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yanderenightmare · 3 months

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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, violence/abuse, threat of bodily harm

gn reader

Thinking about poly yanderes again…

They’re both so patronizing – suffocatingly so.

But where one is a brute, the other is sweet – or sweeter than the former, in any case...

He has a certain calm about him – gentle with you – considerate when showing his affection, and patient with you when he’s intimate. He doesn’t growl at you to shut up and lie still the way the other one does – instead, he asks you if you can be good for him – if you can let him love you – lipping at your throat without the touch of teeth as he all but begs for your consent.

The brute doesn't bother with such foreplay...

Your will doesn’t seem to interest him in any other aspect than ripping it from you and strangling it in his fist with a big grin, laughing while watching those pitiful tears start slipping down your cheeks.

He'll just shrug off the kinder one when he chides, telling him to stop being so rough with you. He just squeezes you a little tighter, sucks your neck a little harder, and kneads his cock a little deeper – saying that he can do whatever he wants with that which belongs to him.

When you struggle against him, he’s not shy of punishing you accordingly – in fact, he jumps at the opportunity – bending you over his lap with his fist riddled in your hair – landing strike after strike until you’re screaming in surrender, all cute pleas for his mercy, words he’s told you to say.

He likes fucking you like that – when you’re a broken mess who only clings to him for comfort, crying into his neck while he pumps you full of cock and cum.

The kinder one scolds him afterward. Tells him he’s a fiend while petting your head and hair, carrying you away from the scene and into the bathroom. He draws you a tub of bubbles and holds a glass of water to your lips. But for all his niceties – he still gets in the hot water with you – cock in your sore hole while he washes your hair.

Still, he’s more reasonable.

When he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost like every night of you sleeping stuck in between them, you ask him if it’s really necessary – promising him you’re not going to run away – telling him that you’re going to stay right there, peacefully asleep.

The brute says that it isn’t something that’s up for discussion, that if you push your luck, he’s gonna tie every inch of you up like a floppy fish caught in a net ready to be gutted. But you don’t heed the warning – looking to your kinder warden with puppy eyes and a pout on your lips, saying please, it hurts your wrists – again, promising him you’ll be good and stay sound asleep between them the entire night.

You just needed to get to the door.

You just needed to get to the door – through the door – out into the street, screaming while at it, and surely someone, anyone, would come to your rescue.

Why wouldn't your feet move quicker? Why weren’t you faster? Why were you clumsier now? Tripping over rugs, missing steps when scrambling down the stairs, slipping when turning corners – trying to navigate the house when you’d barely ever seen anything but the bedroom.

You just needed to get to the door – but you could hear one of them coming after you – just behind you – big monstrous thundering steps shaking you to the core, strangling your heart, shattering your bones – and it’s getting hard to breathe, hard to see, hard to feel anything other than the numbing fear and the awful way it cripples you – throwing your mind into a tailspin while choking your lungs free of all air, clawing up your throat into a scream.

You just needed to get to the fucking door –

You hadn't known you could make a sound like that – like something out of a horror movie – high-pitched and desperate – ripped from somewhere raw and primal.

There’s a hand in your hair, yanking you backward where you’re received by a hard chest and an arm snaking around your waist, hoisting you off the ground, kicking and yelling.

It’s the brute. He looks almost happy you’d tried running away – a manic look of delight on his face when he finally drops you down on the floor – pinning you beneath him – shadowing you with teeth seemingly dripping with venom and all the ugly punishments he’s no doubt cooking up inside his sick mind.

“Your ass is gettin’ it extra fuckin’ hard tonight – my handprint won’t heal for a month – won’t even be able to sit down without cryin’.” He growls, his teeth on your cheek as he grips your jaw tight – starting off your punishment with a harsh lovebite.

You look at the more merciful of the two.

He’s standing off to the side, looking down at the two of you.

You expect he’d come to the rescue like he’d done all those other times.

But to your utter horror… he isn’t lifting a single finger to stop it.

His face is blank – cold – as cold as the words that roll dryly off his tongue, “I think we’ve established that spanking isn’t enough…”

The one holding you down halts in his advances and seems to get just as frigid as you by the cold-blooded tone of his partner – who takes slow steps toward the two of you, so close he’s got your hair pinned beneath his toes before crouching down until he as well looms over you like a darkening storm.

He reaches a stiff hand to soothe the ring of teeth left on your cheek by the other – seemingly kindly, but his eyes are so jaded your breath catches in your throat – soulless as they stare into your teary ones.

“Maybe we ought to get ahead of the issue and break your legs.” He suggests nonchalantly, making both your and your other captor’s faces bleach.

Then he smiles – that kind smile, only now you can’t help but flinch at the sight of it.

“That way, everyone’s happy,” He states, explaining, “You won't have to be tied up, and we can trust you to keep your word and stay put when you promise us you will.”

Then he stands up and straightens himself, looking at his partner with that same eerie smile.

“Where’d you put the bat again?”

The brute stiffens. His crazed expression had melted in light of the other into a look you’d never seen on him before. He swallows thickly as though he’s just as worried as you are. His voice is hesitant, “I think rope is enough…”

The other throws his brows up. “Oh?” Then he snaps his focus back to you. “What do you think, baby? You think that’s enough?” He walks back to the two of you, and you feel the intense urge to hide behind the one you’d initially been caught running from.

He looks down at you expectantly, watching your lip quiver as you struggle to form an answer without choking on it.

“Hm? What was that? Rope or bat, what do you prefer?” His voice is sharp, licking at you like a knife.

You stutter, “Ro-rope.”

“Yeah? Okay, then – that’s settled.” He confirms, then looks back at the other. “Go get the rope.”

It doesn’t seem like he wants to leave – almost like he’s afraid of what might happen if he does. “Now?” He asks.

“Yes, now.” The smile tightens – sharpens into something truly lethal if you were to test it. “Our pet thinks they can run wild, so we’ll have to reintroduce them to the leash.”

Then he sets his sights back on you, robbing you of all air.

“Unless you’d prefer the bat after all?”

You whimper, shaking your head with a sniffle, “No-no – rope…”

He looks back to the other. “You heard 'em. Get going.”

He’s reluctant about it – looking from you to him, then back to you again, almost apologetically – before he gets up off you, leaving you on the floor – alone.

Your hair is then grabbed harshly, and you’re pulled up to your feet before you’re dragged off them – pulled along until you’re tugged from the floor up onto his lap as he plopped down, comfortably seated on the couch.

He sighs, letting go of your hair and placing both hands on the fat of your haunches, making you straddle him – mirroring your breathless, tear-streaked face with an expressionless one.

A hand ascends, and you’re convinced he’s going to slap you – but as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut in wait for it, his hand finds your cheek, only to ever-so-gently pet the wet away.

Cupping your face, he places a light peck on the corner of your mouth, followed by his voice, “Apologize, and I’ll forgive you.”

Your eyes peel open, looking back into his. You regret it instantly. Still eclipsed, it’s a cold and blank stare that seems to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never- never ever do it again.” You whisper pitifully – as if you’re afraid to be too loud.

“Hm…” He hums, looking unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s good enough…”

His hand slips from your face down your neck, circling it lightly before squeezing it firmly with whitening knuckles. “You hurt my feelings, y’know? I trusted you, and you lied to me – right to my fucking face.”

You cack, wrapping your smaller hands around his wrist as he strangles the words out of you. “I’m sorry- I’m really- really sorry-”

His breathing is thick, as though something’s bubbling underneath the surface – a beast within whose bloodthirst hasn’t yet been sated. “I want more than empty words.” He states flatly, unforgivingly.

Still, he lets go of your throat, letting you drop to his chest, panting sore breaths with his words ringing hot in your head. You start kissing between sipping for air – desperately, up his neck and jaw, then his lips, even though he doesn’t kiss back – pleading, “Please forgive me- I’m sorry, I-”

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He mocks, stroking the back of your head, down your back as though soothing you – voice dripping with fake empathy. “Sorry for what exactly? Hm? For being a dumb little bitch, thinking you could run when you haven’t even so much as walked on your own two feet for months.”

