#so it's only fair that it isn't polished

[flo-n-flon]

Whoever decided we should get one Siuaraine moment per trailer was right

[jellybonbons]

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       

- Oscar Wilde

[amomentsescape]

Could I request slashers with a reader that has the mind of a crow. Collects bones, shiny trinkets and is oftenly mischievous.

+ Hannibal (series) I don't know wither he would spoil you or would collect trinkets in the woods from his previous victims.

Slashers with Crow-Like Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, Lester, & Hannibal

A/N: I wasn't sure how to title this, but I tried my best. Thank you for the request!

Freddy Krueger

Your collection is more so just interesting to him

Even as a notorious killer, he doesn't really see the need to keep "dust collectors" hanging around

So when he first sees all of the trinkets and random things you have, he just chuckles

"What are you gonna do with all this junk?" he jokes

This earns a stern glare from you, and this has him backing off on the teasing (just slightly)

It takes a little time for him to warm up to helping you find more things to collect

But the one time he did, you gave him such a huge smile that he realized this needed to be something he did more often

Anytime he goes on one of his dream "sprees," he always comes back with a new polished bone for you

(He cleans it himself)

If any of his victims were carrying something shiny, it also becomes yours by the next night

Keys, coins, jewelry, hair pins, etc. are all part of your collection very quickly

And although it took him a while to accept this hobby of yours, he has always loved your mischievous side

You've stolen his hat and glove numerous times now

He didn't even realize it in the moment

But your little pranks only fueled his desire to do the same to you

The amount of times you've found a little bone or finger in your cup has you rolling your eyes

But you've kept everything he's given you so far

Everything

Michael Myers

Michael very much does not care about your hobbies

Whatever you want to do for fun is your thing

As long as it isn't getting in his way or affecting his own hobbies, you can do what you want

All of the little items you have lining the shelves and hanging from the walls doesn't even phase him

You could have a human head on your nightstand, and Michael would just give you a nod of approval

Just don't leave anything out where it can be stepped on or knocked over

Michael isn't one to be "careful," so if one of your trinkets is on the floor, he will step on it and not feel any remorse

"It shouldn't have been there in the first place" is always his argument

And since he is neutral about your collection, he doesn't really think to bring anything back for you

Unless some shiny object literally rolls out in front of him where he can see it, he doesn't take anything

He won't do anything intentional to hurt your collection, but he also doesn't go out of his way to fuel it either

He also doesn't react to your mischievous ways

Your little pranks or jokes elicit zero reaction from him

You've practically given up on trying anything with Michael at this point because he just doesn't respond to your behavior

Just do NOT touch his knife

Jason Voorhees

Jason know literally nothing about decorating or collections

So having you around to put little items in the cabin is really nice for him!

He likes looking around every day to see what's new

He doesn't say this to you, but he finds the bones just a little weird

Has he seen his fair share of guts and gore?

Of course

But he's never really thought to keep any of those... parts

But to each their own he guesses

The moment he learns about your fondness for shiny objects, he is all about supporting it

Any victim of his is immediately searched to see if there's anything that you would like

He even likes to stroll around the woods at times and just look around for anything that shines

He loves to see how happy you get anytime he comes home with something for you

It always manages to make his day

Your little pranks and jokes towards him mostly just cause confusion

He's a bit sensitive to it at first to be honest

The only "pranks" he ever remembers were from when he was relentlessly bullied and picked on

So just be careful where you tread with this because those memories are still very difficult for him

But overall, he really loves your quirks and collections

Thomas Hewitt

Oh, you like to collect bones?

Well, does Thomas have a treat for you

You've been able to rebuild two full skeletons with everything he's given you so far

You actually had to tell him to slow down on how many bones he was giving you

But this overload in your collection honestly works out

He's used to having literal body parts as his decor around the house, so you just adding to that "aesthetic" makes him really happy

It just reinforces that you're part of the family

And when he learns that you also have a love for collecting shiny trinkets?

You better believe he's also going overboard with that too

If it shines, it's yours

Dozens of quarters, keys, belt buckles, earrings, and even cell phones are given to you

Even if the object doesn't really shine, he'll pick it up

Once again, you have to explain that you didn't need ALL of these things

Your mischievous personality is also something he doesn't mind fueling from time to time

If you prank him, he'll get you back

You've hidden his favorite knife and apron before

But once he found them, he was all smiles

He thinks your jokes keep his life exciting, and that only makes him love it more

Bubba Sawyer

Of course, Bubba also fuels your bone collection

He's a bit messy about it though, handing you a bucket of bloody and poorly picked bones, but the sentiment is there

He's also found some creativity with it!

Recently, Bubba has found an interest in jewelry making

Anytime he can, he collects the teeth from his victims and makes you a necklace and bracelet set to have

He gets especially giddy when you try them on for him

It's like hanging up a child's artwork on the fridge

He just feels so proud of himself for making you happy

He also loves to find shiny trinkets for you too

Bubba is easily distracted by light, so it's pretty easy for him to pinpoint different items that he knows you'll like

He sometimes gets a little down on himself if he accidentally gets you something you already have though

He's also a bit sensitive to your mischievous nature

Jumping out and scaring him sends him into an erratic frenzy at first

But when he learns that these are all "pranks" that you enjoy, he warms up to the idea more

He'll try to scare you multiple times a day after that

It quickly becomes very predictable, but you still fake a reaction sometimes since Bubba gets upset if his attempt goes unsuccessful

Brahms Heelshire

As much as he still feels anger towards his parents, he can't help but still care about the upkeep of the home

He wouldn't really care about your hobby in any other situation

But this is his home, and he doesn't think dead animal bones and random trinkets look good scattered all about

If you keep your collection to yourself, then he doesn't really mind

He may raise the occasional brow at you, but he doesn't say much for the most part

Just don't set anything in his parent's room or certain areas of the house

He will throw your items away despite any protest

He doesn't do much in the way of adding to your collection either

He doesn't leave the house and hardly anyone ever comes by

Plus, he doesn't really like the bones you have and would prefer not to add to it

However, there is the small occasion that he finds a shiny nickel under the couch or a missing earring hidden in the corner of the room

He doesn't mind you having these items and will gladly hand them over if it means seeing you happy

In the way of mischievous behavior, he doesn't really care as long as you stick to the rules list 100%

In fact, he finds some of your pranks and decisions pretty entertaining

They give him an excuse to get back at you too...

Norman Bates

He won't lie; the bones freak him out a bit

As long as you explain that you aren't actively killing things to obtain them, he's mostly fine

He has his own interest in taxidermy anyways

But he would rather keep the animal looking like an animal and not the skeleton of one

But as long as you keep them to yourself, he doesn't care

He just doesn't want to see them scattered about the home and motel

He also doesn't fully understand your fascination with anything shiny

He thinks it's cute, the way your eyes light up the moment something catches your attention

But he doesn't really see the charm unless it's actually worth something

But of course, he cares about your happiness a lot

So even seeing an empty gum wrapper on the table forces him to pocket it so he can gift it to you later

Nothing really beats the excitement you show whenever you get something new

With that being said, he isn't really a fan of some of your behavior

Every item has it's place, so he becomes frustrated whenever you move anything

Spying on him or even scaring him just leaves him on edge and antsy

He much prefers a relaxed and quiet environment, that's for sure

Billy Loomis

You collect what now?

When you show him, his reaction goes from utter confusion to slight interest

Considering what he does in his free time, he kind of appreciates your morbid hobbies

When he sees that all of your bones are from little animals, he gets a dark smile on his face

"Wouldn't you rather have the real deal?"

Comes home the next night with a literal FEMUR

You have no idea how he managed it, especially since he isn't one for getting messier than necessary

But the happy look on his face was enough to make you not question anything

And of course, any future killings always involves him coming home with some type of bone or shiny object for you

He just shrugs it off like it's no big deal, but he honestly enjoys seeing you so appreciative

With that being said, some of your schemes can make him irritable at times

He thinks a lot of your pranks are childish, and he's often comparing you to Stu

"Did he teach you that one?" he rolls his eyes

He never really thought he'd be with someone as quirky as you, but he has learned to appreciate it

It makes him feel better about his own morbid interests too

Stu Macher

He stated that your collections were "sick"

In the good way

The first time he saw all the little bones you had, he tried to fit them together in order to build some new hybrid animal

Asks you a ton of questions about everything

"What was this one from?" "Where did you find this?"

He's like a little kid learning a new subject in school

He also has a similar affinity to shiny objects like you

He has a little spot on his desk made up of old coins and random paperclips he just picked up for no reason

He often gets bored when he's out, so anything that glimmers his way must be a sign that he needs to take it

But since learning of your interests, he quickly begins sharing this habit with you

Any shiny object he comes across is picked up

Even if he's not that interested in it, there's still a chance that you might like it

He may or may not have shoplifted a few times purely on accident

His mind just doesn't think those things through sometimes

And when you begin revealing your mischievous ways towards him, you better believe he's going to get back at you tenfold

It's like a constant battle between you two with bad behavior

And you have yet to find a victor

Billy has yelled at both of you numerous times when he somehow gets dragged into the behavior

You and Stu just laugh together every time

Vincent Sinclair

As a fellow person with odd collections, he respects it

He also really loves that you two have something like that in common; it makes him feel "normal"

He has anything from rocks to wax figures to little pieces of jewelry

Since he hasn't had social contact with the outside world, these collections were his friends

The bones you have are a little odd to him, but he's not one to judge at all

He unfortunately doesn't add to your collection with human bones, but he happily supplies little animal bones he finds inside all of the desolate buildings

If there's any jewelry or shiny object on one of his victims, he'll take them and give them to you later since he knows how happy they make you

Vincent is easily influenced and will likely start to pick up on your behaviors as well

Will also begin to collect shiny trinkets so that you two can share and compare

He may also start to become fascinated with little bones and how they would fit back together

With that being said, he doesn't quite pick up on your pranks and funny behavior

He happily stands back and watches though

The amount of times you've jumped out at Bo and caused him to go into a cursing fit has Vincent silently laughing in the corner

He may not always have the guts to stand up to his brothers, but it's nice that you're willing to do so for him

Bo Sinclair

He's definitely communicated his odd feelings about your interests

"Now, why would you wanna do somethin' silly like that?"

With that being said, he doesn't tell you to stop doing anything, he just thinks it's weird

Has compared you to Vincent multiple times in the past

He sort of turns his nose up to your bone collection

He won't even touch it

He says he just thinks it's gross, but in reality, it kind of freaks him out a bit (not that he'd ever admit it)

The shiny trinkets you have though are a little more "normal" in his eyes

Whenever he sees something that shines now, he always lets out a big sigh and picks it up for you begrudgingly

Says you have him "trained"

But in reality, he does love to make you happy

He just doesn't love the little pranks you pull on him

Scaring him, following him around, tackling him in the middle of night are all things he's forced himself to grow accustomed to

He still goes into a pouty fit and tells you to "knock it off"

But his threats only go so far

He soon figures that if he can't get out of the game, he might as well beat you to the win

So be sure to watch your back

He has plans on getting you tenfold

Lester Sinclair

You collect bones...?

