#everyone thinks they’re so smart and just fucking condescends to me
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#i started a new job and i already don’t like the vibes#it starts early and it’s super competitive#i haven’t been gendered correctly once#(despite my pronouns being in my zoom name)#it feels like people are going out of their way to gender me wrong#i started with a black guy whose name is similar to (but different from!!!) a much more common name and so many people mispronounce it#(even tho the spelling is different)#everyone thinks they’re so smart and just fucking condescends to me#(i’m obviously learning from them but the way they fucking talk!!)#im just kind of grappling with the fact that this is what my life will look like for the foreseeable future#and it’s making me fucking sad#i was excited to take this job bc it would leave my evenings free for me to do standup more often#but they lied about both the hours and the amount of physical labor involved and i’m worried i won’t have the time/energy to do that either#and if i want another job i have to go through the whole fucking job hunt again which SUCKS#anyways
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Chapter Seven: Hell is Forever
“Okay, so, Charlie and Quasi are dealing with something very important, so while they’re gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents the hotels vision and what we're doing here. So, we need a camera…Alastor?” Vaggie said glaring at the radio demon. Alastor snapped his finger conjuring up a camera for Vaggie; however, the camera was an old fashioned folding-camera from the 1930s.
“A video camera?” Vaggie said annoyed. “Hmmm.” Alastor snaps his finger and conjures
up a video camera that's poorly made with pieces of tape keeping it together. “Alright! Let's do this!”
Vaggie switched on the camera pointing it towards the bar as she hit record. Husk sat behind the counter reading a script in his claws with Angel Dust at the opposite counter. “And…Action!”
Husk carefully read the lines on his script, bringing the script closer to his face. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Can I help with anything?" He read
Angel hopped up on the bar top. "I've been a bad boy, and I need a big, strong daddy to put me in my place…on the path to redemption!" Husk groaned with annoyed and read the script again. "Well, you come— Oh, yes!" Angel Dust fake moaned.
Board Husk finished his line. - "to the right place."
Vaggie stopped recording. Annoyed. “Cut! Okay, Angel, I need you to be less horny if possible, and Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face.”
“I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit!” Husk said annoyed. “Well, we could improv this shit, baby cakes.” Angel said getting closer to Husk's face.
“Rrawwr.” Said Angel purring seductively. Husk irritated shoves Angel off of the counter hard. “Whoops.”
”Husk, come on.” Vaggie said annoyed.
Meanwhile back in the heaven embassy both quasi and Charlie sat listening to the Angel leader talk… and boy did he talk. “So, I was playin' this gig, and for some fuckin' reason, this virtue chick was diggin' on the drummer, and it's like, "do you know who I am? I'm fuckin' Adam. I'm the original dick! All dicks descend from me. You think you want drummer dick?”
“ No way! I'm the Dick-fuckin' master!” The angel paused eating more of his ribs “So, anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?”
“Wait, your name is Adam? Like the first man Adam, that means you…Oh….That explains so much.” Charlie said cringing. “Yeah I’ll say quasi muttered quiet enough so that Adam wouldn’t hear him. He hadn’t expected “The” Adam to be an angel much less a disgusting person.
It was no wonder his stepmother Lilith left him. He was condescending, vulgar and just plain annoying. And yet it made sense. “Perhaps angels aren’t what I thought they were after all.”
“I know. I Know. I fucking rock. “
Adam said.
Charlie brushed off the awkwardness from Adam and gets to subject at hand.
“Well, Adam, sir. Mr. Adam, sir.
“Call me, Dickmaster.”
“How about no.” Quasi coughed. Adam glanced in his direction quasi sat in the corner tapping his feet whistling as if he’d never spoken the entire time in this meeting. Charlie looked at her brother pleading for him to be patient. “You seem like a smart …well, stand up guy.”
“Uh-huh.” Adam said picking at his teeth. “And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a big thinker, a revolutionary. A— A genius!” Charlie said clearly stroking Adam’s ego in order to get through to him.
“I mean, your words, babe.”
“Who would really love to put his name on something.”
“Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!”
“It's a solution to our biggest problem!” Charlie said.
“Oh, Herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.” Charlie sighed. “No!”
“Our... other biggest problem.” Charlie said. “Oh…uh..ugly people?”
“Uh hello? I’m right here.” Quasi said annoyed as Adam Ranted on.
“Math? Global Warming? Nah, wait, that's Earth's problem Ummm”...Charlie and quasi exchanged glances realizing that this might be a long meeting.
Back at the hotel Vaggie was still trying to get everyone to focus on their scenes for the new commercial. However not everyone was paying attention or cared. “Stab! Stab! Stab!”
Nifty shouted gleefully as she tried to kill a roach with a sewing needle. However before she could land the killing blow Vaggi interrupted her. “Alright Niffty, Niffty. Niffty! Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms", okay?”
“Got it. I'm ready.” Nifty said smiling a sharp toothed smile.
Vaggie turned the camera to Niffty. “Action!”
However instead of saying her line, Niffty freezes and stares blankly into the camera without blinking. Vaggie turns of the camera looking puzzled. Angel peers in backing away clearly creeped out.
“Uhh, cut.” Vaggie says.
Whatever trance Nifty had been in seemed to disappear as she snaps out of it back to her cheerful self. “How was that?” Nifty said giggling. “Well, Niffty you actually have to say the line, so let's roll again.”
“Ok!”
“Action!”
However the same thing happens again and Niffty freezes, leaving Vaggie irritated.
“You're doing great, Vagina.” Angel said mocking her.
“Cut! Alright, uhh maybe we can try to fix it in post.” Vaggie said frustrated. “Do you even know what that means?”
“I'll figure it out!” Vaggie snapped as she stormed off.
Vaggie groaned aggravated as she looked through the footage. This shit was terrible! There was no way she could salvage any of this before Charlie got home. She was beginning to think it was all hopeless. “Seems like you're having a bit of a trouble there, hmm?”
Alastor said appearing out of thin air. “Ugh, este pendejo ( Spanish for this asshole)... Why are you even here?” Vaggie cursed. Alastor took a seat on the couch across from her.
“Why for the entertainment.”
Alastor’s shadow appeared behind him on the wall laughing at vaggi. “I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly, like you are doing now. Good job!” Vaggie stood up. She was getting tired of Alastor’s crap. She turns her camera toward him.
“-And here is Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that”— however as Vaggie panned the camera up to Alastor's face, the video camera glitched violently from green to red causing Vaggie to freak out and drop the camera on the floor.
“I wouldn't try that, my dear.”Alastor Said pointing at his face. “This face was made for radio.”
Alastor said menacingly as his pupils turned into the shape of radio dials, and the world around them seemed to warp before returning to normal.
That’s it! She’d had it with Alastor's insults.
“That's it. I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you're going to make this work, because it won't be so "entertaining” to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?” Vaggie swore as she returned to her chair.
“Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.” Vaggie scoffed. “Pfft, you think I'm that stupid making a deal with a demon like you?” Alistor laughed.
“Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.” Vaggie had second thoughts about letting Alastor do the work for her… but what choice did she have.
“Or…Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing. Your choice.”
Vaggie glances away for a brief moment before making her decision. “Fine.”
Vaggie picks up the camera and gives it to Alastor, which he evaporates it with a clap of his hand.
“Now then!” Alastor snaps his finger and transforms the hotel into a film set and the hotel staff into a 50s style film crew. Ink demons are conjured up as additional background characters.
“Alright everyone, let's make a fucking commercial.”
-“When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check but you're like, Hey, I thought you wanted equality." Adam says in a high pitched voice. “NO! our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!” Charlie shouted exhausted.
Adam frowned then laughed. “Ohh, well that's not a problem! We got that covered!” Adam said turning to the angel in black and white armor. “Lute, how many demons did you kill this year?”
“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”
“275? Woah! Badass! Awesome job, danger tits! Pound it.”
Quasi glared at Adam eyes glowing red. “Wow this guy is a sexist piece of trash how’d this guy even get into heaven.” Quasi thought to himself. “Can I please beat him up now. He’s starting to get on my nerves, the prince said annoyed.”
“Keep it together.” Charlie whispered. Quasi huffed. “Fine.” Charlie turned her attention to Adam and Lute.
“Uh no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that right?” Adam frowned. “Oh yeah… that must suck for you!” Adam said bursting into laughter.
Quasi glared at furiously nails turning into sharp black claws as they tore into the metal table with ease. “But these are souls...Humans souls just the same as the ones you have up in heaven.” Charlie pleaded.“They're not the same.” Lute said rather coldly.
“They had their chance and they earned damnation.”
Charlie shook her head. “You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”
“Angels don't make mistakes.” Lute said glaring at her. Quasi stepped in front of his sister.
“You really think that.” Lute glared at him.
“I know that. Lute said. “Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life.” Adam said. “I doubt that.”
Quasi said laughing.
“The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?” Quasi glared at her. “Except I’m not hell born I’m an Angel.” He said unfurling his wings.
“I know what you are, Halfbreed that doesn’t change the what you are. You’re abomination, a bastard! You’re nothing more than a mistake! And your father… he’s no longer one of us.”Quasi growled. Fallen or not my father will always be a better angel than any of you!”
Adam yawned board by the scene and just wanting to get the meeting over with. “Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it.” Quasi was about to loose his temper and yell at Adam that they were done but Charlie disrupted the awkward tension.
“Oh fuck!” Charlie summoned a stack of papers. “Oh no.” Quasi thought with dread. “Charlie don’t. Please don’t.” He prayed silently however his wishes went unheard.
“Okay I've got a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't hearing me before so here it goes.”
Charlie: ♫ I know Hell’s population is out of control. ♫
♫ It's a bad situation. ♫
♫ It's taking a toll. ♫
♫ If we rehab these sinners . ♫
A
♫ And cleanse all their souls. ♫
♫ At my Hazbin Hotel—♫
[Charlie sang as she shifted through the stacks of paper to get something.
Charlie: “Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself!”
♫ Right! Extermination ! ♫
♫ I know you guys fly down. ♫
♫ Just to kill once a year. ♫
“Charlie”
♫ And it must be annoying. ♫
♫ To schlep all the way here. ♫
♫ If they join you in Heaven. ♫
♫ That trip disappears! ♫
♫ You can wave that chore farewell. ♫ Charlie sang taking a deep breath as she held up a drawing of angels and demons holding hands.
♫ It'll be a happy day in— Let me stop you right there. ♫ Adam sang. Charlie: Oh—Okay.
Adam: ♫ Save us all precious time. ♫
Adam: ♫ If what you're suggesting. ♫
♫ Is letting them climb. ♫
♫ Up the ladder. ♫
♫ Oh, they'd rather cross the Pearly Gate? ♫
Charlie: “Well, uh—♫ Sorry, sweetie. But there's no defyin' their fates! ♫
♫ 'Cause Hell is forever. ♫
♫ Whether you like it or not. ♫
♫ Had their chance to behave better. ♫
♫ Now they boil in the pot. ♫
♫ 'Cause the rules are black and white. ♫
♫ There's no use in tryin' to fight it. ♫
♫ They're burnin' for their lives. ♫
♫ Until we kill 'em again! ♫
Charlie: Okay, but—
Adam: ♫ Just try to chillax, babe. ♫
♫ You're wasting your breath. ♫
Charlie: Hehe...
Adam: ♫ Did I hear you imply. ♫
♫ That they don't deserve death?
♫ Are they Winners? ♫
♫ Are they Sinners? ♫
♫ 'Cause it's cut and dry. ♫
Charlie: “Well, actually, if you take a look—♫ Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! ♫ Adam said flying up to the ceiling.
♫ And when all's said and done (Said and done) ♫
♫ There's the question of fun (Fun) ♫
♫ And for those of us with Divine Ordainment. ♫ “please tell me he’s not going to say what I think he’s going to say?”
♫ Extermination is entertainment! ♫
“And… he said it.” Quasi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This guy didn’t care about anyone but himself. He enjoyed the suffering of others. Not all sinners were bad… Angel was nice to him… sometimes.
♫ Bow-now-now-nownow ♫
♫ Guitar solo, fuck yeah! ♫ Adam sang. “And now he’s playing air guitar course he is god this guys annoying.”
Adam finished his guitar solo as he started to sing again.
♫ Hell is forever. ♫
♫ Whether you like it or not. ♫
♫ Had their chance to behave better. ♫
[Four golden mirages of Exorcists appeared from the walls surrounding him and Charlie from all sides.
Charlie: “Where the hell did you people come from?!” Charlie shouted. Quasi jumped in front of her knocking the golden Angels back with a sweep of his wings.
♫ -Now they boil in the pot. ♫
♫ 'Cause the rules are black and white. ♫
♫ There's no use in tryin' to fight it. ♫
♫ They're burnin' for their lives. ♫
♫ Until we kill 'em again! ♫ Adam sang summoning an actual guitar this time.
♫ Fuckin' Hell's forever. ♫
♫ And it's meant to suck a lot. ♫
♫ So give up your dumb endeavor. ♫
♫ 'Cause you don't have a shot♫
Quasi growled barring sharp pointed teeth, wings spread blood red eyes filled with hatred. However he wasn’t the only one who got angry. Charlie transformed into her demonic form as well glaring at Adam.
♫ Long as I've got your attention.♫
♫ I guess I should probably mention. ♫
♫ That we made the determination. ♫ Adam said holding up a gold scroll in front of Quasi’s face that read “Fuck you I do what a want.”
♫ To move up the next Extermination! ♫ “w-what but you can’t- What?!” Charlie said shocked.
♫ Can't wait a whole year. ♫
♫ To slaughter those little cunts.♫
♫ I know it's just been a week. ♫
♫ But we'll be back in six months! ♫
Despite being a hologram, Adam grabs Charlie and Quasi’s wrist and throws them right out of the door. “Um, wait, you-you… Adam slams the door in her face. -Ugh, SHIT!”
Charlie rested her head against the door tears in her eyes. “Don’t worry sis I’ll take it from here. I’m going to have a little talk with Adam.” He growled as he pushed the door open and shut it behind him.
“What the fuck!” Adam said startled when the door flew open. “Listen here you pompous ass my sisters worked really hard on this and I’m not about to let someone like you destroy everything she’s worked for.”
“Oh really what are you going to do about it… freak.” Quasi glared at him. “You forget who you’re talking to… I’m the prince of hell.” Adam scoffed. “Oh please, no one in hell actually takes your family seriously.”
“They might not now… but they will… when I stop you.” Adam laughed. “Heh, sure you will. Tell me… do you really want a war with heaven?” Quasi hesitated.
“He’s right. Your people will just suffer more if you try to fight back. Do you really want to put your people through that?” Lute said. “N-no I… Quasi felt suddenly felt small and helpless like when he was a child. The angels eyes felt like daggers.
“Give up. It’s better this way- No!” Quasi shouted shoving the exorcist angel away. “I’m not going to give up on my people I’ll show you you’re wrong!” Quasi stormed out of the room.
Charlie looked up at him shocked and confused. “Come on Charlie… let’s go home.” As They walked back in Silence to the hotel quasi thought about his conversation with Adam. What had he been thinking challenging a powerful angel like Adam. “You didn’t challenge him. You just… lost your fucking temper.” A small voice said In the back of his mind.
