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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days

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Nini I want to fuck a demon boy so bad I can't. I'm so sleep deprived and this is the only thing on my mind. The idea of this powerful demon who's not used to being challenged, just ending up ass up face down on the floor, bed WHEREVER. It's not important. Ending up like that is just peak. Also I like to think they'd have sensitive tails. So. Like. I totally.

Wanna make them fuck themselves with their own tail. I think that'd be great. I think it would be awesome.

I want them to get so flustered at the idea of doing it, but do it anyway just coz I told them to. I can almost imagine them finding their own prostate with their tail, and really they can't decide which sensation to focus on. Feeling themselves clench around their own tail, or the way the slightly pointed end slams into their prostate. And bonus points if they cum and you overstim them by grabbing their tail and fucking them so much harder than they could themselves. Hooray, now they've got

your hand around their already much too sensitive tail

said sensitive tail is being slammed into their ass

it's gotta feel so good, they'd probably be so tight around themselves

your hand is gonna slip a few times, which is gonna end up in stroking their tail, which has got to feel like heaven for them

not to forget that you're thrusting their tails directly onto their prostate without letting them breathe

I just. I don't know. I think they'd look so pretty, flushed and begging to stop, even though it's them that keeps weakly trying to thrust their tail back into themselves. Also, they'd look so pathetic, sobbing from the overstimulation. I'm a sucker for tears trailing down their faces, eyes red and a little puffy. It'd almost make you wanna be nice to them. Almost.

But yknow, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And sometimes what a girl's gotta do is fuck a demon stupid with their own tail. (I don't have the same way with words as some people, but like do you see the vision)

~a sleep deprived,🧁anon

You are so smart holy shit. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Fucking a demon with their own tail? Why didn’t I think of something as great as this??! Lemme write down my thoughts for a sec- (btw I thought you are like, very religious?)

Dom!reader x sub!character

You had a long day behind you, and there was nothing sweeter than the thought of finally getting some sleep. All you wanted was to have a good rest, but to your demise you woke up in the middle of the night with something heavy on top of you. “Ops, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Oh well this will do too.” What the hell? It was a fucking person?? First thing you did was push him off of you and turning on the lights, then you thought this was some kind of weird joke. He had two horns growing out of his forehead, as well as a super long tail with a heart shaped tip. Not to mention the pink, glowing tattoo on his pelvis. When he opened his mouth again, you thought you didn’t hear right. “I’m an incubus, pleasant to meet you~ now let me feast on you, pretty please?”

An incubus, so, in other words a demon. What in the- never mind. He said he wanted to feast on you? Heck no, he woke you up in the middle of the night and is expecting you to have the energy to fuck him? As soon as he got up to try make a move on you, you flipped him over and tangled your hand in his hair, then pressed his face into your pillow. “If you are that desperate do it yourself.” Of course that little slut was into that.

He reached for his dick, but you slapped his hand away and instead grabbed his tail. “MhMngh- aaAAHhnn~!” A surprised yet blissful moan escaped him, face all red as lust fills their already sinful body. Anticipation swelling inside them at the thought of what you might do with them. That’s when they felt their own tail poking against their butt… wait wha? In the mean time you stroked it gently while whispering, “I want to watch you fuck yourself, who knows, I might reward you afterwards.” Suddenly all their previous confidence vanished as embarrassment took over. With their own tail..?? How did you even get that idea! Not even something as perverted as them had such outrageous ideas..!

In the end they could only obey without protesting, trusting their already super sensitive tail into their tight, wet hole. Each time they accidentally hit their prostate, they’d yelp and whimpers. Pretty tears are already rolling down their even prettier faces. Eyes half lidded as they whine, “mhm! Ah-ahhHh.. nghHnn~!!” All while their poor, useless dick is twitching around on its own, making a mess everywhere <3

Gojo, Sukuna, Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, jouno, Scaramouch, Kaeya, lyney, Ayato, Aventurine, Sampo, Jing Yuan (?), Douma - your favourites

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hookhausenschips · 3 days

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A Little Release {LH44}

500 Follower Special!!!

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Summary: Lewis has a terrible qualifying for the race so he decides that the new intern can help relieve his stress

Taglist

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, praise, degradation, countdown, rough sex

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Y/N's POV

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the Shanghai International Circuit, my heart sank with the weight of disappointment. Today's qualifying session was nothing short of a bitter pill to swallow for the Mercedes F1 team. Lewis Hamilton, our champion, sat in 18th position on the starting grid for tomorrow's race. It was a far cry from where we expected to be.

Toto Wolff's urgent request echoed in my mind as I navigated through the bustling paddock, the gravity of the situation pushing me forward. As the social media intern for the team, I knew my responsibilities extended beyond crafting engaging posts and capturing behind-the-scenes moments. Sometimes, it meant being a messenger in moments of tension.

My footsteps quickened as I approached the team's designated area, my mind racing with the task ahead. Finding Lewis Hamilton wasn't a challenge in itself; it was the conversation awaiting me that made my stomach churn. But Toto's words rang clear: "We need Lewis at the briefing."

I scanned the corridors, dodging mechanics and team personnel until I reached Lewis's designated area. The subdued atmosphere surrounding the room betrayed the intensity of the situation within. I took a deep breath, knocking lightly on the door before stepping inside.

The dimly lit room offered a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the racetrack. Lewis sat in a chair, his features etched with frustration as he pored over data on his tablet. The tension in the air was palpable, like a storm waiting to break.

"Hey, Lewis," I began tentatively, my voice cutting through the silence. His gaze flicked up, surprise mingling with the frustration etched on his face. "Toto's calling for the team briefing. It's time."

His jaw tensed, a fleeting expression of annoyance crossing his features before he sighed heavily. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," he muttered, his tone clipped.

I hesitated for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. But I couldn't afford to falter now. "Toto needs you there now, Lewis," I urged gently, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

He let out a frustrated growl, his eyes narrowing. "Fuck this shit," he muttered under his breath, setting aside his tablet. A flash of vulnerability crossed his face before he stood abruptly, his eyes searching the room. "Come here."

His voice held a command that sent a shiver down my spine, and without hesitation, I moved closer. My heart raced as I found myself standing in front of him, feeling the heat of his gaze on me. In the dim lighting, I could see the tension in his jaw, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Sit down," he instructed, pointing to a chair near him. I obeyed without question, settling into the seat with a sense of unease.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me close, and my breath caught in my throat. I felt the heat radiating from his body, the strength of his grip sending waves of excitement through me. His lips brushed against mine, a gentle caress that belied the intensity brewing within him.

His hands explored my body, tracing along my curves with a possessive touch. His fingers teased my skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in their wake. And then, with a sudden surge of energy, his mouth captured mine again, this time with a fervor that left me breathless.

His tongue traced every inch of my mouth, exploring hungrily. My own desires rose to meet his, aching for more. His hands slid down my waist, gripping tightly before he pulled me up onto his lap. I gasped at the sudden movement, feeling his erection press against my thigh.

With a low groan, he leaned back into the chair, drawing me closer to him. His hands slipped beneath my shirt, his fingers dancing across my skin. I moaned softly, lost in the sensation of his touch.

And then, with a swift motion, he pushed me back onto the chair, pinning me firmly in place. His hand slipped under my skirt, sliding higher until it found the fabric of my panties. With a single tug, they were gone, leaving me exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

His fingers danced along my inner thighs, sending shivers of pleasure through me. And then, with a sudden rush of adrenaline, his fingers found their way to my center. His movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke bringing me closer to the edge.

I moaned softly, my body arching against his touch. And then, with a sudden surge of energy, he plunged two fingers deep inside me. I cried out, my head falling back against the chair as the sensations overwhelmed me.

His thumb found my clit, rubbing it in slow circles while his fingers continued their relentless rhythm. My cries became louder, my body writhing against his touch. And then, with a final push, he brought me to the edge of climax.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "You're so fucking wet, baby. You want it?" I nodded frantically, unable to form words. "Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

"Please, Lewis. Please fuck me," I begged, my voice hoarse with desire. His smile was wicked, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

Without warning, he lifted me up and positioned me on his desk. I gasped as he spread my legs wide open, exposing my pussy to his hungry gaze. He leaned down, licking a stripe up the length of my slit before he pressed his tongue against my clit. I cried out, my body arching against his touch.

His tongue worked magic on my clit, stroking and sucking in perfect harmony. I moaned loudly, my fingers digging into the desk as the sensations overwhelmed me. And then, with a sudden surge of energy, he plunged his tongue deeper into me. I screamed, my body shaking with pleasure.

He lifted his head, looking into my eyes with a smirk. "Fuck yeah, baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance of lust and desire.

His hands roamed my body, teasing and tormenting me. I writhed against him, desperate for release. "Please, Lewis," I whimpered, my voice breaking. He laughed, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"What do you say?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "Please, please, please," I begged, tears welling in my eyes.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "Beg for it, baby. Beg for my cock."

My breathing grew ragged as I struggled to form words. "Please, Lewis," I pleaded. "Please fuck me."

His laugh was low and cruel. "Is that all you have to offer, little girl? Is that all you're worth?"

His words stung, but I refused to let them bring me down. "Please, Lewis," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please fuck me. I need you."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "Are you sure, baby? Are you sure you can handle all of this?" He thrust his hips forward, his cock hard and throbbing against my entrance.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I cried, my body arching against him. He thrust forward again, burying himself deep inside me. I gasped, the pleasure overwhelming me.

His cock filled me completely, stretching me in ways I never thought possible. I moaned, my body trembling with desire. "Harder, harder," I begged.

He obliged, pounding into me with increasing force. My cries of pleasure echoed throughout the room, blending with the sounds of our bodies slapping together.

He leaned down, his lips grazing my ear. "Good girl," he whispered. "That's right, take it all. Take everything I give you."

His words sent shivers of pleasure through me, and I arched my back further, taking him deeper than ever before. He growled in response, his pace quickening as he slammed into me harder and faster.

"You're such a good little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his eyes burning with lust. "You love taking it all, don't you?"

I nodded frantically, my eyes locked on his. His smile was wicked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "That's right, baby. You're mine now. Mine to use and abuse as I see fit."

"You're so fucking tight," he rasped. "So fucking wet. Can't get enough of this pussy."

His words sent a wave of arousal through me, and I moaned, bucking my hips against him. "Faster," I cried, my voice raw with desire.

He complied, slamming into me with renewed vigor. His cock filled me completely, stretching me in ways I never thought possible. I moaned, my body trembling with pleasure.

He leaned down, his lips grazing my ear. "Good girl," he whispered. "That's right, take it all. Take everything I give you."

"Such a dirty whore. Taking all of me like a good girl. Fuck your pussy was made for me." he said, his voice low and gravelly.

I moaned, my body trembling with pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes!" I cried, my eyes rolling back in my head.

"Is my baby girl close?" He whispered as he placed his hand around my throat to pull me up to kiss him. I moaned, still able to taste myself on his tongue. "You don't get to cum until I get to 0. Got it?" I nodded. He tightened his hold on my throat slightly, "Words Y/N or I'll stop and leave you here until the briefing is over." I shook my head, "No please, please, please. Yes daddy I understand." I cried out. He smirked, "Good fucking girl. Now 10," he started.