Well, good! Because so does Lester

He's always had a knack for picking up any random scraps he thought were interesting

Bo has made fun of him plenty of times for it

But that seemed to die down now that he has you

You've both sat with each other and your collections, swapping random trinkets and talking about where some of them came from

All the while, there's the biggest smile on Lester's face

He's definitely one to give, so he always manages to find a couple items every day to take home to you

But if he finds something especially cool, you may have to "fight" him on it

(The battle never lasts long since all you have to do is give him a big kiss and he gives in)

He truly believes that having you around makes his life so much more fun too

The little games you like to play, and the way you always keep him on his toes really brings him a lot of joy

In a place like Ambrose, there isn't much for change or oddity

So meeting you was truly a blessing in all accounts

Hannibal Lecter

When you first shared your collection and true colors with him, he just responded with a quirk of the brow

Sure, he could give you a bunch of science-y answers on why you do this blah blah blah

But he knows that wouldn't change anything

Besides, he honestly likes your quirkiness

He may look suave and put together on the outside, but he also has some darker and more intriguing interests on the inside

He always manages to surprise you with a new animal bone you have yet to obtain or some shiny object that you have not seen before

You have no idea how he does it, but he never fails to amaze you

Of course, he doesn't share with you how he actually gets these trinkets, but you don't pry

You're just really happy to have someone who encourages your interests rather than shut them down

With that being said, he's a bit of a stinker when it comes to your mischievous side

He knows your intentions almost better than you do

You can't get a single thing past him without him knowing

Because of this, you haven't been able to surprise him with anything

It's a bit annoying

But what he doesn't give you in fun, he makes up for in gifts and spoiling you

[wholoveseggs]

Hello. Was wondering if you’d be willing to write about a dom Elijah with a reader who’s just being an absolute brat and he’s over it please?

Cat and Mouse

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

It's your anniversary party, but you are terribly bored, and the one person you actually want to be around isn't playing fair.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) This was a blast to write, dom Elijah makes me feral too ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutttt, Elijah being playful, dom!Elijah, rough sex, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, Elijah using his tie as a leash, oral sex, and a game of hide & seek....

Elijah was a gentleman in the most basic sense of the word; his smile was disarming, his words were polite, and his eyes were soft and caring. And, for the most part, that was true.

And to the untrained eye, it looked as though Elijah was simply guiding you to a quiet corner, hand placed lightly on the small of your back, a gentle smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes.

But once you were alone, it was very clear Elijah was not going to be as kind as he was making himself out to be. You had been misbehaving, and he was about to give you a reminder of exactly what happened when you did.

You were going to pay dearly for what you had been doing. And it was all because you were bored.

You had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get Elijah to notice you, and you had been failing at it miserably.

The party was his idea, and you didn't care much for them. But, like everything else, Elijah was very convincing and got you to agree. You were now regretting that.

It was your anniversary, and while you were happy to be with Elijah, you hated parties, especially ones where you were the guest of honor.

Elijah had made sure every last detail was taken care of, and he was determined that everyone had a great time, and that included you. So when he caught you rolling your eyes, or looking bored, he was quick to correct you.

You only wanted one thing out of this special day, and it wasn't something you could do in the middle of the crowded ballroom.

So, after yet another failed attempt at getting him to pay attention to you, you decided to do the only thing you could think of.

You would start annoying him.

So far, the only person you'd managed to annoy was yourself. You hadn't even made Elijah blink.

So you decided to start small. You started with little things.

You would pretend to affectionately adjust his tie, but leave it in a way that you knew would irritate him. He didn't even acknowledge it.

When he pulled you on to the dancefloor, you would purposefully step on his toes, scuffing up his perfectly polished shoes. He just chuckled softly and held you tighter, but still didn't say anything.

After that, you got a little more desperate.

You were standing beside him, trying to talk to one of the other guests, but you had no idea what they were talking about, and you didn't really care. Your hand wandered from his side, down to his hip, then further down to his ass. You gave it a little squeeze.

Elijah didn't even flinch.

He kept talking like nothing had happened, and you had no idea if you had managed to piss him off, or not.

That was until he excused the two of you and guided you away from the ballroom, his hand firm on your back, his smile gone, and his eyes dark and serious.

"Do you think you're funny?" Elijah asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you replied.

His hand was still light on the small of your back, but his fingers were pressing into your spine, forcing you to stand straight. His smile was still pleasant, but his lips were tight and his jaw was set.

You were in a quiet corridor, out of earshot of the other guests. He backed you up against the wall, his hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place.

"You have been acting out." His voice was still calm, but his tone was sharper, and you winced at his words. "You've been defiant, and rude, and you disobeyed me, and I'm beginning to suspect it's a deliberate choice."

He was right, it was deliberate, you wanted to piss him off, make him react. You liked pushing his buttons, but he was always so controlled, it was getting harder and harder to get a reaction from him.

You had this secret fantasy, to get Elijah so riled up that he would lose his cool and fuck you like an animal. To fight, and struggle, and have him pin you down, and take what was his. You had always felt safe with Elijah, he is your loving husband, he would never hurt you, but sometimes, when you were in the mood, you wanted to play rough.

And when you saw him in his perfectly tailored tux, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You needed it, so badly. You couldn't wait anymore, you were sick of him being so polite, composed, and controlled.

You wanted him to be rough, aggressive, and dominant. You wanted him to hold you down and have his way with you. You had discussed this fantasy with him before, and he'd been... not dismissive, per se, but not willing to fulfill it. He'd explained why, he was afraid he would hurt you. But you were no delicate flower; you were a vampire like him, and you could take a rough fucking.

"Yes, and?" You replied defiantly.

His eyebrows arched slightly and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Since you want to act like a child and play games, let's play one," His voice was steady and smooth, but the fire was in his eyes, and a thrill ran through your body. "You will run and hide, and I will come and find you, and when I catch you..." he leaned in, his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot on your skin, "I will have my way with you."

Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your heart pounding. You licked your lips.

"What do I get when I win?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"You won't," Elijah said matter-of-factly.

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for the inevitable 'but,' but it never came. You didn't have a chance of winning. He was faster and stronger than you, and you both knew it.

"3...2...1." His voice was soft and playful, and then you heard the sound of his feet as he rushed off.

You spun around and tried to catch him, but he was gone, and all you could see was a blur. You began to run, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you hurried through the compound.

You sped all the way back to the party, stopping suddenly when you entered the ballroom, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You quickly fixed your dress and looked around. There was no sign of Elijah, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't following you, maybe he was giving you a chance.

As you looked around the room, searching for a place that you could use to your advantage, you felt his warm hand on the small of your back. He pulled you against him, his hand sliding up and caressing the nape of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Behind you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his other hand sliding around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roaming over your curves.

You pulled away from him and spun around but he had vanished. He was faster than you, his movements quicker, and you struggled to track him.

It was equally infuriating and arousing how he teased you, playing a cat and mouse game. He was having fun, and it made you want him even more.

The crowd of guests parted and you saw him, leaning against the far wall, a glass of champagne in his hand, his gaze fixed on you. You stared at him, daring him to approach you, but he didn't move. He was just grinning, his eyes sparkling as the music changed, and Elijah moved.

You watched him walk toward you, his steps confident, his shoulders squared, and a wicked smirk on his face. Then he was suddenly gone, and you gasped.

You searched the crowd frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared again, and you knew it was futile to search for him. You knew he was watching, enjoying the chase.

"Just admit defeat and I'll go easy on you," his voice was a seductive whisper in your ear. You didn't know how he did that, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You swallowed hard, and looked around. He wasn't there, but you could still hear his voice, feel his breath on your skin.

"Or perhaps you want me to chase you, to hunt you down, and fuck you in front of all these people," he chuckled, and your face flushed, and your pulse quickened. "Maybe that's what you've been trying to accomplish."

"You think too highly of yourself," you retorted, hoping your voice sounded calmer than you felt.

"You look like you're talking to yourself in the middle of the ballroom," Elijah's voice was smooth, and he sounded like he was right behind you. You spun around, but he wasn't there. "You should be careful, or someone might think you're crazy."

You were growing tired of the chase; of Elijah's smugness. You were frustrated, and horny, and you were starting to hate him a little. You headed towards the stairs, deciding that you were going to lure him to a more private setting.

Just then you heard the sound of tapping against champagne flutes. Elijah was making his way to the stage, a microphone in his hand. He looked perfect, standing tall and proud, his smile wide and dazzling. You felt your heart race. You stood there, frozen, as Elijah addressed the guests.

"It's time for my wife and I to make a toast," he said, his voice deep and resonating. He looked at you, gesturing you to come to the stage. You felt everyone's eyes on you and you had no choice but to follow. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. 

"When I first met my wife," he said, his eyes focused on you, "I knew right away that she was the one." He smiled down at you, and you smiled back, a blush spreading across your cheeks. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your flesh. "She is the most beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman I have ever met. And now, after all this time, I'm more in love with her than I ever thought possible." He was looking deep into your eyes, and you felt your knees go weak. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you melted into him. "Happy anniversary my love,"

The crowd cheered and clapped, and the band started playing again. Elijah kissed your cheek, then whispered in your ear, "We're not done playing yet. Go and hide, and don't let me find you." His voice was a growl and his lips were hot on your ear. You pulled away and stared at him, your heart racing, and you saw a glint in his eye. He was still playing with you, and you were ready for him. You rushed off, and Elijah was once again chasing you.

You managed to make it to the top of the stairs, looking around frantically, trying to decide which way to go. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it difficult for you to focus.

You decided to turn left, and headed down the hall. As you turned the corner, you saw Elijah standing at the end of the hall, by the window, looking out. He turned and looked at you and you bolted in the other direction.

You heard him chuckle softly as you ran, and he followed close behind. You almost made it to the landing, but his strong arm snaked around your waist and hauled you backwards, you let out a squeak as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you down the hall.

"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to struggle out of his grasp.

He kicked open the door to the nearest bedroom, and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Behave," he ordered, throwing you on the bed.

You glared at him, and sat up, you were not going to give in, not yet. He pushed you back down with one hand, the other undoing his tie and sliding it off.

The vision of him, his hair messy and his eyes wild, his jaw clenched, his hands working at the buttons of his shirt, was one that would be burned into your memory forever. It was the most erotic thing you had ever seen, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He smiled, and slid his shirt off, and then undid his belt, pulling it free. He tossed it aside, and his hands went to the button and zipper of his pants.

"Take off your dress," he ordered.

"No."

He smirked, and grabbed the fabric in the center of the dress, and yanked. It ripped apart easily, and he tossed the ruined garment aside.

"It wasn't a request," he growled, pushing his pants down, and stepping out of them.

He grabbed your thighs, and yanked them apart, and crawled up on the bed between them. His hands moved up to your waist, and he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted under him, and his tongue parted your lips, seeking yours. You moaned as he kissed you, and you could feel his hard cock pressed against you.

"You have been so naughty," he murmured, pulling away, and looking down at you. "And I have been patient, I've given you plenty of chances to stop, and now you've reached your last warning."

He pulled back, and his hand came up to cup your face.

"Be a good girl and apologize," he purred.

"Fuck off." You replied defiantly.

He growled and pulled you up, flipping you over and yanking your hips up, his fangs sunk into your ass, making you cry out.

"Say you're sorry," he growled, licking the bite.

"Never," you hissed, pushing back against him.

"You are such a brat," he chuckled, grabbing your hair and pulling it, making you arch your back.

He grabbed his tie, wrapping it around your neck and using it as a leash, pulling you back against him, his hand reaching down to your panties. His fingers gently rubbing over the wet fabric, a stark contrast to his rough grip on your neck.

"These are a little wet, my love," he teased, sliding a finger underneath the material, and running it along your slit.

"Shut up." You hissed, your legs shaking, and your pussy aching.