A laugh inches into his words like a sickness. The eerie smile returns, small and curling in the corner of his mouth.

“You were fuckin’ hilarious, you know that?” He breathes lightly – eyes wide, staring at you like cornered prey. “Trippin’ over yer own two feet, barely even making it to the door.”

The grip around your throat returns, and you squeak out a whimper.

“Say it.” He seethes, “Say you’re a dumb little bitch who didn’t know what you were doing.” His lips ghost yours with the command, forcing you to echo the words back into his mouth.

“I’m- I’m a dumb little bitch- I’m- I didn’t know what I was doing-”

He hums at your shivering but doesn’t ease his grip – molding his lips against yours, he kisses you deeply until parting with your lips between his teeth – letting go slowly.

“I- I’ll be good from now on, I promise-” You add – in the hope it would thaw the ice of his stare.

It doesn’t. He keeps them just as jaded – half-masted now as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, brushing your chin and cheek with his lips until blowing on your ear. “You better be.”

You shudder, wincing.

“‘Cause if you ever try anything like that again, I’m gonna go get that bat – and nothing and no one is gonna keep me from bashing away at you until I’ve made certain you can’t lift a single fucking finger without my help.”

You’re a broken mess of sniveling apologies and prayers on his lap by the time the brute comes back with the rope.

But the one who’d reduced you to it doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“There you are!” He beams with a bright smile.

Acting as though you weren’t falling apart in his arms, gripping his shirt for purchase while sobbing hard and ugly into his chest.

“Let’s tie every square inch of 'em up like you suggested.” He muses while picking your tear-stained face up in both hands, nose-kissing you with his words dripping fondly off his tongue. “Just like a floppy fish ready to be gutted.”

BNHA – BakuDeku, DabiHawks, EndMight, ShinKami, TodoDeku, KiriBaku, Shiggy x villain!Deku

JJK – SatoSugu, YujiKuna, YujiGumi

HQ – Miya twins, IwaOi,

BLLK – NagiReo, KuniGiri

AOT - EreMin

DS - InoTan, DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

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buckyalpine · 3 months

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Feral, dirty thots under the cut, go away. Size kink, Beefy Bucky, all that.

Imagine riding a chubby beefy Bucky and you're a whining, whimpering mess because you're grinding yourself on his thick length, holding onto his meaty thighs to rock your hips back and forth. You can't even form a coherent sentence because your clit rubs right against his tummy, that happy trail of hair just adding to the stimulation. Your eyes roll back and your jaw is slack, his hands greedily pawing at your nipples and grabbing your hips to keep going.

His balls are achingly heavy and he nearly sobs when you reach behind to tug and pull at them, rolling them in your hand.

"S'good" You slur out, "S'so good Jamie" You look so gone and Bucky can't hold still, his hips squirming from underneath to chase more of your tight cunt squeezing his cock. You haven't been together for long and he wants to learn what you like so he can please you till you can't even say his name.

"You-you want me to rub your clit?" He whispers shyly because he's more than happy to do whatever it takes to make you feel good. You bite your lip and shake your head, unable to get the words out, you don't need him to do a damn thing, not when it's so perfect already.

"You already are" You moan out, feeling your orgasm build higher and higher, placing your hands on his tummy, drawing his attention to the way you hump and rut against him each time you take his cock all the way in. He looks like a confused puppy for a moment, with wide eyes until you show him exactly what you're talking about.

"Oh fuck" He whines, looking at the debauched mess you're making on him when you lean back, only giving him a quick glimpse of the slick you've smeared all over his belly. "Oh god yes, use me, rub yourself on me angel, that's it"

Seeing you get off, looking so small on top of him, using him for all your pleasure makes him nearly cum on the spot and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from blowing his load.

"Keep-fuck-keep going princess, look so pretty when you rub yourself on me like that, rub your little clit on me baby-shit-" He helps guide your body to move faster until he can feel you practically squirt all over him and he cannot hold on for another second, honestly how can you expect him to-

"FUCK BABY" He roars, immediately filling you with ropes of his spend as soon as he feels you clenching down around him. "Fuck, m'cummig so hard for you"

"So fuckin' good" you whimper, still rubbing your overstimulated clit on him and Bucky's dick doesn't even soften, still rock hard watching his pretty girl cockdrunk while humping his belly and he's never gonna be soft again at his rate-

k bye.

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pinkaditty · 4 months

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Can i pls request some facesitting headcanons for Satan, Mammon, Sitri and leviathan with a fem s!o? Thank you ❤️

hihi this was my first non-anon ask and yes ofc u can!! <3333

summary: facesitting and pussy eating. how will the men of WHB handle it?

a/n: woohoo i've been excited to do this ask tbh!! like seriously i've really been looking forward to it!!!! the only one i don't know much abt is Mammon buuuuut i do know his personality and idiosyncrasy so im hoping that's enough to characterize him properly!

cw: fem!reader (sorry, the one time i don't do gn... I PROMISE GN NEXT TIME!!), reader has a vagina, facesitting, pussy eating, suffocating (leviathan), cardiophilia (Sitri), pygophilia (Mammon), spanking (Satan), male whimpering, masturbation, and lots of tongue usage. NOT PROOFREAD!

MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Satan:

well. he does like spanking!

he won't say no to you sitting on his face ofc that's whatever, as long as he gets to spank your ass while he does it.

he especially doesn't care which way you're facing, because either way, there's an ass close enough for spanking. good enough for him.

will definitely just roughly massage and spank your asscheeks while he makes quick work of you with his tongue.

don't really know why but i think he's totally masterful at it.

knows exactly where your sweet spots are in seconds and abuses tf out of them.

pays especially close attention to the clit, and he's the most gentle with his tongue there. he doesn't mind spanking you, but he doesn't want to hurt you, especially not your sensitive areas. he won't mind if his nails leave a few marks, though.

he won't really stop until he's satisfied. you can't pull yourself off of him because you're not beating him in the strength department.

sorta thrusts his hips up into the air as he eats you out. gets painfully hard really quickly.

His nails, sharp as claws, dig into the skin of your ass, leaving deep bruises and small cuts. You groan painfully, curling your hands into fists and twitching at the sensation. You reach out and pull on his hair. He only grunts, continuing to draw soft circles around your clit with his tongue, smacking your ass once with his right hand before cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit is almost enough to distract you from his nails still clawing into your backside. His tongue is gentle and slow, tracing soft circles around the sensitive nub. His pace is consistent; not so slow you'd lose your mind, but not so fast that you'd be overstimulated. He takes his time, even pausing gentle stimulation of your clit to lap at your hole, already dripping juices from how delicious it all felt.

This back and forth continues, at the same constant pace. Every time you reach orgasm, he smacks your ass again and continues on his pace, gently licking soft circles around your hardened clit.

At this pace, you'll hardly be able to take whatever devil energy he can give you.

Mammon:

well. he's similar to satan in that he likes ass (similar to me too lol).

will probably be doing almost exactly like what Satan's doing, just with less spanking and more groping and general ass appreciation.

will definitely prefer you facing away from him so that he can really be immersed in ass.

he's really slow with it, though. like where satan will put you through multiple in minutes, mammon will give you one every agonizingly long stretch of time filled with not enough pleasure to get you off, but enough to keep you squirming and impatient.

he will find your sensitive spots, but rather than abuse them, he switches between them. he'll take his time getting you off. he's very slow with it, so much so that it almost feels like he's edging you (he sort of is but he's greedy he likes to savor it and take his time. he knows you're already his anyway. why not take his time?)

will lick stripes rather than circles. he will lick your clit directly instead of teasing swipes from a circular motion.

will also dive his tongue between your folds very often, lapping at your juices like a dog does water.

is constantly squeezing, groping, and rubbing his hands all over your ass, simply enamored by it regardless of size.

definitely without a doubt gets hard but probably won't acknowledge it. he's greedy for you, not his pleasure (though he absolutely will be later).