Technically this was the first time he’d ever sworn today considering how he’d yelled at that flasher demon or how he’d talked to Adam. He never would have cursed back home. He’d only been here two days and it already felt like hell was changing him. His powers seemed far more demonic than angelic…”I guess that’s what happens when your father’s a fallen angel and the king of hell.” Said the small voice again.
“When angel falls to hell their power changes your a nephilim, half angel half human. Your father is fallen and your fallen and there's nothing you can do to change that.” The voice almost sounded like… like “him.” Quasi shuddered. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Quasi sighed. “I hope I know what I’m doing.” ******************************************
When They got back to the hotel Vaggie was waiting for them. “How did it go, did they listen?” Charlie smiled nervously. “Oh, they sure did… hear it But-Oh come here, we have something exciting to show you.” Vaggie said pulling them both over to the couch.
“Alastor pulled some strings and it's about to air.” Vaggie said excitedly. “I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!” Alastor laughed. “Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?”
Quasi smiled happy for his sister. “Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself.” Angle bragged. Charlie smiled tears in her eyes. “That's... that's amazing.”
“Sshh, it's starting.” Angel said excited. Vaggie stood in the center of the group in a dress while Alastor hid in the corner of the screen. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel… suddenly the tv cuts to the news. Everyone except Alastor and Niffty get annoyed and complain. “Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before.” The news woman said. “Do you know what that means, Tom?” “No, what does that mean, Katie?” “It means we're all royally fucked!” She says her eye twitching. The screen switches showing the clock as the time on the Clock Tower reduces to 176 days till the next Extermination. “Wait, what? Why?!” Angel says confused. “Shit… this is bad.” Quasi thinks to himself. Far away from the hotel a drone scours the area until it finds a dead Exorcist corpse with its head missing. The drone scans the corpse. Sending images back to Adam and Lute at the heaven embassy. “We found the body, sir. They've never managed to kill one of us before.” “We should just go down there now and destroy them!” Lute snapped. “No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But, don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this again!”
#quasimodo#the-hunchback-of-notre-dame#charlie morningstar#vaggie hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#angel dust#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin hotel husk#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#Magic#heaven and hell#demons and angels#serious topics such as sa and abuse#ptsd#redemption#explict language#lgbtq#gay character#friends to lovers#gay romance#polyamarous relationship#fear of intimacy#fluff and angst#hurt/comfort
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VIOLENCE AND BLOOD AND MAKING EVERYBODY MAD. 1, 19, and 25 >:)
SAE 0W-20. Oh oops. Wrote this in notes app so. Here, have my car’s motor oil flavor
Anyway I think I’ll do ace attorney bc that’s the one I’ve been Most aware of its fandom
1 — character everyone gets wrong
There are several,,, but the ones that peeve me the most are Maya and Franziska
Maya’s often flattened into memester burger queen comedic relief who dispenses Romantic advice to make nrmt happen. It’s such a waste when she’s got So much happening and is pretty damn smart
Similarly, Franziska is sidelined even More and is reduced to Angry Meanie and also a prop to encourage nrmt. I find that the average franziska portrayal is really one-note and is just like “Haha she says fool and whips people” which sucks bc again she has So much unexplored complexity in the games And in fandom that people wouldn’t hesitate to explore if she were a male character instead
And also these tend to combine into really boring franmaya just to make sunshine/grump happen. Or again, they’re off to the side or used only as a vehicle for nrmt development.
Or like… I’ve seen ppl think Maya was head over heels for Franziska from Day One like. No??? Wtf? I think Maya had More Important Things on her mind than like. “Ooh that person prosecuting me is kinda hot👀”
I can’t even elaborate Too much bc I’d be here all day but. Also criminally misportrayed is Phoenix. He is not uwu sunshine bleeding heart heart on his sleeve. And neither is Ryuunosuke.
Ok one more salt. Temenos OctopathTraveler2 wasn’t Madly In Love with Crick. Also he is Not as horny/flirty as many are portraying him as…. He outright said staves don’t need sheaths smh my head
19 — smth I’m mad/ashamed I actually kinda like
My lawyer says I don’t have to answer this question
(jk)
Idk if Shame/anger is the word for it. But I want to study kristoph under a microscope and also purposefully zoom in too far so that he gets crushed when the long magnifier breaks the slide glass
It’s more like… I don’t want to be associated w people who like genuinely think he was just misunderstood 🥺 uwuuu he was in WUV, he had a bad childhood. or the opposite, with ppl who go a lot darker in their interpretation bc that’s just not smth I want to think about
Cuz like. Obviously this guy fucking sucks and I hate him but also he’s sooooo pathetic that it’s funny
And also I think it’s interesting to think about like, what being friends (or “friends”) with someone like that for Seven Years does to Phoenix. Bc I lov putting that man through the wringer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
25 — common fandom complaint sick of hearing
Any apologism and vehement defense of shitty male characters lol
Godot’s shitty condescending misogynistic remark at franziska wasn’t a mistranslation. He calls her a shrew/unruly woman, basically says “that’s enough princess, it’s adult time” (notably using “-Chan”, where Phoenix calls her Von Karma Kenji [“prosecutor von karma”]). This line was translated to “But you can go now, princess. It's time for the big boys to take the reins.” So like…. Where’s the misinterpretation 🤨
And also he says “I don’t like talkative women”. There might be more nuance there that google translate can’t capture but like. That’s Still a sexist thing to say.
Just admit ur horny for godot and don’t care about women
Mvk doesn’t have lead poisoning; he’s an emotionally abusive parent and shitty person. Like u don’t even have to squint at the games to come to that conclusion. Kin memories and brainless analysis won’t disprove that. Sometimes abusers can even do nice things or genuinely love someone, but that doesn’t mean they’re not abusive
Barok van Zieks doesn’t have a Redemption arc from his Constant Indefensible Racism. You clowns are just horny and have bad taste.
#me thinking abt fandom bs: for one dollar care about a woman#very glad I replaced Twitter with a crossword habit bc now I see 100% fewer bad opinions#and unfortunately the block feature on here [I never use desktop. too lazy so no xkit] doesn’t stop me from seeing rbs of their posts#or their rb commentary on someone else’s post#but Bad Opinions always find a way to surface#and lbr we will never see the end of sexism in fandom in this lifetime#I’m going to go for a little walk now
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.stay mine (c.)
.content warning jealousy fuck, smut, nsfw, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, edging, use of the word slut, possessiveness
.pairing choso x fem!reader
.synopsis you're a shaman that works alongside geto, mahito and choso, doing a lot of dirty work for them. you get a little handsy on the job and choso has to punish you for it.
.a/n this is for a friend LOL. late birthday gift for her. this plot was so fun to work with. LMAO THIS IS SO LATE LIKE- IT REALLY SHOULDN’T HAVE TAKEN ME THIS LONG. i also did not proof read so any errors will be fixed later on ok bye lollolololo
.WC 4.1K
“C’MON, Y/N, LET’S PLAY FOR A LITTLE BIT LONGER.”
you rolled your finger around inside your itchy ear with blase eyes, annoyed with mahito’s childish pleading. fighting with him was fun and all, but he never knew when to take a break. “i already said no, mahito. i’ve been gone too long. my mission was simple and didn’t take long. they’re expecting me to be back.”
getou plunked down in an arm chair, a presumptuous grin on his face. no matter what was going on, he seemed to be entertained by the shenanigans around him. he was almost always relaxed, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him irate or upset that often. however, he carried a bothersome, condescending attitude. he didn’t bother you much, but when he spoke you wanted to deck him in the back of the neck sometimes.
“get back to work.”
you snapped your head at the recognizable, profound voice that came from the entryway of the hideout. you smirk once you saw choso’s face. “someone’s eager for me to leave.” thinking that you had let your guard down, mahito was preparing to land a kick to your head, yet your reflexes and fringe vision permit you to snatch him by the lower leg and pummel his body into the ground. “i said enough mahito.”
he madly giggles with a crazed look in his eyes. you shake your head and bring your attention away from him. choso approached you, his steps echoed throughout the big space.
“not eager, but you’re gonna screw shit up if you don’t get back there soon,” he warns you. he was right and you sighed while smiling, caressing his face and rubbing a finger under his drained eyes. he pushed your hands away gently. he didn’t favor being handsy like this in front of the others. “go.” with a huff, you fix your uniform a bit, flattening down your skirt, before walking out the entryway and making your way to jujutsu tech.
carrying on with this twofold life could get somewhat confounding at times. you were unable to translate who you truly were, however it didn't make any difference to you much. you simply needed to be any place choso was, or doing something for him. in the wake of saving your life in an oddity mishap involving your power and showing you the true worth of your cursed energy, he took you under his wing. he acquainted you to his little “group” that consisted of three other people; mahito, jogo, getou and hanami. you didn’t favor anyone besides choso, involuntarily attached to him and how he treated you. sentiments were reciprocated, being that he had met you subsequent to losing his brothers and you were the lone individual with a human heart that minded or could even feel genuine compassion by any means. everyone in this circle had goals, but you just wanted to be around choso.
sharing a bond together eventually lead to other relations. sexual relations. kissing him was like a drug. touching him was that of a blessing. being touched by him was a gift from god himself. growing up an orphan in and out of shelters your entire life, you had never felt true love, true affection, but you were sure this is what it was like with choso. as close as the two of you were, he kept his distance sometimes. conceivably in light of the fact that he didn’t want to lose you and find himself hurt again. he didn’t claim you as his or exclusively claimed you as his partner. he simply acknowledged you as “the thing he gets to fuck now and then.” you didn’t know if those words were supposed to hurt or not.
arriving back at jujutsu tech, you noticed it was fairly empty. the students must’ve been sent back to their dorms already. was there really a point in coming back here? you gave your report to masamichi and he thanked you graciously for handling the job. you were given the go to leave, but you were stopped in the hallway by a familiar face - one of your mentors. gojo satoru. he was the man you had to watch out for if you ever had to fight him at some point. he was the strongest shaman in the world and he could end your life in two seconds if he wanted to.
he was nine years older than you, looking good for his age of 28. he had a priggish smile on his face and he leaned against a wall, looking at you, even though his eyes were covered by a black blindfold. “hi, gojo,” you hesitantly greeted him.
“y/n,” he sung your name out as he sat up from the wall, inching closer to you with each steady step he took. “glad you came back safe from your mission.” he got uncomfortably close to you and you took two, small steps back.
“yeah...” you say softly. “did you need me for something?”
gojo chuckled before he took his blindfold off, revealing his magnificent, blue irises. you broke eye contact, suddenly feeling shy. “i do need something from you, but...you’re young. i don’t know if you’d shy away from the idea or not.” his voice was nearing a whisper, his tone was teasing.
you were frozen in place, not sure how to respond to his lewd words. could this get you any more information than you already had? no, this could possibly form a bond between the two of you. a faux trust. he’d never suspect you if you got close enough to him.
you’re entire demeanor changed, feigning a seductive smile while bringing your hand to his cheek. “i’m young, but i’m legal, gojo,” you say as your eyes land on his lips that were coated with lip balm, making them appear glossy. “and experienced,” you add.
you don’t know what you were expecting but you felt your heart dive to the lower part of your stomach when gojo had set his cherry-flavored lips on yours. you didn’t kiss back, eyes wide open, too in shock to give him a proper reaction. the only one who ever kissed you was choso. choso. but you couldn’t fully see the harm in it...
you couldn’t see any harm in getting into gojo’s car, stepping into his home, stripping naked in front of him, having him impale your hole with his long cock, having him kiss your lips with hunger, having him leave hickeys along your neck, collarbone and breasts... he even promised to keep you around. you didn’t see the harm in it at all. he must’ve had his eye on you for some time - he fucked you like a feral animal, but he whimpered like a bitch like he had been dying to plunge his dick inside of your wet cunt for months.
after a short cat-nap, you woke up besides gojo. he snored lightly, no blankets over his half- bare body and he had his back to you. you decided it was a good time to leave, getting off the king-sized bed and picking up your garments that were sprawled on the floor. you freshened up in his bathroom, got dressed and left his house without waking him.
you took a taxi to get to the area in which the hideout was in, careful not to let anyone get to close. you walked along the trail until you approached the broken door of the soiled house, wondering when they’ll be switching locations. it was late, but getou, mahito and choso were up playing a board game in the assumed living room.
getou’s slanted eyes rolled up to look at you. “you’re back later than usual.”
“yeah...” choso mumbles. his back was turned to you as he was analyzing the game they were playing, ensuring that his next move was a smart one.
mahito chuckles when he sees you. “surprised you were gone for so long, y/n. you hate being departed from your choso-kun,” he teases. you feigned exacerbation and chuckled. “where were you?”
“with gojo,” you answered him nonchalantly.
“oh?” getou’s head rose to fully look at you.
choso’s neck turned to take a gander at you. his stresses over the game had immediately disseminated and he was more worried with regards to why you looked so unkempt and had hickeys scattered around your neck. “did you fuck him?”
“yeah.” you dropped your belongings on a chipped, wooden table. you yawned while taking off the tight, uniform jacket, pulling it off of your arms with your as clothes. “thought it’d be good to keep him wrapped around my finger so that he trusts me mor-”
those strong, pragmatic reflexes from earlier today had bombed you just now, for you were cut off by your own gasp when choso had pulled you by the collar of your white dress shirt. his knuckles became white and his dark strands of hair that curtained his face scarcely concealed the compromising glare that his cold eyes were giving you.
betrayal, all choso could feel was betrayal. sure, you weren’t his partner and he couldn’t bring himself to claim you as his, but he didn’t expect you to go out and fuck someone other than him. it was a selfish assumption, but choso was too caught up in the moment to give a damn about being fair right now.
“so you gave your body away to some fucking stranger?!” choso fervently reprimanded you, fixing the grasp on your shirt. mahito watched with a goofy smile on his face while getou put a hand to his temple, cocking his head to the side as if he was trying to predict what would happen next.
“i-i-i...ch-choso...he’s n-not a stranger... i thought-” you stammered on your words, frightened by the way he manhandled you. choso never wanted to hurt you before. he brought his free hand, raising it up in the air before the back of his lanky hand hit against your cheek, causing you to yelp as your eyes began to burn with fresh tears.
he scoffs when he notices you’re on the verge of crying. he lets go of your shirt and grabs a handful of your hair before yanking your head as he walked out of the living room, going up the squeaky, unstable steps of the house. it felt like a thousand needles had hit your scalp as he dragged you by your hair up into the empty bedroom. the room, for the most part, was empty excluding a decent mattress that you had been sleeping on for the past few nights. he threw you onto the mattress after slamming the door shut.
“since when did you become a slut?” he snaps at you. you swallowed at his words as you sat up on the mattress. after locking the door he comes to the bed to lean over you, push you down, and snatch your wrists. one was pinned above your head while the other was pinned beside it. he had your body caged and all you could do was ball your hands up into fists and look away to avoid his menacing gaze. “answer me.”
“choso, did i hurt you?” you gave answered his question with a question. he narrowed his eyes as he studied your appearance. your face was covered in desperation, obviously flushed from getting pinned down this way. although you looked away, your guilt-ridden eyes came back to him, holding innocence. your nipples were showing through your dress shirt and and the hickeys on your skin just made you look ten times more obscene than you already did.