"What was that?" He growled, pulling the tie tighter, forcing your head back so it was resting on his chest. He looked down at your desperate expression, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen, and licked his lips.

He pushed you back down onto the bed, pressing your face into the mattress, and slid the panties off, tossing them aside. He let out a low, satisfied moan, as he got a view of your perfect, dripping cunt.

"Looks like I've found the perfect punishment," he purred, sliding his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh.

He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. Then he flipped you over onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed, and spread your legs, exposing your glistening pussy.

"You can beg all you want," he said, spreading the lube over his fingers. "But until I think you're sincere, I won't fuck your pretty little pussy."

"I hate you," you spat, as his fingers slid over your ass, coating it with lube.

"I love you, too," he replied, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

He pushed one finger into your tight asshole, making you gasp.

"Hmm, when was the last time I fucked this hole?" He asked, slowly pumping his finger in and out. "Must have been a few months ago, it's very tight."

"Please," you whimpered, as his fingers stretched your hole.

"You'll have to do better than that, darling," he purred, adding another finger, stretching your hole further. His hand came down hard and smacked your thigh, leaving a red handprint behind.

"Fuck you," you growled.

He chuckled, and pulled his fingers out, and lubed up his cock, stroking it.

"Oh, I plan on it."

He leaned down, and pushed the head of his cock into your ass, and then stopped, a smug smile on his face.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He said, his voice low and dangerous. "You wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like an animal."

You tried to wriggle free, but he had you pinned. He was stronger than you, and he knew it. He grabbed your throat and squeezed, cutting off your air.

"Well, here we are." He growled, pushing his cock deeper into your ass, until his balls were pressed against your skin.

He wound the tie around his fist, pulling it towards him, and used it as a leash, dragging your neck upwards, forcing you to look at where you were connected. His other hand reached down, and rubbed your clit, his thumb swirling around it.

"Please," you moaned, and his hand came down again, and smacked your pussy.

"What was that, darling?" He teased, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, as his cock twitched in your ass.

"Please fuck me, I need you," you whimpered, your pussy throbbing.

He began to move his hips, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he pounded your ass.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his hand coming up and smacking your face. "You're being such a good little whore, taking my cock in your ass."

You opened your mouth to say something, but his fingers slid into your mouth, causing you to gag and choke.

"Don't worry, I'm going to fuck that pretty little pussy soon," he moaned, his pace quickening, as his hips slapped against yours. "I could never deny my wife such pleasure."

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and slid his hand down your body, his fingers dancing over your skin, and then slipping inside your cunt.

"Such a beautiful pussy." His voice was thick, and he licked his lips. "And it's all mine."

He was completely in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. The look on his face made you ache. He was so beautiful, and powerful and you loved it. Your whole world narrowed to the sensations his skilled fingers and his thick cock were drawing out of you.

He pulled on the tie, restricting your breathing, and the feeling sent a surge of arousal straight to your core. He pushed his fingers deep inside you and rubbed his palm against your clit, and you writhed beneath him, moaning and gasping. Elijah watched your every expression, pushing you right up to the edge of release and then he pulled away, leaving you glaring up at him in frustration.

"If you behaved tonight, I would let you cum," He cooed, before releasing the tie and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you with amusement.

"Now you will have to wait for my permission," He smirked. "Come and ride your husband's cock."

You glared at him, but obediently did what you were told, you were too pent up to not accept the compromise. You crawled up the bed, and straddled him. Elijah looked up at you with a smile, his dark eyes sparkling, the lines around his eyes deepening. His arms came around you and slid up your back as he kissed you, teasing your mouth with his tongue. You relaxed into him, and returned his passion, but he caught your hands before you could put them to good use. 

"Turn around, my love. I want you to sit on my cock with that pretty ass of yours." He commanded.

You swallowed and nodded. You rotated yourself, placing your knees either side of his thighs, and rose up onto your knees. His large hands went to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, and spreading it wide. You lowered yourself carefully, moaning as his cock eased into your pussy. You sank all the way down, until your thighs were touching his, your soft rear pressed against his body. 

Elijah groaned and his fingers dug in. You placed your hands on his thighs and began to rock your hips, sliding up and down his length, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. His cock filled you up perfectly, and you were soon riding him fast, desperately chasing the orgasm that he had denied you.

He watched the way you bounced, the way your ass cheeks jiggled, the way your wetness coated his cock, the way your body reacted to him. He was hypnotized, his eyes glued to your every movement. It was in these moments he couldn't believe you were actually his wife, that this wasn't a dream. He saw how much you wanted and needed him and it thrilled him beyond words.

It wasn't just the sex. It was the way you'd react to little things. How you would blush at even the smallest gestures, the way you gasped when his fingertips would graze the small of your back as he leaned in close, or the soft little moans you would make when he kissed and touched you, it made his heart ache with love and desire.

You were his drug and he was hopelessly addicted, the chase, the hunt, the thrill was not just pleasurable, it was sustenance. Every time he took you it made him a stronger, more confident, more capable man. And when you would moan his name? He was lost. Utterly lost.

His tie was still hanging off your neck, the fabric moving back and forth against your back with each movement. His fingers danced up your spine and he wrapped the tie around his fist and used it to pull you against his chest.

"Aren't you forgetting something," He grinned, licking the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "Don't I deserve an apology for your behavior from earlier?"

"Not a fucking chance," you hissed, and tried pull away but he pulled tighter and pushed deeper.

"Wrong answer." He chuckled darkly, letting go of the tie and pushing you forward with such force your hands came off his thighs and pressed into the bed, stopping yourself from falling face-first into the sheets. You looked back at him with a glare, but he just laughed and shook his head. His strong hands dug into your hips, and he began to thrust his hips hard, the smacks of his skin against yours echoing in the large bedroom. You reached back, needing to touch him, to get some purchase but he wasn't having it.

He could see that you were panting, trying desperately to stay afloat in the ocean of ecstasy he was drowning you in. But the real reward was listening to the desperate sounds escaping your mouth. You loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you and he decided to take it a step further.

Elijah let go of your hips and you immediately got off his lap and started to climb up the bed to escape but his reflexes were far better than yours. He yanked you back by your thighs and you kicked your legs to get free but that only served to egg him on. 

"I've told you to behave." He warned in a low, seductive voice.

You felt the pull of his tie again, and he yanked you backwards, positioning you so that you were on all fours. You gasped as he pushed your knees together, then he slammed his cock inside you, the angle hitting a spot that made you see stars, his other hand wrapping the tie around his fist. He used the leverage to pound into you, the bed slamming against the wall, and the sounds of his groans making you clench around him.

"Elijah," you moaned his name, your hands fisting the sheets, you were almost there, you were so close to sweet release.

You knew this game very well and you played along perfectly, whimpering and mewling as his cock stroked every inch of you. Your sweet sounds fueling him as he continued to ravage your soft cunt. 

"Such an insufferable tease." He groaned. He let go of the tie and tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing your head down into the mattress.

He was completely lost in the moment, his control completely shattered. Your words, and actions, had snapped the reins, and he was letting himself go, to his deepest, most primal, instincts. He gave your hair a hard tug, the way you liked, and your back arched involuntarily, causing him to pound into you even harder.

"That's right, beautiful wife," he cooed. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, unable to form any words, your brain overwhelmed by the sensations. You could hardly breathe, your mind a clouded mess. He pulled you up, holding you by the jaw and pressing his fingers into your mouth, making you gag.

"Beg me," he snarled. "Beg me to let you cum."

You tried to form the words, but he was holding you so tightly, his cock thrusting into you so roughly, that all you could do was moan. Your eyes rolled back in your head, drool dribbling out of your mouth, the sounds of your garbled speech muffled by his fingers.

"That's it," he whispered, his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

His voice broke through the fog, and the moment his permission was given, you felt your body convulse, the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, sending you into an orgasm that was so powerful it made your limbs go numb. You collapsed forward, but Elijah held you upright. Your muscles had given out, the pleasure was so overwhelming that you couldn't even muster the energy to keep yourself propped up. All you could do was moan softly and let him continue to fuck you senseless.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth and grabbed your hips, pulling them back into his thrusts, using your spent body for his own pleasure. He was close, his movements becoming erratic, his hips snapping, his nails digging into your skin.

He let out a long, low, groan as his cock throbbed, filling you with his warm cum. He thrust a few more times, emptying himself inside you, and then slowly pulled out, letting you fall on to the bed. 

He leaned over you, gently removing the tie and kissing along your spine, his hands softly rubbing the marks he had left on your body.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone soft.

"I'm ok" you sighed. "But my ass is not happy with you."

Elijah chucked and propped your hips up a little, licking a stripe from the cleft of your ass, all the way up to the back of your neck. You shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin, you felt his hands on your hips and he quickly turned you over, making you squeak in surprise.

He kissed his way down your body, stopping to worship each of your breasts, and then moving down to your pussy. He spread your legs and ran his tongue over your slit, collecting his own cum that had begun to trickle out of you.

"Eli," you whined.

He hummed in response, and his tongue pushed deeper, lapping at your cunt, swirling around your sensitive clit. He was being gentle, his tongue teasing, his fingers rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hips.

You were perfect, his angel, his darling, his beautiful wife, and he had been so rough with you, he couldn't help but try and make up for it. He knew that you could take him, that you loved the rough sex as much as he did, but still, he always felt bad afterwards.

He could never stay rough for too long and tended to give into your soft whining, caresses and sweet kisses. It was why you were his wife, no one had the sort of power over him the way you did, and you both knew it. And there was truly nowhere else he would rather be, then between your legs.

He loved the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair, the way your thighs shook around his head, the way you clenched around his tongue, the sounds of your soft moans and whimpers. It was music to his ears, and he couldn't get enough of it.

"We taste like a dream," he murmured, licking his lips.

You chuckled, and then gasped when his tongue flicked over your clit, making your legs spasm.

"So sensitive," he purred, and then sucked the little bud between his lips, his fingers digging into your skin.

He could feel the pull of your hand, and he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, the pupils blown wide. He crawled over your body, and lowered his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.

You moaned softly, tasting the two of you together, and he groaned in response, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling at the strands.

"That's what we taste like, baby," he growled, his tongue plunging into your mouth. His lips wet and messy, his hands roaming over your body, his hips grinding against yours.

"It's so good, isn't it?"

"Yes," you gasped.

"I love it when you're covered in my cum," he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. "When your pretty little pussy is full of me, when I can smell myself all over you."

You bit your bottom lip, and let your eyes slide closed, taking in the scent of his skin, the feel of his lips, the way he was rocking against you. He was teasing you, and you wanted it, you wanted his cock to stretch and fill you again and again until you were delirious with pleasure. You'd never known someone who could turn you into this wreck so completely and efficiently, but here you were again.

"Stop talking," you whimpered, grabbing hold of his hair.

"Sorry baby." He mumbled against your throat, leaving open mouth kisses along your skin. "Are you ready for me to fuck you again, my gorgeous wife."

"Yes, fuck yes.." You moaned as you lifted your hips and wrapped your legs around him. He slowly pushed his cock back into your pussy, watching as you arched and moaned under him.

"Do you think I can fuck you till dawn?" He purred, pressing soft kisses against your neck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby, to be filled up all night?"

You hummed in response and he slowed down a bit, giving you deep, long slow strokes, taking his time, and enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He loved watching you come undone, to hear the moans and whimpers of delight fall from your lips, to know that it was because of him and only him.