His tongue switches back to your clit, licking slow stripes, pushing the flesh up and down with his tongue. Idly, you wonder how he can keep at this for so long, but such a thought does not last- not when the repeated, slow motions scatter your thoughts with how ridiculously good it feels. You tense up, eagerly stifling your twitching and staying in place, feeling the pleasure build up at last. He keeps going, licking soft stripes up and down your clit, moving his tongue so masterfully rhythmically that barely a sound comes from his technique. You clench and unclench your hands, your eyes spin in your skull, your heartbeat quickens, and your breathing deepens. Surely this was it, surely--!

You feel the telltale motion of his tongue giving one last rough, prolonged stripe to your clit, before he switches back to your waiting hole, diving his tongue inside hungrily and dragging it along your insides, collecting all the juices his greed so desires. You curse, having been so close, and he teasingly squeezes your ass in return. You can feel him smirking into your folds.

Sitri:

oh boy. ohohooooo boy.

he could care less which way you're facing. what matters is, regardless of the position you take up, your thighs are pressed directly against his ears. he can hear your heartbeat from afar but it's never enough.

will wrap his arms around your thighs to ensure that you stay put and to really press your thighs into his ears. he just cannot get enough of your heartbeat. thump, thump, thump...

is less careful with his fangs than the other demons. absolutely will not hurt nor bite you but when he's tonguing your folds the smooth edges of his teeth may slide against you. not painful.

is not very calculated with his technique but doesn't really need to be with your heartbeat as a dead giveaway. he just laps and laps tirelessly like a parched dog but somehow it hits the good spots.

honestly it's the way he does it that turns you on more than how it feels. how desperate each stroke feels is what really does it.

strokes with his tongue are wide, all-encompassing, and sloppy. he's drooling so much that it only makes you wetter.

buries his face as close as he can so he'll often pull back for air before burying himself again.

eats you out like he's never eaten anything before.

gets hard very quickly and will gently remove his hand from your thigh to jack himself off. does it quietly so you won't notice because he thinks it's embarrassing. eventually his muffled moans into your folds give him away and you just start riding his face. not that he minds.

He just keeps lapping. Like a dog at a water bowl after a long, dry walk. He just doesn't seem to stop. It feels good - almost too good. You writhe and twist, curling your toes from how delicious it feels, but you can't move much; his strong arms still holding you down in place and keeping your thighs hard pressed to either side of his face. He just has to listen to your heartbeat in his ears. He just can't get enough of it, of you. He keeps lapping, his tongue sliding between your folds, gentle but quick, sliding across your hole and just barely tickling your clit before he retracts and licks again. The buildup feels slow, but you've finished before you know it, the gentle tickles of your clit driving you to orgasm. Your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back, and he lets you ride it out, keeping up his gentle strokes against your clit. You shiver as sparks pop behind your eyes, slowly coming down from your high. He squeezes your thighs once more, and breaks away, taking a few deep breaths. The cool air hits your folds and you flinch, twitching just slightly at the sensation. As quickly as he pulled away, he dives back in, dragging his tongue across the length of your labia, gently slipping between to tease what's there. You groan, feeling sensitive, the continued motion making you feel overstimulated. You curl your toes, shifting yourself just slightly, trying your best to bear the overwhelming feeling. It just feels too good, the gentle drag of his tongue, the soft tease of your hole and clit, and the finality of it all before he immediately starts again. You can't take it.

You feel the pressure of his hand of your thigh gently lift. You can't be bothered to pay much attention to that until you hear the soft clink of a belt being undone, and you know what he's doing. You can barely smile in satisfaction due to overstimulation, but you manage, and reach down for his blue silky hair, pulling tightly on it. He moans, and stops lapping, simply holding his mouth open, preparing for you to ride him. He's practically shaking, trembling in silence except for the repeated sound of his hand sliding up and down his length.

Leviathan:

the less he can breathe, the better.

literally. no if's and's or but's. the less he can breathe the better. surprisingly he's not much into choking you... rather he wants you to choke him.

and he doesn't care how you do it.

so suffocating under you while you take what you need from him, yeah! he is more than on board for that.

prefers you facing forward so you can use his nose to rub your clit on while your folds are spread over his lips, revealing your hole, perfect for him to stick his tongue into while you move back and forth over him.

this way, he can't breathe! and yeah, he gets off to that really fast.

will attempt to hold your hips as you ride him, but may be unable to focus much so he might claw his hands into the sheets.

while he's totally into this, you will have to lift off of him occasionally. but not for very long.

you can watch as his eyes roll back from the relief of finally being able to breathe, his face red as a cherry, his tongue lolled out and covered in your juices.

and then you sit right back down and he can't breathe anymore. but he's not complaining. at all.

he's thrusting his hips upwards, as though he's desperate to feel some friction. he's so into being suffocated, he can't even focus on his own arousal.

won't really touch himself. after your first orgasm or so he's already cum untouched.

for every one orgasm of yours, he's probably had one to three.

You're riding his face like you would a horse, using the chain between his horns as reins, pulling his face deeper into you. He obliges, following your pull ever so obediently, burying himself deeper into your folds. You're moving your hips along his face as fast as you can, his nose providing the perfect stimulation for your clit. You can barely see his eyes peeking over your thighs, but they're there, rolled back in ecstasy. His face is bright red, and he can't breathe. He's clinging to the sheets, gripping them tightly for some semblance of grounding, but he's too far gone.

You're much the same, dizzy and blissful from how good it feels. His nose is gently pressed into you, your clitoris rubbing back and forth over it. His nose supplies just the right amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge. His open mouth and lolling tongue are perfect for catching your juices and teasing your hole, pressed right against it, and you feel every tremble and every moan. Sometimes he moves his tongue just slightly, circling your hole as you move. It makes you grip the chain harder, putting pressure on his horns, to which he moans rather loudly.

When you finally feel the orgasm coming, the building blissful pressure turning into a peak, your folds twitching with anticipation; you suddenly push the chain away from you, pressing his head into the sheets. Your hips follow him, pressing his face deeper into you and his head deeper into the pillows. His already jerking hips suddenly thrust into to the air, and you hear and feel a strangled moan as he reaches his peak, his whole body quivering as he soils his pants. You press deeper into him as you orgasm yourself, you clit quivering against his nose, your juices spilling into his mouth. For a moment, you stay like that, holding his chains so tightly they leave indents in your skin. Soon you release, letting go of his chains and lifting off of him a little, giving him a chance to breathe. He's twitching, all red in the face, and panting heavily, his mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. You only give him a minute before you sit right back on his face again. He moans, satisfied, and ready for another round.

a/n: okay so perhaps i got a little carried away with my blatant displays of favoritism. perhaps. but it's not my fault!!!!!!!!! i like them submissive. :(

okok but anyway i hope you all enjoyed woohoo!! one more ask after this, but ill do pervert pt 3 before I answer that ask. anyways, please please please let me know if you all enjoyed it!! leave a comment, do a quick reblog, and submit an ask if you want something written just for you! im happy to write for you! thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you!

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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okay we know about Spencer's slutty slutty waist... but what about the reader biting her lips and squeezing her thighs every time his SLUTTIEST HAIR falls in his face?!? what about that huh? he's so innocent?!? and he doesn't even notice it?! that all she wants is to push her boyfriend against a wall?!? and mark him up?!? SPENCER REID WILL MAKE PEOPLE SIN 😭😭😭

It takes three calls of your name to break you from your stupor, but perhaps you're more startled by Emily's elbow digging into your bicep than you are at Hotch's stern tone.

"Y/L/N," Your boss glares at you, annoyance written all over his face, "Are you with us? This happens to be important."

"Sorry!" You stammer, blinking bewilderedly as you tear your eyes away from Spencer, "Sorry, what?"

"We're talking about the M.Os," Derek scoffs, but it's more teasing than Hotch's irritation had been, "Aren't you supposed to ogle your boyfriend on your own time?"

"I wasn't-!" You start, but it's really indefensible. After all, you'd zoned out for at least two minutes on the side of his face, and the strand of hair draped tantalizingly over his features. He'd tucked it behind his ear twice, but nothing stopped it from dipping back in front of his eyes. You're fairly certain you'd have gnawed right through your lip if you'd been allowed to continue daydreaming, so perhaps you should be grateful you've been called back to action.