I bit my lip as he counted down, my body growing increasingly tense with every number. "9," he growled. "8," his voice deep and demanding. "7," he paused, giving me a chance to breathe. "6," his hips bucked against me. "5," his hands gripping my ass. "4," his voice softening slightly. "3," he whispered. "2," I moaned softly. "1," he pulled away from me and stopped thrusting completely. "0," he slammed back into me hard and fast.

I screamed out in pure bliss as I came all over his cock. He grunted and buried himself deeper inside me. My walls contracting around him. "Fucking hell," he cursed as he came hard into me. I felt his hot liquid filling me as I rode out my orgasm. He leaned down and kissed my forehead as we rode out our orgasms together. Then he pulled out and helped me sit up and catch my breath. "Holy fucking shit," I panted. Lewis smiled, "Hell yeah, baby. That was amazing." I looked down at my legs and noticed cum dripping down my thigh. Lewis saw it too and smirked. He grabbed me and carried me to his couch and laid me down. When I regained my senses, I looked up at him and smiled, "Thank you, daddy." He chuckled, "Of course, babygirl. Anytime."

He handed me a towel and some water. I winced as he cleaned me up. "Sorry, babe. Just needed a little release after today." I blushed and nodded. "It's fine," I said quietly. "Just be careful next time." He chuckled and kissed me softly. "Of course, baby. I'll make sure to keep your legs closed next time." I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless.

"Thanks, Lewis." He grinned and wrapped his arms around me. "Anytime, Y/n." We stayed like that for a few more minutes before we finally got dressed and headed out for the team briefing. He walked over to his closet and grabbed a jacket and threw it at me. "Here, put this on." I did as I was told and wrapped the jacket around myself. He opened his arm and pulled me into a hug, "We should get going before everyone starts wondering where we are." I giggled and nodded my head, "Okay, let's go."

He walked out of the room and led us towards the briefing. Everyone looked up when we entered. Toto's eyes widened as he saw me wearing Lewis' jacket. Lewis smirked, "Sorry Toto, we got sidetracked for a bit." Toto raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?" Lewis chuckled, "Yeah, we were having a good time." Toto rolled his eyes, "Well, glad you two decided to join us." Lewis winked at him and we all settled in for the briefing.

After the briefing was over, Lewis walked up to me and whispered in my ear, "Let's go back to the hotel and finish what we started." I blushed and nodded my head. He grinned and took my hand, leading us out of the paddock. We got in the car and drove back to the hotel.

=======================================

LH44 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @leclercdior, @ilivbullyingjeongin

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

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mokassong · 23 hours

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blush- e. engstler

!! - wc 763, sfw, aaliyah #1 wingman

!! - req- Do a Emily Engstler falls in love with reader 😊 & can you do an imagine of Emily meeting reader through a mutual friend and she is like instantly in love with the reader. I don’t have much of a story line for you I’m just starved for Emily content.

The first time you saw Emily, you knew you had to have her.

You met through a mutual friend, Aaliyah. She had gone to college with an ex-situationship of yours, Azzi. (You cut things off after learning she was madly in love with her teammate, Paige.)

Aaliyah had invited you to try out a new cafe with her and her new teammate, Emily. You accepted the invite after spending ten minutes stalking Emily’s socials.

Now, as you stand in front of the door, your hands become sweaty with anticipation. You mutter a quick prayer before pushing the door open, flinching at the bell that rings.

You breathe in the sweet aroma of the cafe, smiling to yourself before landing eyes on your friend. Aaliyah grins at you, and that’s when you see her.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in the booth, ter two signature braids behind her back and her legs slightly spread.

You approach the table and force yourself to tear your gaze away from her lap and up to her face.

“Hi, I’m—“ You start, sitting beside Aaliyah.

“This is my friend. The one I told you about.” Aaliyah smiles tightly, staring daggers at Emily.

“Uh, yeah.” You say awkwardly, looking down at your lap. You look back up at the sound of a raspy voice going, “Hi, I’m Emily.”

You look up to see her hand outstretched, and quickly shake it. She clears her throat, and you blush. Did she feel how sweaty my hands are? Is she disgusted now?

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

Emily knows she’s done for.

The rookie on the team, Aaliyah, catches a ride home with her. On the way, they pass a cafe with a “Now Open” sign. Aaliyah gasps, exclaiming, “oh my gosh, my friend wanted to try that place out!”

Emily, not thinking, says, “You want me to give you a ride?”

Aaliyah grins. “What, you think you’re not invited?”

That lead Emily to where she is now. Laying on her bed, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone, she smiles to herself. She’s spent the past five minutes spamming Aaliyah’s messages asking for your instagram, and her teammate finally let up.

Emily grins, pasting your username in the search bar. She clicks on your account and cheers to herself when she sees your snapchat is in your bio.

Fifteen minutes later she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning, Aaliyah is texting her at the break of dawn with confirmation that you’re meeting them at the cafe.

On the drive there, Emily drums her fingers nervously on the center console. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous— she’s met pretty girls before.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in hopes that you’ll either sit across from her so she can try to find out what your eye color is, or even better, next to her.

She hears the bell ringing, signaling the arrival of a new customer, and it takes all of her energy to not whip her head around to stare at you.

Her shoulders slump when you sit across from her and not next to her, but her eyes quickly light up as Aaliyah introduces you. She ignores the warning look in her friend’s eyes, instead putting her hand out.

“Hi, I’m Emily.”

She clears her throat, hoping to get rid of the rasp in her voice in case you get disgusted.

Aaliyah rolls her eyes, and the tree of you get up to order your drinks. You step back to let Emily order next, but end up stepping on her foot and tripping.

You expect to fall flat on your face, embarrassing yourself for good, but Emily places her hands on your waist, saying politely, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

When you get back to the table, you sit next to her.

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

You walk back to your apartment with a grin on your face, giving your cat an extra scoop of food and almost skipping to your bedroom.

You plug in your now dead phone, going into your closet to change into more comfortable clothes. When you finally lay down, you grab your phone, checking all your missed notifications.

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER FOLLOWED YOU !

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER HAS LIKED YOUR POST !

> (SNAPCHAT) EM_ENGSTLER HAS SENT YOU A FRIEND REQUEST !

> (MESSAGES) ########## HAS SENT YOU A MESSAGE !

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

do we want a part 2?

#emily engstler #emily engstler smut #emily engstler x reader #wbb smut #wbb #washington mystics #wnba smut #smut #wlw

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hannieehaee · 1 day

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Sua escrita é realmente fabulosa e estou realmente perdida nisso desde que algo como namorada latina foi mencionado em sua masterlist.

Posso perguntar algo como se a leitora fosse uma garota de ascendência latina (ou totalmente latina, depende de você) e bem, a reação dos integrantes ao se conhecerem pela primeira vez com ela e descobrirem que são realmente sensacionais na cama?

Sorry if my English is bad, it's not my first language (I'm a Brazilian girl

their latina s/o being amazing in bed

content: smut, mentions of first time having sex together, afab reader, mentions of penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 787

a/n: thank uu!! and thank u for requesting<3 i hope u like what i wrote<33

masterlist

seungcheol -

not too surprised. the moment he saw you, he just knew you were gonna rock his world. to be fair, he did hope he'd be able to make you feel just as good as you did him, but he cant imagine any possible way in which you could feel as good as he did last night. he's still replaying it in his head, aware that this will be a recurring memory any time he's alone at night and away from you.

jeonghan -

for once in his life, he has no idea how to react. he has no quick-witted response for you nor does he know how to regain that suave personality he usually has. he's just a mess of heavy breaths and stutters as you take care of him. he finds it impossible to regain his standing when its so easy for you to turn him into a mess.

joshua -

somehow cocky about how good you make him feel. convinced that you're just so into him that you cant help make him lose all his composure in bed. does his best to match your energy and have you seeing stars just like you do him.

jun -

you'll literally have him in tears by the end of the night. would whine at you as to why you didn't warn him you were a monster in bed. did you want him to make a fool of himself? well, it worked! bc he's now putty in your hands, body reacting to every single one of your expert touches.

soonyoung -

thanks you constantly (and pathetically) for choosing him as the guy whose world you'd be altering with that magical pussy (his words). will become immediately obsessed with you and the way you make him feel, unable to have any sense of dignity when it comes to begging you for another night.

wonwoo -

used to being the one who takes care of their partner during sex, and although he can still do that with you, he is unsure of how to handle himself when you're making him feel this good. never would he have imagined you'd be able to read him so easily and have him eating from the palm of your hand.

jihoon -

red in the face and letting out hiccuped gasps at every touch. itd take him five minutes to realize he was in over his head sleeping with someone so good an experienced at pleasure. dies and goes to heaven and is reborn again multiple times throughout the night, now with an image of you stuck to his head.

seokmin -

falls victim to your seductive aura immediately, becoming a shell of himself as he gives in to the pleasure you offer him. will literally get on his knees and beg for pussy after just one time in bed with you.

mingyu -

you're gorgeous, so for some reason that led him to believe you'd be amazing in bed. however, he was unprepared for how drastically you'd alter his brain chemistry through the way you made him feel. everything about you had his eyes crossing and his brows furrowing in pleasure. he was sure he'd never feel as good as this moment.

minghao -

one of the only times in his life that his composure broke so badly. he had been entirely unprepared to find out you were somehow a siren that could get him weak at the knees with just one touch. becomes absolutely entranced by you throughout the process.

seungkwan -

blushy, sweaty, hands clammy. he's just a complete mess. he will literally not survive a night with you, too entranced by how easily you take his pleasure and play with it. how is it possible for you to be so good at this? why did you not give him any warning?

vernon -

mind completely blank the moment you begin working him. whether you used your hands, mouth, lips, cunt, tits, etc. he'd was putty in your hands. can't even manage to let out any sounds of pleasure bc of how caught off guard he is by how insanely good you make him feel. not one to beg much, but will absolutely beg you for another taste of that pussy once you're done.

chan -

he was already weak and needy for you before even getting to sleep with you, but ends up becoming even more of a pathetic mess the moment you touch him. no matter what it is you do in bed, he's shocked at how easily you're able to get him begging for more. needs you to never stop touching him, becoming obsessed with you after just one night together.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #seventeen oneshot #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt imagines #svt reactions #seventeen reactions

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starrymothastrology · 2 days

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Lilith: The Signs

This is one of various posts I will be sharing about Lilith signs.

The Black Moon Lilith sign (aka dark moon sign) represents a dark primal feminine energy of rebellion, independence and hidden desires buried within the subconscious, as well as hidden fears and potential challenges. Knowing your Lilith helps with growth via self-awareness, guiding you through a deep level of the psyche and subconscious. Your Lilith can be found in your natal chart (as long as you know your birth date, time and place).