“you disgust me...” he sneered, nostrils flaring with anger. both of you were terrible at answering questions. he gripped your wrists tighter, he might as well have ripped your skin. “your body is diseased. are you fucking proud of yourself?”
your breath hitched, the insults hurt more than the slap he gave you moments ago. you felt extremely humiliated by the fact that this slander was slipping out from his lips with no problem. “i didn’t feel like i belonged to you...” your voice was laced with shame and inferiority.
“but you do.” his words had your mind spinning a mile a minute, confused because his actions didn’t align with this statement. they also had you spinning for another reason: you were suddenly in heat, legs squirming once you felt yourself drooling with juices. everything about this was embarrassing, you couldn’t help the fact that being degraded like this was so fucking hot. you even frowned when one of his hands let go of one of your wrists. he looks down to see your legs moving and lifts up your skirt to find you dampening your cotton panties. “you’re getting off to this, aren’t you?” you didn’t answer him, closing your eyes shut as you tried to hump yourself instead. he shifted his knee in between your legs and it just barely brushed against your warmth.
“choso, please...i want you. i want to show you i’m sorry,” you whined, still squirming in his grasp. you grinded yourself against his knee, panting heavily with desperation. “i’m so sorry...”
choso was tired of your bitching, growing more irritated by the second, yet yearning for you all at the same time. he wanted to teach you a lesson. he needed to. how dare you assume you could fuck anyone else besides him just because he didn’t claim you? he hoped that you’d know just by a mutual feeling, but maybe he expected too much from you. you were still dense, young and highly immature. he found you to be somewhat of an airhead sometimes. for fuck’s sake, you couldn’t even process that what choso was feeling was simply envy and betrayal right now.
he pulled down his pants, full taking them off before rubbing himself through his boxers, groaning at how it stood against his thigh, pulsating for her. he hated that he was aroused by her in this state. he truly wanted to just hate you, he really did. but he couldn’t. he needed you just as much as you needed him.
your hand reached out to touch his face but he slapped it away harshly. “choso, say something, please,” you whined once more, fully ticking him off at this point. he took off his underwear swiftly before grabbing you by your hair again.
he stood on his knees, guiding your head to face his stiff, cock. he didn’t want to hear you right now. the only thing he wanted to hear was you slobbering his dick with your wet mouth. he wanted to hear you gagging and choking on his throbbing dick. he poked your lips with his flushed tip that was considerably a dark hue than the remainder of his length. you parted your lips to give him access into your mouth. your cheeks went hollow as you began to suck him off, fisting whatever you couldn't reach with your small hands. you didn’t expect much from this until his tip kissed the back of your throat, daring to go any farther.
for the first time, he pushed your head down, forcing you to take every inch of his cock inside your wet, warm mouth. he murmured with fulfillment as he watched your throat swell, mouth completely loaded down with his veiny cock. nothing else could be heard in the room other than the vulgar regurgitating and gargling that came from your mouth. his balls slapped against your chin rhythmically as he began to slowly buck his hips. spit trickled down to your chin, tears littered in the corner of your eyes - he was ruthless with the way he face fucked you, not seeing you as the person he cared so deeply for. you were simply just a cocksleeve to him right now. your jaw ignited with torment as it began to ache, your throat inflamed, air consistently being dissuaded. meanwhile, choso shamelessly grunted and groaned, feeling anything but discomfort. your mouth took his cock so well each time it slid down. he put a hand on your neck just to feel himself encroach the walls of your throat with each thrust.
a violent and desperate scratch on his thigh was all it took for him to stop. he pulled away from your mouth and you gasped as you fell back onto the mattress, trying to receive as much air as you possibly could. you went into a hacking fit, holding your sore throat with half-lidded eyes.
he watched you recover, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you look. “i bet if gojo asked you to take i down like that you would, right?” his words sounded like white noise, your brain excessively fluffed out to fathom anything he said to you.
“keep talking to me like that...” you responded to him in a raspy voice, standing up on your knees, supporting the scruff of his neck as you inclined in to suck on spots you knew by heart.
he looked down at you like you had lost your fucking mind. he might’ve completely broke you - or maybe you had enjoyed this all along and didn’t know until now. “bet you hiked up your skirt in front of the bastard on purpose, yeah? desperate for some fucking attention, selling yourself out like the slut you are, hm?”
he pulled your skirt off of your legs while your lips were still latched onto his pale flesh, giving it splotches of color with every love mark you left on him. your thigh highs that concealed your legs remained on for choso’s own pleasure. you took one hand and unfastened your dress shirt, uncovering your exposed bosoms under it and choso helped to pull it off of your arms. his hand then reached to the space between your thighs, pinching your skin in numerous places before rubbing two fingers against wet core. your cunt was so swollen that he could see the outline of your lips pressing against the cotton of your underwear.
he grabbed the back of your neck and gently pressed the sides of it with his fingers, pulling you off of his skin. his lustful eyes gazed into yours. “you’re mine and you’re gonna stay mine. you belong to me...say it with me.” his two fingers have now pushed aside your panties, slowly rubbing your puffy clit.
“you belong to me.”
“i belong to you.”
and he was going to make sure you didn’t forget it.
he dipped his fingers right into your core at the sound of your voice, causing you to go weak in the knees, holding onto his chest for momentum. you fell like a feather when he pushed you down onto the mattress, head rolling as you felt his fingers massaging your walls. you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth and your top lip, just barely biting the flesh, closing your eyes. choso’s fingers were coated in your juices as they plunged into your hole repeatedly. he moved them in a scissoring motion, procuring a few whimpers from you. you squirmed as his fingers stretched your opening and he held you down by pushing down on your thigh. his fingers pecked your g-spot before he was deliberately ramming into it, bringing you closer to your release.
“i’m gonna’...i’m gonna cum!” you cried, setting yourself up for overpowering delight you were going to feel, just to be left on the edge of your climax when choso pulled out your fingers. you mindlessly reached for his wrist, trying to pull him back to your cunt but he pulled away aggressively with a smirk on his face. your cunt clenched around nothing, desperately yearning for a release.
his fingers hastily flicked your clit, sending waves of euphoria throughout your body, your orgasm just two or three flicks away and once he sees your straining face, he stops again.
“fuck choso! fucking quit it!” you were more frustrated than aroused, on the verge of losing your fucking mind.
“sluts don’t get to-”
he couldn’t finish his sentence because you had suddenly straddled him, your legs on either side of one of his legs as you gripped onto his shoulders. a chill ran down his spine once he felt your bloated, drooling cunt on his bare skin. you frantically humped his thigh, not giving a shit about how pathetic you looked.
choso watched you throw your head back as you drove yourself to your climax. you needed it so bad. you’d probably kill for this fucking orgasm. choso felt your thighs vibrating viciously against his leg as you drew nearer to your delivery, the speed of your hips wavering without wanting to. he chose to be permissive and snatched your hips, grating your hot cunt against his skin.
“if you’re gonna cum, then cum already...” he aggressively encouraged her through a hushed voice, panting as her body brushed against his aching cock.
“i’m cumming, i’m-” you screwed your eyes shut once you felt every cell of your body completely evaporate for one quick second before coming back all at once. your toes curled, your grip on his shoulders got tighter and your stomach convulsed uncontrollably. you felt embarrassed by the fact that he could make you so desperate, so needy, yearning for pleasure.
“greedy fucking bitch...” he growled. the whines that whimsically got away from your lips had moved toward a boisterous, broken moan that you both were certain mahito and getou heard from ground floor. choso’s leg was now a sticky mess, your fluids smeared all over his leg as you continued to ride out your orgasm. “...cumming before i could even fuck you.”
he let you relax for a bit, your head laying on his shoulder as you panted heavily, pussy still clenching around a cock that wasn’t there, still being greedy as ever. he lifted your hips, situating his cock below your entrance before slowly sliding you down his length. your breath hitched, voice abruptly non-existent as you attempted to groan, however nothing came out.
his hips moved upwards with very little strength, for he depended on you to ride him. his hot breath fanned over your sweaty skin as he breathed heavily. he exploited the couple of inches you had over him and gotten one of your firm areolas in the middle of his teeth, nibbling on it. he hungrily began to suck on your breasts, switching between the two when he got tired of one. your body shuddered every time his warm mouth would switch to the other breasts, leaving the other cold. his lips latched onto the skin around your nipple and began to suck harshly, leaving purple-ish red marks on your derma. he made sure to leave his mark on you, ensuring that the next time gojo stripped you of your clothes, he’ll see reminders of who you really belong to.
you rolled your hips to his liking, his cock feverishly invading your insides, feeling him in your lower stomach. you hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm, yet you somehow found some the strength to began bouncing yourself on his dick. each time you came down on his cock, it pushed a ribald moan from your throat.
choso didn’t rely on you anymore and he began to buck his hips upwards with a quick pace, almost animalistically. “i’m gonna cum in this pussy...” he whispered while your waist was seized by his calloused hands. “you wanna feel all my fucking cum, right?”
you attempted to give him response, but your voice, again, failed you and all you could do was moan and nod your head. choso wasn’t accepting that.
“use your words.”
“i’m...i...i want you, i wanna feel a-all your fucking cum,” you blabbered before the rest of your words came out incoherent.
you both were coated with sweat, bodies glistening under the very little moonlight that had poured through the dirty windows of the room. you felt another layer rise on your skin as choso continued to impale your pussy with his cock.
“gonna keep all of it in, yeah?”
you nodded quickly, tangling your fingers in his raven locks of hair as you were reaching another orgasm. “’m gonna cum...” you whimpered, eyes closed, head thrown back.
“cum with me,” he whispered before he delivered his last few thrusts to you, bringing the both of you to a simultaneous release. strings of his cum spurted inside of your cunt, filling you up to the brim. he lays your limp body down and thrusts himself inside of you a few more times to ensure that every last drop stayed in. you muscles clenched, desperately trying to take it all, but some inevitably slid down your sore hole.
choso had come to the realization that it was impossible to be mad at you for long, after all, you were artless. none of that mattered anymore, you were under his control now and there wasn’t anyone who could change that, not even gojo. the cum that clogged your cunt was a reminder that you were his and now you had no reason to believe different.
#choso x you#choso imagine#choso jujutsu kaisen#choso jjk#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso smut#jjk smut#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#jjk x reader
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animeverse where eren is still in his cell and hange+others have an idea of bringing ina girl to fuc to 'loosen him up' so he can give info,hange has studies n research to back this up they bring you dressed scantily to go be his whore he knows why ur there n hates u so hes mean and ignores ur advances eventually he hate fucks u w his anger being directed at u from his situation choking xtreme degrading just being rough in general MEAN SERIOUS EREN NO FLUFF OR LOVE
catalyst
eren yeager x reader
warnings: nsfw, roughness, mentions of breeding, degredation, choking, explicit language
a/n: this is my first prompt request n i was vvvv nervous so pls go easy on me ok ok i hope i did your vision justice
“As romantic as this reunion is, it’s not a date, we need answers.” Levi’s words were austere, ricocheting off the passage walls as the three of you traveled deeper below ground. “He’s still a shitty-ass teenager. Hopefully isolation has made him desperate enough for female contact.”
You said nothing, and instead your eyes looked around fretfully. The chamber was inhospitable, forged from naked rock adorned with smoldering torches. Your minimal attire was inapt in its frigid ambience, so you walked clung to yourself, arms wrapped around your bare shoulders to retain as much body heat as you possibly could.
“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Levi questioned Hange, keeping his attention forward. He maneuvered through the sharp turns of the labyrinth, which gave you the impression he’d had many experiences down in the cells with his comrades.
Hange released a tremulous sigh. “It doesn’t matter. We’re out of options.” Their nervous tone had them looking over their shoulder, reassuring you with a placid smile. The gesture was thoughtful, considering it had felt like you’d been a third party to their strategic and undivided conversation, but it did nothing to soothe your hesitancy.
Levi and Hange had tracked you down and invited you to meet with them, urgently explaining that they needed your help with debriefing Eren after his insubordination and his blitz on Marley. He’d refused to disclose any further information about his conduct to anyone in the military, not even Mikasa and Armin, his closest confidants. So Hange suggested bringing in someone unbiased, someone not in the military to ruse more details out of Eren.
You were their prime choice after hearing how you and Eren had met when the Anti-Marleyan volunteers had arrived on Paradis. You’d been one of the several civilian volunteers that had helped with affairs and military proceedings at the port. There you’d met Eren and quickly forged a friendship, although Eren’s friends could have sworn there was more between you two than you would have liked to admit.
You weren’t sure why you agreed to their proposal. Perhaps it was your readiness to help the military in their righteous endeavors, or maybe it was for a different reason. Perhaps you were driven by your own selfishness. You wanted to see Eren again, even under the strange circumstances.
Eren’s cell was at the end of the corridor. Once Hange let out an abrupt “we’re here” your lips carried an eager smile, but your expression quickly faltered once you stepped forward and caught a glimpse of him in his cell. Even with the arrival of visitors, Eren kept his head forward while he sat on his bed, one arm balanced on his knee.
“Nice of you guys to pay me another visit. I’m starting to think you just miss me.” Eren’s voice was deep. So much deeper than you remembered. How long had it been? You couldn’t do the math.
“You know you’re our favorite problem child.” Levi responded humorlessly. He stepped aside for Hange to slip the key in the lock, and with one turn the door was swung open. “Don’t look so agitated. We brought you a gift.”
You made no efforts to step out from behind Hange and Levi, but Eren could see you clearly enough. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but maybe it was foolish of you to envision Eren slipping out of his troubled temper the moment you two saw each other again. Realistically, it never would have been that easy. Eren’s face remained hard, if anything it looked like seeing you made him even angrier.
Hange’s hand found its way onto your shoulder, supportive, but reminding you of the reason why you were there.
You shuffled forward, heels loud against the granite cobblestone. Darkness swallowed you as you crept in further, and you flinched at the sound of the heavy door being shut and secured behind you. Looking over your shoulder, your heart began racing at the sight of solid metal bars separating you from the outside.
“Let’s give them some space,” Levi suggested, stepping back from the cell.
Hange’s mouth opened to protest, but they were discouraged by Levi’s strong grip on their ear.
“We’ll be waiting outside if you need us, Y/N.” Levi announced through Hange’s squalls of pain. He gave you a comforting nod before his eyes drifted to Eren, and his expression toughened again. “Don’t try anything. Screams echo down here.” He paused and then turned on his heel to leave, tugging Hange’s ear before releasing it from his hold.
You watched nervously as the two of them disappeared behind the wall.
Hange’s voice was heard again further down the hall. “That hurt a lot, you know.”
It was the last remark you heard from the pair before you heard the door to the corridor close, and then worry flooded your system like it was on an intravenous drip. The Eren you were convinced you were meeting was replaced by someone you weren’t sure you knew, and suddenly you felt unsafe being alone with him, but you held an obligation to Levi, Hange, and the rest of the military that needed the information they expected you to gather.
You walked slowly, feigning a gentle smile to masquerade as though you were happy. It hurt to know that it was something you had to fake. You sat at the edge of Eren’s bed and took note as he made no efforts to shift away. That had to have been a positive sign.