You read over the file in your lap and Hotch's stern gaze lingers on you for a moment longer. Then he turns back to his own work, and prompts discussion once more. You let yourself blend into the background noise, piping up here and there so that you're not seen as slacking again, but not nearly as talkative as you normally are. You don't let yourself look at Spencer anymore for fear of losing focus, but you can feel him staring right at you, and it's taking everything in you not to stare right back.

Finally you're dismissed, the warning of 'wheels up in thirty' the last thing that Hotch says before stalking off to his office. The rest of your team disperses, some to the vending machine, some to the coffeemaker, and some to their desks, but Spencer purposefully lingers behind when you do.

"What was that?" He asks, sounding almost nervous. Of course. Leave it to Spencer to infer that your lust-filled gaze was actually a scrutinizing one.

"Your hair," You grunt, the sound almost a growl in your throat as you reach for the strand hanging in front of his eyes, "It- God, Spence, it just kept falling in your face, and- fuck."

He's frozen under your fingertips as you yank lightly on the strand of hair, using it to tug him to you for a kiss. He lets out a muffled sound of surprise, and you twirl his hair around your finger while you kiss him.

"Don't cut your hair," You plead, slightly breathless when you finally have the sense to draw back. You tuck the hair protectively behind his ear, like it'll be safe there from whatever scissors he aims at the rest of his waves, and he blinks at you, still processing your rather brazen display of affection.

"Okay," He nods along to your command, "Uh- okay, I won't- I won't cut my hair."

"Good." You grin, taking his chin between your fingers and giving it a teasing squeeze, "The longer it gets, the more there is for me to tug on, pretty boy."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

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I hope this is an okay thing to ask for but could you do headcanons of Alastor with female reader on her- time of the month?? (Kinda wondering what to be like for him with all the blood ya know???) 🙇🏻‍♀️ please, thank you!

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being nasty, canon cannibalism mentioned, menstruation(wish I got a TW for that in real life fr)

Description: ☝️⬆️

Can literally smell it coming before you even have a chance to check your calendar

Creep

He's like a fucking shark, smelling you from miles away

Maybe it's his affection for you but you're the one person he reacts this way to, he's fine around anyone else on their period

If you forget then he's not going to remind you because he likes waking up to the smell of your blood

Don't worry though he'll take care of the sheets and your clothes, he's got you bby girl

Tbh Alastor is practically starving whenever your period starts, the coppery smell making his mouth water constantly

He's sipping tea and you walk by?? Oops, the cup is crushed in his hands and he's sitting there with tea and broken glass all over him

He wants to devour you all the time

Definitely just finds opportunities to bite you and draw blood so he can stave off his desires

Don't worry it feels good

Eats at Cannibal Town more often

Other than that, he tends to pamper you when you're on your period

You're craving something??? Don't worry, Husk or Niffty will go get it for you! He'll snuggle you while you wait

Wait actually that looks kinda good give him a bite

Fuck off

He steals a bite anyways, forcing you to feed him a little nibble

Thank you love

You're experiencing cramps?? Do you want him to massage the area for you? You want a hot water bottle? He's got you

You just want to cuddle and be held? He can spare some time for that, just let him close the door first

Bby please he has a reputation to uphold

Loves when you have mood swings and snap at the others, encourages your anger

He's a shit stirrer

He literally just likes poking the bear and pointing you in his current victim's direction

"My dear, I thought you knew that Angel ate your sweets..."

As long as it's not directed at him

If you turn your anger on him then his ears fold back and he finds an excuse to run off

"I'm sorry my dear but Charlie is calling for me! We'll have to continue this conversation for another time!"

Coward

"Alastor, Y/N is looking for you-"

"I'M NOT HERE"

If your mood changes to sadness and you start crying then he panics and freezes up

"I-uh-I'm...sorry..?"

Makes awkward grabby motions at you then stops

He hates seeing you upset but he's an asshole and doesn't know what to do, doesn't want to make it worse

Idk if he's ever made a genuine attempt to make someone he cares about feel better

Alastor doesn't want to be the reason you're crying

Will just ask you what he can do to make it better, gripping your chin so that you have to look at him

He's serious

Whatever you ask of him he'll do it and he'll do it himself, no sending someone in his place and no fuss

Is visibly relieved once you're calm again, rubbing your back and letting out a sigh

Alastor is as attentive as he can bring himself to be when you're on your period, but you still have to put up with a lot of his shit

I hope this is what you were asking for 🥺

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

977 notes · View notes

lingeriae · 7 months

Text

SCREAM 4 ME!

warnings - stalker-ish behaviour from my man connie, possessive and toxic connie, sexual content including: oral (r recieving) spit, pussy slaps and fingering, gore and blood mentioned, cursing, knives reader is black and female!

connie couldn't decide what pissed him off more. the fact that this bitch-made ass white boy was feeling up on you or the fact that you were allowing him to feel up on you.

his tongue poked his inner cheek as he watched the scene infront of him, you on one of the desk in the classroom with eren between your spreaded legs, a hand on your thigh and the other on your waist as he opened his shit pit to say something to you which caused you to turn away your head. it's like he started seeing red, and no it wasn't pink eye.

the sudden urge to walk in the classroom and stab eren in his throat haunted connie's mind as he continued to watch the scene, his jaw clenched shut and his hands turning into fist at the sides allowing the veins that traced his arms to become prominent. his hand reached for the door handle, intending to create the scene he had in mind with bashing eren's head in, until a familiar voice called out his name. turning his head connie comes face to face with armin who wore a concerned look on his face,

"you good, bro?" the blond asked, tilting his head at the male as he looked him up and down, stopping at his tightly clenched fist.

it's as if his whole demeanor changed in a second, face going blank while he shoved his hands in his pocket. armin's eyebrows rose to his forehead as connie nodded his head before walking away, while watching his back armin thought about how unusual his normally out-going friend was being but shaked his head thinking it was simply an overreaction.

the door for the classroom door opened, eren walked out before you did, pushing pass armin with an odd look on his face.

armin's eyebrows rose further, wondering what the fuck was up with everyone today and why you two were in that classroom to begin with. "what's wrong with him?" he asked as you wrapped your hands around yourself, looking down at your black and white converse.

you shrug in response to his question leaving armin left in the dark yet again, it was like he wasn't even your bestfriend anymore, like you didn't even trust him anymore.

but he gets it, with what's been going on in the past few weeks he wouldn't trust anyone either, but he was still your friend—or was he?

armin couldn't keep track anymore.

with a huff, armin adjusts the books he held in his hand, looking away from you and down the hall where connie stormed off to. "well, whatever you two were doing in there, connie saw and he looks pretty pissed." at this you look up, your eyes wide and your plump lips parted, the expression only confusing armin even more.

"w-what? do you know where he went?" you stammer, looking around as if you could catch sight of the brown eyed male. the blonde infront of yoou doesn't give you a verbal responce, simply raising his hand and pointing in the direction he saw connie disappear in. you mumble a quiet 'thanks' before running off in the direction he pointed it, desperate to find the boy.

breathing heavily you rest your body against a wall after having ran all over the school in search of connie and being unsucessful in your search. your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket and you take it out, seeing a text from an unknown number.

can't wait to make u scream.

your eyebrows draw together at the text just as a ping comes in, the number sends another text but this time it's a picture. a picture of you leaning against a wall, the exact wall you were leaning on now.

slipping your phone in your back pocket you look around expression twisting in one of fear, "this isn't funny." you say outloud to no one in particular, pushing off the wall and walking away quickly.

you could feel the hair on your arms standing up, as well as your hands shaking as you placed them in the pocket of your hoodie, heart racing rapidly when you started hearing heavy footsteps behind you not daring to turn around.

the footsteps behind you sped up, and as they did so did your breathing and the beat of your heart, your throat went dry as you grew terrified of who—or what was behind you. you turned your head at the side a little to finally get a glimpse of who was behind you only to see exactly what you hoped not to.

a cloaked figure, with a blade and a mask.

you started running, taking in little gasps for air every now and then, tears building up at your lashline and your feet begining to burn in your high-top converses.