This time he would make love to his wife, for however long she wanted, until morning if necessary. Because how could he not? When every look, every breath and every sound was the manifestation of a desperate plea, how was a husband to deny such a desire from a woman as beautiful, as delicate and yet as stubborn and as irresistible as you.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

[etheries1015]

Obey me x twisted wonderland crossover where MC goes to twisted wonderland from obey me but has their full range of magical powers

Only problem is, they can't really use it.

How would MC feel, hearing over and over about their useless state, when they are infact a rather powerful sorcerer?

pt 2 as requested: Here

Magic in twisted wonderland is managed and flows through mage stones, whilst in obey me magic is by a persons inner nature, and seems to be contained/managed via a wand of some sort (until you become mastered at it, like solomon, who still uses a wand!) Of course there are sigils and and other mediums to be used, however for this scenario, they are dulled thoroughly due to the 1) cut off between worlds and 2) The inability to adapt to a different worlds principles of magic.

Blot just isn't a thing in obey me, MC obviously doesn't have the ability to accumulate blot, so their type of magic is just incompatable with twisted wonderland. So imagine how goddamn frustrating it is when everyone likes to remind MC how magicless they are? And they really don't believe you when you tell them you're actually the apprentice of the most powerful sorcerer in humanity, and can control 7 of the most dangerous demons from your world.

"MC has about as much magical talent as a box of crayons," Ace snorts. He wouldn't be saying that if you just had the power to curse his mouth shut.

"You have no real merits to offer me, not to mention you cannot even use magic," Azul pointed out. If only you could summon leviathan and have him send lotan octavinelles way. They would be sobbing at your feet begging for forgiveness!

And Vil. "You're just about as polished as a sack of half priced potatos!" ...If Asmodeus were there to hear that comment. Vil would get a very analytical lecture about every tiny flaw and detail in his life. Vil would be shattered by the end of it, his pride and what he thought was beauty down the drain.

Crowley laughing at you to your face when you tried to tell him about devildom and where you wish to return. You? A magicless human? Hilarious. Crowley has been through his fair share of "demons" and dark magic, and he definitely did not believe you fit a "summoner of terrifying beings" vibe. If only Satan was there, then Crowley would really understand what it was like to fear something, and regret poking fun at you and taking your concerns so lightly. "If you had the ability to summon powerful demons , how come you are still here?" He mocked you. Of course you had tried, however with the problem being the connection between two completely separate dimensions causing a drift in your attempts to summon any of the brothers, It was nearly impossible. Sigils just did not carry the same amount of magic in twisted wonderland as it did back home.

It wasn't until you held one of the wishing stars (from the "make a wish" event) that anybody began to believe...no, consider your "ridiculous" stories. You held the star to your chest and made your wish of wanting to return home, to which it glowed so bright and cracked. Everyone stared at you as your star shattered, only someone with high concentrations of magic could cause something like this to happen. Since it wasn't powered via mage stone or the need of blot accumulation, your natural traces magic had managed to break the wishing star. Something only someone with a huge pool of magical ability could accomplish, if even.

"I have been trying to tell you guys" you growled, picking up the shattered pieces. Getting over the initial shock of the entire situation, they quickly dismissed it as a faulty star and writing off the strange phenomenon. There is just no way someone such as yourself could possibly hold such great traces of magic that you actually shattered the star, right? They all looked down at you, saw you so much differently, and treated you as such. You didnt belong at that school, and they made it clear. Well.... No matter.

Wait until they realize you finally had managed to successfully contact Lucifer, and they were actively working on your safe return.