“You look different,” you chuckled. “I like it.” The weak blaze from the burning torches casted a menacing shadow onto Eren’s stolid face. In the half light of the cell he appeared much older. You reached a hand out to brush away the loose wisps of hair that decorated his face, but your movement was stopped by Eren’s unyielding grip around your wrist.
You jumped, surprised at his roughness.
“Do you honestly think you can outsmart me?” His words were bitter.
You looked at Eren with wide, stunned eyes before blinking quickly and trying to laugh off your clear fright.
“What are you talking about?” You brought your unrestrained hand to his jawline, fingers tracing the shape of his face until your touch met the broad span of his chest, and then you felt gutsy enough to slip your fingers under the fabric of his shirt. “You’ve been down here too long. Not everyone’s your enemy, Eren.”
Your fingers wandered far enough until they met the defined curve of his collarbone and the robust muscle of his chest, but the moment was fleeting, interrupted by the jolt of Eren shoving you backwards. You fell off the bed and teetered, momentarily losing your balance.
“It’s pitiful that you’re letting them use you as a pawn.” Eren’s words were sharp, but venom in his words were bearable compared to the resentment behind his eyes.
He knew. He was smart, you should have known he would catch on. You created distance between yourself and Eren.
“What? They’re not using me as a pawn.” Your voice was unsteady. “I promise Eren, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can help me understand if you just—”
“Then why are you here?” Eren rose from his bed to begin closing the distance you created, and your body began to quiver with dread.
You continued inching backwards until your tailbone collided with the edge of the cell’s sink, and you latched onto it with a sweaty grip.
“I’d rather be a pawn than be driven to do terrible things out of my own free will!” You had no choice but to admit what he already knew, and in seconds Eren’s hands were strung tightly around your wrists while he trapped your body against the sink.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, blinking back tears. You searched for something past his eyes, just a modicum of vulnerability to at least let you know there was a person behind the Eren you were speaking to, but the once fiery hues of green and blue in his irises were now frosted to an unremarkable grey. If it was true that eyes were the window to the soul, Eren was truly void.
“Please let go.” You pleaded and writhed in his grip. “Eren, seriously let go. You’re hurting me.”
“I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” Eren’s face showed nothing but malevolence.
“Someone like me?”
Eren pushed you back further into the sink until you bit back a shrill cry. “Someone that’s never had to make any sacrifices.”
Tear after tear did nothing to ease Eren’s painful hold, and as obvious as it was that he was hurting you, he remained unconcerned.
“Who are you?” You shook your head. “This isn’t the Eren I know.”
“Then your first mistake was thinking that you ever knew me.”
Eren’s words were somber, but he moved swiftly, and in seconds he tore you from the sink and had you pinned up against the wall, it’s jagged surface digging uncomfortably into your cheek. His mouth hovered by your ear, and when he spoke his breath fanned over the side of your face.
“Scream and I’ll break you.”
So you said nothing as Eren’s knee slid in between your legs, parting them far enough so that he could press his thigh to your cunt. His hands retired from holding your arms behind your back, and they traveled to your ass, riding up the fabric of your dress until it was on full display.
“This is nice.” His voice was condescending as tugged on your dress's short hem. “They did a good job at making you look—,” Eren delivered a sharp spank to the exposed skin then he ran his hand over the area searing with pain, “—like a whore.”
You took your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a wail as Eren’s palm collided with your backside. He slipped a wicked finger under the thin material of your underwear and dipped his touch down between your thighs to stroke your folds through the cloth.
“Why are you shaking?” Eren used his free hand and slid it around your neck, gently at first, but you knew he wasn’t averse to tightening his grasp. “I thought this was all part of your plan.”
It had been, but your tremors weren’t the result of fear alone. You were scared out of your wits knowing that Eren had no reservations about harming you, and the thought shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was, but the combination of not knowing how he would choose to have his way with you had you feeling hot.
Your words were muffled through sobs, and your dazed mind didn’t make things easier, so all you could do was nod, which solicited a dry scoff from Eren. He hooked his finger around the fabric of your underwear and tugged it aside forcefully before parting your folds.
You released a feeble moan, and you could feel your knees buckling. If it weren’t for his tight grip, you were certain you would have collapsed. “Eren…”
“You’re wet already,” he said scornfully. Two fingers rubbed your clit mercilessly before slipping down to tease your entrance. “Acting scared meanwhile the whole time you were fucking dripping at the thought of me touching you like this. I don’t have to tell you how pathetic that is.”
Your breathing grew more labored at the anticipation of Eren’s long fingers entering you, pumping in and out of your hole while he ridiculed you for how desperately you tightened around his fingers, but you inhaled sharply when his touch disappeared.
Instead you felt Eren wipe your arousal on the inside of your thigh, and you had no time to question his behavior. A pitiful cry of surprise left your mouth as he grabbed the back of your neck, forcibly pulling you off the wall before throwing you in the direction of his bed.
“Move,” he commanded.
You staggered, looking back at him in alarm, but observed his directive without sacrificing any more time. Once you reached his bed, Eren followed closely behind, waiting until your back met the mattress to cage you in under his intimidating frame, and it then became clear that he held no other resolve than to use you for his own satisfaction. He disregarded your discernable ache and began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs in one haste motion.
Eren’s large cock was already half-thickened with beads of precum glistening at its crown. He brought his palm to his mouth and spat in it before grabbing himself in the large curve of his hand to pump his length in preparation. He ran his tip up and down your folds, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed every time it prodded your tender clit, and then without warning he drove his cock into you, kindling a fervid cry that rose from the pit of your stomach and tore through your throat.
The sound echoed off the walls of the concrete box before ebbing into silence. Eren’s eyebrows creased in irritation while he looked down at you, and you suddenly harked back to his threat. You threw a quivering hand over your mouth, and shook your head, spluttering out a fragmented apology.
“I—Eren—I—I’m sorry…”
Yet he took no heed, and he began thrusting in and out of you, rocking back just to slam his hips into yours, over and over again until an uncomfortable pain grew from deep inside you and diffused over the span of your pelvis. All you could do was swallow your wails while your palm did it’s best efforts to smother your pleas. Fat tears ran down your cheeks and soaked into the sheets; your agony was hard to hide.
“Stop crying,” Eren barked through grunts. He pressed his hand to the hollow of your neck, fingers digging into your fleeting pulse. “You said yourself you have no problem being used.”
Sweaty fingers clutched his forearm, and you struggled against his dominance, breaths growing more and more shallow in an effort to conserve the air you were quickly losing.
He grabbed your wrists and held them together, pinning them to the mattress above your head with one hand.
“Maybe I should put a baby in you, then you’ll understand why what I’m doing is our last resort.”
Eren arched an eyebrow, but when you said nothing and only looked at him with glossy eyes a disdainful laugh slipped past his lips. He continued fucking himself deep into you, watching the way your body lurched with his movement, and then you felt his cock pulsate inside you.
It served as wordless notice that Eren was close, especially since he made no efforts to warn you. His eyes shut tightly, jaw hung slack while his groans intensified, and then he was cumming inside you, his hot seed flooding your walls as he claimed you.
You wound your eyes shut too, dark mascara-tainted tears staining your cheeks while you felt Eren thrusting through his high, making sure he had jettisoned every drop of his cum into you before he pulled himself out and wiped the creamy, white liquid that glazed his cock on the inside of your thigh.
“And when you report back, why don’t you tell them—” As if it were nothing he eased his weight off of you, taking a seat on the bed beside your shuddering body while he tucked himself back into his pants. “‘I let him fuck me pregnant because I’m a whore.’”
#reesprompts#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager smut#attack on titan smut#aot smut#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#attack on titan au#aot au#attack on titan imagines#aot imagines#eren yeager fic
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you’re just a bottomless pit
part one of “Pillar of Salt”
Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)
Warnings: NSFW - explicit language, allusions to violence, discussions of mild harassment, mentions of being royalty, kissing, choking, light non-descriptive smut, slight elements of dubcon, boba’s a big dick gotta be what you have amirite
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: this is empire strikes back boba when he was just fucking around and finding out so i took a lot of liberties with canon don’t @ me. i offer u this picture as a helpful visual aid. merry christmas xx
༓ series masterlist ༓
Darth Vader was to be a house guest, and you promptly dunked your head underneath your bathwater.
The perfumed pool burbled for a few seconds while you groaned, listless and in the throes of dramatics, but your attendant only clucked in sympathy. Mila was long accustomed to your disdain for the Imperials who had come to occupy more and more of the palace. So, it seemed, was everyone except the Imperials.
After a long moment you emerged from below the water, droplets of it clinging to your face and trailing into your mouth. “Another Lord?” you asked incredulously, groaning even louder when the servant nodded.
You swam the two short strokes it took to go from one end of the small pool to the other, then floated bare on your back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Is he the one with all the strange…” motioning towards your mouth, you made a vague gesture. “Apparatus?”
“I believe so, your Highness.”
Humming noncommittally, you let your gaze trail off for a moment and stood rightside up again before returning to the bath’s edge. Its intricate tiles were cluttered with bottles, little glass tinctures and oils and soaps that all wrapped themselves around the room in a heady, heavy incense. You inhaled deeply and sighed. Lord Vader with the strange apparatus.
You couldn’t remember a time before your father, the sovereign ruler of Quas Killam, was a puppet for the permanently stationed General and a yes-man for Emperor Palpatine. Then again, you supposed it wasn’t really his fault his planet just happened to be Mid-Rim and full of exactly what the Empire needed. Being a yes-man was probably the only thing keeping his planet intact during the civil war that was supposedly raging right now.
But it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who dressed you up like a paper doll and never let your mother talk.
A soapy sponge was brought up against your back, smelling of lavender. Closing your eyes, you let Mila’s motherly hands scrub at your shoulders and arms until the skin tingled in a pleasant burn.
You picked at the tile grouts with a polished fingernail, head swimming with rows and rows of grey uniforms and white shelled armor. “Wonder why they’re here this time,” you said, speaking softly to no one in particular.
“Princess, if I may...” the older woman began.
“You may.”
“I believe they’re building another weapons factory to supply the Empire, in the north fields. Lord Vader was invited to oversee its induction.”
You kicked your legs lazily in the water, half-asleep and lulled into slowness by the refresher’s warm steam. “And I suppose he’s bringing along an entourage?” you asked, already knowing the answer. They always did, those Imperial sorts. It was just a question of how many and for how long they decided to stay, having taken any real power from your family royalty years ago after they’d discovered the trinium mines your planet was known for.
Your title had rotted of its relevance, made even lesser by the fact that you were the youngest daughter of seven. Your infant brother was being groomed for ventriloquism and you, you were being groomed for obsoletion.
Mila’s hands, roughened by years of laundry and lye soap, rubbed warm oils into your skin. “There was talk of a bounty hunter, your Highness.”
Your eyes shot open.
A bounty hunter?
⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷
You saw him a few weeks later, in the flurry of transport arrivals and mindless, droning ceremony. It was only a flash of his helmet, but it was enough to keep your imagination spinning for days.
Whispers from entreating servants and talk from stormtroopers that couldn’t keep their mouths shut had informed you of his reputation, his station, and his name. Boba Fett.
A particularly loose-lipped security droid regaled you with rumors of his being hired by Lord Vader, hunting a man named Han out in the Outer Rim. Quas Killam was on their way, apparently, good for information and heavy on the underworld dealings you’d always been shielded from. Truthfully, you didn’t much care. You knew no one got close to the Empire without blood on their hands. Whether they be kings or bounty hunters.
When you actually talked to the man, having been caught trying to eavesdrop on the chamber meeting he happened to be exiting the moment you leaned your ear against the door, any delusions of decorum were shattered the moment he opened his mouth. “Out of the way.”
You bristled, gathering up your skirts in a huff as you stepped away. Rude.
He was taller than you thought he’d be. Taller and broader than he looked before back on the cargo bay, a mere smudge in your peripheral vision. Now that he was alone save for you in the cavernous hallway, his words echoed on the marble tile. So much for espionage.
“My father’s in that meeting,” you replied shortly, putting on airs and doing your best to look like your mother, regal and cold.
Boba only stood there, thumbing the notches of his blaster until he caught the thin sparkle of the diadem crowning your head. A scoff, dismissive. “Then out of the way, princess.”
It wasn’t the title that bothered you. After all, it’s not like he was wrong. It was the way he said it. It was… it was patronizing! Condescending. Absolute inappropriate to a person of your station.
And, if you were being honest with yourself, more than a little attractive.
You shifted your weight onto one hip, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, static-y and made even rougher by his helmet. “What? Princess.”
Stars, you heard that word a million times a day for a million different reasons. His saying it shouldn’t have felt so warm in your mouth.
Before you could volley back a reply, something equally biting and smarmy, the double doors he stood in front of began to groan open again.
“Better scram, little one.” Boba jerked his head towards the sound of your father’s advancing footsteps. “Daddy’s coming.”
⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷
You often dreamed about what it’d be like to leave. Your title. Your station. All the bloody bores that came along with it.
But you had never even been outside the palace grounds. Probably never would, unless your father found someone willing to marry a low-ranking princess and hoisted you over their shoulder, a piece for a game you were never taught and never allowed to play. You’d already resigned yourself to that fact and half-way convinced yourself you were okay with it. But prisons were still prisons. Even if they were made of silk.
On the eve of Lord Vader's departure, everyone in the palace was preoccupied. Your father was most likely schmoozing some Imperial officer. Your mother, in bed with yet another headache. Your governess spent the day preening over your younger brother and your handmaiden was nowhere to be seen. You had a sneaking suspicion she was with one of the guards in a dark hallway.
So you slipped out behind a servant’s entrance and looked for a place to breathe.
Hardly anyone knew about this part of the palace gardens. It was sequestered behind so many winding footpaths and barely-oiled gates that the security droids never bothered patrolling past the main entrance, making it simple to duck underneath the overgrown hedges. The air was quiet; heavy-scented with all the flowers that had been planted and forgotten, left to grow wild across the footpaths and be crushed underneath your feet.
You used to come here quite often, when you were younger and it was easier to slip away. There were long spaces in your memory made of cotton, with hazy sun-soaked afternoons and the fountain that somehow still spouted out streams of cold water from the hands of a statue, some relic of an ancient ruler who had long since died. It was only a small courtyard, made smaller by the thick surrounding hedges and large chunks of cobblestone, but it felt like a whole galaxy to you.
A few minutes passed, then an hour. Two hours. A long, slow, summer stretch of day that just confirmed the fact of your irrelevance. It was filled in only by the mindless reading of your holopad and a few short naps. But better out here alone than stuck back inside, surrounded by those insufferable stormtroopers.
Maybe you spoke too soon, because a few seconds later you were toe-to-toe with Boba Fett, your back pressed to the garden wall. Stars, you didn’t even hear him walk in.
You’d think by now you would have learned to be more careful. Listening and being listened in on.
The helmet tilted up and then down, examining your sour expression. Rolling your eyes, you slumped against the ivy-covered brick, still smarting from your encounter with him a few days prior. “Why are you here?” A haughty, affected wave of your hand. “Were you sent here to fetch me?”
The man straightened out, stepping back from you with a broadening of his already broad shoulders. Chips in his armor reflected tiny bits of sunlight, little silver speckles on green armor that looked even greener surrounded by wild flora. He hunted people for a living, so the fact that you were made quick work of didn’t really bother you. Still, it was a bit disappointing. Having to go back to the palace was the last thing you wanted.