'why me?' was all you could think as the figure started running after you, close on your heel. you had never troubled anyone and kept to yourself for most of your highschool years, so you didn't understand why this mysterious serial killer was coming after you of all persons.

sure the killer killed a few of your friends, but they were all assholes who had beef with everybody, and you weren't like them. you had conflict with no one—-being the most liked girl in school.

so why you?

a squeak fell from your lips as you bumped into a large figure, almost falling on your ass before a sturdy arm came out grasp your waist. you look up to your savior only to come face to face with eren, his face morphing into one of concern as his teal eyes flickered up and down your face. pink lips parted for a split second before closing again when you grasp his shirt and pull him into a nearby closet.

eren looked down at you with furrowed brows, parting his lips to speak again but being cut off by your fingers pressed against his lips, listening for the sound of the heavy footsteps. his hands that found their way to your waist, jade eyes boring into you as you looked at the door expectingly. with a sigh you remove your finger from eren's lips, nibbling on your own as you looked up at him.

he raises and eyebrow, "what's up?" although he's confused, the tone of his voice is soft and comforting and it causes you to lean your head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. his arms come to wrap around you tenderly, offering you the comfort you need and signaling you to rest your body against his. the look on his face is one of concern as he kisses your head top and rubs your back.

"t-they were chasing me eren." you whisper. too afraid to talk any louder in case 'they' might hear you.

"who?" your about to answer his question when the door of the janitor closet is flung open, the cloaked figure from before standing at the door, knife glinting dangerously as he raises it with a tilted head.

"me."

a 'slash' is sounded through the air when the killer brings the knife down, plunging it into eren's shoulder. screaming you push the figure, feeling the hard muscles underneath his coat flex beneath your finger tips as he's caught off guard and stumbles outside of the closet. it gives you enough time to close the door again, a broken cry leaves your lips as the killer begins to bang on the door furiously before a knife appears right above your arm, slicing it a bit.

you keep a firm grip on the door handle as the killer continues to bang on the door and pierce it with his knife that was painted with erens blood, tears run down your face as you watch him groaning against the wall, blood coating each of his pretty fingers. eren makes eye-contact with you before walking over to you with his hand still pressed against the wound, a hiss leaving his lips as he places his hand over yours to help keep the door in place.

"eren no y-your hurt." you whisper with a shake of your head, but make no move to push him away from the door as the banging intensifies, you only watch as his brown hair frames his pretty face as he tilts his head and gives you a pained smile. "m'okay, promise princess."

you start praying.

praying that someone will hear the loud bangings and notice the physcopath that stands outside of the door with his bloody knife and murderous intentions. your palms began to get sore and your legs feel wobbly from the fear that runs through your vains, the cut on your arm suddenly makes itself known as it begans to pulse with an unbearable pain. you wonder how eren feels if your scratch hurts so bad, you wonder if you'll make it out alive.

a shrill ring echos throughout the walls of the closet, and the banging pauses. you look at eren and he looks at you, both of you waiting with baited breaths for something to happen, your heart beating through your ears.

the sound of multiple footsteps and talking in the halls causes you to lean your body against the door with a shaky sigh, your hands shaking as you moved to open the door wincing at the feeling of sore palms against the metal.

it takes five seconds for people to notice you and eren, sly remarks on the tip of their tongues until someone pointed out the obvious.

"they're fucking bleeding! someone get help!"

an arm wraps around your middle and your hands come into contact with a sturdy chest, eyes meeting with one of a familiar honey colour.

his freckled face had twisted up with a look of 'concern'. pretty pink plump lips downturned into a frown, and his forehead frowned as his thick eyebrows drew together, "what the fuck happened?" connie asks, the question sounding so aggressive but his touch was gentle and soft as he rubbed circles in your waist and held your injured arm.

you couldn't even tell he was lying, taking that glint in his eye for worry. how could you be so fucking naive?

you don't respond, only wrapping your arms around his neck and burrying your face in his shoulder, letting all your tears flow not caring that you were getting his white t-shirt wet.

connie's hands find their way to your back, rubbing it soothingly. his lips twitching at your attention, eyes dragging up to meet eren who looked at him with a blank look. he only tilted his head, looking the brunette up and down once before pulling away from you, his warm and large hands cupping your face, eyes glittering with warmth—drawing you in deep.

"c'mon, lets get you patched up, mama."

your fingers traced figures on connies chest as you rested your head against his torso, giggling when he grunted cause you traced your finger over his nipple. eyes never leaving his pretty face, taking note of ever single detail on it. how it slightly glowed under the light of the tv, how his lashes almost otuched his cheek, how his pretty pink lips were jutted out in a frown-like manner, how his botton nose scrunched up when one of the characters on the tc said some dumb shit—silver stud shining with the tv light.

he can feel your gaze burning the side of his face, when he looks down he see's your pretty eyes gazing up at him as you do that shit with your pretty plump lips slightly parted,nibbling on your lower lips, that same expression you make when you want something from him.

"you watchin me or the movie?" he sasses, pinching your side.

you smile prettily, looking at the tv to see the killer chasing the pretty girl with a machete in his hand, and looking back at connie fluttering your lashes at him. "that shit makes my screen crawl, rather watch you and get my pussy wet."

a sound that sounds dangerously close to a whimper falls from connie lips, his eyes getting glossy and low as he stares at you with his lips parted, wetting them with his tongue while he looked away staring at the tv. he bit his lips as he looked back at you, cheeks heating up and his underwear suddenly feeling tight.

"you can keep talking your shit, im not fucking you with your crippled ass arm." he says, giggling at the offended expression you now wore. you push up off of him, folding your arms across your chest and staring a head of you instead of at him. "so I get one little injury and im crippled? ian even wanna fuck you anyways nigga-"

an arm is wrapped around your throught before you can even finish your sentence, it's warm and it causes you to push your thighs together as you suddenly feel your panties getting slightly damp. connie's expression not helping your situation at all, pink lips quirked up into a smirk and honeyed eyes were glossed over and dark with lust.

it made your body warm and tingly, heat making it's way to your face when he pulls you on top of him, his lips brushing against yours but not quite touching them while his nose rubbed against yours, allowing you to feel the piercing that sat on top of it.

"whatchu say?" he whispers, eyes holding a mischevious look as he looked at you, hands squeezing your ass. "nothin." you mumble, growing bashful from all the attention he was giving you. connie smiled smugly, rubing his nose against yours. "mmm, that's what I thought you said."

you couldn't even get to respond as his plushy lips were mashed against yours, lips smacking together as you both made out messily, almost devouring each other.

the taste of his lips was addicting, and you couldn't get enough, sucking his tongue and listening to the sweet whimpers he lets out at the mere action.

connie's hands find there place on your hips as you begin to roll yourself against his hips, feeling the tip of his dick beneath his sweatpants bump against your clit with each grind of your hips. your hands grazed his nape as you continued to move against him, smiling at the groan he let out.

"(★)," he pauses as your pussy runs over his cock once more, grunting at the feeling. "s-shit, mama stop doing that."

his voice is deep and whiny, it holds a tone of desperation but restraint. the muscle in his jaw ticks as he holds you waist in place, slouching against the couch and taking deep breaths before giving you a stern look.

"im not about to fuck you when your injured," you know he means it from the look he gives you, and it makes your pretty lips tip down in a frown, pushing off of him to sit down on the couch not laying on his chest anymore.

you can feel his eyes burn holes in the side of your face as you keep your eyes on the tv, suddenly intrested in the man using a chainsaw to slice through the girl while she was still alive.

"okay."

it goes quiet after that, connie only continues to stare at you, guilt pooling at his stomach as he continued to stare at you. licking his lips, he sighs and slouches more in the couch, running a hand down his face before looking back at you.

connie knows all you really want is his comfort, especially after what happened—but he's still upset that you made eren touch on his body like that. he knows all you want is a distraction from everything, but he has to punish you a little.

but maybe he can punish you and pleasure you at the same time.

a boy-ish smile makes it way to connie's face show-casing his pretty dimples, the look is almost innocent, but his eyes clear up the whole 'innocent' act, showing clear signs that man was about to fucking devour you.

the tap that's delievered to your thigh causes you to look up, a shudder goes down your spine as your eyes meet connie's glossed over ones, full to the brim with lust like you would be in a few minutes.