Lilith in Aries: Being bold, confident, assertive, talented and unafraid to break the rules, you have a knack for taking decisive action, but you also have a tendency to become overly-competitive. To heal your Lilith, you must focus on loving and embracing yourself as you are, including your flaws and vulnerabilities.

Lilith in Taurus: You have a strong affinity for luxuries and treating yourself whenever possible, which also drives you to work hard so you can provide yourself with these luxuries; you see it, you like it, you want it, you got it. However, your love for self-pampering has roots in a hesitation to rely on others, which also causes you to keep your guard up at all times. The key to healing your Lilith is to allow yourself to be vulnerable and soften in the presence of others, let your guard down every once in a while.

Lilith in Gemini: You have a very lively and charming energy, especially in terms of love and communication. There's a constant thirst for intellectual stimulation, and you can adapt your communication skills to just about any social situation. However, your charm and wit is sometimes used as a barrier to prevent getting emotionally involved, and it hinders your ability to form deep emotional connections. It is important to heal through acknowledging the pattern and finding the authenticity in your communications and relationships.

Lilith in Cancer: You have heightened emotional sensitivity and deep intuition; you're highly empathetic. However, you have a tendency to over-give in relationships and avoid confrontation by using your emotional energy unproductively. To heal your Lilith, it is important to learn to assert your worth, set boundaries and communicate issues directly without resorting to passive-aggressiveness.

Lilith in Leo: You have an abundance of confidence and power, and shine as bright as the sun itself. However, with your Lilith in this sign, you may have found yourself in relationships that made you feel small and/or were jealous of your strength. Due to this, you may find yourself too caught up in yourself to share love out of fear you will lose control. Healing will take finding friends and relationships that will not try to dim your light, and even try to shine with you.

Lilith in Virgo: You have a strong sense for control, order and perfection, and exude discipline and organization (which you've obtained through hard work). However, you may find yourself to be overly-critical from a fear of not being accepted, and that critical nature can affect not only your own mental health, but relationships with partners. You must remember that love is not perfect, and that it's okay for not everything to be perfect. You cannot control everything, so if it isn't something you can control, then try to relax.

Lilith in Libra: You have a craving for harmony and balance, but often fall to temptation. You have an allure to you that brings opportunities and relationships right to you, and people admire your success. Despite the admiration, though, you may find yourself comparing yourself to others a lot and seeming self-centered. To heal, it is best to go with the flow of the relationships you do have, and be caring towards them. Remember: love is not a game.

Lilith in Scorpio: Your energy is strong and magnetic; you have a charm, allure and confidence to achieve your goals, and others around you recognize and respect your authority, and want to stick around to experience it. However, relationships in your past may have tried to dim your light, causing you to hide your true self. To heal, you should try to embrace your authentic self and be honest. After all, someone who is worth your love and energy is someone who won't judge you for your past or your real self.

Lilith in Sagittarius: Having Lilith in this sign makes you the carefree, adventurous flirt that is always down to explore the world around you. You have a type of warmth and radiance that attracts others to you effortlessly, whether it was your intention or not. While you enjoy the attention, there's one little problem: you're not interested in settling down, perhaps even scared by the idea of commitment, due to an indecisiveness and FOMO. To heal your Lilith, aim to challenge your ideas on love. You can even find yourself in some great adventures while in a loving and committed relationship.

Lilith in Capricorn: You have an incredibly strong work ethic, matching your equally strong desire for recognition, achievement and success, and are always looking to push yourself even further. However, your approach to romance may seem more traditional and stubborn, causing you to appear distant. While you should maintain having standards, don't be afraid to broaden your perspectives. It's okay to let your hair down and be in tune with your romantic desires as opposed to appearing perfect 24/7.

Lilith in Aquarius: You are the rebellious dreamer. Bold, outspoken, fearless and unconventional are your adjectives, and your mysterious aura is especially magnetic when it comes to love and romance. However, you may have a fear of being seen as strange or different, and it causes you to put up a wall and hide your true self. It is important to let go of those negative thoughts and to allow yourself to embrace your authenticity. What's normal anyways?

Lilith in Pisces: You have a deep sense of romanticism and spiritual connection, excelling at forming deep emotional bonds and connections through your ability to understand others profoundly (as well as your warm and graceful aura). However, you tend to see others (especially possible romantic interests) through rose-colored glasses and become overly-optimistic and naive in love, which puts you in trouble through selfish behavior. It is necessary to set healthy boundaries so as to not lose your identity in a relationship and maintain your happiness.

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call-memissbrightside · 2 hours

Text

“Papa, you love mama?”

Katsuki Bakugo continued walking beside his son, but the hitch in his breath was a sign that he heard the question.

Katsuma looked up to the older man, little hand held by his father’s more calloused one. The little boy was a carbon copy of Katsuki, but that also meant he was smart— and just like Kats did as a kid— Katsuma wasn’t shy to ask adults hard questions.

The six year old knew he had a mom that loved him, and that was enough for him. She cared for him, made him breakfast and dinners, and let him jump on the bed for a bit as long as he promised he’d burn out all his energy and go to bed on time. Katsuma knew not having a dad was odd— his classmates always asked why he never drew a daddy when he drew his family.

Yet, you made it your life’s mission to make sure Katsuma never felt unloved because you chose to be a single parent— you were his mama and his papa, and Katsuma loved that.

Yet, now Katsuma had a father, and his little brain worked overtime trying to understand if now it meant he had a full-family, finally. He had a mom, and a dad, and they loved him. Yet, did that mean they loved each other? It was all confusing for the boy and he needed answers.

“I love your mom.” Katsuki’s ears burned from the simple confession but his son wasn’t done asking questions.

“Why didn’t you know about me until I was five?” Katsuma’s brows furrowed.

The older blonde sighed, before stopping. Katsuma looked even more confused as Katsuki kneeled down to meet his red eyes.

“Look bud, your mama and I—,” Katsuki scrambled to find the right words. Katsuma started to chew on his thumb, a habit Katsuki picked up on when his little boy was nervous. Carefully pulling his hand away from his mouth, Katsuki held his son’s hand instead.

“We love you so, so much,” Katsuki squeezed his hand. “Sometimes adults can make mistakes, and I’ll always wish I was a papa to you when you were little but never be angry at your mama for that, okay?”

Katsuma nodded dramatically, the thought absurd to the six year old.

“I will always love your mom— “ Katsuma started jumping in excitement.

“Mama and papa are gonna be together forever? Like married?”

Katsuki took hold of his son’s shoulders, stopping Katsuma’s excited hops.

“Not exactly buddy.” It hurt the older man to see the utter disappointment on his son’s face.

“We… uh—,” Katsuki didn’t even know what was happening between you two. Hooking up on and off and coparenting blurred the lines of labels.

“But you two love each other, and you guys love me, right papa?” Katsuma asked.

Katsuki smiled, ruffling his son’s unruly blonde hair.

“That’s right buddy, and that’s enough for me.”

Katsuma might’ve looked like his father, but he had your smile— the same expression Katsuki loved on you growing on the little boys face.

“That’s enough for me too papa!”

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dad!katsuki #dad!bakugou

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becsabillion4 · 23 hours

Text

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

#becsabillion #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #Carmen berzatto x ofc #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmy the bear #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fandom

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ghostybaby000 · 1 day

Text

After Hours | Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: I recommend going back to the part one listed above to start this adventure of a read!

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+, violent theme, guns, yelling, future smut

(Not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

‘Just here to return this’ One of the other men had come up to the desk dangling a golf cart key just over the counter. You leave your palm out as he puts it in your hand, you take it as you force a small smile over your face.

‘Have a good night you guys.’ A wave sending them off as they bid you a goodnight and made their way for the door. You looked under the desk to get the lock box for the keys and other items as you hear the door chime, they were gone. You took a long deep breath out as your manager made his way out the back door yelling something like- don’t forget the lights, although you couldn’t muster the energy to care. Your eyes began to swell again with tears and embarrassment as you grabbed the lock box and sat up in your chair. You practically drop the box when you see a tall man standing in front of you-silently. You scramble to grab the few things that had fallen out of the box, trying to regain your composure.

‘S-sorry I thought you guys had left, is there something I can get for you?’ You try to discreetly wipe away the tears that had been forming in your eyes as he stands there, now letting his posture relax. You had never interacted with just him before, it was always a team member that had spoken up or taken the lead.

‘I’d like to practice some indoor shooting.’ He looked down at you and only his eyes were visible through his mask, his accented voice was gruff almost as if it were the first time he was speaking today.

‘Oh well were about to clo-‘ You stop yourself, your hand on the lockbox with all the keys inside it to the facility. You were still upset from how your manager had treated you, upset in a way that made you feel embarrassed but also furious. You had worked here for so long without fail, and had in no way deserved to be spoken to like that. Thinking about it made your eyes sting as you shook your head to look back up at the man.

‘That’s right, you guys close earlier on the weekends.’ He tapped a hand on the desk as he spun to leave.

‘N-no, that’s okay. I can open it up for a little.’ You would need time to finish cleaning everything up and locking all the doors, you never liked having a closing shift. The cameras had been clicked off, you were meant to turn them on before leaving as you stood to hopefully get him to stay.

He slowly turned around and made his way back over placing his card on the desk, looking at you for a moment and then walking off towards the door to the range. You reached to grab the keys and a set of ear muffs for yourself after ringing him up, then unlocking the door you both stepped inside. Stepping in with him handing him back his card, you felt a surge of guilt rush over you. You stuffed it down, where the rage had made you feel so hot and panicked that you wouldn’t let it out, not till you were gone or alone anyways.

He gives you a small thanks as he heads to grab a gun and ammunition that he had with him. His voice was less scratchy now that he had spoken and you felt good allowing yourself to get away from the work place, now you were just watching someone shoot. There was no harm in keeping the place open for a little while longer, and nobody else was here. On top of that, you had made money from him so your manager should have no reason to argue it, if he were to ever find out.

He sat in his station and began to load his pistol, the smaller gun of choice from the wall of AK’s and other various large guns. He loaded it calmly with precision beyond what you had seen from watching anyone else. He motioned a thumbs up to you, signaling that he was ready to shoot, as you moved up the thick paper person cut out. He flattens him hand in a motion to stop, the distance was quite far from him, you supposed he was trying to practice his long range.

BANG.

He dropped the gun to his side, looking at the small paper from where he was, very focused. After a moment, he gave you a look and a head turn as you brought the paper closer into view. He had five shots that would have easily killed, placed around the cutout’s skull, one of them being practically dead between the eyes. You couldn’t help but come closer for a better look, taking off one earmuff to hear him.

‘Well, it looks like you know what you’re doing…’ You still looked dumbfounded at the paper cut out when he turned to you.

‘Would you like to do another one?’ You mutter out, as he looked at you, his eyes bouncing between one or the other when he responded.

‘Sure, thanks.’ You both spent another twenty or so minutes, setting new targets to practice as you sat watching him shoot effortlessly. You were caught off guard when he spoke to you again.

‘You really haven’t shot before?’ He didn’t look at you as if he were mocking you, but as if he was genuinely curious.