And wait until they feel his power when he hears how poorly his little sheep had been treated.

~~~~~

Check out my masterlist for more of my works~

[falciesystemessays]

so mark brown, host of the game analysis youtube channel Game Maker's Toolkit, has released his first game, Mind Over Magnet, just about a month ago. in his recent postmortem video of the thing, he says that the common sentiment from reviewers is that it's a solid 8/10. a very polished but very uninspired puzzle platformer, with good design fundamentals but without The Sauce that makes it something special.

and like, even as a genuine fan of game maker's toolkit, who uses its videos on game design as comfort media, it's hard not to be a cynic about it. hard not to say "this is the kind of game that the gmtk approach produces." a game that's good, but not great. a game that entertains for an afternoon, but doesn't change your life. a work of craftsmanship, but not of art.

but i know this isn't fair. most video games are, in fact, like that. not every puzzle platformer can be an INSIDE or Braid. 90% of everything is crap, and mind over magnet is, for all its flaws, a video game that actually released and was pretty alright. that's more than a lot of us can say. and maybe those reviewers aren't seeing the best of the game, i haven't played it yet so i couldn't say if they're really onto something. mark's devlogs are still super inspiring and insightful, and i still like gmtk a lot.

but i think... this is the only way this story could have ended. three years spent developing a game that is simply pretty good. one that probably would have flopped if it wasn't mark fucking brown posting it. not because the game is necessarily bad, but because there's simply nothing special to it that really gives it the pull. that's just how it goes sometimes, you put your mind, body, and soul into developing a game, and it doesn't set the world on fire. most games don't.

when he said at the end "i don't know if i would ever want to do this again, but if mind over magnet is the only game i put into the world, i'm happy with that," that was the realest shit in that entire series. game design full-time isn't for everyone. i don't even really know if it's for me, i definitely couldn't work in The Industry full-time. being a gamedev is a really compelling thing for a lot of people who've loved games their whole life and want to be part of that. but it's not easy, it never is, and it's not for everyone. even the people who obsess over game design. that's not to say you shouldn't try if you really want to, but that the process of making the games you love will probably be a lot more involved than you could ever dream of. if you want hard proof of that, uh, Check Out Developing.

[genericpuff]

no stop this article is too funny

this is from 2020 and while it talks about webtoons in general as a platform and medium, there's an excerpt from Rachel that's ironically and hilariously telling on herself when it comes to her priorities as a creator and how her work has aged incredibly poorly in the past 4 years:

She may as well just be saying, "I like Webtoon because they don't have any quality control" and "the trad publishing market had standards that I couldn't live up to, so instead of actually trying to live up to them, I went with a platform that has zero standards and was willing to make me into the standard regardless of my own qualifications and lack thereof."

Like y'all, take this as advice from someone who's had their fair share of rejection letters... the print industry dumping your unsolicited portfolio in the bin isn't gatekeeping, it's the nature of the business. The way Rachel describes it here - albeit I'm sure it's simplified for the sake of being an interview answer, but still - makes it sound like she was just expecting to walk right into the trad publishing market without an agent, without a completed manuscript or pitch, without any professional representation, and just slam her portfolio of mid-2000's art on the desk expecting them to hire her on the spot.

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of barriers that prevent people from getting into the trad market, hurdles that can often be outright unfair (lacking the funds, lacking the connections, etc.) but... there's also a reason many of those barriers are there in practice.

First of all, fun fact: the reason why many publishers don't take unsolicited manuscripts isn't just to help them filter out the spam and low-effort submissions and prevent an overload of submissions (because if they took submissions from anyone and everyone, the overviewing system would break entirely), but it's also for legal purposes so that they don't get sued. Because if Joe Chucklefuck sends in an unsolicited manuscript that just so happens to include a plot point about the multiverse, and then a new book series or movie comes out that is about the multiverse, Joe Chucklefuck might get the sense they're being stolen from and attempt to sue them for plagiarism. This is why it's stressed so much by publishers that any unsolicited manuscripts will not just go unread, but will be thrown straight into the bin.

But second, many publishers simply don't want to take the financial risks on random start-up creators whose only experience is running their own personal projects on Tumblr, much less personal projects like Rachel's, half of which are fetish-content and all of which are unfinished. Of course they weren't gonna take Rachel seriously back then, she hadn't done anything to build up her presence in the industry.

In that sense, yes, self-publishing or pursuing a platform gig like Webtoons probably was Rachel's next best option which would be perfectly acceptable on its own, but it's just so, so telling that she thinks it's a "perk" for Webtoons to lack so much in the way of quality control, and we would ironically see the glaring evidence of that "perk" 3-4 years later in LO's final season when every single element of it as a "professional" piece of work turned to shit. It's no wonder she liked Webtoons in 2020 for letting her do anything she wanted, because what she wanted absolutely would not fly with an actual editor and publishing agency that cared about putting out a polished piece of work. The only way she was able to get "in" with a professional publisher was through Del Rey after Webtoons brokered a deal for her to have LO put into print, and even that level of prestige can't hide the fact that LO sucks ass in print. It's almost like under normal circumstances and without Webtoons carrying her on their shoulders above every other creator on the platform - many of whom actually do have experience in both tradpub and self-publishing - Del Rey wouldn't have paid her any attention. Without Webtoons, no one would take her seriously because she doesn't take what she does seriously, and it shows in her priorities as a creator who simply wants to just do whatever she wants without any sort of reasonable oversight like research or editing which are, again, necessary expectations within the tradpub industry, because it's not just about being a free-thinking self-expressive artist anymore in that industry - it's a business.

Of course, Rachel is probably now laughing from her soapbox over the fact that she now technically helps run an imprint, so haha "poo on the meanie trad market", but considering that imprint has still not launched and has been put on the same "coming soon" track that the LO television show has been on for the past 4+ years on a loop, I'm not holding my breath that it's actually going to amount to anything substantial.

(gotta love how they asked if Rachel was gonna create any more stories and her answer was RSP, which will help other creators bring their stories to life. so at best she didn't answer the question which is nothing new for her, at worst she gave away the fact that she's gonna be acting as some kind of producer who will be given all the credit and praise for other creator's works and efforts lmao no thankssss)

And god knows what the quality control of this imprint is gonna be like if Rachel's attitude toward the trad market overall is, "Nooo they won't let me do what I wantttt :((((" when she admittedly never even broke into the trad market to begin with and had zero experience working within that industry prior to LO.

And even then, Webtoons still doesn't give her as much freedom of choice as she claims to have. I mean ffs, this is the same person whose moderators stated that the Swarovski crystal dress from the finale was done as a "fuck you" to Webtoons for not letting her draw Persephone nude all the time.

She's obviously still being prevented from doing what she wants to do, when a lot of what she wants to do is better off not passing the vibe check and making it into the comic.

Quality control exists for a reason, Rachel. And "letting you do what you want" isn't necessarily a "flex" that Webtoons can claim over trad publishing when that "flex" is forgoing the traditional barriers that would usually prevent someone like you from failing upwards into manufactured fame the way that you have.

And that's my big bag of cents on that.

[signedeclipse]

r u taking requests 🥲? if u are can I ask for headcannons on muichiro, obanai, giyuu and shinobu x reader on what they would do if the reader is really tired and a huge sleepy head in general it would be so cute <333

Giyuu | Muichiro | Obanai | Shinobu [X Reader]

In which their s/o is always exhausted and has a hard time staying awake.

Giyuu

He himself was never a very high energy or high demand individual

But next to you, he looked like a kid during their first sugar rush

You were always either leaning him or tucked away on the most comfortable surface nearby, dozing off

No, you weren't apart of the corps, so he didn't have any reason to force you up

You had your own job and you did it when you had to, and when he was away he would always come back to a clean house with all the chores done, along with you napping in bed

To be fair, Giyuu just assumes this is normal

I mean, he would do the same if he could, but he had a lot of duties and training to tend to

He loves cuddling up with you though, you keep the bed nice and warm for him

Muichiro

Muichiro isn't really sleepy, but he does gaze off extremely often

You are both totally lost together, because he just found out the wind makes noise and you were half asleep on the floor

If you were in the corps, you'd never be sent on missions together because somehow together the effects are worse on one another

You do get your missions done when together, it just means less details are remembered and those can be extremely vital

When home, Muichiro makes you lay your head in his lap wherever he goes- usually outside- while he stares at something of interest and just thinks

One thing he does often is speak his thoughts out loud around you, because he knows you won't take it too seriously or make fun of the nonsensical things he comes up with

Sometimes he just stares at you, and wonders what you're dreaming about

When you wake up he tries to guess, he is only getting more accurate!

Obanai

It's not that he is very energetic, but Obanai likes to do small, menial tasks to keep himself occupied

It might be tending to Kaburamaru, small exercises, or renewing his bandages

He refuses to sit down, and even if he does, he will be working on polishing his blade, or eating a meal

For this, he makes you move a lot to wherever he is if he is home

Sleeping is something you do a lot, he knows you're always tired if you don't, so he doesn't want to force you awake or make you feel bad for it

Instead he just wants you to follow him when he moved to another area, and you can sleep there until he moves on again

It keeps you somewhat active, but also brings him comfort in knowing you'll still be there, even if silent and often unmoving

Shinobu

You were very comfortable to be around considering you were mostly silent or spoke in a melancholic tone

Since she was always studying or tending to others, it helped her plenty having someone like that around

Someone who would watch over her and encourage her to be productive while not distracting her from her work too much

But as a doctor, she also understood that if you stayed still in the comfort of the mansion too often, you might become deficient in important vitamins

" You have to go outside once a day, dear! It's not good for you to stay like this all day! "

She says it like it's fact, and she's probably right

So long as you go out once a day for a small walk she is happy

Set up a hammock on the porch of the butterfly mansion where you can sleep in the sun rays, so you get all the vitamins you need even while asleep

If she has a young slayer alone in any of the healing wards, she will ask you to sleep there so they feel better with company

Even if you are tired, she knows you'll get up to help someone who might need something or is becoming ill

Authors Note - Me too reader I love sleepin,,, I hope I was able to right up to your wishes, and thank you so much for requesting! This was pretty much all my most favourite hashira lol

[bitchimasnake-sss]

unwinding after a long day ft. luffy!

in which, after a long day, he comes right back to you <3

ft. luffy x fem!reader

set-up: its been a tiring day for him, good thing you're right here to offer your services (wink wink)

warnings: both sfw/nsfw headcanons for this dumbass; nsfw stuff includes penetration, cockwarming, raw!fucking (kids use protection pls 👍)

luffy:

sfw!!

- after a long, long day of eating, running around the deck with ussop, defeating like five sea kings, enduring 53628 kicks and punches from the crew (how is this man a captain is beyond me sometimes), luffy is bound to be tired - you're laying on your bed post-dinner, absent-mindedly chipping away the nail polish - you feel the mattress next to you dip lowly as he jumps next to you, face-first - "ynn-" he's whining, wrapping his hands around you and intertwining his legs between yours, "ynnnnnn" "hmm?" you hum, still busy picking apart the colour on your nails "i'm so, so soooo tired" a laugh escapes you, "really? is it due to all the running?" and now he's pouting, "are you saying it's my own fault?" - you peck his cheek, then flash him a grin, "how can i ever say that?" - most of the nights, you silence him by giving him a massage - you don't even think you're good at it but holy shit this boy is obsessed with getting a quick massage from you. - and this has led to quite the number of misunderstandings. "yn," he had asked you when the crew were eating dinner together, "can we do that thing at night? i really need it." "WHAT THE FUCK-" nami is punching luffy in his guts, his food is being thrown out of his mouth and onto zoro, "WE ARE EATING." - he meant massage. - you knew it, he knew it. the rest of the crew? they assumed you were fucking (they aren't wrong, per se. they just didn't want to believe that all the sounds of bed creaking wasn't from you both jumping around, rip them) - yeah ussop threw up and sanji fell to his knees and cried for like 57 mins because how did luffy manage to bag you??? - zoro hasn't spoken in two days from the shock of it (and the traumatic experience of having food spit on him) and nami has retired to her room for a whole business week, she is now only conversing by using chopper as her message carrier - chopper is confused (poor bby 😭😭, he assumed it was massage or something and he is the only one who's correct) - anyways, other than getting massages, sometimes he starts rambling on about something or the other till he falls asleep mid-conversation - rest assured because he will continue whenever he wakes up "where was i?" he's shaking you awake "luffy" you groan, "it's like two am, go to sleep" "oh right, so ussop told chopper than reindeers are called reigndeers because they used to be actual kings back in the ancient times and so rein means reign and not rain like most people as-" he falls asleep again mid conversation - tf are you supposed to do with this man?? - peak, sheer dumbassery even when he's tired

nsfw!!