"what?" you say it so meekly, it makes connie's grin widen.

in a quick motion, your back is pressed against the couch, mout falling open to let out a gasp whilst connie holds unto your legs, spreading them open.

"connie--" your words are cut off by him pressing a kiss to your pussy, face heating up as it flutters from the simple action, "lay down and lemme eat your pussy." he mumbles, mouth still pressed against your clothed cunt, a hand pressing against your stomach as you attempted to sit up.

"b-but you said," he drags your sweatpants down in one big swoop, throwing the sweatpants over hs shoulder in a wuick motion, tongue swipping at the corner of his lips, hazel brown eyes glaring at the wet spot in your panties with an almost anger look on his face. "know what the fuck I said, don't lemme have to tell you to lay your ass down again mami." your arousal almost floods your panties hazardly, your brownskin suddenly feeling hot as you looked away from him to watch the tv as a distraction only for the screen to go turn black.

a hand is wrapped around your throat again, turning you to face connie, his nose against your cheek as he kisses you, pulling away for a second allowing you to feel the tiny huffs of air he lets out. "ion want you watching anything, or anyone else but me." he whispers squeezing your neck a little before pressing his lips against yours.

your overwhelmed by him, feeling him touch you all over your body. squeezing, fondling, kissing. it was getting to you, your pussy specifically, and you couldn't help but want him to live under your skin.

he quickly takes off your panties, smirking giddly as he places them in the pocket of his sweatpants. your plush and wet pussy now on display for him, hole fluttering every now and then around nothing but air.

"shit ma, you so wet..." he sucks in a breath as he brushes a finger over your clit, your body jerked in reaction.

he gives you one last kiss on your pussy, finally leaning down and placing a his lips on your warmth.

wet muscle is felt moving up and down on your pussy before connie's mouth encloses on your clit, gently taking the bud into his mouth and sucks on it.

"pussy taste so fucking good," he mumbles, mouth still on your pussy, the deep vibration of his voice sending chills throughout your whole body. your hands grip his head as he continues to make-out with your pussy, eyes almost crossing from how good he was making you feel. "mm, connie."

"yeah, that's right say my fucking name mama, gonna have you screaming for me in a minute."

too fucked out and lost in the pleasure, you don't even take heed to his words, only focused on the feeling of his mouth working against your pussy like magic, gripping his head harder, the spiky hair of his buzzcut not bothering you one bit.

your back arches off the couch with a gasp as connie unexpectedly pushes a finger in you, his mouth still on your pussy as his slender fingers curl inside of your spongey walls causing you toes to curl in ecstasy. connie only smirked as you begin grinding unto his face, fingers thrusting in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm to drive you over the edge. "feels so good con," your voice is breathy and high as you whisper out the words, holding unto connie as if your life depend on it.

"yeah?" he asked, licking his lips, hooded hazel eyes connecting with yours from between your parted legs, fingers never stopping once. "you gonna cum for me?"

"uh huh." a hiccup left you, tempting connie to smile once more as he increased the speed of his fingers, his plump pink lips attaching themselves back to your cunt.

he swirls his tongue around your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, watching with awe at the creamy clear liquid that encases his fingers.

as he continued you could feel the knot in your stomach quickly tightening, about to snap at any given time,your back arched off of the seat of the couch, thighs shaking as your vision became blurry with tears.

"gonna cum, connie m' gonna c-cum slow down!" you whine, trying to push a away his head. you freeze at the look he gives you, having no time to think about it as your orgasm washes ov4er you like a heavy wave.

connie doesn't stop as you cum, slurping you up as if you were his last meal. he only stops when he witnesses the trembling of your thighs, sitting up and giving you a kiss on your cheek before leaving the room.

"where you goin?" you mumble with a hoarse voice, lifting up your body to watch the muscles of his back move as he walks, he stops and looks at you over his shoulder.

"gon get you some water." you mumble a soft okay in responce before leaning back in against the cushion behind you, hissing as you felt something hard poke you in your back.

"this fool don't ever know how to clean up right." you mumble as you lift the pillow,

the item beneath it causes you to pause your movements, your plump lips parting in shock as confusion and fear ran through your veins.

a ghostface masked laid beneath the pillow, a speck of blood on the cheek that almost stared at you mockingly. you place a hand over your mouth as you felt tears make it's way to your lashline, your body backing up off of the couch and causing you to fall.

"ma?" the sound of connie's voice causes you to freeze, and you hurridely get up off of the floor and move away from him. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down, "wha-"

"you’re r ghostface." a shudder goes throughout your body at the blank look he gives you, his head turning to look at the mask on the couch befor elooking back up at you with a sigh. he places the water he carried on the table, you watch his every move carefully, making sure he doesn't get too close to you.

"ma, c'mere." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, his honey coloured eyes staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"no."

his jaw tightens at your responce, head tilting as he runs his tongue over his teeth.

"m' not gonna ask again." it was almost like a threat, and it only scared you more.

your heart almost felt like it was about to fail as you stared at connie for a few seconds before running towards the door.

dumb fucking move.

a hand suddenly yanks you back, making your back rest against connie's sturdy chest.you draw in a brreath as a knife is suddenly placed at your throat, slowly tilting your head up so you could meet connie's eyes.

they glinted dangerously, somehow holding you captive. "don't fucking run from me, you crazy baby?" his words caused your breath to hitch, your legs shaking with fear as you looked up at him.

"don't try that shit again, you hear me?" you nod your head slowly causing connie to let out a hiss, shaking his head. "words mama, know you know them."

"I head you con." you say, tears filling your eyes.

connie licked his lips, showing off his dimples as he smiled at your obedience.

"good girl, and if you try that shit again, ima make you scream."

1K notes · View notes

cheapshrimpysheep · 7 months

Text

Sending Love - Part 2

SUMMARY: How do they react to seeing you make a heart with your hands for them in the classroom? And how do they reciprocate you?

CHARACTERS: Scarabia (Kalim; Jamil); Pomefiore (Vil; Epel; Rook); Ignihyde (Idia; Ortho) & Diasomnia (Malleus; Silver; Sebek; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

WORD COUNT: An average of 200 words per character.

COMMENTS: Some are longer than others because some of them would take longer to reciprocate your heart. Or at least I think they would. And since I decided to write for all students and there are 22 of them, I divided this into 2 parts.

Sending Love - Part 1

CONTEXT: You two are in the same classroom (for whatever reason) sitting relatively far from each other. It was a class with Professor Trein.

Kalim is easily distracted. And now that you're in the same room as him it's difficult for him to concentrate for more than two minutes in class.

When you look at him, he is looking and smiling at you with his chin resting in his hands.

As soon as you make a heart with your hands for him, he at first is surprised, but in the next second his smile gets bigger, and he reciprocates your heart by doing the same with his hands in a very non-subtle way.

Which makes Professor Trein draw his attention and give him a quick scolding. And consequently to you too, because it was obvious who Kalim was looking at.

He will continue to be distracted by your presence despite everything.

After class he will apologize for making the professor scolding you too. But he doesn't want to apologize with just words, so he invites you to go eat lunch at Scarabia.

Jamil is practically never distracted, but he is always attentive and with his guard up. So it's not difficult for him to feel that you are looking at him.

He discreetly looks at you with a look that says a polite "What?"

You make a heart with your hands for him and he automatically blushes, and looks away from you as if he wanted to hide his face.

But then, he realizes that you might think he doesn't feel the same way about you and decides to look back at you while your gaze is still on him.

He's still flattered and slightly embarrassed when he makes a heart with his thumb and forefinger for you.

After that, every now and then, he will look at you for a moment. And if you notice and look at him with a smile, he will try to hide his slight flattered smile with one of his hands.

Vil isn’t the type to get distracted in class, but he is the type to check in on the other students for a moment. Or at least the students who interest him. Which, in addition to the other Pomefiore students, right now, is also you.