‘No, I didn’t really expect to land this job.’ You looked away sheepishly as you were embarrassed yet again, you could feel your cheeks getting flush. You sat up straight when you realized this meant he had heard the conversation your boss had been spitting at you, you felt the need to continue.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to, I just don’t have the money for a coach and don’t want to bother anyone on the range.’ You were fiddling with the buttons on the remote when he walked over to you and spoke.

‘You should know how to, even if it’s just for your own safety.’ His voice had taken a more stern tone as you looked up to him he went on.

‘Working here, you never know who you could run into and how you may have to protect yourself.’ He headed towards the rack of guns to replace the AK he had been holding as he spoke.

You decided that he was right- even if it was just to protect yourself you should know how to at least load and unload a gun. You had hardly ever held a gun, let alone properly and you didn’t know the stance or- your thoughts stopped as a gleaming gun was being held out to you.

‘I can help you learn the basics.’ He looked at you with half lidded eyes as he motioned for you to grab the gun. All of a sudden you became nervous, he was far more knowledgeable about weaponry and you felt that you would be embarrassed by not really knowing anything. No. You wanted to learn, you needed to learn as well, for safety. Who would be a better teacher than him?

#ghost x reader #books #cod fanfic #call of duty fanart #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost x you #cod #cod x reader #cod x y/n #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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mistystepmoonbeam · 23 hours

Text

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 12

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 12: You take a walk through the cellar in the blighted village. When the others catch up you say something that freaks out Astarion.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: I was undecided if I wanted to post this >.> But what the hells.

You’re on your own, now. Just for a bit, thanks to Wyll convincing Tav you don’t need to be watched at all times. And with no more goblins between you and camp you’re able to be left alone to sort out…yourself, you guess.

You didn’t throw up again after leaving Ethel’s, but you may have done some crying as you walked in circles around the forest by the village. If it wasn’t for having to face the others you’d have run back to camp, pulled scratch into your tent and bawled your eyes out.

Though you promised to go back to camp you find yourself in the blighted village. You can't read the sign at the entrance but you know it says Moonhaven, and you try to memorise what you think the letters might be.

A little stop can’t hurt, you think. Anything to avoid a conversation about what happened. And you can collect the herbs that are in the cellar, along with anything else that might be useful. You take a small swig of the health potion to get the taste of bile out of your mouth and then stash it into your bag, since it’s now nearly empty after leaving your personal hoard at camp, and head down into the cellar. Whatever objects had been clinking in there remain a mystery–you still haven’t looked inside and won’t even as you add more to the pack.

As much as you had wanted to abandon your staff you took it with you. Necromancy or not, it could bludgeon someone should the need arise. And apparently it can cast light in a small radius around you because it does just that when you make it to the bottom of the ladder.

With a slight purple tint, the staff lets out an eerie glow giving you just enough light to see by. There’s a small buzz of energy through your body that you assume is the Weave. Not wanting to question things anymore, you get to work prying open the barrels and crates and find the herbs you’re there for. You circle around and pick up a couple health potions, a couple mystery potions to be identified later, and find the hidden lever. You hesitate before pushing it down, but curiosity gets the better of you in the end. You watch the shelves move and step into the secret cave.

Now that you’re aware of the phantom limb and what it has been reaching for, you can feel the dead weigh on your mind. You know where they are, kind of in the same way you could navigate your room in the dark. They’re permanent objects stuck in place, and should you so desire, you can reach out and move them.

“I guess I’m a necromancer,” you mutter as you pluck a bone cap out of the ground. “Awesome. Couldn’t be a wizard or a sorcerer or…wait, am I one of those?”

Wyll seemed to make it sound like a necromancer was separate, but it kind of was a subcategory of wizard.

You straighten and keep moving, turning the corner and finding the cavern. You ignore everything there and head for the mirror that waits beyond the wooden planks.

When you step up to it the staff's eyes glow violet again, and the mirror slides open. You sigh. “Necromancer it is, then.”

But…maybe there’s a clue to your identity in this place if you’re powerful or rich enough? You move inside and find the lab on the right, the paperwork scattered about, and logbooks. Or you assume they’re the logbooks—you can’t read, after all. Instead of flipping through them you head to the exit and find the rusty key on the shelves. Soon enough you’re standing before the first trap that lights the braziers, and risk the step. The room is filled with light as the fires blaze to life.

The Necromancy of Thay is just beyond the barred door, and this time you can hear it. It whispers to you, quiet little voices that speak in a language you don’t know. They’re distant, but like with the bodies of the dead you know where the book is.

It takes some strength to push the rusty key into the padlock on the door, and with some force you manage to turn it. The whispers quiet.

“A well hidden laboratory, wonder what it’s doing down here?”

You turn to find Tav, Wyll and Astarion walking into the lab. He still has both eyes, at least. After he outed Astarion you thought he might take the hag’s deal.

“How did you find this place?” you ask.

He only offers you a shrug, eyes darting around the lab in search of loot.

You relent, “I found the hatch and started looking around.”

Tav smiles and rests his hands on the back of his head. Maybe he’s just happy you aren’t ignoring him again, or running away. By the way his tail flicks at the air you think that might be it, and the reason he’s being quieter than usual.

“I followed your tracks,” Wyll reveals. Well, he did hunt down all sorts of beings as the Blade of Frontiers. “What have you found?”

“Creepy book,” you reply. They approach you, surveying the book and everything else in the small cage.

“Trapped, most likely,” Astarion says. He steps forward carefully and does something to the stand the book is on. It’s so quick you don’t have time to peer around him and get a good look at what “disarm trap” really looks like.

Astarion picks up the book, turning it in his hands. They begin to discuss what it could be when you remember the bracers that are down here. You slip away without a thought and find the nearby gilded chest, poking it before opening it. There are traps here, who knows what else could be rigged to explode?

When you open the chest you feel a wave of magic—Weave—come from it. It’s different from the warmth of the healing magic, somehow sharper, more demanding. You pull the bracers out and put them in your bag, nearly overflowing with loot now.

You turn to rejoin the group only to nearly run into Astarion on the level below you. You stumble back and catch yourself. “I think Shadowheart was right about putting a bell on you.”

He gives you a smirk, genuine, your surprise. A thought occurs but rather than ask it you bite the inside of your right cheek.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks. You don’t know what he’s referring to, considering the amount of surprises you’ve had lately. He goes on, waving one hand in the air. “Filthy rich, can’t read, enchanted clothing, and now, a necromancer.”

“To be fair, I don’t know anything about all of that.” You try not to sigh too hard thinking of what Auntie Ethel had said.

“I wonder what other secrets that little head holds…” he muses. It’s more to himself than you. “And you killed on my behalf, I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know, that’s what makes it all the more entertaining. You, the picture of innocence, murdered a man for a vampire spawn. Ha!”

You furrow your brow, unsure how you could be considered the picture of innocence. But maybe that was only compared to those Astarion knew. It was your first murder…and only murder! Not first. Just the one, and only, murder.

Yes, you are rather innocent in the terms of this world.

Astarion pinches your cheek between two fingers, bringing you back to the conversation. “Don’t think this makes us even.”

“Okay,” you say when he lets go. You rub at where he’d pinched, shocked he touched you so casually. And not just that…his fingers are warm. “Uhm…”

Astarion quirks a brow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question? About being a vampire.”

He leans his weight into one foot, crossing his arms as he eyes you warily. “I suppose.”

“Why are you warm? Shouldn’t you be, like, cold? Or room temperature?”

Astarion, for all his acting, is easy to read. His eyes widen as he steps back, arms uncrossing and held out before him like he’s trying to catch his balance. “What did you say?”

“Sorry, is that rude?” You shift on your heels. “I just thought vampires would be cold, with the…being dead, and all.”

“We are,” Astarion confirms, voice grim.

“But your skin is warm.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

“I literally just had your hand on my cheek. You’re warm.”

“I think I know what temperature my own body is!” Astarion huffs and walks away. You notice the bag that rests on his back has the weight of the book within.

You move down the steps as he paces, annoyed. ��

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Tav asks.

You answer, “I asked him why—”

But you don’t get to finish it because Astarion wraps one hand over your mouth and the other on the back of your head, successfully silencing you. He says, “Nothing! Nothing at all. Just discussing what reward I might offer for valiantly saving me from a monster hunter.”

You roll your eyes. But having his skin on yours again confirms his heat. He feels like a living, breathing human. Why did that freak him out? When he releases you he gives you a hard stare that’s easy to understand. Shut. Up.

Wyll and Tav watch you, waiting to see what you say but you just shrug. “It’s not that important.”

Wyll frowns, but lets it go. For now. Tav bites into his bottom lip but keeps silent.

Astarion’s words remind you of something you’d like to forget. The Gur. You can’t even recall his name right now. Maybe you should have tried harder to keep Astarion away, or convinced them to not go there at all. But you didn’t, and there was no reset now.

You watch Tav flit about the basement collecting loot. It does little to help your mood, but at the very least you take comfort in the fact that they didn’t call you a monster for what you did. You promise to keep better watch of those chords in your head, the little phantom strings that connect to the dead around you. Because avoiding the dead is an impossible task, at least as long as you travel with Tav and everyone.

When you return to the surface the others are waiting by the well. You spot your bag of gold on Gale’s shoulder and hurry to take it from him, but he holds up his hands to stop you. “What kind of man would I be if I let an injured person carry so much weight?”

You’re about to argue but think better of it when the world sways a little. You manage to stay still, probably, and thank him instead.

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling the magic bracers from your other pack. “I thought you might want these.”

Gale takes the bracers. It’s then that you notice the bags under his eyes are especially dark—and you realize he hasn’t told anyone about his condition. As far as you know. The little lines that travel up the side of his neck and towards his left eye are darker, too.

Your thumbnail scratches at your staff as you wait for him to say something. Anything. Literally anything would be good right now because it’s been ten whole seconds of him staring at the bracers and that’s long enough of him being silent that the others are now looking.

“Gale?” Tav asks.

It jolts him out of his stupor. “Yes? Oh, yes.” He looks at you. “Thank you. Perhaps there’s something I must admit…”

Gale goes through his first speech about the orb, and then his second. It’s a lot to take in in one go, if you haven’t heard it all before. At the end he says, “I understand if you want to part ways—this orb, for lack of a better word, is immensely dangerous.”

Tav asks, “Why?”

All eyes turn to him, his head tilted with a smile on his face.

“Because I could explode,” Gale says slowly.

“So?” Tav points to each companion as he adds, “Shar worshipper, warlock turned devil, angry githyanki, infernal engine that could explode, vampire, necromancer with memory loss, and I’m sorry Halsin we’ve barely just met, but…uh, old?”

There are worse things to be said, about all of you.

“Plus we’ve all got worms in our heads,” Karlach says. “Oh, well except for…”

Gale lets out a small laugh. “Thank you. All of you. Now, even I’m getting tired of my own voice so shall we get going?”

The group begins their journey back to the goblin camp.