- this man refuses to entertain one-sided favours - your soft hands were kneading away the tension on his biceps a few minutes ago, so obviously he should return the favour back by massaging your back - you refuse many times because as much as you love luffy, this man does not understand his own strength - so you have a very valid fear that he would break your spine as he gives you a massage - "this isn't fair, let me do it too ughh" "how about no" "okay then let me fuck you, you'd like that right?" - didn't even blink twice plz 😭😭 - this dude is dead serious. - he gotta make up to you for being such a sweetheart to him one way or the other - that explains how he was pulling your top off, sucking sweetly on your tits, fingers gently rubbing over your clothed pussy - that also explained how he pulled you onto his lap, slipping in his dick inside you, stretching you out with a loud moan "you always take it so well, don'tcha?" he grins at you, tipping your head upwards and kissing you - refuses to move tho. - basically baited you into cockwarming him - what a royal asshole. - "what is it?" he coos when he feels your walls clamp down on him, your fingers desperately toying with your clit to get some sort of relief "pl- pleasefuckme-" there's tears clinging onto your lashline, your lips are red from how long you've been biting and chewing on them "hm?" he grins at your state, "what was that you said?" "please-" your breath hitches as he thrusts into you suddenly "fuck you?" "go- god. fuck, yes" his thrusts are merciless, pounding into you at a speed that has your overstimulated cunt spasming in seconds - doesn't let you go till he feels like he's paid you back enough "that was fun" he nuzzles into your neck, breathing slowly "mhm" you feel yourself dozing off he lays you down before snuggling into you and falling asleep - will end up giving you a massage in the morning anyways - although he can be just a little bit of a dick sometimes, there's no one you would rather unwind with

bonus!!

- ussop (while crying) had to relocate from his cabin to sanji's because the walls are really not that thick and he was next door - "i can hear them-" ussop sniffled, standing at sanji's doorstep, "omg i can hear luffy-" "ussop, you have to learn to face the horrors of the world." sanji spoke firmly, although his expression betrayed the confidence in his voice - actually they both just cried and ate the secret stash of ice-cream sanji had saved up - you and luffy need to pay for their therapy now im afraid 😃

zoro's part <3 sanji's part <3

[ninibeingdelulu]

First date ft. cloud strife, megumi fushiguro, zack fair, itadori yuji

cloud, megumi

The poor guy spent all week agonizing over snagging dinner reservations somewhere swanky yet lowkey - eventually settling on that new fusion bistro downtown. Nice and casual, but not so formal it'd cramp his style.

So after triple-checking the address, he showed up fashionably punctual as always.

Hands stuffed deep in those baggy pockets while casually scanning the entrance with those vivid eyes until spotting you. A brief nod acknowledged your presence before brushing past to seat himself without much fanfare.

Not that he had some grand plan for breaking the ice, mind you.

Those luminous aquamarines just averted every few seconds while absently stirring his water, occasionally clearing his throat but never quite speaking up.

Fortunately, the food arrived before too much agonizing quiet set in. And let's be real - seeing that mountain of gourmet comfort grub loosened him up fast.

He dug in with single-minded focus and low, appreciative grunts - only belatedly remembering to look up every so often with those rosy cheeks puffed full.

"...whazzit? Oh, uh...yeah, it’s good..." muffled chewing "...you like it?"

Don't let those painfully awkward silences fool you, though.

Once the plates cleared, he subtly checked you out from beneath those feathery bangs, trying his damnedest not to gawk too openly whenever a tidbit struck his fancy.

Catching your curious gaze, cheeks flared crimson before he sharply inhaled through his nostrils with an aloof shrug. "...wasn't starin' or nothin'. Just, uh...lookin' good t'night. Yeah."

And despite his dude-bro slouch and restless fidgeting, he didn't fight too hard when your fingertips met across the table's polished surface.

Just peered down with muted wonder until threading your digits through his rough, calloused grip - content letting that charged silence stretch on.

Leaving you pleasantly surprised when, while ambling back beneath the city nightscape, he impulsively tugged your joined hands until you stumbled closer.

Pale arms snaked around your waist without ceremony, anchoring you flush against his muscular warmth as the softest sigh wisped over your lips.

Indulging one infinitesimal brush of those satin pouts before hastily pulling back - eyes blown wide behind all those messy spikes.

He swallowed thickly with a bashful half-smirk, squeezing tighter around your trim waist just once before reluctantly loosening with a mumble.

"...we, uh...should do this again sometime, y'know?”

zack, itadori

Why do you think he picked that 24-hour roadside diner right off the highway exit for your first big date night, huh?

Because that's just the kinda fun, spontaneous guy he is - never putting too much arbitrary stock into overthinking formalities!

Decked out in civvies for a delicious change, the second you arrived his wolfish grin outright blinded under the neon diner signage.

Shooting up from that well-worn booth to eagerly sweep you off your feet into a crushing bear hug.

"There she is! Man, I knew you'd be gorgeous as always." Tucking a loose tendril behind your ear, he drank in your outfit appreciation shining from those smoldering indigos. "Course, that's just your natural state, isn't it?"

Forget maintaining any semblance of personal space from there on out. Once seated, he whipped out all the classic courtship cliches - laying on corny compliments, playfully nudging your feet with his under the table, not so subtly staring whenever you gestured or spoke.

Just an endless, charming flurry of earnest romantic gusto without restraint or inhibition whatsoever.

That boyish eagerness and gushing enthusiasm only doubled down once the food arrived, too.

His borderline bouncing in his seat, fork chittering across ceramic because he couldn't stop sneaking awestruck peeks through those crazy spikes every bite.

"So what'd'ya think? Is this place insane awesome or what??" he babbled through mouthfuls of burger and steak fries that definitely didn't slow his motor-mouth an iota.

"The shakes are outta this world! Hold up, I'll grab one fo-"

Without warning, he leaned over and smeared a smudge of ketchup off the corner of your mouth - only to pointedly lick his thumb with a wicked twinkle of those violets.

Heartbeat skipping several cycles as your breath noticeably caught.

However, once the flirtatious tension reached an event horizon, he predictably ended up squirming and giggling like a bashful kid despite initiating.

Reacting to your slightest lingering touch or coy half-lidded gaze with this hilariously flushed squirm.

"Sheesh...talk about a total smoke-show tonight. Ain't fair at all!" he accused through a goofy, dimpled grin.

Bouncing up from his seat only to gallantly extend his palm in invite after settling the check independently.

"Alright, whaddya say we blow this popsicle stand? I know this lit trail where we can really just slow things down and...y'know... be for a while."

One tug brought you flush against his muscular figure leaving no illusions of intent behind that suggestive purr.

He seized your chin with a gentleness that contradicted that hooded, midnight stare searing into you.

Until finally leaning down and capturing your lips in a slow, passionate waltz of restrained longing temporarily sating you both.

[theroundbartable]

Arthur has been hexed. Again. It's not an evil one and technically, it doesn't hurt him in any way. It's just -

"im bloody red, Merlin!"

Merlin turns page after page. "Apparently that just signals that you're in love. It doesn't say with who, it's just... Apparently you're head over heels."

Arthur: that's stupid. I'm not in love. Show me the page.

So Merlin does and Arthur eventually has to relent. "What's even the purpose of this?"

Merlin shrugs. "Seems like a cruel joke to me. It only goes away in 25 hours."

"25? That's an odd number. Whatever." Arthur sighs. "I have no idea who this is supposed to be about. I mean... Shouldn't I want someone for this to make sense?"

Merlin shrugs again. "Hell if I know. But there must be someone you like. Why not just... i dunno, ask them out and figure it out. Perhaps it's not even meant romantically. I mean, sometimes the cook leaves me extra blueberries. I could swear I fall in love with her every time. And she's 64."

Arthur nods. "Hmm. Maybe. Well, I mean, the closest person to me is you. Maybe that's who they mean? I mean, you're an idiot. But you say wise things sometimes."

Merlin: me? That's hella weird. We already spend 99% of our time together. Why would you want to be with me?

Arthur: i don't. That's the point.

Merlin: hmm. You know what? It wouldn't even change anything. We could like... start dating. If it's annoying we just go back to normal. If it isn't, then we get some experience for dating life. I think that's kind of benefitial, don't you think?

Arthur: you're only say that because you can have more blueberries if you are my consort.

Merlin: yes. And you can't force me to polish your armor anymore. Or put me in the stocks for insulting you

Arthur: I don't see what's in it for me, then.

Merlin: hmm..... I would let you sleep in, in the morning.

Arthur: no, you wouldn't.

Merlin: ... Ok fair

Arthur: but you'd have to consult me before you do your self sacrificial bullshit again. And you'd be easier protected when we're attacked... Maybe it's not such a bad idea

Merlin: see? I'm a genius.

Arthur: do we have to make out?

Merlin: no, but i'm not against it. Are you?

Arthur: hmm.... No. Not really. So, it's a deal then?

Merlin: yeah, sure. Sounds fun

.....

5 years later

Arthur: I think we should get married

Merlin: hmm... Why?

Arthur: tax evasion

Merlin: ....

Merlin: we don't even pay taxes

[ghostlytide]

For Business Only | One

I hope you like it ^^

Vincent Renzi x Fem! Reader----1.6K

MASTERLIST -> Next

Synopsis:

After the whirlwind affair Vincent and you shared years ago, he was sure his goodbye was definitive. A fleeting memory filled with both regret and a peculiar ache that he can’t quite place. But life wishes to scorn him once again when his newest case obliges him to seek out your help. Though this case isn’t the only complicated thing in this strictly professional relationship—not with the way his heart seems to jump at your proximity, or the already familiar tune of your voice. For all the things that had changed, would this mean your story could have a different ending now?

General Tags: Second Chance/Exes to Lovers; Slow Burn; |They were Coworkers; Denial of Feelings; Pining & Longing; Idiots in Love; Eventual Friends (?) with Benefits (?); English isn't my first language so watch out for typos;

It was a late spring night when Vincent said his goodbye to you, so it was only fair that your reencounter would occur in another.

Life played both hommage and karma at him, remembering his words: You may forever hate me, but I promise you that you'll never see me ever again. I've bothered you enough.

That night, he had regained the common sense that had slipped out his grasp since you entered the law firm as an intern; eager to learn from whoever would spare you a glance for something more than to request their thousandth cup of coffee.

Of course, he did.

And how could he not to? When you were so bright and cheerful, all the opposite from those seniors who had seen the worst, to experience who knows how many times the balanced and blind justice's weight to tip at the wrong side. To have to face the client's hopeless expression.

Of course, you'd probably be sheltered from such a dark world at your station once you reached juniorship. But that wasn't the point right now.

Just as it wasn't the point to reminisce. He felt as ashamed as it could be possible while climbing the stairs of the skyscraper, which on the inside was decorated with pieces of steel, glass, and contemporary art that combined perfectly against the simple columns and the frescoes painted in the dome of the main hall.

Vincent shouldn't be overwhelmed by the sight, but he'd never been inside the Building of the Société Générale, white marble walls against a dark mosaic creating a cube to showcase the colorful paintings hung on the walls.

The secretary at the front desk showed him the way to the elevator behind the reception, polished black walls against the metal door as Vincent felt a pull in the pit of his stomach—either for the sudden upward movement or for nervousness, he didn't wish to dwell much on it.

Walking much faster than he wanted to, the secretary passed through an empty, quiet hallway in which Vincent could read a myriad of plaques varying from Accounting Department, all the way to Human Resources.

Finally, she stopped at a door labeled as Banking Associate: Cultural Department. Calling your name, she said: "Monsieur Favrè has sent his lawyer impromptu to meet you."

A muffled voice—your muffled voice echoed in the still hallway, stirring old memories inside of him he wasn't aware of keeping in the first place. "Alright. Let him come in."

A simple nod and the woman was gone. It was only the two of you now.

He took his time, a skipping beat. At the same time, you finished writing away at your keyboard. Then the door was closed with a gentle click.

"Monsieur Delaroux, what can I do for y—" A tentative pause, your bright, smart eyes locked into his. "Vincent?"

This hadn't been the deal planned out in his mind; he was almost hoping you'd ask, with a puzzled voice, who he was as if memory could morph at will rather than being one's source of torture.

So many years passed since he heard his name coming out of your soft lips, that if he remembered quite well, would taste like mocca and vanilla. But why was he remembering that now, from all times?

"Hello," he said, an awkward smile shining in the well-lit office. He put one of his hands inside the pocket of his dress pants, suppressing the childish urge to wave.

You blinked. "What… what are you doing here?"

"I know this isn't what we agreed on," he started, using small steps to get closer to the desk, as if you were a deer likely to run off, or a lion ready to pounce. Vincent had no idea which of the two could be worse. "But I need your assistance for a case. You're the most capable person I can think of, so I had to come and ask for your help."

Reclining from your seat, he let the words simmer into you, using the little time he had to look around your office, part of him was curious to see if he could still recognize a glimpse of the old you, and what he could learn from the present.

"How did you find me?" you asked, hands gesturing from him to sit in front of your desk.

"There are not many art lawyers with your name," he said, slightly flustered he had to admit about searching your name among colleagues, prying into your life when his promise was all the contrary. It wasn't the first time he felt like a fool, yet prideful because he was here for work.

And solely for work.

"I have a case linked with a small private art collection." His voice was plain, devoid of any emotion. He wasn't Vincent right now, the man that tried not to break your heart but failed terribly; he was Maître Renzi one of the talented lawyers from the before small law firm that now was rising like smoke after every case taken. "A murder. Probably linked to the growing art stock. I need an expert in the subject to conduct the required procedures."

"Since when do you take cases about private art collectors?" you hummed, eyes almost twinkling with amusement from all those times he had shit on the upper class and their slippery ways around the judicial system.

It was a good sign that you weren't bringing up his words last spoken, the past that at this moment felt too much aflush despite the time trying to bury it.

"This one is an exception." He couldn't help but get defensive, feeling like a stupid teenage boy being teased despite you being quite some years younger than him. "The owner of the law firm assigned me this case directly. We need to win so the firm can have an expansion." Which meant more law specialties, and more hired lawyers. And then it was… "They're even considering putting an Art Law department."

You could join, he almost said foolishly. Why would you like to be coworkers with him again, when that exact professional relationship prompted all the rest?

You seemed to be thinking the same. "It'll pay well," he added before you could say anything that derailed from his sketched conversation. "And it can help with your curriculum." Vincent signaled to the plaque in front of your computer, reading Junior Consultant. "It could be the case that turns you into a Senior."