If, by chance, you're not looking at him, he'll be happy that you're paying attention in class. If you are looking at him, he will also smile, but in a smug way. He understands that you can't help but look at him, but you need to be attentive in class, sweet potato.

When you make a heart with your hands for him, he smiles slightly, as if even though he was happy about it, he was still repressing you with his eyes for not paying attention in class.

He won't reciprocate your heart. Yet.

If after that you start paying attention in class and show yourself to be a good student, the next time you look, then yes, he will make a heart with his thumb and index finger and wink at you.

Epel is a dedicated student, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get distracted from time to time, especially during boring moments.

If you're also looking at him, he'll give you a small smile as if to say: Are you bored too? While dangling the pen in his fingers.

When he sees you making a heart with your hands for him, he is so surprised that he drops his pen on the head of the student in front of him.

Epel apologizes, but the other student is upset with him. It was Professor Trein who stopped them from starting a fight with a warning.

He sits down and looks at you with a sulking face, as if he's blaming you for what happened, but at the same time flattered.

He won't reciprocate you yet, because he's still a little sulky. But later, when you look at him again, he will make a heart with his thumb and forefinger at you, but with an reluctantly look on his face. That's because those hearts are cute and he doesn't like to do cute things, but for you he does it hoping not to be noticed by the others.

Rook is impressively... strange. At the same time as he is paying attention to the important parts of the class, he is also paying attention to you.

When you look at him, he is already looking at you, and he smiles charmingly at you.

You decide to make a heart with your hands for him. His reaction: BEAUTÉ! But not out loud, you can hear him say this in your head when you see his eyes sparkle looking at you.

He makes the same heart with his hands for you. Without caring about the students seeing you two doing it, just making sure Professor Trein doesn't see so you don't have any problems.

Next time your eyes meet, he will reciprocate your initiative the first time by blowing you a kiss this time.

And now whenever you look at each other it will be implied that you should exchange hearts and/or kisses with each other. And remember, you started.

IF for some reason, or obligation, Idia is physically present, his posture and expression will clearly say that he does not want to be there mainly out of boredom or annoyance. Besides social anxiety.

You'll have to try a few times until he does NOT immediately look away when he notices you looking at him.

You will smile at him first and wait for him to smile slightly back. And then yes, you make a heart with your hands for him.

The ends of his hair will turn slightly pink and he will cover his head with his hood. Professor Trein does not reprimand him because he understands it as an act to prevent the flames in his hair from distracting the other students and because he knows Idia's social anxiety problems. So he just ignores it.

For a long time, he doesn't look at you again during class. At least not when you're looking at him too.

Only at the end of the class, seconds before the students started to pack up their materials to leave, do you decide to look at him one last time.

And you see him looking at you, with his bangs slightly pink and making a heart with his thumb and index finger at you. Fingers close to his face so he could pretend he was just adjusting his hood before leaving.

You’ll probably receive messages from him telling you not to be so cute in class because that is a type of attack in which he has a disadvantage.

Ortho is a robot, he doesn't necessarily need to pay attention in class. he only does it or pretends to do it to have the experience of a human student.

One of his interests, more than classes, are his fellow students. So when you look at him, he's likely to look back at you and you'll see his eyes showing the smile that his covered mouth can't.

You make a heart with your hands for him in response to his cute look. Which made him even cuter because now, in addition to smiling, he was a little blushing.

He reciprocates by making a heart with his hands for you too. A heart like the one you made.

You provided him with yet another new student experience for his data.

Of course Malleus is focused on you as much or more than he is on class. You certainly interest him more than whatever Professor Trein may be teaching about something that Lilia must have already told him.

So when you look at him, he's already looking at you, and he gives you a little amused smile.

You make a heart with your hands for him, but he doesn't really understand what you're doing at first. Only a few seconds later does he remember Lilia doing that one day and explaining to him what it was.

When he realizes this, you watch him widen his eyes in surprise before his smile widens charmingly. You really are full of surprises and he loves that.

He makes the same heart for you, but it ends up being a little crooked, which only makes it cuter.

If any student looks at any of you judgementally, he will receive a frightening and penetrating look from Malleus, causing him to cower in that instant.

Now he doesn't care about class anymore. You definitely made his day. And you can see, if you look at him again, during the rest of the class, him smiling as he looks at you.

Silver really tries hard not to fall asleep in class. So he tries to pay attention to the Professor when he is awake and not to the other students.

But sometimes no matter how attentive you want to be in class, the subject simply bores you so much that you can't pay enough attention, doesn't matter how hard you try.

And it is at these times that a sleepy student starts to look around to try not to fall asleep. This is when he looks at you and coincidentally (or not) you look back at him.

If you smile at him, he will smile at you back, that little smile that on his face means a lot. And then, you decide to make a heart with your hands for him.

He looks slightly confused before abruptly turning his attention back to Professor Trein because he asked the class a question. He doesn't reciprocate your heart, at least not for now, because he's unsure whether you really did it or whether he dreamed it up.

Only after the class is over will he come to you and ask: “Hi, um, did you use your hands to make the shape of a heart?” You say yes. “And was it for me?” You confirm again. “Oh, I’m really sorry I didn't reciprocate. I was a little drowsy and didn't know if it was real or just a good dream. I'm afraid it's a little late now to do the same for you. Is there anything you would like me to do? I would really like to show you that the feeling is mutual.”

Sebek is like a soldier even in class. So he will not take away his attention from class under any (or almost any) circumstances. So you're the one who's going to have to get his attention somehow if you want to do this and see his reaction.

You still consider looking at him until he feels your gaze and looks back at you. But this could take a long time and you might get a warning from the Professor. So, as someone who clearly spends a lot of time with Ace, you crumple up a little piece of paper and throw it at him when the Professor isn't looking.

Like a good soldier trained by Lilia, Sebek catches the paper moments before it reaches his face without difficulty, and looks at you with that extremely disapproving look.

This is your opportunity and you don't waste time making a heart with your hands for him. His disapproving face instantly blushes and he looks away back to the professor. If he opens the paper you threw at him, he will see a heart drawn on it and he will blush again.

No matter how many times he looks at you again during the rest of class, he won't return your heart. You misbehaved, making a student lose attention from class for something so frivolous, you don't deserve a heart made by his hands.

“HUMAN!” He'll call you out in the hallway after class, and scolds you for what you did, saying that you, more than him, should pay attention in class instead of sending papers to distract others. “And just to be clear, I didn't dislike your gesture, but you must not do it in class.”

Let's face it, Lilia doesn't even need to pay attention in Professor Trein’s class. He probably already knows more than he is taught.

So most likely when you look at him, he is already looking at you with his chin resting on his hands. Being cute as always. And he will smile at you.

The plot twist here is that before you can make a heart with your hands for him, he's the one who makes it for you first. If you pout at him because you wanted to be the one doing it first, he'll put on his "I'm innocent" cute face.

You make your heart with your hands to return his and he smiles even more at you. His cheeks even turn slightly pink, making his smile even cuter.

During the rest of the class, whenever your eyes cross, he will make more hearts with his hands for you, in every way he knows how, or just wink at you, if he thinks he can be caught with the hearts.

You must reciprocate them all if you can, otherwise you will have to deal with the weight on your heart of seeing his sad face looking at you with puppy eyes.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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cuubism · 2 months

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i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is

cw injury, referenced abusive relationships

Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.

Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.

But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.

"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."

Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.

"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."

Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.

"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.

"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.

Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"

Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.

He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"

Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.

"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.

"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."

He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.

Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.

(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)

"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"

Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"

"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."

Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.

"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."

Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.

Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.

"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.

Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.

Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."

"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.

"As you insist," Dream says.

Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.

"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."

Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."

"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.

"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."

Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.

"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."

Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.

"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."

He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.

Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."

Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.

#i really am writing the most random indulgent shit this week XD #you know this was a missed opportunity to do 'forbidden romance between a physical therapist and a ballerina' like that ridiculous romance #novel that was going around XD #anyway don't take physical therapy advice from this #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #cw abuse #long post #perhaps i'll write more after my next appointment XD #physical therapy fic

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rogueddie · 8 months

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Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #altorprecanon #this thing has been in my drafts since august 2022 😭

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

#steddie #steddie au #steddie drabble #corporate au #coworkers au #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #yeah so I'm crazy busy and kind of not doing too well #so this is not proofread #but I wanted to put something small together so here you go

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darqx · 24 days

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Snakes on a post

Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.