“The king was concerned for your safety.”
Oh for Maker’s sake. “You mean he was concerned for his reputation.”
“I was told to find you-”
“-and bring me back so I could sit in a parlor and be supervised like a child.”
“Princess,” he sighed.
There was that word again.
A heavy swallow bobbed the lump in your throat, your chest flushed and littering the space between your bodies in a low buzz. You narrowed your eyes, not trusting your own head for something more articulate, and spit the question out. “What?”
He motioned towards the footpath, one hand resting on his belt. “Let’s go.”
You only crossed your arms with a raise of an eyebrow, mind floating an acknowledgement that you were very much acting like a child who needed to be supervised.
“I don’t make a habit of tracking down spoiled royalty.”
No one had ever called you spoiled before.
It was sort of refreshing.
The man cut an imposing figure, you’d give him that. With the helmet and blaster and… armor and such. You weren’t even entirely sure you remembered to put on real shoes before coming out here, still slippered and in stocking feet. What a pair you must’ve made. Incongruous.
You cocked your head and leant against the wall with the fabric of your dress swishing out around your ankles. Caught by warm, humid winds, its layers separated themselves into thin sails before falling down together again. Rhetorical questions were blooming alongside flowers. “Are spoiled royalty below your paygrade, then?”
A tip of his helmet said yes, yes they are.
You supposed as such, with the sort of reputation he had. Skilled bounty hunter. Feared mercenary. Expensive and coveted.
A lap dog.
Maybe there was more in common between you than you thought.
Another breeze whistled past, but the man in front of you was silent. “Well,” you finally spoke, brushing away the imaginary dirt on your dress. “I don’t make a habit of following around strange men, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”
There was an edge in his voice when you moved to walk away, a gloved grip snaking up and resting a deadweight on the back of your neck. You pushed up against him. Lothcat and mouse. You were both, but he was too. “I’m not telling you again, Princess.”
If he called you that again you were sure something would happen. What that something was you had no idea, but the epithet, mocking as it was, felt too good soaking in your sternum for it not to be a catalyst.
A breathy smirk left your lips when your hips canted downward and the gauzed fabric of your dress caught on his cuisse plate. “If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, reaching to flatten your palms across his chest, “I’d say you almost enjoyed chasing me.”
The hand on your nape tightened and his leather fingerprints dug unspoken threats into your skin that simmered, burning up and down your spine. You faked a pout. “Shame you already caught me, isn’t it?”
The grip surrounding you loosened just slightly, letting your back slide down the garden wall whose ivy-covered stone dragged at your bodice back. A small voice chirped up in the back of your head, chiding you for dirtying the delicate fabric before you willed it away, done with listening.
Boba almost growled. “Don’t push your luck.”
“My, my,” you clucked, shaking your head. Your fingers trailed towards the edges of his helmet and traced stripes where his brow bone would be. They were gold. For vengeance. “Aren’t we feeling insolent today?”
The man underneath the beskar scoffed, the palm that was at the back of your neck now wrapping itself around your outstretched wrist and pulling your hand away. You let out a quiet whine of protest, both at the loss of contact and just to see what it might do to him to hear it. When he stiffened, leaning away with every muscle seeming to tense and release and tense again, you were unreasonably pleased. There was still red blood underneath all that red paint.
Boba’s voice was clipped when he finally replied; the vowels came through strained and raspy. “I could say the same for you.”
Yes, he probably could, couldn’t he?
Then again, maybe your two wrongs could cancel out into being right and not at all compromising.
It’s not like you really did anything erroneous. Well, besides the running away part. But that was par for the course for you. All that was new was… him. And his hands. And his being alone with you. Which could possibly be construed as something wrong and compromising but how wrong could it be, really, if neither of you did anything?
Of course, this all hinged on neither of you doing anything. Compromising.
“Take the helmet off and I’ll go with you,” you offered, knowing how juvenile you sounded. You just wanted to see if he’d hear you. If he’d listen.
He did.
Boot spurs clinked as he stalked towards you, closer than he was before. It was invasive; almost chest to chest with no room for breathing as you were pushed up against the wall again, and you were met with the revelation that whatever you were toying with was probably a really, really bad idea.
Static filled your ears from the husk of his vocoder. “You know I can take you back whether you want to or not.” The roof of your mouth went dry and you remembered how Boba’s palm spanned the entire back of your neck, cradled delicately by leather fingers. He could crush your throat in one hand. Squeeze until you went limp. You wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t need your permission.”
Your thumbs reached up to the lock mechanisms on either side of his head anyway. “I know.”
Fire felt good when you were close enough to be warmed by it. Whether or not you’d be burned was left to be seen.
The helmet lifted with a soft click.
Truth be told, you’re surprised he let you do it.
You dangled the helm almost carelessly by your hip, curling your fingers around the lip of it whilst your other hand stayed hovering near his face. He looked a bit older than you imagined, mid-thirties maybe, scarred and stern-looking. Handsome.
You should’ve stopped while you were ahead but all you wanted—stupid, stubborn, and yearning for a plaything—was to feel the black curls cropped close to his ears. Which probably counted as compromising.
Without the modulator Boba’s voice was deeper, the rumbling kind of richness that was used to giving orders and used to having them followed. It bore down on you as a concrete weight. “I’m not a kind man, princess.”
He forgot that you were used to giving orders too.
The coarse material of his collar chafed your palm as you held it, gripping a lifeline, and tilted your mouth up to his ear. The softness of your voice disguised your intention. It sounded innocent when you whispered it. Gentle, even. “I never said I wanted you to be.”
His lips bruised you and tasted like salt.
It was all tongue, teeth, barely cloaked violence, pressed until your throat felt raw and your heartbeat dropped below the ground to join whatever was left of your dignity. When your knees buckled, a gloved hand settled large between your shoulder blades.
You didn’t think your first kiss would be like this.
Hypothetically it would have been clinical, fumbling and awkward in your own inexperience. Out in front of a crowd somewhere after you met the eyes of a stranger at the altar. Or maybe in secret, like it was now, with a tryst of boyhood and a peck on the cheek.
Boba Fett was a stranger, but he wasn’t a boy. And this wasn’t a peck on the cheek.
You didn’t realize he had lifted you up by your hips until you were placed back down again, his having crossed the few steps from the wall to the nearby fountain with arms firmly wrapped around your middle and not so much as a strain of his hips. His strength should have scared you. It did scare you, a little, but the same hands that had gripped the blaster still at his side were deceptively gentle around your waist. You let yourself be brought down by his bended knees.
“Easy there,” Boba said, still crouching on the ground beside you as you slowly lay back on the lip of the waterwork, white noise burbling from the quiet fixtures. The flat, curved slab surrounding the shallow pool was wide enough that you needn’t worry about balancing, speckled gray stone warmed from weather and soon by skin. There was one moment where Boba allowed you to catch your breath and then it was gone, knocked out of your lungs in another assiduous touch.
“Poor thing,” he mocked, sardonic even as he cooed gently into your open mouth. Your back arched in an unwitting presentation and blood pounded a drumbeat in your ears. All you could see was Boba; his face and his shoulders and his arms braced beside your head, leaning over your horizontal form. Like you were prey. Maybe you were. “What would your father say if he saw you like this?”
He wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would stand there, mouth agape and his eyes doing that strange bulging thing it always did when you did anything besides sew embroidery squares. Fainting wasn’t out of the question. It would be ridiculously fun to watch.
You huffed, chasing Boba’s mouth with your own when he shifted above you. The midday sun hung high, edging the bounty hunter’s tanned face in white. You could see your own eyes in the reflection of his pupils, could smell his warm skin. His canines scraped your collarbones. Everything was fast, blurry, and burning.
Stars above.
The whole situation was ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you’d never been kissed on the mouth and now you were letting a killer-for-hire grope you like you were a back-alley harlot.
It wouldn’t end well. You’d curse after he left and hate yourself for letting him stay, because his staying would be brief and shallow and cruel, but right now, lying on the edge of a fountain with sunshine on your neck and a low voice in your ear, staying was the only thing you wanted him to do.
What an egregious lapse in judgement.
What a beautiful, electrifying lapse in judgement.
“You’re so—” a slurred pitchiness invaded your vocal chords, coating everything in bitter syrup. Your jaw was starting to numb from unforgiving lips. “—so rude,” you choked out, mind struggling to find footing amid its own dizziness. You felt like an overheating droid, full of bad code and faulty wiring that made your words and your actions discordant because even as you insulted the man, your hands were curling around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Always so rude, so… so mean to me. Makes me want—” you panted, voice breaking off into a whine when a calloused palm slid across the back of your thigh, “...want…”
His accent curled the consonants into a dance. “Want what, Princess?”
Expectant in their heaviness but teasing a smile in their lined corners, Boba’s eyes were the color of charred umber. Squirming in his arms, you nosed your face into the junction of his collarbones. “Want you,” you finally mumbled, admitting it in one long, pathetic exhale.
His promise had sharp teeth.
“You can have me.”
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I got a kinda weird one. I got my period and was curious how the poke boys deal with their s/o’s period
hi anon! this isn't a weird one at all! periods are totally normal! also i know i'm a bit late on this (pun not intended), but i hope your period isn't/wasn't too bad and you've taken care of yourself!
Mentions of blood, period symptoms and the ~uterus~ but the reader's gender is ambiguous. Couldn’t think of decent enough hcs for everyone. Also I’ve written this as if the boys don’t/haven’t menstruated, so they’re just supportive outsiders. Not proofread babbyyy
Steven Stone
“No, Steven, a fire stone is not a replacement for a heating pad. Even if it’s wrapped in a towel” – you, the first time you got cramps at Steven’s house
Since Steven grew up mostly with his dad, he doesn’t really know what it’s like to be in such close proximity to a person who menstruates.
But he cares so much about you! And he’s trying!
Luckily, he manages to pull it off for the most part
My man’s not afraid of blood, so if you accidentally end up leaking a little on his sheets don’t worry about it
Also, there’s no need to feel bad if the stain can’t be removed, he’s rich, he’ll buy new ones
Gladly picks up your preferred sanitary products, keeps a stash in his house long before you’re seriously dating, let alone living together, so you’re always covers
Runs you bubble baths and buys you cosy blankets and pjs
Can’t cook for shit, so it’s another excuse to get your favourite take out
If you get super sensitive (like me lol) and cry a lot, he is there with hugs and tissues and kisses
Gives really lovely massages
Professor Sycamore
Already has a stash of sanitary products in his bathroom before you two start dating
He wants his guests to be comfortable at his home, plus when he used to date a lot when he was younger it was only smart to keep the habit up
Has a mattress protector too
Man is such a simp for you, whatever you crave he will either make or buy
When your cramps are really bad and all you can do is lie down, he’ll offer up his lap as a pillow, and gently sing or read to you
Such a worrier oml
Even if you experience little to no pain, he will try smother you in hot water bottles and text you constantly during work
While Pokemon Biology is much more his forte, he does know a fair bit about the menstrual cycle, so if you got any questions, he’s your guy
And he never tries to condescend you when he talks about it either
Leon
Was photographed ONCE coming out of the supermarket with your favourite chocolate bar and a box of tampons and the internet fucking exploded over how “ground-breaking” it was for a guy to be a decent boyfriend to his menstruating partner
Hugs, many hugs
If you ever get cramps that are so bad that walking seems impossible he will carry you ANYWHERE you want
Super good at raising your spirits and making you laugh and smile, even if you’re particularly sensitive during those days
Mentioned to you once that exercising was good way for alleviating period pain
Never again lmao
His clothes are yours now, if you wanna just laze around and ride the cramps out on his couch in his hoodie and sweats, he will be so happy
Gets you Pokemon Plushes to cuddle when he physically can’t be there for you
Silver
Big tsundere energy
Tells you to stop crying and get over it while preparing a toasty hot water bottle for you and hand-feeding you m&ms
Genuinely a lot little peeved by your mood swings but he manages to reign himself in for the most part
Though he has accidentally made you cry once or twice
Whatever you need, he’ll buy it, after huffing about it first of course
Always ends up buying you extra snacks though
His brain goes like “S/O is sad. S/O like snacks. Give snacks to S/O. S/O is then happy”
The maths works out
Initially loathes the idea of cuddling up with you and watching your favourite movies ro cheer you up.
Well actually, he loves cuddling you but you know what he likes
The movies? He already thinks they’re dumb
But you’re in pain, and cute, so he humours you
You may or may not have heard him humming the tune from “I see the light” the next day lol
Guzma
The closest to the “What size pussy you wear?” guy you’ll ever get
My man does not know ANYTHING about the biology behind it
But if his boo is in pain and cranky yall KNOW he is there for them!
Ya want cuddles?
Man’s built for that shit.
Snacks?
Just say it and he’ll be back from the shop in 2.4 seconds with big bags of cheetos under each arm
Shoulder to cry on?
He’s got you baby, you ain’t got nothing to worry about
Warm, comfy clothes?
Literally will give you the shirt off his back if you wanted it, and he wouldn’t mind one bit if you got a little blood on it
A heating pad?
Ah, he actually doesn’t have one of those, but he can get you a litten that’ll curl up on your tummy instead.
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She Who Shan't Be Named - Part 1 | Sugar Lips (Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader)
Category: Smut
(Mandatory) Age: 18+
Trigger Warnings: Explicit language, oral sex (male receiving), suggestive language, alcohol, drunk sexual actions, casual sexual actions, flirting with a lot of people
Ship: Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader
Summary: Tony lets his life-long friend crash at the Avengers HQ while she has nowhere else to go. What could go wrong with so many attractive individuals living in the same home?
Word Count: 1.7k
Masterlist: LINK
(hmu if you want adding to the tag-list for this series)
---
“I, unfortunately, have someone I want to introduce you all to.” Tony begins as he’s gathered everyone in the living quarters.
“Unfortunately? Well, that always sounds like a good start, Stark.” Natasha jokes, sitting alongside Bucky and Sam on one of the couches.
Tony rolls his eyes and shrugs.
“Yeah, well,” He trails off. “This is (Y/N) (L/N).” He gestures, pointing to the woman leaning against a pillar in the back corner of the room.
She makes an effort to stand upright and walk further into the room.
“Well, hello. It’s nice to finally meet you all in person.”
To say everyone in the room falls speechless with their eyes wide and jaws dropped is an understatement.
“Oh my God, you lot are insatiable.” Tony groans, rolling his eyes once more.
(Y/N) can only smirk and wink at just about everyone in the room.
“You’re welcome, Starky Boy.”
“Put a sock in it, sugar-lips.”
“Sugar-lips?” Rhodey quizzes, amusement dripping from his voice.
Tony and (Y/N) can only stare at one another and grin as they remember where that nickname came from.
*** flashback ***
“One more for the road?” Tony suggests to the very, very drunk (Y/N) beside him.
It’s three-thirty-AM, they’re both at their favourite bar in Manhattan, enjoying a belated birthday weekend of (Y/N)’s which he regretfully missed due to Avenger work.
“You know how to tempt me, Starky-boy.” She teases with a wink, waving her hand up to catch the attention of the bartender, Harrison, who they’ve grown acquainted with over the years of drinking at his bar.