“I am not angry,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost a hiss. “At least not at any of you. The mindflayers, however…”

Halsin walks next to her, asking questions about the tadpoles and their magic, while Astarion and Wyll follow, then Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav. You and Gale are last to leave the village.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Gale asks.

You hesitate too long before answering. “No.”

“You are a terrible liar.” He keeps his voice low as you walk, putting the bracers on his wrists. “But I consider that a good thing.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. They seem to consider your knowledge to be some kind of deadly premonition, so maybe you should lean into that. “I can’t really explain it.”

Gale smiles but it’s weak.

“We’ll find lots of stuff for you to eat,” you assure him. “Or absorb, I mean. Like those!”

You point at the bracers. He holds them closer to where you know the orb is tattooed on his chest, breathing deeply.

“And if we can’t find anything there’s always my boots, or coat.”

“You would offer me those?” Gale looks you up and down like he had when you’d first met.

You shrug. “Of course. Oh, do you need them now? Because I just need to sit down to get them—”

You lift a foot as you walk, nearly stumbling to the ground when Gale stops you. “No, no, I’m fine for now. I am just—very grateful to have such a generous companion.”

“It’s not really generosity if it’s something you need though,” you argue.

Gale smiles gently but moves on. “So what’s this I hear about you being a necromancer?”

Whatever emotion crosses your face makes him pull back and try to change the subject. Regret, maybe, or pain. You can’t focus on controlling your features with so much going on. “I don’t want to be…that. I can feel…I can feel where they are—like something is dragging behind me. It’s heavy, but easy. I don’t want it to be easy.”

“Just because something comes easily to you doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

You look up at him, unaware your gaze has been on the ground this whole time. “But I did it by accident. I can’t—I can’t exactly control it.”

“That’s no problem to learn,” Gale says, as if moving the dead was no harder than riding a bike. “Learn to control it, and don’t use it. Though if you can move a boar in your sleep you must have some considerably…powerful benefactors in Baldur’s Gate to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he says, “but if you can use magic without the intent, without the movements or incantations, then you hold a great power. And that is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the wealthy elite.”

Chosen. Like Gale had once been of Mystra you too could be the preferred mortal of a god.

“Meaning there may be some unhappy people if I don’t use magic.”

“It’s only one possibility of many,” Gale assures you. “And until we know more I am happy to help you control your magic. I’m told I’m an excellent teacher.”

You twirl the staff between your fingers and laugh. “It would be an honour to learn from you.”

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid @troutberryspoon @betwixttheweave @the-pale-elfs-love

#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #reborn into bg3 #astarion x reader #tav x reader ???#I keep forgetting about the staff to be honest #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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calaisreno · 1 day

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Let Me Have This

1554 words / Prompt: Do-Over

She’s determined to take it all away from him. Every damn thing. All the little things.

He wonders why he didn’t notice it happening. The little smirks when she reads his blog. The comments when he mentions Sherlock, insignificant but biting. It’s been systematic, and he’s let it happen.

None of it seemed worth arguing about. When he met her, he’d already mourned and tried so many times to put it away, to think of it as something that he would endure. Something terrible, but that’s how life is, the good and the bad, and you still have to go on living. He survived.

So he hadn’t argued; that would have taken too much energy, and he never had enough of that in those days.

She’d been wonderful, really, at the beginning. She’d gone to the grave with him, stood by him, let him mourn. She’d been patient, lovingly patient, urging him back into life.

“Are you never going to eat Thai food again?” she would ask.

Or: “Why do you keep this old jumper with the burn holes? It’s unwearable.”

Or: “We don’t need to take the newspaper. You can read it online.”

And gradually, she had replaced every damn thing with a new thing. New jumpers, Korean food. A different brand of tea. Romantic films. Different news programs.

Even his old, stained mug. “It was chipped,” she said.

None of it was unreasonable, taken as individual actions. But all together it made his old life seem flawed, as if he hadn’t done anything right until he met her.

He did notice. But he’d thought she was something good in his life, a new beginning, a person who knew what she wanted. It was flattering to be pursued.

Every relationship requires a partner who gives in, who is the more reasonable one, the one who lets things go. He saw that in his parents, his mother headstrong and insistent, his father calm and accepting. Yes, dear.

That was how they were, before. Sherlock led, John followed. Sherlock had strops and broke crockery and said awful things sometimes, and John smoothed it all over. Or when he finally couldn’t, he would have his own strop, tell Sherlock to stop—

You machine.

He hadn’t seen that coming, either. His role was reining Sherlock in, pulling him back from the edge. That’s what he’d thought was happening. As it turns out, he was wrong.

Maybe that’s why he can’t be the one to say, Stop it. Let me have this.

He doesn’t deserve a life now because he didn’t protect Sherlock when it really mattered. He let him go over the edge, fall—

Mary is a do-over. He was punishing himself, and she appeared, offering him a chance at something better. Letting himself be loved, cared for. She’s competent, not nostalgic.

It’s an insidious trap, a carefully laid one. Where she could have let him mourn, let him remember who he was when he loved Sherlock— she has tried to reshape all his memories. Sherlock was a child, she seems to say; you were a fool to make yourself responsible for him. He had you under his thumb because he really was a sociopath. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. I’m the best thing that could have happened to you.

And now, she’s taken the last thing.

I like him. She said that in the cab, coming home. Home, to the flat she picked out and decorated, where there isn’t even one tiny piece of John Watson.

She’d seen his anger, his grief. She’d been outraged, on his behalf. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? His anger was right. She’d affirmed it.

But afterwards she smiled like the cat who got the cream. As if it had all gone according to plan. She likes Sherlock. She’s going to talk him around. And once again, John will be the unreasonable one.

And he sees how it will go. She’ll take credit for bringing them back together. It will be the three of them now. And of the two of them, Sherlock will find Mary the more interesting one, the one who really gets him. They will bond, and John will be the one they joke about. The third wheel. Poor John. He can see her tagging along on cases, texting Sherlock, giggling with him about private jokes.

She’ll let him have Sherlock, as long as it’s clear that she owns John now.

Let me have this.

If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it back. He’s going to have to say no to Mary, if he wants Sherlock back. He’s still angry, but now that he sees what’s happening, he can’t unsee it. He’ll never be happy in the life she’s prepared for him, free from all the clutter and disarray of life with Sherlock. She’ll keep him in their tidy flat and let him out to go play with Sherlock. And if he ever starts to crave that life again, she’ll find a way to separate him from it.

It’s after midnight and he’s standing outside of 221B. He’s already mentally rehearsed several versions of an apology when his phone buzzes.

Are you coming up? SH

He smiles.

Oscillation on the pavement. An affaire de coeur? SH

Sherlock still signs his texts, and this is oddly comforting. At least something hasn’t changed.

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the last time he went out and closed the door behind him, never to return. He’s been back once to see Mrs Hudson, but never up these stairs.

The door is open, and he stands on the threshold, taking in everything that two years haven’t changed. The flat looks just as it did on the last day he stood here. It’s like time travel.

But he’s still Future John, the one who grieved, who hit his best friend when he returned as John had begged him to do. The one with regrets.

And Sherlock is different too. He stands at the window, looking down at the street as if he’s expecting someone. His posture is taut, careful.

“I hope… I’m not intruding.”

Sherlock turns and faces him. The split lip has healed, but there is caution in those grey eyes. John never wants to see that look again, not directed at him.

“Come in, John.”

He does, glancing at his old chair, then staring at his own feet, words having deserted him. Sherlock gestures for him to sit, but he feels like a guest in what used to be his home, and it’s painful. He remains standing.

“Something is wrong,” Sherlock says. “You’ve quarrelled with Mary.”

“No.” He closes his eyes. “She’s fine. It’s me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sherlock steps closer, cocking his head and silently deducing him. “A mistake?”

I’ve proposed to a woman I don’t know because I couldn’t go on without you. I hit my best friend because I couldn’t bear…

He looks up at Sherlock, tears filling his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

The look on Sherlock’s face is surprise. “John, you need not apologise. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me. I should not have approached you as I did.”

“Can we… just…” He sniffs. “Could we pretend that the last few days haven’t happened yet? You’re back, and I’m—”

“You’re asking for… I believe it’s called a do over?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Sherlock smiles. “Where do we begin?”

“Let’s say I’m not at dinner, not proposing to Mary. You’re not wearing a silly fake moustache—”

“You’ve shaved yours off.”

“Yeah, you were right. So. I don’t have a moustache, and I’ve come over to have a look up here, because… I’m about to take a step that feels irrevocable, one I wouldn’t be taking if you were alive.”

Now Sherlock looks puzzled, but he doesn’t speak.

“My therapist has been bugging me to say something… to you. Something I wished I’d said… before. And I couldn’t say after. But I need to say now.”

Lips parted, Sherlock is frowning. “Say… what?”

He closes his eyes. “You were the best. The best person I’ve known. The best friend. You saved my life, gave meaning to what was left of it. And I… I love you. I don’t care that you were married to your work, or that you despise sentiment. I love you, and I wish I’d said it before.”

Laying a hand on Sherlock’s heart, he feels it beating, alive. “I want to come back. Come home. Live with you.”

“But… Mary?”

“A mistake. And you’ve just given me the impossible. The thing I asked for. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sherlock is silent. He stares over John’s shoulder, blinking as if that genius brain has gone offline.

“Sherlock?”

The pale eyes focus on him. “You want to come home? Here? You love me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t—”

“Just to be clear, when you say love —”

John puts his arms around him. “This.”

As he looks up, expecting to see Sherlock frowning, the most extraordinary thing happens.

There are tears in Sherlock’s eyes, and he’s about to—

When the kiss ends, Sherlock holds him pressed against his chest. “Just to be clear,” he says. “I love you too.”

Posted on AO3 here.

#mayprompts2024 #Do-over

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rottiens · 3 days

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BITTERSWEET┊KENJAKU (FAKE GETŌ)

Contents. Suggestive, dirty talk, mouth inspection, he places his hand on your neck in a suggestive way (however he does not squeeze), canon au. Descriptions used for the reader: supersetitious, female-bodied reader, she/her pronouns, the reader is described as an average sorcerer, the reader is shoko's student. The reader wears a skirt. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Notes: I've been wanting to find an excuse to write mouth inspection with kenjaku for a long time, heh. So I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

wc. 2.9k

Today was one of those nights where you feel that something might happen, something not ordinary, something different from the same routine you have been following for the last ten months.

If Shoko were here she would call you superstitious— and you were. Though not so much anymore after you met your black cat, Sapphire, and realized that nothing catastrophic happened when he brushed his soft sheep wool-like fur between your legs or when you took him for a walk and both you and Sapphire stepped on the curb lines... no pianos were falling from the sky and you weren't having a bad day, so maybe bad luck was just in your head after all. As was the feeling that something bad would happen soon.

Though the thought is hard to let go when the actual scene looks like something out of a horror movie. A lonely girl walking through the streets to her apartment after a day's work.

It was in the air, you feel it heavy as you inhale, almost as if you were swallowing fog, you feel it in the dry leaves of the trees and their old branches that look like hands and rise above your head, you fear they will hover over you and drag you with them under the ground.