There it was the ghost of you, biting your bottom lip in a pondering manner while your gaze was glued to the empty seat next to him.

"What makes you think you're going to win?"

"Have some faith in me, will you?" He chuckled, though deep inside he knew what you meant. It was a question that always lingered at the bottom of his mind, the one that stole his sleep some nights.

"Vincent—"

"Trust me. This is a high-profile case, very important for all people involved. I need your help. I know you're the only person that can help me." He couldn't make another empty promise. To never see you again? Vincent just broke it, and the opposite of that, to be partnered with you as colleagues didn't sound appropriate either. "You're the only one I can trust to remain on my side even if everything goes to shit," Vincent muttered after a while, blue eyes searching for yours as he tried to convince you with pity, even. Because you could never say no to him, and because this case was obliged to use all the desperate, creative measures he could think of.

Though Vincent wasn't lying about said statement. And you knew it.

You looked at him in a long, silent gaze that felt strangely, annoyingly charged inside the medium-sized office, silent so thick he heard the moment you chortled, a breathy, contained laugh that blessed him with the tiniest of smiles.

"Send me the generalities of the case so I can give it a glance tomorrow and write the protocol to follow."

"If tomorrow is one of your free days, we can discuss it over lunch," Vincent found himself saying before his brain could tell him to do better. "I'll give you a printed copy of everything so you can revise it easier. I apologize, but due to the nature of this case, I don't find myself comfortable with sharing this information via remote."

You put away the pencil you were playing with, settling it against the wooden desk with a thunk. "Breakfast. Tomorrow at 9 AM meet me at the Fontaine Saint-Sulpice. We can go to a nearby café once there." Looking from your computer to him, you arched an eyebrow. "Something else you need? You should go before the receptionist notices that you aren't Monsieur Favrè's lawyer."

He shrugged. "I showed her my card, she didn't say anything."

"Well, I'm not allowed to take private clients while on my shift."

"I'm not a client, we're colleagues."

You gestured away. "Wording. You know what I mean."

"You're a lawyer, Mademoiselle, wording matters."

"I write contracts and track art exhibits, Vincent," you told him in a familiar tone he recognized from when you two engaged in a well-needed, unwinding banter. "The one asked to give speeches is you, not me."

"Well, then you better prepare for an exception, because you will have to declare at court about your findings." Vincent heard your sigh and took in the sight of your angry pout, one you dedicated at him when it was time to get out of his office and help other junior lawyers while on your time as an intern. He was surprised to find it as charming as it once was. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He stood up, torn between walking facing you or just striding toward the door. He did the last one, turning to smile at you while his hand tapped to feel the door's handle.

It was his time to call your name. "Thank you. Truly."

You nodded, one of the locks of your hair falling toward your brow, obscuring your view. "I'll see you tomorrow, Vincent."

[alevicke]

Hii!! I saw requests were open!! I was wondering, if you write for trickster, could you write some headcanons of trickster with a survivor s/o who’s very clingy and cuddly and wants constant cuddles from him? Like she’d even go up to him during a trial and beg him to cuddle with her.

Hi! Thank you for requesting, it's actually the first time in my life someone requests something ^^ i hope you don't mind that I added The Huntress and The Spirit as well because I'm weak for them 💖 I'll use gn reader! Hope you like it 💖

Killer x clingy!reader

Characters: Trickster, The Huntress and The Spirit

No TWs! Or if you think something should be mentioned let me know. Also sorry for the mistakes, English isn't my native language and I have no one to proof read this D:

Trickster:

For this man it really depends how much you know each other or if you're already together (just as with anyone else in reality)

To be fair, he's famous and handsome. He knows already people want to cuddle him, he's well used to crazy fan girls who could do ANYTHING to even get close to him. Cuddling is a FANTASY for them.

But so is for you. Although you see more than the others. When the others think about Trickster they think about the softness of his skin, the sweet voice whispering in their ears, the fingers along their skin... But that's about it, they only see a pretty face to cling onto, a trophy and Trickster knows that

But he always felt something different from you

You didn't look at him like a crazy fangirl who would rip his fingers just to have something from him closer. You were seeing more from him

At first, he would shrug, laugh at you and keep you away using his bat like a long twig to keep the distance. No touchy for people he doesn't know. You could have your fingers dirty with oil from the generators and ruin his amazing skin routine that takes so much time to do

You get closer to him to hug him in a trial? Oh heck no (not yet)

But as time passes and you keep wanting to stay by his side even when he doesn't allow you to touch him, he starts to slowly allow you closer. It's not like suddenly, one day, he will let you hug him, but will slowly allow you to sit closer, some days he will let you grab his hand so you can see his new nail polish, to see his make up that turned amazing today...

And day by day you realize he's way more comfortable around you until he finally wraps his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle in his chest.

He's warm and sweet once he finally trusts you, he's careful not to mess with your hair and he touches you so gently as if he was scared he could break you

He will start allowing you to hug him, he doesn't mind you doing it if it's not getting in the middle of his routines or similar or if it's a situation when no one can be in danger. He would never forgive himself if you get hurt trying to hug him in a trial or similar so he sets that strict rule. But once everyone is dead in the trial? You're more than welcome between his arms. He's just scared of hurting you. He truly wants to hug you in the trial but it's impossible to do it without it being dangerous for both of you.

Although, he often allows you to be the last survivor so you both can cuddle while he finishes off one of your team mates down

When you hug him he specially loves having your hair closer to him. No matter if it's curly, straight, short, long, blonde, brunettte, black or dyed, he likes your hair a lot and the sweet smell of it.

It's not unusual for him to fall asleep cuddling with you once you both are used to this. He likes to be the big spoon but doesn't mind being the small one every now and then

It takes him more time for him to allow you to pet his hair though. He's still over protective of his hairstyle

THE HUNTRESS:

She's so confused the first time you try to hug her. It doesn't happen out of the blue or else she would completely kill you for touching her when she didn't want to and could only see you as a survivor, but it's still strange

She had a really hard trial. Every now and then, Anna cannot help but let the feelings overwhelm her. She lost her mother long ago and has been alone on her own for so long and while she is strong, god knows that, she is sometimes that scared child that wishes to be hold by someone. It doesn't matter how many muscles she has, it doesn't matter how strong she is nor how tall she is compared to the others. She still has a sweet heart and love to give inside but doesn't know how to

And after a really hard trial with everyone flashing her, breaking pallets in her back even several times, you found her sitting on the ground.

It seemed like the rest had already given up from annoying tf out of her and already escaped. They stole all they could from the map and after basically emptying the flashlight batteries on her, there was nothing else fun to do there, more taking in mind that Anna seemed to had given up

You have been there against her in a few trials already. That wasn't normal. She was always so strong and amazing! You always admired it. Her figure, her muscles and her strength to carry on. Deep down you just wanted to hold onto those muscles and cuddle against her

But you found a defeated Anna and... You still wanted to cuddle her, but in a bit different way

Anna barely looked up when she heard your footsteps. She thought one of the survivors didn't had enough yet. But she was surprised to see you, softly tilting her head. She thought you would have escaped like the others. You were always nice. But you were there still. Did you want to laugh at her as well?

Her jaw almost drops when you lean down to her figure and hug her. You can feel her muscles tense and for a moment you feel scared you fcked up and she would kill you. But you slowly felt her body relax under your embrace

She took you in her arms, sat you on her lap and covered your figure in her embrace. You felt happy you were finally able to get close to the giant woman and she felt happy she finally had someone to hug. Your embrace meant the world to her in that moment

From that time, things between you were different. She was never too hard against you in trials because you weren't mean, but since then, she was always missing shots with you. Oops, she was clumsy that day, haha, right? Oh shit there goes Nea's head, that was so accurate

But no axe against your skin

She loved having you around, feeling your arms trying to embrace her large figure. You could feel her chest puff as she would laugh whenever you tried your best to completely hug her but couldn't.

She had no restrictions. You could hug her whenever and however you wanted. But PLEASE, be careful with her axes! Those are extremely sharp!

Everytime you hugged her and tried to cling onto her, if you are ok, she would happily hold you in her arms and put you on her shoulders. Sometimes she would pick you up bridal style and bring you everywhere until she finds a nice spot to cuddle with you

For quite some time she isn't comfortable taking her mask off. But if you give her enough time and don't pressure her, she will eventually take it off to snuggle with you. She loves pressing her face against you, to feel your warmth and see that she isn't alone anymore

THE SPIRIT

What? You wanted to hug her? Why? Her whole body is covered by broken glass!

She doesn't trust you the first times you try to get close to her. She will always attack, hiss you and push you away. She doesn't want you any closer to her. She has the feeling you're trying a weird trick on her to hurt her. She doesn't know what, but she is so sure no one would want to be closer to her. At least not for something good

But she starts to see little by little that you aren't hurting her and you're being pretty gentle with her. As gentle as you can actually be against a killer trying to kill you. But you seemed sad to have to break pallets on her back and you hissed in pain when you could see the pieces of glass get deeper in her skin with each hit. Like... You felt empathy for her?

She had so many mixed feelings from that. She knew you wanted to get close to her, she knew you weren't hurting her. But she didn't know why? She couldn't understand that someone could appreciate her enough to get closer due to what she went through and what her body had

She doesn't really speak your language so she doesn't even know how to ask you what do you want or what your intentions are. But you realize that every attempt you make to get closer to her is slowly being a bit more succesful than the previous one

Oh, don't think it's gonna take you just a few, no. It's gonna take you probably a lot more than a month or even a few months for her to finally trust you to get closer to her. But patience is the key with her. She has suffered so much even from people closer to her she has struggles trusting

The first time you try to reach her hand, she struggles to keep her physical form. She "glitches" trying to process your action but doesn't move away until you finally grab her hand, carefully, softly. Your thumb caress her cold skin and she barely moves. She's speechless, but feeling someone elses' touch is like a dream for her

She almost melts in your touch, if it wasn't because she can't...

She is ok with you holding her hand pretty often, but the attemps to hug her are way harder. Is not like she doesn't trust you, the opposite, she trusts you and doesn't want to hurt you

Trust me when I say she wishes with her whole soul to hug you and get some comfort cuddling with you, but she is so SCARED to hurt you. It doesn't matter how many times you tell her it's ok because you have medkits and nothing can really go THAT bad down the entitie's eyes. She won't allow a survivor to die outside a trial. But she's still is scared to hurt you

Although, you end up managing to find the best spots to hug her avoiding all her pieces of glass. It's a work between you both but you find several cuddling poses that keep your arms and hands and even your body away from the sharp edges

True, every now and then you hiss in pain feeling a cut. And she still tries to run away when she realizes she has hurt you. But you still manage to calm her down and keep her on your side

She learnt to take care of your wounds in the most soft possible way so cuddles become way more frequent. She's so in love with your hugs !

[obae-me]

The Brothers and their Nightmares

I was going to post this for Halloween, but things came up as they always do and I couldn't get to finishing it until now. Enjoy the late angst and spoops!

These are just dream scenarios I imagined the Brothers would suffer with, connected to both their Sin and the personal things they struggle with. Most of it is symbolic but could still be triggering for some.

TW: Hurt/No Comfort, Violent Images, Death, Blood, Angst, Nightmare Scenarios, Burning, Broken Bones, Disturbing Scenes that may upset readers. As Always, Read Safely.

Lucifer:

Displayed in a box. Preserved. Hung on a shelf for all to see. Trapped in a clear case with giant pins puncturing his wings and limbs in place. A perfect specimen.

The pain is immense. The torture almost unbearable, but this is where he belongs, right? To be shown off with Pride? To weather any struggles and pain to shine ever brighter in the light? A diamond only need be pressurized, cut, and polished before it's valuable.

Blurry faces of demons and angels and humans alike all pass him by, pointing at him and observing him with awe, sometimes fear, but nothing more. A living piece of art. He's searching for any familiarity amongst the crowd. The people he loves the most, the people he wants to shine for above all, the people he's suffering for!

Please! Give him a reason to endure this crucifixion! Prove to him that this is worth it! Let him know that he's enough! This prison must mean something! Don't say it was all for nothing! Everything he's worked for! Everything he's lamented over, toiled for! Look at him! Appreciate him!

But no one ever comes.

In the end he's left alone. The pins push deeper. The blood dripping from his eyes.

Just a caged butterfly.

--

Mammon:

Glistening palms. Shimmering faces. Gold as far as the eye can see. A perfect shining kingdom. Frozen lifeless subjects. This isn't what he wanted.

Come on, Belphie. Beel? What about you Asmo?... Satan?... No... Levi, please... Hells no... Lucifer!

Unmoving metal lips match each stiff jeweled eye. His hands... He- he had only touched them. That was all he did. Right? All he had done was love them. The Greed had become too much. In his ambition for glory, his corrupted embrace had tainted his family past the flesh. Motionless mannequins, that's all they were now. Cursed to shine till the end of time. His treasures that he had always craved.

Was this what he had wanted all along? No! He had created this all for his family! His friends! His loved ones! They were to all to gimmer with him! Not leave him alone! He did this. He always took things too far. Steal and cheat and lie until nothing remained! Rotten scum! Why couldn't he just listen? Why couldn't he just be better?! Give him a second chance... please. He can be better... Someone say something...