Tony falls into a comfortable silence as he simply stares at the woman he’s been friends with since he was a teen at Phillips Academy.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The woman’s sarcastic comment pushes him over the edge. Within a second, his hands are grabbing her head and pulling her in for a harsh, desperate, passion-fueled kiss.
Harrison smirks as he sits their drinks down, watching how the pair have had ridiculous amounts of sexual tension coursing through them since they first started coming to the bar over ten years ago.
“What, the fuck?” (Y/N) manages to breathe between kisses.
“Stop talking.” Tony murmurs in response, only intensifying the kiss more and more.
“Tony,” She attempts but makes no effort to stop the man. No. Absolutely not.
She’s gotten herself off to the thought of this man too many times for her to want to stop.
Her hands are grasping at the black shirt that adorns his torso, his own hands moving down to grab her hips, itching to have her closer and closer.
“Jesus Christ.” The woman gasps as best she can. “Anthony!”
The man pulls back at the use of his full name but doesn’t let go of her hips.
“Tell me you haven’t wanted to do that?” He asks, voice deep. Low. Husky.
“Of course I wanted to fucking do it, you imbecile!”
His hand jumps up to grasp at her throat, a gasp escaping her lips.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Guys, you’re gonna make my customers leave; the back lounge is empty.” Harrison interrupts. Tony continues to make no effort to stop his actions. They’re both too drunk to care.
Not that he’d care anymore so when he’s sober.
The billionaire practically drags the woman off of their barstools, (Y/N) frantically grabbing their drinks, spilling half of them on the floor - to which she gives Harrison an apologetic look but he simply rolls his eyes with a grin.
A small shriek escapes the woman’s lips as Tony throws her into the room, her hands managing to sit the, now half-empty, drinks on the coffee table.
“On your knees.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She grins, obeying the man’s order whilst quickly throwing her hair into a messy ponytail.
“Always knew you were a slut.” The man growls, unbuckling his belt and zipper on his smart trousers.
“You know me best, Starky Boy.”
She wastes no time in taking the man’s solid cock into her mouth, moaning at the feeling and taste, Tony groaning in satisfaction.
“Look how desperate you are for it.” He condescends yet continues to thrust into her mouth, fucking the back of her throat.
No words can be formed to give the man a reply. She’s too busy focusing on taking his impressive shaft down her throat, making sure her lips are touching his pelvis.
“Christ!”
He can’t help himself. His hands are in her hair, grabbing it and yanking her closer to his body, not thinking about anything other than the noise of her gagging.
“FUCK! You filthy fucking slut.”
She moans at that, working his cock more and more.
It’s not too long later before the man is releasing all over the woman’s face, her sticking her tongue out and taking as much of it as she can.
“This was a brand new blouse, Stark.” She complains, jokingly, as she licks her white lips. “Ugh, salty.”
“Don’t lie, you know it’s sweeter than sugar.” Tony laughs, re-doing his trousers.
“It definitely fucking isn’t.” (Y/N) groans, standing up and licking the rest of the mess off of her mouth.
“Whatever you say, sugar-lips.”
“TONY!”
*** flashback end ***
“A nickname I gave her once upon a time.” Tony vaguely explains, (Y/N) chuckling.
“Okay. So why’s she here?” Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in his life.
“She has a name.” (Y/N) comments, quirking a flirtatious brow at the man.
The super soldier raises his brows but smirks.
“Why’re you here, doll?”
Now, that does something to her core.
“Starky Boy told me that y’all need a babysitter, so here I am!” She boasts, evidently joking but it makes everyone grin and not ask anymore questions.
“I’ve known her since I was in my teens, she’s a family friend.” Tony adds, reassuring everyone that she’s not someone to be cautious of.
“Pft, family friend? Don’t compliment yourself, Stark.” (Y/N) jokes, everyone laughing with her. “Anyway, in all seriousness, hello, I’m (Y/N). I’m temporarily chilling here if you’re all alright with it since I got nowhere else to be.”
“A pleasure, (Y/N). Steve Rogers.” Captain America begins, stepping forward and shaking the woman’s hand.
“Pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” She winks, the man smirking at her antics which will be refreshing around the compound.
“Bucky.” The Winter Soldier greets, nodding his head at the woman from his seat on the couch.
“Romanoff.” Black Widow follows, (Y/N) biting her lip at the red-head. “Natasha Romanoff.”
“Alright, James Bond.” Sam jokes, everyone laughing.
“Tony, I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve given me the opportunity to meet the Natasha Romanoff.” (Y/N) beams, winking at the woman who returns the gesture with a smug smile.
“Christ.” Tony groans, face-palming harder than ever.
“Sam Wilson.” The man smirks, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand from his position on the couch.
“Bird Boy.”
He gives a hearty laugh at that.
“Sure.”
“James Rhodes, but call me Rhodey.”
“So you’re the Transformer’s identical twin, right?” The woman quizzes, rhetorically, shaking the man’s hand.
Another round of laughter.
“Something like that.”
“Bruce. Bruce Banner.”
“The guy I don’t wanna piss off; got it.” (Y/N) smiles, watching the brunet give her an anxious smile and chuckle. “Or maybe I do.” She adds with a wink, basking in the entertainment that comes from his embarrassed expression.
“(Y/N).” Tony groans, semi-threateningly.
“Yes, Anthony?” She asks, smiling at him like an innocent child who’s never done wrong.
“Good day to you, beautiful mortal. I am Thor of Asgard.”
“Wowee…” The woman widens her eyes as the God leans down to kiss her cheeks. “The one and only.”
“That would be I.” He smiles, throwing her a wink also. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Stop hogging the limelight already.” A voice complains from beside the God of Thunder.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the God of Mischief.”
“Well, well, well, a beautiful lady such as yourself knows who I am, huh?” Loki greets, taking her hand and leans down to press a kiss to her knuckles, Tony continuing to grunt and groan in the background.
“Hard not to when you get off on destroying New York.” (Y/N) grins, a chorus of laughter filling the room yet again.
“Stop hogging the limelight.” A female voice mimics Loki's previous words.
“Well if it isn’t the Scarlet Witch!”
“That is I.” Wanda grins. “Wanda.” She adds, holding her hand out for (Y/N) to shake, which she accepts graciously.
“Tony, do you know how pissed I am that you’ve not introduced me to these people until now?”
“Oh my God, I’m literally going to kick you out.” The billionaire responds, pouring himself a whisky from the bar at the back of the living quarters.
“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/N) retorts, winking at Wanda before turning to the couch beside her which a certain Archer is leisurely laid across. “Barton.”
“(L/N).”
“Long time no see.”
“Ya think?” Clint quirks a brow, jokingly.
“How’s Laura? How’re the kids?”
“Not bad, not bad. How’s Michael?”
“Dead if I had any say in the matter.” The woman casually threatens as the brunet mentions her ex-boyfriend.
He breathes out a laugh.
“Commitment issues as good as ever then?”
“You know me, Robin.” She jokes, using the nickname she gave me when he came on a night out with Tony and her many moons ago.
“You two know each other?” Wanda questions.
They both shrug.
“Somewhat.” Clint answers, (Y/N) giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.
“You love me!”
He grins and sits up before standing.
“You know I do, come ‘ere.” The man chuckles, pulling the woman in for a tight embrace.
“Missed you, Robin.”
“You too, Marian.” He responds, using the fairytale nicknames from Robin Hood.
“Those two have definitely banged.” Sam snarks from across the room, Natasha agreeing.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Wilson.” Clint teases, flashing a wink his way.
“Now, now, boys.” The woman settles, turning to the young gentleman on the other couch, staring at her with some much awe in his eyes. “Who’s the kid?” She asks, staring at him directly yet directing her question at Tony.
“Uh, hi, I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He stumbles, standing upright and holding out his hand for her to shake.
She giggles.
“Corruptible.”
“(L/N)!” Tony yells, the woman only laughing as she shakes the young man’s hand.
“A pleasure, spider-boy.”
Peter’s eyes widen at her knowing.
“Right, are we done? That was exhausting.” Tony complains for the nth time.
“Oh, grow a pair, Stark.” (Y/N) retorts.
“I will literally kick you out of this building.”
“You ain’t got the nerve.”
Downing a swig of his whisky, Tony takes a deep breath but smiles at the woman.
“It’ll be nice to have you around, sugar-lips.”
“I bet.” She winks, everyone chuckling again.
And that’s just the beginning of her relationships with everyone at the Avengers HQ.
---
Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5 | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting |
#Marvel#MCU#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#Tony Stark#Iron Man#Captain America#Sam Wilson#Falcon#The Winter Soldier#Black Widow#Natasha Romanoff#Wanda Maximoff#Clint Barton#Hawkeye#Loki#Thor#God of Thunder#God of Mischief#James Rhodes#Rhodey#War Machine#Avengers#Avengers x Reader#Smut#Tony x Reader#tony x reader smut#Tony Stark Smut#Clint x Reader smut#Reader
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Home: Chapter Seven
azriel x reader (acotar)
summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.
warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing,
word count: 3.9k
a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)
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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.
“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.
“I look like an evil power puff girl,”
“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”
“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.
“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.
“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”
“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.
“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.
“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.
“Huh?”
“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.
“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.
“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.
“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.
“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.
“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.
“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”
“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.
Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.
“Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
--
Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.
Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.
“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”
“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”
“Shut up both of you.”
The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.
He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.
It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.
“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.
“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.
“(y/n)? what’s going on?”
“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.
“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”
“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”
“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.
“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”
Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”
“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”
Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”
“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.
“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,
“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.
“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.
--
“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.
“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.
“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.
“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.
After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.
“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.
“Well that depends dear. What is it?”
“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”
“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”
“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”
“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.
“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”
“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.
“I understand you went through a lot,”
“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.
“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”
You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.
“Why would that be?”
“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”
“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.
--
The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.
--
Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.
You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.
Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.
Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.
“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”
“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.
Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”
Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.
Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”
“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,
“So?” Ares now.
“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.
“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”
You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”
You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.
--
You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.
When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.
“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.
“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.
“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”
“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.
“(y/n)?”
“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,
“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.
“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.
“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.
“I like her.”
“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.
“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.
“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.
“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.
“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,
“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.
“Nyx?” Rhys said,
“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”
“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.
“I’ve kind of met her,”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.
“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”
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tags: @tastedlikedamnation
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AHSDHFHHJKKHD
THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. WAS SO FUCKING GOOD.
[spoilers below if you haven’t seen it and you want to]
Here are some of my (not in any particular order) bullet points. This is gonna be long as hell because, you know, brain dumps amiright
First off, Anya Taylor-Joy’s acting. Is just incredible. In particular moments, you can tell what she’s thinking with a simple hand gesture or with the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. She develops Beth’s signature facial expressions and movements throughout the show, and you just feel like you know her. And during her chess matches, sometimes it feels like she’s staring into your soul. Especially when she gives that badass chin-on-the-hands look and she knows she’s going to win. Powerful energy.
Secondly, I fucking knew I recognized Harry Beltik from somewhere else but my mom didn’t BELIEVE me and then I looked up the actor and he’s DUDLEY DURSLEY, I WAS RIGHT MOTHER, I WAS RIGHT
I love love love how they didn’t make, like, a major romantic plotline. Beth doesn’t end up with a partner - she ends with a bunch of super supportive friends that have her back by the time she gets to Moscow, and like, she has a crush on Townes but they end up being just like super good and healthy friends and I love it?? So much?? Thank you producers
Townes. Just, in general. I really like his character, he’s super nice and his voice is oddly soothing
BORGOV. I LOVE BORGOV. HE IS SO GODDAMN RESPECTFUL. Like, he seemed like a very cold character at first - well-mannered and extremely professional, yes, but rather cold. But when she wins in Moscow? “It is your game. Take it.” I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND HE HUGS HER AND STARTS CLAPPING AND THE AMOUNT OF RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION IN THAT SCENE IS INCREDIBLE. And you don’t see any of that in Borgov’s face when he’s playing. His facial expressions do not change at all. But then his face when she wins!! He’s HAPPY! He’s like, goddamn, I’ve spent my whole life mastering chess, it’s about time somebody fucking beat me! I know I’m repeating myself but just his RESPECT I absolutely adore it
And Beth’s officer-watcher-person in Moscow was all like “ahhh be wary of the Russians! communism!!” but they absolutely did not make this yet another evil Russian show, like please that trope works for plots but it’s about time somebody did something different - they showed the US government as suspicious of the Soviets but then they showed the solidarity between the chess players that Benny talked about earlier (”The Russians work together, Americans work alone” or something like that), and then they showed the kind and excitable people on the streets, and the amount of support they would have had no matter WHO won that goddamn match. The old man she plays at the end. Everyone is a community.
Continuing that - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the old man with the very puffy white hair, but I loved him too. He sees Beth as the rising star she is, and he respects her. He admires her. The dynamic there is absolutely immaculate, contrary to the dynamic between Beth and the man she beats earlier, the one who walks off and doesn’t even talk to her. We don’t like that man - we like the ones who admit defeat and respect Beth!! I love them!! They are extremely professional, and they show the warm-heartedness that often doesn’t show with all of the cold stares and glares that pass between players during matches.
Joline. I’m so glad she came back. I love her. She’s extremely independent but she comes back for Beth because Beth needs her but she’s also like “I’m not your savior! Get your shit together!” which is fucking awesome. And the fact that the two of them interacted like the best of friends even after years of separation was really sweet to me.
I nearly cried when Beth went back into the school. (I say ‘nearly’ because there were other people in the room and naturally I can’t do that in front of other people. If I was utterly alone, maybe on my own planet, I would have.) Because of all of it. Because of her trauma, because that’s where all the shit began... and the music during that scene. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially when the melody began switching to cello. And then Beth saw all the pictures and newspaper clips that Mr. Shaibel had saved, because he cared about her so much, because he started it all - he’s the reason she’s going to national tournaments, to Paris, to Moscow. And in that scene, we know he’s too old to be alive anymore, and she does too. The whole school scene in general just feels so ghostly and ethereal.
I love Borgov, did I say that already? I just... strive to exude his energy. I want to be good at things but I want to hold deep, genuine respect and admiration for others who are also good at the thing, because sometimes I just have the biggest fucking ego and I can get carried away. ‘Borgov, Borgov, Borgov.’ A mantra. He wins respectfully and he loses respectfully.
BETH’S MOTHER (the second one) JUST FUCKING DIED OUT OF NOWHERE?? AND I WAS SO SHOCKED? Which is really an accurate reflection of reality because death often comes out of nowhere, but DAMN I was not expecting that shit
And the fact that the mother just,,,, let her chug a beer,,,, oof
THE ADDICTION. BETH’S DOWNWARD SPIRAL. IT MADE ME FEEL SO HORRIBLE BUT IT FELT SO REAL. Everything about her progression through addiction was just... I can’t find an adjective. But when she just fucking inhaled that bucket of pills as a kid and then collapsed. When that addiction lasted into her adulthood - it’s really impactful and horrible and just so real. She needed proper care throughout this entire goddamn show and she never got medical care, she just got supportive friends - which, btw, that’s one thing that kind of threw me off. Like, she didn’t have withdrawal in Moscow, she went from chugging like four bottles of wine a day to... not drinking at all?? Without withdrawal symptoms?? And I’m proud of her for throwing away those pills but honestly it felt really fast, idk
GIVING CHILDREN TRANQUILIZERS WAS AN ACTUAL THING THAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT PREVIOUSLY KNOW THIS. BUT LEGITIMATELY, IT HAPPENED. HOLY SHIT.