You shake your head, throwing that other image away from you.

Maybe you weren't that talented compared to your other comrades but you knew how to defend yourself well enough if someone appeared between the alleys to try to attack you, even though your focus is more on medicine and the study you are conducting together with Shoko: "The importance of healing others through reversed cursed energy." You know how to fight hand-to-hand if necessary.

As you climb the stairs you think to yourself that you should change your thesis topic to a shorter one before you present it and have it thrown in your face, maybe that way they will agree to fund your research this time, after all, the higher ups are not so interested in how to help others heal through cursed energy but rather in seeing how they can find and train and possibly manipulate, one of their minions.

With a polite smile and your gloved fingers making an amused motion you greet your neighbor, tall, thin, always wearing a cap that covers part of his face; in a way he reminds you of Satoru if not for the sinister smile he always wears as if it had been carved into his face before he was born.

You insert the key into the knob and in two twists of your wrist you are inside the comfort of your apartment. Everything is the same as you left it, an unfinished cup of coffee on the shelf next to the door and the closed windows you haven't opened in days makes the dust accumulate faster and you have a theory that's why you've been sneezing so much these days, red, watery eyes and an incredibly annoying nose full of water— it must be that, the dust, and not the hairs Sapphire drops on your clothes, of course.

Even in the safety of your apartment you feel watched, that unsettling feeling that the walls have eyes following you everywhere. You feel someone's cold eyes boring into the back of your head as you head to the kitchen and then when you open the fridge to grab a bottle of water, just before you swallow, you turn around hurriedly with your hands at chest level along with the bottle pointed away from you simulating a gun.

No one is there as expected, you find yourself pointing down the silent hallway with a bottle of water dripping on the floor, as if it will actually protect you from something and you feel like a fool. You exhale, and laugh putting the bottle down, finally relaxing your shoulders.

You are at home. Nothing bad could happen to you there.

"It's fun to see you scared, but I'm already bored of playing."

Your body recognizes the voice before your ears do. Your feet turn on their heels again raising the bottle causing a large amount of water to wet your shoes, part of your long skirt and finally the floor. Seeing him in front of you the shock causes you to squeeze the bottle from the sides and a larger puddle forms on your feet. You want to run away, but you are afraid that if you do you will fall into the mess you created.

You're used to seeing him in the school conference room, two pictures pinned with red pins on the board so along with his information and everything you need to know about him to run or fight depending on your grade as a sorceress.

You had to run away. Knees failing, bile rising in your stomach and burning in your throat, you force yourself to swallow it like a fat pill for your headaches and trot off to feign bravery.

"Suguru Geto."

He smiles instantly and you remember that smile as familiar..., it's identical to your neighbor's.

"Did you miss me?" Suguru doesn't move a muscle past his eyes scanning you up and down and you think he can read your thoughts so you look away from him because maybe then you can stop him from seeing inside you and how scared you are.

Suguru looks the same, talks the same, dresses the same. However there is something strange and different about him and it's not just that unusual mark on his forehead. At the thought you return to him, the devilish grin has warped into a straight line, there was no longer that funny grimace on his features now it has been replaced by an expression you can't read. Taking a second look at the scar, you realize that they are threads keeping the skin on his forehead bound and tight.

"I've come for something you have and it belongs to me."

There is raw doubt showing on your face through your drawn together eyebrows and pursed lips that, after a moment, split into realization. Suguru waits for you, as understanding as you remember.

This time you notice his body leaning slightly over yours, his height towering over yours in an almost friendly way, the way an adult would with a child he's trying to sweetly explain something to... but none of this made sense.

"I should report you..." Your mouth filters your thoughts without giving you time to process it, then something changes on his face, something as minimal as the curvature of his eyebrow coming back into place in a blink and brief wrinkles forming at the edges of his lips.

In an act of bravery you turn on your heels and pick up the knife that is resting on the countertop, still dirty from the peanut butter you used to prepare your sandwich this morning, all around, the ants that joined to worship it just like a god flee in terror as soon as you take it with you in a vain attempt to defend yourself since his left hand maneuvers and pushes you against the hardness of the countertop disarming you even before you can act.

Your cheek smashes into the concrete and you are sure something has broken in your jaw. Groaning in pain, you struggle to free yourself as your hands have been tied behind your lower back.

Suguru snorts in the shell of your ear, warm and gentle, just like the autumn breeze.

"Okay. I can see why this body won't stop reminding you. It's annoying." You grind your teeth and struggle for your freedom until you realize you're not going to get it and you're just wasting strength, so you decide to come up with a better plan this time. You look up in front of you to see what you can do to free yourself, you only find the ants witnessing what is happening and in the background, the coffee pot and an old toaster that is losing its color. "...That's why I'm going to slowly let you go and you're going to look for it. Do you understand?"

Apparently Suguru said something you should have been paying attention to but panic, buzzing around like hornet's wings in your ears prevents you from hearing anything but the screaming in your head.

Carefully he helps you to your feet, sinking his long fingers into your forearms and gently turning you to look at him. Those eyes consume you just like flames, something hot toasts your cheeks and spreads from your nose to your neck.

Suguru smells like fresh sliced oranges, a bittersweet smell that gradually fades under the stench of ashes from something that was recently burned.

"Who are you?" you spit disdainfully, looking him up and down.

Your eyes must have been deceiving you, maybe this was nothing more than a visual technique, because you could smell his cursed energy very subtly underneath that facade, but deep down you know this is not your friend. He grabs your cheeks and presses your skin until your lips form a forced pout and even though your hands are free you stand still letting him touch you.

You should fight, spit at him, try to run. However, you stand still being consumed by guilt and deep down the desire that he is the one who is touching you again. The last you heard from Suguru was that Satoru ``killed him" no one believed him, especially after his body "accidentally" disappeared. Since he (Geto) gave no trouble and didn't show up to corroborate the rumors of the higher ups (until now), no one bothered to look for him or accuse him. But what had become of him, why is he showing up now, and what was he doing here? Oh, right, though. You already know the answer to one of those questions.

Suguru loosens his grip on your cheeks which instantly burn and ache, he then explores your lips with his thumb and your breathing becomes unsteady. Out of inertia, you open your mouth just a little, as if it's something you must do. The same finger pushes past the rim of your lips and brushes your teeth back and forth, the taste of sweaty, dirty skin overflowing in slow motion onto your palate which reacts with an overstimulation of saliva.

"Open." It's a simple, even innocent command, "Show me your mouth." The request is unusual, it fills you with chills, when you don't react to his voice, Suguru impatiently presses his thumb against your flat tongue and takes it a little deeper into the cavity of your mouth.

You force yourself not to cough even though your eyes fill with water showing your discomfort. Still, you acquiesce to the command by loosening your jaw further and showing him the box that is your mouth, teeth, fangs and a tongue stained from the tea you ingested this morning.

"Beautiful." Suguru comments, admiring you with wide eyes. "You're drooling a little." Is that condescension you hear in his voice? You can't finish processing that thought because you sense his body clinging closer to yours, slamming you painfully against the countertop, the hard concrete sinking into your ribs as you try to pull away from him but to no avail. You can only stand there and take it, as you are watched like a specimen under the magnifying glass.

His thumb finally comes out of your mouth and you rush to breathe a sigh of relief, but before you can sing victory and celebrate your freedom, the same finger drags your lower lip down, wiping the trickle of drool that escaped out of you. With the same wet finger, he moves from your chin to your neck and then there, he carefully encloses his hand in your throat. Suguru doesn't squeeze, just lets you feel the weight of his fingers, an indirect threat of the power he has over you right now.

"Who are you?" you repeat with more assurance.

Your vocal cords vibrate beneath his hand, he is trembling with excitement.

"Interesting." Again, after being ignored, his hazel eyes look you up and down warily. "It's not just me. This body is burning with desire for you too, I can barely control it." There's a smile on his face, not full but more of a lopsided smirk that creases the corner of his lips.

"I wonder if you're wet." You close your eyes so as not to roll them. His fingers leave your neck and move along your rib cage, your navel... and stop above your crotch. Then you open your eyes wide... suguru still has the same expression as before. "It's this little clit eager to be touched?" His voice is a purr, overflowing with desire on your skin and serving as an aphrodisiac that makes your pussy wet with every interaction. "You want me to fuck you here, hm? Like last time?"

You pucker your eyes and force yourself to ihnalate, to remember to breathe and ignore how hard you can feel him on your thigh. It's ridiculously thick, rocking innocently on you and filling you with inappropriate thoughts.

"You need to leave."

He clicks his tongue and makes the lightest of thrusts into your crotch which is enough to have you hunching your back, barely hiding your face in his chest. "Do I really need to?"

You sigh. Almost pained. ".. yeah."

You are more interesting than he thought.

Suguru moves away taking a short step back and your feet forget how to stand causing your knees to buckle a little.

"Give me what belongs to me and I'll leave."

You nod, still with your head in the clouds. Your fingers sink into the countertop using it as a cane to prop your body upright and help you steady yourself again.

"Wait here." You're sure there's something strange about him, whether or not it's the suguru you met your soul couldn't tell him apart so now what you need to do is get away from him, kick him out of your house and come up with a plan that will allow you to call satoru as soon as possible....

"I'll go with you."

You look over your shoulder to find him following you down the dimly lit hallway, hands inside the sleeves of his robe and footsteps inaudible unlike your own. You turn your eyes to the front, you don't want to fight or argue so you let him follow you in silence until you reach your room, scenes and ways to escape cross in front of your eyes like a lived dream, unfortunately in none of them do you manage to escape or fight and emerge victorious.

"You redecorated," Suguru comments, admiring your room. Rolling his eyes over the books you have on the bookshelf in the back, touching with his fingertips the desk where you normally sit to write on it in your journal... journal that was right there in the corner, one blue pen down.

You get on all fours on the floor and look under the bed until you get a small black box, a little bigger than one that would hold an engagement ring. Then you get up and push it into his chest without looking at him, without asking questions, but his fingers cling firmly to your jaw and make you look at him.

The last time he was here was years ago. It's overwhelming to have him in front of you in the flesh, there are so many things you want to say, to ask... but you'd rather keep quiet. You notice him looking at your lips undisguised, somewhat still sore from the earlier stimulation in the kitchen.

"Suguru..."

"Come with me."

You know it's the devil's proposition. You know what's going to happen to you if the old men find out he was even here. You slowly lower his hand away from you and he lets you, and instantly your gaze flees again; this time to the way your hands are joined against each other and a knot of longing ties your gut.

"You should go."

"I'm coming back with a proposition," he replies instantly.

You ignore him. Summoning up the courage to look him in the eye and ask the obvious.

"What do you plan to do with that?"

That. The finger that was ripped from an ancient curse in some period of sorcery. A simple index finger that holds so much power that sometimes you feel it vibrate and emanate in waves under your bed, waking you up in the wee hours of the morning. You shouldn't have it, you should have handed it over some time ago, otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation now.