A destiny written in stone. Take. Even the lives of his brothers.

No matter how hard he tries, he only makes things worse.

Surrounded by the Fool's gold.

--

Levi:

Clanging, burning chains. There's a constant deafening buzzing in the air, the chatter of thousands of people. The voices rise and fall in rhythm, like the beating of war drums, or the increasing pace of his heart. He can't think, he can hardly see, and he can't breathe.

Millions of shining eyes stare down at his restrained body in the middle of a stadium. The blinding gazes singe his body, his skin melting off his bones. He's not the only one at the center of attention. Other people, other contestants are here to play the same game. Win, and get everything you ever dreamed. Lose, and be forced to burn with Envy and shame.

Every failed attempt of his makes the arena hotter. The infernal heat spills from the breaths of the crowd sharing his weaknesses to the world. They give his competitors the advantage, kicking him while he's down. The thrumming gets faster. It's not fair! He's trying so hard! Was he just doomed from the start? Was he born a failure? Hated by the universe since the moment of conception?! Is that why he's never good enough? Is that why all his brothers get to move on without him?!

His dreams always just out of reach. He's not good enough to be loved.

The bitterness eats him up from the inside.

Till he's melted into a pile of nothing.

--

Satan:

A mess of strings. The curtain is drawn. The show begins! It's the same routine day after day after day after day-- He can't take this any more!

He doesn't even understand this masquerade! The story he's forced to play out is gibberish, some fickle plot he can't even begin to fathom. Everything is foreign to him. The audience, the dance, his body, his Wrath. None of it is recognizable. And they chuckle like they know, like they enjoy his ignorance. Limbs are pulled in any direction the strings choose. Bones broken, lips sealed shut, he's pushed to the brink of oblivion once again.

But he worked so hard! Everything he's read, everything he learned, so he could stop feeling like this! He's not just a hollow doll, controlled by someone else's ambitions! He has thoughts, he has feelings! He might... not fully understand them yet, but he's trying! Tell him he's smart, that he's strong, that he's his own person! Let him stand on his own!

But only his mind is allowed to scream as the congregation watches.

A wicked dance until the strings are snipped. His opportunity to be independent. But instead, he falls into a lifeless heap on the floor.

Nothing without someone else.

The poor wooden plaything will never be real.

--

Asmo:

An endless winding labyrinth of mirrors. He runs, panting and crying as he tries to find his way through the illusions. Make it stop! Let him have peace!

The creatures are invisible to his normal eyes, only showing up in the reflections of the mirrors surrounding him. There's hundreds of them at least, crawling over each other to get to him. They don't even make a sound, silently scrambling towards him. An amalgamation of Lust. Each time they grab him, they take something precious from him. His fingernails, strands of his hair, his beautiful lips, the blush from his cheeks. They rip off of him as easily as tearing away a puzzle piece.

They're stripping him of his beauty bit by bit! How is he supposed to be loved like this?! If he's not gorgeous, than what is he? He has nothing left! This is all he has! He's not strong, or smart, or powerful! His physical charm is all he has! Please, leave him alone! He's supposed to be a jewel! That's all anyone ever sees him as!

He can't bear to look at himself. Every time he glances he's slightly different. Until he no longer recognizes the humanoid shell in the mirror. But he has no choice to keep looking if he wants to keep an eye on the monsters pursuing him.

A single fumble.

It's rather quick and painless as the souls each take what they want from him.

And leave him broken in shards on the floor.

--

Beel:

Screams echo from every direction. Buildings crumble as the earth shakes and the air hums. A moving living black cloud sweeps through the town. Where's his family? He has to help.

The sky a vast pool of crimson as the Celestial Sun and Demonic Moon cross paths and cast a torrent of blood down onto the merging realms. The ground beneath them all trembles, growling. It's Gluttonous. Every person he tries to save is always just too far away. They either get consumed from the plague of insects or fall into the gaping maws of the starving earth. And he still can't find his family.

Why? Why is this happening? Why isn't he strong enough to save anyone?! All the workouts, all the training, pushing his muscles stronger than any demon ever has, all so he can quit feeling so useless! He told himself he would be ready to take on anything! Even an entire army if he had to, just so he could save somebody for once! Lilith... Belphie… everyone... he's sorry... Sorry he's so weak. This is his fault.

The foundation beneath his feet begins to crumble.

His wings feel far too fragile to fly.

It makes sense that in the End of Days, no one would be there to save him.

He didn't deserve it.

--

Belphie:

There's something rotten in his chest. It feels like a pit in his soul, growing larger with every passing second. The sensation is agonizing.

It's something no one can see, but something he feels with every breath. It's very slowly stripping him of everything he is. His love, his memories, his desires... He needs to go find help. The House is laid out all wrong. Doors lead to where they shouldn't, hallways bend in the wrong directions. His house doesn't even feel like home anymore. Every step feels harder than it should. The supposedly easy task of getting help seeming more like an impossible feat. This rot is more than just Sloth. It takes what seems like hours to finally find his family. That's when he reaches out to them, trying to tell them what's wrong. But he can't speak for some reason.

Gestures and panicked grasping means nothing to his brothers. The desperation in his eyes goes ignored as most simply rub his head or push him off to the side, not taking him seriously in the least. But this hurts! He can't take the pain anymore! Someone help him! Don't push him away, don't treat it like a joke! Listen to him! Take what he has to say into consideration! He can't possibly speak over six other voices!

His efforts wasted, his energy depleted.

The rot ate away at his heart and left him numb.

And everyone walked away, leaving the boy who cried to cry alone.

[mymegrokosmos]

"i spent years in therapy working through the scars you left me with until I could bare to face myself again. you don't get to just waltz right back into my life without consequences and unravel all the progress I made on a whim."

he opens his mouth, but you cut him off, shaking your head. "no, jeonghan. there's nothing you can say now to unfuck everything you made a mess of between us so don't bother. I've already done that work for myself."

he nods, tucking both hands into the pockets of his dress pants, and indicates that you should continue.

"if this, what we had once when things were still good between us, ever meant even a modicum of something to you, walk right back out that door and close this chapter on us forever."

he shakes his head. "that I can't do, darling. even if this wasn't mingyu's wedding. that would only leave things even worse off than they are. you and I both know it."

you sigh. he's right. how you hate when he's right.

"I owe you more apologies than I can make right, even if I spent the rest of my life making amends for the ways I broke you. as unintentional as most of it was, it still happened, and neither of us can take that back."

you watch the way his eyes drop to his shoes. hear the way he clears his voice when it cracks just a little. he really means it.

"you made me a better man in ways you never got to see and all I gave you back, for the most part, were memories you wished you could burn."

you shake your head. "not all of them."

he smiles sadly. "a lot of them. you deserved better than I could give you then. I am sorry. It doesn't change anything but you should know that."

you nod. "thank you."

he straightens. "I know I did a lot of things that don't deserve forgiveness but do you think, maybe, we can start fresh?"

you consider this, staring at the hand he holds out to you. "I don't know."

you meet his eyes. honesty seems so easy when he's standing right here in front of you. it's all you know with jeonghan. maybe part of you hopes your truth will hurt him. he deserves that and you're not entirely without pettiness, despite the years of therapy and self-reflection. part of you also just needs him to know what he's asking of you, where you stand.

"you hurt me han, really really hurt me, for a long time. It took me years to forgive that. for myself, not for you. I don't know if I can just put that all aside. If I can see you differently than I did back then."

he nods. "that's fair. do you think you can try?"

you take a minute to look him over. he's still the jeonghan you used to know, parts of him at least, but also more polished. he's lost some of the anger, the brashness, the spontaneity. you weigh the words on your tongue.

"I think I can try. no promises, but... I can try."

in which you ex-boyfriend of 4 years, yoon jeonghan, suddenly decides that after almost a decade apart life isn't worth living if you aren't in it. you accidentally reconnect when you get an invitation to your mutual friend, mingyu's wedding. you would usually have just declined but kim mingyu was someone who did a lot for you back in college when you and jeonghan first met - and throughout your first corporate job and subsequent breakup. so you say yes to being in his bridal party.

for the most part it's nice. you get to pay back an old friend for his support and investment into your growth, and your life, and reconned with a few other mutual friends. you see seungcheol, wonwoo and woozi his groomsmen and best man. your best friend vernon is also invited to the wedding so you get to ask for his opinion on some of the decisions and share flights and accommodations for the destination wedding.

it's all going swimmingly, that is until you turn up to rehearsal brunch a few days before the ceremony and reception, to find none other theb jeonghan standing in for his best friend seungcheol who's currently dealing with a case of 48hr stomach bug and trying his best to rest and recover so he can still be there to support mingyu on your friend's big day.

woozi and wonwoo do their best to navigate the tension. dk, who you run into at dinner, gets sat between you and distracts you well. you spend as much time as you can with dino, seungkwan and vernon. jun and minghao invite you out for meals and drinks too which is nice. hoshi diffuses a few heated moments and totally walks in on a couple of arguments completely unaware of anything.

in the end joshua is the one who plays buffer the best between you and makes the ceremony go off smoothly. you play along for mingyu's sake. that is until you end up on the same flight back home and jeonghan insists on driving you from the airport so you don't have to get a taxi since vernon had to take an early flight back for work and you're on a redeye landing as the sun is just barely rising.

... maybe i'll turn this into a more fleshed out something when my brain is working again.

[xadianglyphs]

The Dragonscale Amulet: Theory

And finally... literally the reason I made this entire blog. Basically, back in March we had this:

Anyway, I dropped literally everything to catalog the entire breadth of writing, runes, glyphs, etc. in the series so far, all in order to figure out what the hell this means. One theory that has evolved in the meantime is that the symbol on the amulet represents an acorn or seed, but I would like to propose another.

First, let's look at the amulet and symbol, themselves.

The amulet is composed of a dragon scale (allegedly, at least... we haven't seen dragon scales separated from dragons anywhere else) that is red, highly reflective (whether naturally or polished after the fact), and about palm-sized. By that scale, it probably comes from a dragon about Pyrrah's size or a little larger, unless it was carved down to a smaller size when crafted into an amulet. The scale is anchored in a gold setting, with a shape and decorations that have a fair amount of similarity to the Staff of Ziard. (Maybe we should have anticipated an Aaravos/Startouch association.)

As for the symbol, accounting for perspective (to the best of my abilities), we have this:

The symbol is etched directly into the scale's surface. Its lines are less smooth than the ones decorating the setting, which could indicate that it was added at another time (earlier/later) with a less precise tool, or just that gouging designs into dragon scales is hard.

In terms of similarity to other symbols we've seen so far, it could come from a similar system as the symbols in Infantis Sanguine. It also has similarities to a primal rune, though the sharp, wide corners are unusual. Either way, I think this is a pictographic symbol representing an item or concept as a whole, not an alphabetic character—this isn't Laurelion personally going around with a blinged-out "L" necklace.

So what could it be? Well, I propose that it's a heart. Like so:

My initial impression had the horizontal top "crossbar" as the pulmonary arteries, and the vertical center line as the aorta/vena cava, but you could also look at the crossing vertical and diagonal lines as dividing the space into the four chambers of the heart. However, I think there's another direction to go with that diagonal, so let's put a pin in that for a moment.

Why a heart? Because there has a sizeable amount of fairly convincing speculation post-s4 that the dark space in Aaravos's chest is either figuratively or literally representing his heart having been removed. @raayllum's are a lot more coherent, but I've also done my share.

I'm sure someone had this thought before I did, if only because I was super late to the fandom. But I had it!

... okay right, back to the amulet.

Aaravos's heart is also a key part of the "Laurelion and Aaravos are the same person" theory, in part because Laurelion's heart is the center of everything we currently know about them.

Laurelion's heart was pierced by either the as-yet-unnamed Novablade itself or a piece of draconic ivory (i.e. a dragon's tooth) that was later forged into the Novablade, after which "immortal Laurelion was no more."

Aside from creating an additional connection between Laurelion and dragons, making the dragon scale of the amulet even more interesting, let's go back to the symbol in light of the whole "pierced" thing.

Now, TDP has a fair amount of Christian symbolism and imagery to it, some purely because of how deeply Christianity is embedded in western culture but some also definitely intentional. Aaravos was initially framed as a Prometheus figure, but it became progressively more clear that he's a Lucifer one—a tempter, a rebel angel, out to destroy creation. They absolutely know what they're doing with things like the *checks watch* 2019 Aaravos birthday post:

So don't think it's completely insane to take that, Laurelion's death[citation needed], and the amulet symbol, and think of this:

Depictions of the Sacred Heart don't seem to usually show the spear, just the wound, but I wasn't raised Catholic so work with me here. (If you want to get even more Catholic, there's also the Immaculate Heart of Mary, which is almost always depicted with a sword piercing it diagonally all the way through because she's... sad? Look, I don't know.) The idea is that it represents the boundless and fervent love of God expressed through the suffering of Jesus, which... whatever.

I do think it's interesting, however, that we are primed to question Laurelion's "death" and concepts of mortality/immortality, death of identity, etc. in the context of Startouch elves because while there's definitely a possibility that an immortal being stripped of their immortality is a punishment, there's also... a lot of cultural precedent for that as a willing gift of love to a mortal/mortals, whether you're looking at Jesus, Castor and Pollux, or Arwen and Aragorn. So we'll see how that plays out.

Anyway, that's my weird fringe theory: the amulet symbol represents Laurelion's pierced heart.

Probably time to worry about Claudia. (As if we weren't, already.)

Bonus: