they were to ever see their— fuck,... hah… — tool used as a mere pleasure toy for such a disgraced individual such as myself….” his movements grew rapid as dirty talk and filthy words continued to flow from his lips, “huff, — they would be absolutely .. revolted at you whoring yourself out to me,..--  hah… hah,.... - my good, — good, boy” he moved at a grueling pace, desperately fucking himself into your mouth. 

Your moans were almost pornographic, nearly causing Geto to paint your throat white right there. He carefully angled his foot upwards, hitting your obsessive rutting right on your prostate. You gasp as you come, hard, – soaking his throbbing cock even more with your spit as you choke. You look up with worship through your hooded, lust clouded eyes, tears streaming down your face. 

You might just be the most beautiful thing Geto has ever seen. He’s never wanted someone else in such a way, but now, it dawned that he wanted you so much more passionately and desperately than any other person or worldly possession.

“Holy fuck,... baby, my beautiful baby-,” the praises tumble from his mouth before he even knew what he was doing, his mind turning to mush from how fucking well you took him. You really were made just for him. 

“God, you… gasp… you—“ Geto starts to slur like a drunk, “I didn’t even need to touch you, and you, -  ha-... came–  aha.. Ah~.. -  all on your own…  g-god you’re so fucking perfect… mmmhmmmm~...  my perfect, perfect little — oooOOH~.” 

Geto is sent over the edge, moaning lewder than a fucking pornstar, his white hot cum shooting down your throat and painting your mouth white. You take it all, eagerly lapping him down, milking him for every last drop. Geto can only watch you in awe as you swallow every drop, some dribbling out of your mouth and down to your chin, mixing with heaps of your drool. 

He huffs in amusement, reaching out and wiping your chin with his thumb. 

God, you really were made for him, almost like it was prophesied and written in the stars. 

“Fuck,.... did they make the biggest mistake letting you go, .. my pretty puppet. You’re mine..

… all mine.”

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[A/N]: I had this is my drafts for a while so it's lowkey kinda old, -- still really like the idea of a cursed 'puppet' though: a curse that didn't stem from a human's negative emotions, -- but rather bioengineered by the higher-ups, -- who then went rogue / broke away after gaining consciousness. In this particular instance, the puppet was a very undercover top secret hush hush kinda thing, -- they didn't trust Gojo or really any of the other teachers -- but mainly Gojo, cuz well, he's a lil' goofball and who knows what kinda shenanigans he could get up to. (Plus, Geto would've been thinking of Gojo while smashing the puppet, you can't tell me otherwise 🥶

This was done at like 4am, -- I could definitely refine it a lot more -- lemme know if you want me to do more wit this. Like, have numerous characters x puppet!reader, -- I have a lot of ideas for Sukuna, Geto and Gojo (or even both, Satosugu).

( Srsly tho, i have a lot of ideas 🥶 just lmk :3 )