HARRY BELTIK. He was like, awkwardly in love with Beth and that shit didn’t work out but even afterwards he FUCKING CARED. He’d seen his father drink himself to death and he knew that would happen to Beth and he was scared. So he came back, he tried to help her, and at that point (when she had that fucking scary eye makeup, yeah that was rock bottom) she didn’t care much about the outside world anymore. She was angry, and she was closing herself in. It made my stomach clench in physical pain. Which is a good thing. But also not.
Harry Beltik in general just being so supportive and wanting to help her though, like yeah it was very awkward, but they were vibing
AND BENNY WATTS IS FUCKING GREAT. THAT WHOLE COWBOY LOOK, COWBOY CHESS PLAYER, NOW THAT’S AN AESTHETIC. He was concerned for Beth too. He wanted to help her. He wanted to create that American solidarity that he knew the Soviet competitors had, and ultimately he did when he and everyone else called her in Moscow. Benny is... chaotic good? Neutral? He is quite an interesting character, and Beth’s persistent social awkwardness fades away with him because he knows how to interact with her. He’s a dedicated and smart narcissist, and I’m here for it.
The fact that they made me love and hate Cleo at the same time, and also question Beth’s sexuality when she first met Cleo. Like, she’s from Paris. She considers ‘tomorrow night’ to be a very long time away. I love her mysteriousness. But also, she was the catalyst for Beth’s downward drinking spiral before the match in Paris, so like... I like Cleo’s personality, but not her choices in those previous moments.
The music. Did I mention the music? The soundtrack. The orchestrals. That one song that the mother plays on piano that I hear all the time and I still don’t actually know what it is PLEASE HELP. The music is melancholy in the right moments, upbeat in the right moments, intense and suspenseful in the right moments - and also absent in the right moments. There’s tacet. There’s silence. And it’s always been my firm belief that silence can hold just as much impact as sound.
Just an interesting note, my mom watched the whole show before me and then re-watched it with me, and when Mr. Shaibel showed up she quickly reassured me that he wasn’t a child molester, because quote “it may be a creepy basement but he’s just really nice” so... I was reassured
I love Mr. Shaibel, and Beth just kept sticking up for him in front of the press and,,, yeah
I hated that bitch from the high school, what was her name?... The one who showed up in the store with a child? It makes me think about the fact that so many kids are just jerks in high school simply because they can be... and occasionally their fuckery lasts into adulthood but oftentimes it doesn’t. You don’t have to be a jerk when you’re an adult, and you don’t have to be a jerk in high school! People remember, people always remember! So, to the bitch from the high school: fuck you for making Beth feel like an outsider and then trying to reverse gears and accept her, cuz Beth isn’t falling for that shit.
The twins, Matt and Mike. They’re so doubtful of Beth in the beginning but then bam, she’s competing nationally, and I adore how the three of them become friends. All those men playing chess in Kentucky in the beginning seem so condescending, but ultimately they show respect because Beth absolutely fucking deserves it.
I enjoy the fact that we never *really* know Beth’s age. It’s just like... she’s 9, she’s 15, she’s 17, she’s... twenty something? Who the hell knows? As many characters say, when it comes to skill level, age ultimately isn’t an important factor. This young woman beats the oldest man with the bushiest white hair in Moscow and age. Does not. Matter.
The Jesus people lmaooooo when Beth said “because it’s fucking nonsense” I just. Mad respect ma’am, don’t take their money, go be a communist and “sPrEaD tHe aThEiSt AgEnDa”
Wow I really just... wrote all that didn’t I damn wish I could write essays this fast at reasonable hours of the day
Beth’s relationship with her foster mother is so fucking sweet until she fucking dies
And fuck Beth’s legal father. He is an asshole. That is all.
The mother deserved Manuel, she deserved that sketchy Mexican salesman goddammit
As my final bullet point: This has made me want to play chess. This has made me want to get good at chess. You know that thing where you like, download the personality of the coolest character for like a day after you watch something... I don’t do that anymore (maybe), but I want to download those mad chess skills. This has made chess seem so cool. I want to wear a fancy suit and compete with people. I just have to, you know, actually develop some strategy and stop losing brutally against people online. I wAnT tO pLaY cHesS dO yOu HeAr mE
I’m going to stop now, but I just,,, peeps, I love this show. I’m absolutely going to require a re-watch in the future. I just love it. The characters and their development, their relationships with each other, the progression of time and of Beth’s maturity... it is simply incredible. This concludes my brain dump.
#ah. just ah.#the queen's gambit#beth harmon#elizabeth harmon#townes#harry beltik#mr. shaibel#vasily borgov#chess#netflix#rant#random#thoughts#brain dump#joline#tw drugs#tw drinking#tw alcohol#tw trauma#ahdsfgsdjfgsjgjdgjhdsgfjsdgjfds#anya taylor joy#benny watts
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Broken Mirror: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: ~1.3k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.
Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take
“What the hell was that? Why did he say that he knows what to do next? Is he gonna hurt my daughter?” Evan was the first to speak.
“He was grandstanding.”
“You don't know that. You--you can't possibly know that.”
“Mr. Davenport, I have learned more in the last five minutes than in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Oh, really? Well, I don't understand. Why is he focused on you right now?”
“Because we are interfering in his relationship with the girls,” you answered.
“He said he knows all about you.”
“He profiled us, Mr. Davenport.”
“Why would he do that?” Cheryl asked.
“To show us how smart he is.”
“Often times the best profilers are the unsubs themselves. They're the ones able to walk into an arcade full of children and pinpoint the boy or girl that can be led out quietly,” Spencer explained.
“But he made a mistake, because he gave us something he didn't expect,” you smirked, looking at the other agents in knowing.
“Which is?”
“He told us how to find him,” Gideon smiled.
Of course, right when the calls ended, Vincent shows up and pretends like he has Evan’s back. The glares coming off of you were very strong as he moved about the house as if he didn’t have Trish locked away somewhere nearby.
“You said you knew how to find him, that you were gonna save my daughter. Why don't you get out there and do something? What are you--Everybody's standing around here, looking--”
“Mr. Davenport--”
“Don't condescend to me. Don't patronize me,” he interrupted Gideon.
“Evan, Evan, Evan,” Vincent swooped in to save the day. “Everybody is doing the best that they can. Come on. Come on. Take a break, come on.”
“For the suspect to know that much about us he has to be one of us,” Derek said.
“I'm gonna have Garcia do a search of the New Haven FBI field office. The guy we're looking for knows this house and knows the family.”
“There's seven hundred agents in New Haven and another seventy in satellite offices. Davenport knows quite a few of them,” Spencer spit out.
“While we're narrowing the list, Cheryl can't stay here. If he's one of us, he has access and weapons, and you bet he's got a strategy.”
“So who can we trust?” Derek asked.
“No one. We need to get Cheryl to a safe house.”
“And limit the amount of agents she comes in contact with.”
“Don’t let it be Vincent,” you whispered to Hotch when Gideon moved about the room to select who would go with Cheryl to the safe house.
“Look,Y/N--”
“I don’t care if you believe in what I can do or not, but I know something is wrong with him. I don’t mean to disrespect you or anything like that, but all I’m asking is that you have a little faith. Can you do that? For me?” you asked, begging the older agent with your eyes.
Apparently it didn’t matter what you said because Vincent went with Cheryl, Derek, Elle, and a few others. Hotch tried to make the point that Elle and Derek would be there, but you didn't stay to listen. You were angry at the fact that despite what Derek said about you being part of the family, no one was treating you as such. Hotch said you were on the team, but he wasn’t making you feel like it at all which is what bothered you the most. The only thing you could do without jeopardizing your career was sit with Spencer and monitor what could be controlled. As soon as Elle and Derek arrived at the safe house, she called you since she thought of something important. Placing the phone between yours and Spencer’s ear, you let him listen in. It was better than putting her on speakerphone to let everyone know what you three were talking about.
“They did a bug sweep right when we arrived.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Yet, the unsub seems to know all about us. Hey, Reid, do you know what non-local interaction is?”
“What are you getting at?” he asked.
“How can he be holding Trish prisoner, and still know exactly what we're talking about?” she wondered.
“I know what you're saying. It seems like he knows what's going on here the moment that it happens.”
“It’s what I’ve been saying this entire fucking time,” you hissed quietly.
“There's gotta be a listening device.”
“They swept the room when we got here,” Spencer stated.
“Then they brought in their own equipment.”
“Gideon, come here,” you announced. Once the older agent approached, you voiced Elle’s opinion. He decided the best thing to do was to do a bug sweep on the new equipment, and low and behold, there was a bug placed inside their machine. Looking at Hotch, you didn’t say anything but the look in your eyes was enough.
“Agent Shyer called you by your first name,” Gideon said to Evan. “You know him that well? He works out of the New York field office.”
“I know his father. We've met socially on occasion.”
“Has he been here before?”
“A few times. Why?”
“He’s the one that has Trish and you handed Cheryl over on a silver platter,” you announced.
“Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?” Hotch asked, bringing you to the side.
“Look--”
“I don’t appreciate how you’ve been acting lately. I know you’re new to this, but we work together as a team.”
“I get it, Hotch. I’m new and I can do things you’ve never seen before. I truly don’t mean disrespect, but I’ve been living with this… thing… my whole life. Never once has it let me down. I’d like to think that my teammates have my back when I tell them who our unsub is. You want to punish me for being a little frustrated, fine, but please consider what I have to say next time so we can avoid all of this.”
“We’ll talk more about this when we get back to the office,” he said with a stern tone, leaving your side to go help save Trish and Cheryl since Derek wasn’t answering his phone.
Once Cheryl was found unharmed, Vincent gave the location of Trish which wasn’t far from Evan’s house, just like you said. When Hotch saw Vincent in cuffs and both young girls fine, he apologized for not listening to you, and you apologized for not handling things better. There was no need for a conversation once Hotch promised he would work on believing you when you tell him things.
The family of three were reunited, and you stood by Spencer and Gideon’s side to watch their happiness. Trish was taken away on a stretcher, and Cheryl and Evan went with her in the ambulance.
“Hey, how did Elle get Shyre to give us Trish's location?” Spencer asked.
“I imagine she found some creative way to persuade him.”
“What do you think--”
“You know, you just don't need to ask so many questions. Let's just enjoy the moment,” Gideon interrupted, making his exit.
“I have a question for you,” you said, turning to face him. “What did our date mean? I mean, I don’t want to be one of those girls who demands a relationship or whatever, but I just wanted to know if it’s something you want to do again? Maybe we can do something you want to do. I can’t imagine sitting through four hours of horror movies with me sleeping on your shoulder would be considered a fun time.”
“I actually do have something in mind. Do you know Russian?”
“No, but I’d be willing to learn for you. Photographic memory so I can’t forget it,” you told the truth, knowing what he wanted to do was to watch a film in Russian. You didn’t know a lick of Russian, but if it would make him happy then you would do it.
“There is a showing of my favorite movie this weekend. Do you want to go with me?”
“It’s a date,” you grinned.
"When love is in excess, it brings a man no honor, nor worthiness." - Euripides
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ANDREI KULOKOVA HEADCANONS
Clearly I cannot get this man out of my head.. like ever! Honestly I’ve been in a big big writing lull lately and I only want to write for Andrei, so I happy to share these hcs with you!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕
MASTERLIST
Andrei’s code names in the army were ‘The Wolf’ or 'North’
He has O negative blood type, meaning he is a universal donor. Andrei always (when he is wearing his vest) has IV tubing and needles, just in case.
On that topic, Andrei is very knowledgeable with medical information, he has saved many of his brothers in the army from death. He can save you, but the issue is if he cares to.
Yes he is a very hot bloodied man, but under pressure he is calm and cool, especially with his s/o. Feral rage can turn instantly off if he sees someone he loves really hurt, calmly giving orders and helping you.
Andrei never went to school after his mother died, at age 12. He may not be super educated in math or sciences but this man is smart. Never underestimate him. He can fix a truck, be your handy man around the house, and has amazing people skills.
He is a history buff.. Yup, you heard me. Andrei loves history, specifically war history. After his uncle died he was free to explore more education and he found a deep love in history, learning it all himself through reading, documentaries and listening to people around him. (Me and @horrorslashergirl have a weird AU where he is in college and works in a museum, in a suit with glasses 👀)
Andrei is trained in many things but one I don’t talk about often is bombs and specifically land mines. This guy loves to blow stuff up for fun and has a few land mines in specific places on his land, and abandoned town.
His favorite drinks are a deep earl grey (a Russian blend of course) and Vodka on the rocks.
He loves bath time.. yup a hot bath, even with bubbles he doesn’t care, he loves it.
One of my favorite things about Andrei is when he needs to think or stop his active mind, he goes into his field (usually shirtless) and just stands out there, closes his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet.
Andrei HATES condescending and controlling people, it brings him back to when he was a kid or in the army. Now that may seem hypocritical but honestly it is not. Degradation is for sexy time and teasing only, and Andrei is only controlling with his playthings but even then he lets them decide and have a good amount of freedom.
Man is a furnace and doesn't feel cold what so ever
He loves action movies, even though he will comment on how unrealistic they are. Also he loves documentaries.
Andrei listens to all kind of music. Mainly rock or metal but he loves Russian new wave and some rap. He also had a HUGE punk phase so that occasionally comes on.
He will do any dare or bet, not even kidding. His army buddies stopped daring him to do stuff because he would just do it. Andrei is a big thrill seeker and will do so much stupid stuff.
He used to have a wolfdog, a brother to Amaria’s wolfdog Dyn. Unfortunately it had too high of a concentration of wolf in it and he had to let it go, but he does still see him every once and a while. He even named him Alexei, meaning “great defender” in Russian. Andrei always leaves one of the outbuildings open for him just incase the weather gets too cold or dangerous. Also he may or may not use him to get rid of bodies, if he sees him wandering around.
Andrei drives a 1995 Range Rover all black with giant snow tires, or his black old Russian truck.
He can ice skate and used to play hockey with his buddies
He is secretly loaded. Yes he has money in his walls and all over the town. Andrei knows what he is worth and his rates aren’t cheap, plus it’s all in cash so there is no paper trail. He is never one to flaunt his wealth, you probably won’t even know until you see him coming home from a mission with a duffle bag of cash, throwing it in under the floor boards.
Andrei had a secret male s/o in the army, it was his first male relationship but they had to hide it from everyone. In a dangerous feral state the wolf had killed him, that was his last undercover mission.
This guy can read people like no tomorrow, every tiny subtle thing you do he notices. Could be the way you bite your cheek if you’re nervous or the way you rub your hands together when excited. He knows.
Also Andrei is very good at manipulation but doesn’t use it often.
He is a terrible sleeper. Andrei wakes at every noise in the house and only gets about 5 hours a night but only 1 hour is actually deep sleep. Sometimes he gets so exhausted that his body gives out and he will sleep for 12 hours fully clothed, in his cargo pants, vest and jacket. However he is much better with an s/o to sleep with, it’s still bad though.