(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)

That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.

Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;

So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.

So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.

He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.

Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.

Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.

And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)

both

In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.

Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.

I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )

Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:

The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.

Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).

It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d

Not really

His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD

Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽｀)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).

Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.

Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.

There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).

If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D

#boyfriend to death #art #rire answer dump #answer dump #doodle #long post #decided to actually redesign what a naga rire would viably look like since the old design was bad XD

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demieyesore · 1 month

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Tear You Apart - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin's obsession with you is slowly taking over; He keeps hoping it'll just go away but quickly realizes that it won't.

Song inspo - "Tear you apart" by She wants revenge

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, No use of Y/n, AFAB!Reader, ... Cannibal!Anakin ... CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE OKAY ... He doesn't literally eat the reader tho, only sexually LMFAO. Anakin is a serial killer tho. Modern AU, College AU, Stalker!Anakin, Yandere!Anakin, Smoking (I don't smoke or do drugs so idk if I wrote it correctly but whatever) Some 18+ but it's really not full on smut lmfao, more like it's just known that they're doing it

A/N - Okay finally actually deciding to write because I keep thinking about Anakin and this song...

Requested - No

Word Count - 1.5k

Anakin Skywalker, a serial killer that hides behind the name "Darth Vader". He didn't choose this name for himself, it was given to him by the media after his first 3 murders. Well known for killing and eating his victims, people began to avoid leaving the house. The FBI were investigating the deaths, trying to find any trace of him.

They wouldn't ever find him. He knew that. He had been so careful to make sure that nothing lead the cops to him.

Or to you.

You are his everything. His world. All the murders are a symbol of his love for you. Everything he ate from his victims were something you had touched. If he didn't eat it, you didn't touch it. But that doesn't mean he didn't still take anything.

The first victim, a boy in your college class. He simply asked to barrow a pencil but when you gave him the writing utensil, Anakin immediately took notice of how your hand brushed against his.

His eyes narrowed at the frat guy's hand, his tongue poking at his inner cheek in annoyance and frustration.

Why would you touch him? He was dirty. All men are and you should be aware of that. You should be more careful about who you touch. Anakin would think in his mind, scolding you as he makes a note of who the douchebag was.

Two weeks later, he was found dead. His left hand missing and instead resting in Anakin's stomach. Of course from just the first victim, they couldn't assume he was actually eating the victims, they couldn't even be sure that this was a serial killer when there were no other deaths.

The second victim came about a month after that. In honor of the frat boy's passing, you and your friends went to a college party. This party was only about a week after the frat boy passed. You got a little too drunk, you could barely stand upright. What was Anakin supposed to do? Especially after he saw how handsy some guy was being with you? After he saw how he tried to lead you upstairs.

You unfortunately went with him, too drunk to fight back but that's okay! Anakin will take care of you like always.

Anakin saw how the sober party goer kissed you, he had to figure out how to protect you without drawing attention to himself.

He picked up a half empty red solo cup, standing by the staircase as he chucked the cup at your best friend. He swiftly walked away from the stairway, leaning against a doorframe as your best friend turned around.

She was clearly pissed, already a good sign for Anakin. She was scoping out the scenery, looking for who could have thrown the cup at her when she saw you making out against a wall with a dude that definitely was not your type. She stomped up the stairs, grabbing your wrist as she pulled you back downstairs and out of the party.

Anakin smiled to himself, holding a new cup with some kind of alcohol. His eyes drifted to the moron you were kissing. God how he wanted to kiss you too. Jealously spiked in his heart, his eyes darkening already trying to form a plan.

So three weeks later, same thing happened. Another guy found dead. He wasn't missing his hand this time, no it was something more personal.

His tongue.

The tongue that was practically shoved down your throat. He enjoyed cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, wanting him to know that this is what happens when you try to take advantage of someone who's drunk.

This pattern continued, making sure that the murders were far away enough from when you last interacted with the fucking losers.

I mean who would suspect you? Oh yeah, you gave a guy a pencil and he never gave it back? Such good motivation to kill someone.

Now of course, the second one could be motivation but you were so drunk that you didn't even remember it in the morning. And your best friend didn't say anything about it. Anakin would have known if she did, he has spyware installed on all your devices, recording devices in your dorm room and with how often he's watching you, he would of course know.

The other murders he committed were similar, anyone who came into contact with you that he disliked... a couple weeks or even months later, they'd end up dead.

No one put together that it was involved with you. I mean even you didn't. It wasn't like you were dating anyone, he didn't have to kill a boyfriend. Only small... inconveniences.

That old geezer at your job that kept harassing you? Dead, his eyes gouged out.

The girl at the movie theater that was an absolute bitch? She was on a fucking phone call during the whole movie. She was interrupting the date you and Anakin were on! It didn't matter to him that you didn't know you were on a date. It was a movie you were really looking forward to but the cunt couldn't keep her mouth shut. Yeah well, it's fine because she also ended up dead, her ears missing.

Nothing would come between you and Anakin. You may have only talked to him a couple of times, mainly to work on a project but it didn't matter. He knew you thought he was cute. He was watching you even before that.

Anakin didn't even want to like you as much as he does. When he first saw you, he felt a connection. Convinced himself that he was crazy. He would tell himself that he didn't need you. That he wouldn't give into his urges.

It became useless after a while. He was already hooked before you ever spoke to him.

But it solidified when you were stressing yourself out over an exam. You went outside, needing a smoke break. Anakin had been working on a scheme to be able to talk to you. Wanting to make sure how he felt about you before he took it too far.

He watched as you groaned, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and realizing none were left. You swore you had one more left, you rummaged through your bag looking for the last one when he tapped your shoulder.

You turned around, confused with a dazed look on your face when you saw him.

Anakin held out a pack to you. It was your favorite brand and you thanked him as you took one of the cigarettes.

You leaned towards him when he flicked his lighter on. He lit his first, pressing it between his lips as he towered over you slightly, his left hand holding the lighter on while his right hand protected the flame from any wind. Your cigarette ignited as you happily took an inhale of it.

Anakin knew for a fact that he would obsess over this for the next two days even when he told himself that it's only just a crush. It'll go away.

When you smiled up at him he had to repeat his little affirmations to himself, not wanting to be attached.

"It's just like all the others, it'll go away." He thought to himself.

He prayed for it to go away but his obsession just continued to grow.

I guess that's how you got here, underneath him. His obsession, his "crush" just never went away.

Anakin slowly invaded your life, not wanting to frighten you away. He may have eaten parts of people but it was just a metaphor for his love. Something he took a little too seriously.

He'd never hurt you, ever. Not unless he absolutely had to. But even then he wouldn't. He'd only just make threats.

You're too pure for him to hurt.

The only way he'd hurt you, was sexually.

He craved to hold you close, your skin pressed against him tight.

"Lie still, close your eyes..." Anakin would mumble against your lips, pulling himself away as he lined himself up with your entrance. He didn't want this to hurt you too badly.

He'd groan as he pushes himself into you. Thrusting into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size.

Anakin wanted this for so long, he couldn't help but to moan your name into the crevice of your neck as he sped up.

"So-" A whimper escaped his mouth before he finished his sentence.

"So lovely, you feel so right..." His soft breath against your collar bone, you could feel his beating heart in his chest.

He fucked into you deeper, a whisper fleeing his esophagus and into your eardrum.

"I want to fucking tear you apart."

Your hand brushed up against his, leaving it there. You told him how you felt, how much you loved him as you were both locked in a stare.

Anakin's movements slowed at your confession, taking a moment to process what you just said before his lips met your again.

You weren't sure of how he felt, whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last.

Either way, Anakin wanted you and this was bad. He wanted, wants, to do things to you. It was making him crazy.

A little crush turned into a like.

Anakin grabbed you by your hair, gripping it roughly and told you.

"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight."

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