Suguru leans over you and kisses your forehead. As lovely as he has always done, and you close your eyes at the contact wishing you could hold on to this moment forever.

Without a word, he pulls away again. Just like before. He walks to your window, pulls the curtains aside and looks out. Without another word or even turning to look at you one last time, he climbs up to the window frame and from there he jumps out into the void. You turn just in time to see him disappear away from you into the sky on a huge bird with white wings and an unusual beak that at first glance looked like a distant relative of the dinosaurs.

You are sure he would come back again and this time you would be waiting for him. After all, he promised.

#wr #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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janus-cadet · 2 days

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Thoroughly enjoyed the two last Doctor Who episode, especially the Devil's chord. II already knew I was going to adore Maestro, but nothing could have prepare me for how much they served.

So, yes, here they are, joining their father on the Tarot Project, as the Nine of Pentacles!

I'm actually really happy with how it turned out! Now, under the cut, you'll find a quick explanation for the choice of card, and all of the other Doctor Who cards I've done so far!

Now, Maestro do not fit the card as such- not only is it starting to get a bit hard to find corresponding cards (I mean, I've done 50 already-), but they are also a complex character who is not grounded in a reality easily translated in the official cards. But Maestro is also the embodiment of music, and the Nine of Pentacles is the one that fit the most, to me, the vibe they are giving. You see, the Nine of Pentacles is a card centered around abundance. It's in fact the bringer of said abundance, as well as the enjoyer: you brought it to your life, and now, you get to enjoy the fruit of your labour. It reminded me of the way Maestro brought this over excitement, over abundance of music, in their first appearance- to steal it for themself, true! But then, to enjoy it, to lounge in it. Refering to them as they lounge on the piano, listening to the sound of a nuclear winter, like a cat that got the milk. There is abundance, luxury in the concept of Music, something that can express anything and everything; and they definitely aim to delight in it.

Other than that, it's also a card meant for someone taking their independence, going solo; perhaps someone cutting tie with a problematic family member, or learning to live on their own, supporting themself. The Nine of Pentacles is also a card for someone who is, as it is, in harmony with the world around them- quite literally, in Maestro's case. You take on what's around you, and can harness the energy of nature to bring pleasure in your life. Let's just hope that you'll refrain from doing so by completely stealing music from everyone else.

I really, really hope we'll get more of Maestro in the time to come, tho. I would pay so much money to get to learn more about their backstroy, their relatonship with the Toymaker, as bad as it obviously was. I don't know, I'm definitely fascinated by this new Pantheon, for damn sure!

Now, to conclude, a plethora of Doctor Who card, in chronological order. The first one is three years old, if you can believe that!

#tarot project #doctor who #doctor who fan art #dw fanart #dw maestro #maestro #maestro fanart #the devil's chord #jinkx monsoon #nine of pentacles

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amethystwrytes · 2 days

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-If I Had Asked-

Pairing: Jungkook x genderless reader

Genre: Romantic. Hurt. Comfort. Fluff. Exes to lovers. Oneshot.

Summary: Jungkook wants to catch up at a mutual friends birthday party.

Warnings: Language. Alcohol consumption and marijuana use.

Inspired by this prompt.

WC: 1.5K

Jungkook weaves in and out of the throng of people in the small apartment. Seokjin had insisted on a small party, but as usual he’d gotten carried away and vastly overestimated the capacity of his flat.

Jungkook can pretend to be outgoing, a crowd lover, if the occasion calls for it, but in truth he feels like his skin is crawling every time he brushes up against a stranger. Normally he would’ve left after wishing his elder a happy birthday and leaving his present, a compilation book of Marvels 100 best comics, on the counter.

However, he has it on good authority that Seokjin invited you here tonight, and that you’d said yes.

Jungkook hasn’t seen you since you packed your shit and left his apartment over a year ago. You hadn’t been the least bit unserious when you told him you were done, you really had been. It took Jungkook a long time to realize that he probably should’ve gone after you. Too long. By the time it had occurred to him, six months had passed, you were seeing someone else, and his window had closed.

He was immature with you, and maybe a year doesn’t make anyone wiser, but he’s learned a lot since then. Like how prioritizing everything over you because he just assumed you’d always be around was his biggest mistake.

His third circle of Jins apartment has him wondering if Namjoon had been wrong - you actually had no plans to come. Then he hears it. He would know your laugh in any universe. If he were in a coma he’d still hear it. It makes his heart ache.

You’re out on the terrace. A vodka cranberry, that’s probably more cranberry than anything, in one hand, a joint in the other. You’re chatting with Jimin, probably catching up, but like an invisible string is tethered, you turn your head and make eye contact with Jungkook through the glass. He see's you tense up for just a second, then you turn back to Jimin, looking like you're about to make a quick exit.

He can't have that.

Jungkook shimmies through the crowd and slides through the door. Jimin notices the change in the very air out on the terrace.

"Jungkook, long time no see," he says, trying to keep it light and charming, but the thick cloud of awkward is expanding by the second.

You look over the terrace out into the darkness, taking a long drag off the joint and blowing it into the air.

"Yeah," Jungkook shrugs, "I've been working a lot, not really had the energy for hanging out."

"For sure," Jimin nods. Then silence ensues. The noise from the party, lulled by the closed terrace door buzzes and beckons. "I'm going to go find Seokjin, see how drunk he is," Jimin jokes and the two of you offer up some forced laughter.

"Here," you say, handing him the joint, "I think I'm good."

Jimin takes it, offers it briefly to Jungkook who shakes his head no, then places it between his lips before retreating indoors like the terrace is on fire.

"Hi," Jungkook finally says.

"Hey there," you reply.

"Why is this so uncomfortable?" he laughs, taking the spot beside you to look out into the night. City lights dot the horizon like blinking stars and he focuses on one that seems to flash on and off every couple of seconds.

"I don't know," you finally answer, "I think these things are always awkward."

"What things?"

"Seeing your ex at a party for the first time since splitting," you clarify. "Though you'd think a years time would've papered over some of those cracks."

"I'm sorry," Jungkook offers, the list of things he owes you an apology for is too long though, "Sorry for letting a year go by without speaking."

"It's fine," you say flatly. "How have you been? Seeing anyone?" you mentally slap yourself for adding that last bit. That opens up a whole conversation that you'd rather not have.

"I've been fine, I guess. Kind of just going through the motions of life, really. Neutral I suppose is the best way to describe it," he says, "and no. I was seeing someone for a bit, but...I don't know. It just fizzled out as quick as it started."

"That's too bad," you say, though you don't sound the least bit interested. You take another sip of your drink and you wish you'd asked Jin for an extra shot of vodka now.

"How's Taehyung? I didn't see him tonight," Jungkook wonders, waits for your answer with bated breath.

"He uh..." you chuckle dryly looking into your cup, "He's in Japan. Took a promotion in the company but had to relocate. He asked me to go...but..."

"You didn't?" Jungkook finishes. "Why not?"

"You know how ill my grandma is," you smile sadly, "I didn't think it was a good idea to leave."

"Are they not taking good care of her at the assisted living place?"

"They are," you nod, "but still."

"So, did you guys like, break up? Or are you doing the long distance thing?" he presses.

"Is this why you came out here? To ask me if I'm still seeing Taehyung?" you wonder, not bothering to hide the confusion or irritation.

Jungkook shakes his head, "I came out here to just talk, ___. That's what I'm doing."

You sigh. "No. We're not doing the long distance thing. We decided it would be better if we ended it, well, he decided," you laugh bitterly. "Though to be fair I think it was less of a 'hard versus easy’ issue, and more of a 'he wanted to be able to fuck whomever he wanted without having to feel guilty for it' issue."

"I'm sorry," Jungkook offers genuinely.

"Why?" you snap your head over to him, "I figured you'd be pleased with that outcome. After all I basically did the same thing to you."

"You didn't dump me so you could fuck other people without feeling guilty," he reminds you, then after a long pause adds, "Right?"

You laugh. "No, that's not why I broke up with you."

"You weren't happy," he says.

"I felt like I was your parent, you treated me like someone who was supposed to cater to your every need and like my job, my dreams were second to yours. That made me unhappy. That wasn't very fair."

"No, it wasn't. I acted like that because that's what I thought a grown up relationship was, that's what I wanted it to be."

"That's unhealthy," you tell him.

"I know," he nods, "and you told me that then as well."

"You never seemed to hear me," you recall. "That's why I left."

"I know," he nods, "You weren't the villain, but I made you into one for a long time. I've always been taken care of, with my family, with my friends - I'm always the one taken care of, and it took me a long time to grow out of that. To realize that a relationship is partnership, you hear people say it all the time but it's easy to gloss over what that really means. I should've realized then, I should've heard you, but instead I just acted stupid, clueless."

"Thank you. That means a lot," you say, trying to fend off the tears.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"If I had asked, would you have stayed?" he looks at you, faces his whole body toward you so you do the same.

You think about it for a moment then shrug, "You didn't ask Jungkook. So I guess we'll never know."

You finish off your drink and turn the empty plastic cup over in your hand. "I need to go throw this away. I should really get going anyway."

He stands there defeated and nods.

"It was good seeing you Jungkook," you lay your hand on his shoulder, "Take care of yourself."

He stands there, listens as you slide the glass door, the dulled party buzzes to life, then lulls back out again, signaling you've made it inside and left him out on the terrace alone.

"Wait!" he yells, turning on his heels and pulling the heavy door. "___! Wait!"

You stop and turn towards his voice, along with the entire room. Everyone goes silent as they all look between the two of you.

"I'm asking now," he says, disregarding the audience.

You stare at him, skin hot from the gazes around the room. You rake your hand through your hair, letting it fall like a curtain around your face.

Jungkook crosses the room, eliminating the open stage that your interaction has turned into. He walks you back into a hallway that leads to Jins bedroom and bath. He backs you all the way up to the wall, his tattooed arms caging you in, shielding you from the onlookers who slowly, but surely, turn back into their own conversations.

"Are you drunk?" you ask.

"What?"

"Are you drunk?" you repeat, breathlessly.

"No," he shakes his head, "I had a coke, I have to be at work in the morning."

You nod. Your hands find purchase on his forearms and you uncage yourself, your fingertips sliding down his arm, tracing over your favorite, familiar ink, then intertwine with his.

You look up into his dark brown eyes, and smile, "Then drive me home."

#bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #romance #Jungkook x reader #writing #BTS fanfic #ignoring my current projects #trying to write through the block of cement my brain has turned into #exes to lovers #ex boyfriend Jungkook #these tags are wild af

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welcometomyoasis · 2 days

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Give your moots tropes they suits

hi anon! thanks for sending this i love moot games <3 i feel like i've done something similar before but i'll do it again :))

@brownsugarbaybee - rivals to lovers. flirty rival singers who have a lot of sexual tension between them. they probably confess out of frustration one day (kind of like kiss and make up by blackpink??)

@wonijinjin - my darling is so meet cute and friends to lovers coded so let's make it both. they have such a cute meeting one day (maybe at a coffee shop) and then they become friends and it develops from there.

@heavenfilm - 2 oblivious, curious cats who get to know each other one random day and can't get enough of each other. everyone watching is just like :/ are they dating yet?

@haecien - long distance relationship but make it set in a time before handphones and email. we've already established cien likes writing letters, so this is perfect. and then when they finally meet, make it super romantic like running from far away and leaping into each others' arms.

@wheeboo - for rania, because of her recent wonwoo fic, i'm thinking of the "you see the best in me and you teach me to love myself" trope. like someone who has been hurt before but he helps to heal her and rebuild her heart.

@slytherinshua - hyper golden retriever x black cat. zanna is really hyper and she has so much energy. i see the s/o being more calm, and just standing to the side watching her endearingly while she rambles about something she loves.

@weird-bookworm - okay. for some reason. i am thinking of barbie island princess for sky. what trope is that? lost princess who has a pure heart x prince who just falls in love with her for who she is (plus the fact she can basically talk to animals)

@babyleostuff - idk if this is a trope, but like poetry/ literature lovers who have a meet cute at a quaint, lovely little book shop. they reach for the same book and giggle when their fingers touch.

@addicsvt - okay hear me out, but i'm thinking of 2 people who have little siblings, and they meet while taking bringing their siblings to the park. and their little siblings practically set them up by saying things like "can we play house? we'll be the babies and you can be the mommy and daddy"

@justsomekpopstuff - soulmates. they meet and instantly just fall in love with each other. then they become that horribly loving, disgustingly in love couple

@starshuas - sweetheart x sweetheart couple. they are just the cutest and sweetest couple ever. they go on cute dates to the gardens, sob over sad movies together. they are very wholesome :)

@planetkiimchi - secret romance. on the surface, they are rivals in 2 different dance groups. behind the scenes, they are the most adorable couple ever

@nonononranghaee - arranged marriage. they each go into it not really believing in love but then through their marriage they find themselves learning to love.

#letters for shu ✏༝༚༝༚#shu's moots ᰔᩚ

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stawbabyfloofs · 2 days

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Caregiver Alastor Headcanons!

Tw: Cursing and mentions of Hell

I think Alastor would really prefer regressors who have a little age old enough that they can run around and be chaotic. He'd definitely fuel their energy and have all sorts of physical activities or play they can do! Bonus points if they're a high energy regressor!

He's the type of caregiver to go with the flow of whatever you want...until it's too dangerous. I think he'd be really hot and cold, like one moment he's cheering you on and then once you cross the line, he stops you right there.

"I think that's enough, darling. You should stop right there."

For this reason, he's not big on rules, he mostly just orders you on the spot and they're never written. Overall, he wouldn't have any unless you told him you wanted some.

Alastor definitely calls you his little hellspawn, darling, devil, gremlin, rascal, kiddo, and makes up little names for you

Alastor doesn't have a need or preference for any caregiver nickname. You don't have to call him one, nor does he want it, but that doesn't mean he opposes it either. He'd be okay with anything you came up with.

He doesn't mind having you in his radio tower, actually, he enjoys your company! When he's not busy, you two color up there, play games, and he'll even do shadow puppetry for you! Anything you'd want, he's down for it! But when he's busy, he makes it a rule to wear noise-cancelling headphones so you don't hear his work, but also he has pillows blocking your view or he casts his shadows to cover his work instead

This isn't because it would be too graphic, you live in hell, you're used to it, he just doesn't want you to see that side of him while regressed.

Will let you play with the radio tower's microphone, but only while it's off! He doesn't want to accidentally broadcast the things you say or some babbles/gibberish that comes out of your mouth.

He tries his best to keep you a secret for your own safety. Alastor knows he has a lot of enemies and people who would use you to force his hands, or at worst harm you, so only the main crew knows about you and your regression! Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Rosie, etc!

Alastor isn't really big on giving physical affection other than headpats and pinches. Those are his favorite to give, and he wouldn't give any others unless you particularly asked for it. He wouldn't be opposed to receiving it either, but he wouldn't go out of his way to ask for it.

Whenever you're bored, he'll do magic tricks with his powers for you to watch. You wanna see his antlers poke out? Him knock over books? You got it! Hell, he'll even corrupt part of the world around you if you'd like! If he needs a little break or is busy, he'll cast a shadow to be your playmate, or babysitter (only for a short amount of time)

He'd spawn demonic toys for you to play with as well.

If he needs you to be entertained, and or babysat a little longer, he'd prefer to hand you off to Rosie, but he's alright with giving you to Charlie and telling Husk to make sure you're safe and that she doesn't do something dumb. Charlie's always making sure your happy and safe! She's one of the best babysitters you could have, so you don't mind.

Allows you to play with his microphone staff, but only while he's watching. He's very weary to lend it out to anyone, including you, even though he knows you wouldn't do anything bad with it intentionally.

Alastor reads the best bedtime stories, he's very used to talking in a way others find entertaining, so you're no different! You'll be out like a light by the time he closes the book.

I actually think he'd be really good at pretend play. I mean like, the BEST actor around. You need him to be an angry Karen for your restaurant? He NAILED it! 5 star actor on your hands with his dicton and exaggerated mannerisms!

While at the hotel, he let's you do whatever you'd like with him. Ruffle his hair? Tug on his antlers? Climb up and crawl all over him? Bite/nom on his leg? That's fine by him! You can unleash yourself and go full gremlin on him, he'll pretend like nothings happening while he's talking to the main crew, unless they point it out.

"Oh don't mind the hell spawn, but yes I have business to take care of."

Although, outside the hotel he warns you not to do that for the sake of your safety....but mostly his reputation. He couldn't dare to let the other sinners of hell see him like that.

You know how there's a mom stare? Alastor has one for his regressor, too. A warning is when his eyes turn mostly black. When you're pushing it, his antlers peek out a little, and when you're going too far...yeah they're coming all the way out and the environment will be partially corrupted.

I don't see him as having to dish out punishments a lot with how stern he is, but if you go past that point he'll put you in timeout with telekinesis. Yes, when he says 5 minutes, he means 5 minutes in the air.

Doesn't like you watching television at all, so you have a screentime limit. Yes...I know, boring, but he can provide much better entertainment in his eyes! (He looks at TV the same way most people look at IPads for kids)

Teaches you how to be a menace and trick with others. It's free entertainment for both of you. No further explanation.

Lets you curse while regressed, and has no problem with it. It doesn't exactly encourage it, but he doesn't punish it either! He's definitely neutral, Alastor's just happy that you're communicating with him.

Will sing for you, or tell you something through a song. Did I mention he'll be dancing during it as well?

Alastor loves to tease you and play fight with you alot, he's very good at coming up with remarks or silly things to say!

"Darling, you really shouldn't pick a fight while you're awake, I'll just broadcast your snores later. Backing down now, are we?"

Can you tell I'm really into Hazbin Hotel rn?? Just binged it and I love it sm!

#agere post #sfw agere #agere community #agere blog #agere #sfw regression #fandom agere #age regressor #age regression #agere sfw #caregiver headcanons #fictional caregiver #caregiver blog #agere imagine #hazbin hotel agere #cg headcanons

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astroyongie · 23 hours

Text

BTS May Reading 2024

note: please take the readings with a grain of salt

love: His love situation is complicated at the moment. The couple is traveling into troubled waters. I think this is just a passing thing and that it will eventually stop. but at the moment things are complicated, there’s some tension and the contact isn't much.

career: I truly believe that RM doesn't want to stay in the situationship that he is currently in (when it comes to his career). he probably doesn't want to continue in that company and he might want to revise his contracts. although they didn't news for him, i believe it reached a point were the toxicity is too much for him

self: he doesn't know what he should do with his life at the moment, either it is with his family matters, with his investments, with his career or his relationship, he is walking into a troubled period where choices need to be made. but he doesn't have his head focused on these which is making things complicated for him.

Jin

love: I feel like his relationship with his person is equally going through a troubled period, although this is mostly due to Jin’s current situationship (military) which is not allowing him to take care of things. His partner probably wants him to focus on the relationship but jin has a hard time letting go of his career

career: talking about his career, there’s a lot coming for Jin the moment he comes out of his service. I believe that he will release a single and an album a few months after he comes back to active idol status.

self: he is fine overall, his ehealth is doing well and he isn't troubled with much things other than his love relationship. he is happy and healthy

Suga

love: I believe that he is currently dating someone. This doesn't feel like an idol but with someone that works inside the music/media industry and who has a very high/important status. I feel like they are close (they probably participated a lot on Suga’s latest projects).

career: he is super happy with everything that is happening on his life. his life in the military is going super well, better than what he was expecting (he ain't doing much to be honest) and he is also eager to come back because he has many projects that need to be concluded as soon as he finishes his service.

self: Despite all, i think he is also the type that struggles a lot with his mental health and he sometimes has high and lows that can be quite extreme. at the moment it feels like he is coming out of a low period and slowly shifting to his higher self

J-Hope

love: still dating the same person as ever and the relationship seems to be going particularly well. jhope and his partner are moving with their couple, they have a god relationship and a great connection as well

career: things are a little complicated when it comes to his career situations. I believe that ever since he got into the military, he has lost a few friends inside the industry. Furthermore, I believe that he also probably wants to change something about his career (the group? the company? that a question without answer)

self: he has been a little bit bitchy or at least people around him might find that he has been low in energy and in a foul mood lately. this is probably because he has a lot on his mind or also because he can give the energy of being slightly arrogant with certain people

Jimin

love: like i said on the podcast, he isn’t dating anyone however, Jimin has a lot of people he sees in an non official way. He has several people interested in him, either idols or non idols and honestly he is just having fun with whatever comes his way

career: i see something shifting for him as well. I don't think that Jimin is aware of the consequences or the changes that are happening behind the scenes, on his contract. there’s the chances that a lot of things will change once he gets out of the military

self: his mental health hasn’t been good lately. his head feels in the clouds, he probably has a lot of sleeping troubles and he doesn't find much peace once the sun sets down. he needs to take care more of his inner self

love: V is currently dating. Everything seems to be going well, since his relationship with his partner is strong and reliable. They don't see each other much due to their own schedules, but despite that things seem to be doing well.

career: he is super disappointed with the things he has learned about the industry but at the same time he isn't surprised. He is probably pondering what he should do next, once his service is finished. a lot on his mind concerning his career

self: there’s a lot going on inside his mind. He often feels overwhelmed with emotions or with the things that happened in his life overall. He has had a hard time managing his inner feelings but it's not something one should worry too much about.

Jungkook

love: i honestly can’t understand his current situation. there's two possibilities. Either he is with someone but he has no feelings for them and he is completely uninterested by them. Or, he isn't in a relationship but he sees this person often. He has feelings for them but doesn't want to commit due to his status.

career: just like the rest of the members, i feel like there’s a big shift that is going to happen when it comes to their contract or their career in general. For Jungkook, I see his name being used in either scandal or a rumor, or just something happening involving him directly.

self: his energy is a little bit chaotic. Lately he has been using a lot of his influence and of his power to get his way through the military. He needs to be careful because people can see him as rude.

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