I say this a lot but Andrei has an incredibly active mind, and it’s hard for him to relax or ease up. He uses drinking and smoking as a way to calm down, also just walking into the field for peace.
His favorite food is a nice hardy warm stew with rabbit meat.
Andrei adores just holding his s/o in his arms as on the couch or in bed.
He is honestly kind of paranoid, not so much by himself but if he has a s/o. You can come with him to the nearest town, but never ever draw attention to yourself or him, for your safety. He has people after him.
The wolfs signature is ripping off someone’s jaw or ripping out their spine by gutting them and reaching in.
If you mess with him but he dubs you as not a worthy hunt or not a good kill, you might see a bear trap in your home the next morning.
His tattoo on his left palm 'NO GODS’ is something he got to remind himself that he has control of his life and take his fate into his own hands, not his paranoid controlling uncle. It also holds him accountable for his actions, there are no gods to blame, he did it. The tattoo connects to Amaria as well. She is a lil crazy and does kills for 'the gods’, but Andrei sees that as foolish, he does his kills for himself, nothing else.
The 'grateful for the hunt’ thing I often write in Andrei’s stories is what his uncle would always say to him, with people or animals. It’s burned into his brain and it will never leave him. The words remind him to breathe and take in every deadly detail, that Andrei loves so so much.
Alright time to get.. a little odd lol… me and some friends have an interesting thing going where Andrei has a 'wolf pack’.. Dallas (@slashersins oc) is his husband, not legally, but Dallas wears a wolf ring for him. Xaviera (@horrorslashergirl oc) is Andrei’s soul mate and girlfriend. Xaviera’s cousin Akshay is Andrei’s best friend, they fight constantly but have so so much fun.. plus they fuck when they’re drunk lol. I am Akshay’s 'snow queen’ aka girlfriend. Andrei also has 2 'playthings’ Bianca (@horrorslashergirl) and Sights (@thesightstoshowyou)… the house is too full and Andrei may or may not regret having all these people lol.
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Obey Me! HHS!AU
an obey me AU where the boys are human going to a regular degular high school? so original lmaooo
TW: mention of sexual harassment between a teacher and a student for Asmo, physical assault(it’s self defense but just in case)
Lucifer
He’s that super smart kid that’s condescending and a bit of an asshole but he’s hot and all the girls and gays love him
He’s the valedictorian. No one even came close to beating him. Not when he’s so well decorated
He’s student council VP, he helps organize all school events, he volunteers, he tutors others, won countless awards for his prowess in chess and chemistry, and takes all AP classes
If you’ve ever seen Ouran High school host club he’s Kyoya
He’s Diavolo’s right hand man and they’ve been friends forever
Gets invited out on weekends by other students and always turns them down because he’s busy
Nobody really understands how he does it. there are rumors that he’s a vampire and doesn’t sleep
Superlative: most likely to succeed
Mammon
He’s the stereotypical class clown.
he’s not as stupid as everyone thinks he is.
He needs more of a challenge because normal classes are too easy but he’s too lazy to take honors or AP because he enjoys having free time
Math is his strongest subject
He’s on the track team, he’s good in all individual events and is the last leg(person?) in the baton race because he’ll make up any time deficits
Nicknamed “the hurricane” because he’s the fastest person on the team and his hair is white
Only when his coach threatens to boot him from the team because of his grades does he get his life together and makes the honor roll. Everyone was shocked
Very competitive. Hates losing and won’t accept anything less than gold
Fashion icon. Pierced ears, leather jacket, combat boots. Surprisingly doesn’t ride a motorcycle. He also lives in his captains jacket on comfier days
Mammon’s always dating either a cheerleader or a football player
He’s a bit of a flirt, but he’s not as bad as someone we know
Superlative: class clown
Levi
WEEB
He’s not that weird kid that’ll Naruto run to his classes but he does wear anime tshirts to school everyday
He is the president of the schools anime club. He gathers his fellow weebs in the auditorium and they watch anime on the projection screen once a week
He’s in theater but he’s too nervous to perform so when play season rolls around he makes the costumes and shocks everyone with how amazing he is
He cosplays and he makes every thing himself, of course he’s amazing
He’s just really good with his hands in general. He’s an amazing artist and sculptor
The art teacher has requested less anime inspired art pieces and sculptures but still encourages him and his passions
His anime club friends mean the world to him
Gym class is mandatory but he sits out because he has “terrible” asthma
Has gotten his phone taken away in class for watching anime instead of paying attention
Superlative: most likely to survive the zombie apocalypse
Satan
He’s #2 behind Lucifer and the gap may be getting smaller due to his efforts
He may or may not have brought a cat to school once or twice
a lot of people think he’s a bit of an asshole, and they’re right
he knows he’s smarter than most and has a tendency to talk down to others... he’s working on that
don’t mention anything good about Lucy around him unless you wanna see him explode
he’s a nerd, 100% eats his lunch in the library
he’s the president of the book club
Don’t fuck with him. He may be a book nerd and a lot of people don’t know about his temper but...
He’s actually quite fit. He’s a boxer, it helps him channel his anger
The foolish people that try to pick on him end up with broken noses if he doesnt hold back.
He also knows to never hit anyone without witnesses so the teachers know the punch was justified
Superlative: most likely to take over the world
Asmo
One of the 2 male cheerleaders
The most flexible out of the entire squad
He’s a Flyer
Has flirted with every one on the squad on numerous occasions
They know he’s a flirt so they know not to take it to heart
He’s dated every football player and basketball player at least twice, except Beel. Not because Asmo didn’t try but because Beel said he looked like a handful 😂
Flirts with teachers too if it means he can get a good grade
He’s a bad student. He spends class time talking to classmates, texting or playing games on his phone
He does the bare minimum to stay on the squad(perfect 2.0GPA 😂)
Senior year, the history teacher enjoyed Asmo’s flirting a lil too much and tried to take it too far... it didn’t turn out well
Cheerleaders are athletes and while Asmo may look weak he’ll fuck you up
He knows that people think he’s weak so he takes martial arts
Not a lot because while he likes guys with big muscles he doesn’t think they suit him
Anyway, he grabbed that teachers hand and lowkey crushed it
That teacher never tried that again and gave Asmo an A all year(no the teacher wasn’t fired. You know how America is with males and sexual harassment, big yikes)
Superlative: biggest flirt and cutest couple with Solomon
Bubzie
Star quarterback on the American football team
Start forward on the basketball team
Strong AF
intimidating to freshman who’ve never seen someone that’s 6’4 and hella muscular
Carries his school stuff in his sports bag and snacks in his backpack
The lunch ladies love him, they give him extra large portions
He really is just a big teddy bear. The freshman usually steer clear but he helps them if they look lost and they realize he’s a nice person. Just tall, and strong
In the hall of fame for most 3-pointers in a single game
Also for the most sacks in football
Pretty good student as long as he’s got a snack so he can focus. When he’s hungry he falls asleep until the bell rings so he can hit up his locker for a snack or run to the vending machine
Will one hundred percent use a bathroom trip as an excuse to go buy something from the vending machine
Superlative: most likely to eat an entire buffet by himself
Belphie
That one emo-kid with the black hair covering one eye, black eyeliner, black shirts and ripped jeans
He’s also known for unintentionally intimidating the freshman
He listens to heavy metal and hates “cookie cutter” pop music
Always asleep in class. Always. Teachers don’t even bother trying to wake him up anymore
Everyone is genuinely shocked that he has all As and aces every test even though he’s always half asleep
He and Beel became friends when Beel was working out in the weight room and Belphie was looking for a place to nap and heard the band Beel was listening to and got excited
He never thought any of the lames at this school would know who SlipKnot was and the rest is history.
Beel makes sure to get Belphie lunch when he fired through the line otherwise he won’t eat
Nobody knew Belphie could smile until he and Beel became friends (my chest 🥰☺️)
If he sees anyone looking at him when smiling he’ll immediately start scowling again
Belphie will nap on the bleachers while Beel practices and then they’ll go get something to eat afterwards
He’d kill you if you ever found out, but he’s never had a real friend and he loves Beel more than anything.
People don’t understand that they’re really just friends, more like brothers tbh. They joke that Beel could be his big tiddy goth gf 😂
Beel knows belphie’s number 1 secret: he’s trained in classical ballet (his leaps are unmatched)
Superlative: most likely to burn the house down and unlikely combo with beel
#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me levi#I think I’ll do the undateables soon too
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Outlast: Revisited [Chapter Two: Waylon]
Read on ao3
Synopsis: I’m rewriting Outlast where the first game and Whistleblower are combined, Miles and Waylon are more connected, and also they kiss
Trigger warnings: Sexual assault plus everything already in the game
Subtlety was never Waylon’s strong suit.
He was good at getting himself into trouble—irreparable trouble that couldn’t be damage-controlled. He had thought he was being smart for once, that the onion router and firewall patch would be enough for him to finish up his last shift and leave the state with Lisa and the boys before being caught.
He didn’t mean to leave them.
The restraints were way too tight, and the men were only pulling them tighter. Waylon was drugged all to hell; his head was fogged and heavy, his eyes pulling closed, his entire body numb and achy.
“Open your eyes,” one of his past higher-ups purred. He was an ugly man with pronounced features, dressed in plastic, named Andrew. He’d always been condescending, a little too touchy. “You don’t have to wake up, but open your eyes.”
Waylon moaned in protest, his head dropping.
Sharp pain exploded on his cheek. He groaned and lifted his head, his eyes snapping open.
“Oh, what’s the matter?” Andrew pouted. “Somebody hit you? Here, let me help.”
His tongue scraped along where Waylon was hit, slimy and heavy and warm. It soothed the pain but made Waylon’s skin crawl as Andrew’s hand fit between his legs.
“Andrew, are you getting these alerts?”
He scowled. “Kinda busy here.”
“It sounds like real trouble.” The man’s voice barely penetrated Waylon’s drugged brain. “At the engine. They said Hope made a lateral ascension.”
That was enough to get Waylon fighting against the hold. The Walrider escaped. We’re all going to die. He blinked his eyes open, stretching them and staring at the bright light.
“Billy Hope?” Andrew straightened up, his hand disappearing. “Shit. And they’re not happy about it?”
“No,” the man said dryly.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Come on.”
He left, leaving Waylon to watch the screen. The images burned into his eyeballs, dragging him further and further down into his pounding head. The pressure increased, grew tighter, bigger, pushing against his skull, his head was going to explode, he opened his mouth to scream—
His restraints popped.
He stumbled out of the chair and fell to his knees. Screams sounded behind him. Footsteps, sprinting. More yells. Something splattering. He glanced around through the glass walls to his fellow ‘volunteers—’ they all gripped their heads and struggled to their feet.
“You hear that, don’t you?” The one to his right asked blearily. “Do you hear it? Oh— AH! FUCK!”
Waylon’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as the Walrider, black and smoky and nearly translucent, slipped into the cell and grabbed the man by his ankles. The Walrider yanked him into the air and through the vent. He was gone.
Fuck. Fuck. Waylon’s abdomen burned, his chest constricted, his heart raced. He was going to die in this cell. He was never going to see his family again, he was never going to see anything again, he was about to disappear—
The Morphogenic images flashed across his face and he fell over as his ears rang. They resembled rorschach images, beige and moving, flowing in and out of each other. He staggered, struggled back to his feet. A camcorder sat on a tripod, meant to record his reactions to the Morphogenic program. He snatched it and held it up.
Squeezing his eyes shut, panic welled in his chest, burned behind his eyes.
I fucked up. Hours could have passed, or weeks. He reached a hand up—his head was shaved like all the other prisoners, but he couldn’t remember when they did it, nor when they dressed him in the beige jumpsuit. He was reduced to 2536. Have to call for help. Lisa, I’m sorry.
If I die, I know you’ll find me. I hope you find this camera with my body. I hope the evidence on it does what I couldn’t, exposes the truth.
I thought I was doing the right thing. But I fucked up bad.
“You think you’re safe in there… wall flower… pretty flower…” A voice rasped in the darkness, growing closer. “...fucking… I’ll open you up… open you up and show you… make you purr… you wait right there.”
Waylon looked around frantically. The darkness choked him. He raised the camcorder and flicked on the nightvision, and a man appeared in the darkness—another patient. He strolled towards the control panel, glinting eyes on Waylon, mumbling to himself.
Waylon’s gut clenched. Andrew’s hand between his legs was back, and he couldn’t breathe. The minute the door opened he sprinted, out of his body and watching himself dash down the hall as the patient stared after.
He slammed the door shut behind him and skidded to a stop in the hall. Through the plastic of an examination room, three patients stood on an observation table, kicking and choking and beating the shit out of a security guard. Waylon recognized where they were now—the underground lab.
“You!” One of them pointed at him. “No observers. Come in.”
He swallowed. They were all staring at him now—five of them, actually. They shifted in anticipation, one with their arms crossed and back straight, one of them rubbing their hands together.
Waylon shook his head and ducked forward, intending to hurry down the hall and find his way out when his ears started ringing. The Walrider loomed over him, claws curled, staring Waylon down. It didn’t have a face. Waylon would give anything for it to have a face, to know what it intended.
Waylon stumbled back. It raced forward, flying towards him, arms out. Waylon whipped around and vaulted over a crate. The plastic blurred past as he skidded around the corner, the Walrider roaring behind him, right behind him, its breath was on his ear. He slammed the door.
Outside, footsteps raced past, someone yelling, “THE WALRIDER!” Their screams carried down the hall.
His vision was blurry. Sweat dripped into his burning eyes.
“Here.” One of the patients brandished a knife at him.
The guard was dead now, laying limp on the table. He was pale, his arm hanging off the edge, fingertips cracked and red. Blood oozed out of the wounds on his chest, dripped down his sides and onto the metal slab. The dim light in the room coloured him yellow. Waylon covered his mouth and looked away.
“Take the blade,” the patient demanded. “Dig around in our friend here, get a little red on your hands.” He grinned. “It’s always healthy to express yourself.” The body gushed as he slammed the knife into its chest. “You keep it bottled in too long and you might do something you regret.” Squish, squish, squish. Waylon was going to throw up.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
“No? You’re one of those? Too good for the likes of us?” His voice rose the more he spoke. “Think you’re different. Something special. There are no observers here!”
Waylon stumbled back. The patient slammed the knife into the corpse over and over again, squishsquishsquishsquish, and everyone else just stared, just watched him mutilate the body.
“Now. Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind!”
He hurried through the other door, out into the hall, away from the Walrider. It was cluttered, shelves and boxes tipped over and clogging the path. A patient sat in a chair, head in his hands. As Waylon passed, the patient leapt to his feet and pushed Waylon by the chest.
“The fuck are you trying to go?” He demanded.
Waylon held the camcorder against himself, heart beating so hard it hurt. “Don’t fucking touch me, man!”
He stumbled back and the man followed.
“Come back here!”
The man balled his hand into a fist and whammed it into the side of Waylon’s face. Waylon gasped and raised his hands. One leg flailed out in a shitty imitation of a kick, and the patient just laughed, so Waylon ducked the next blow and shoved forward. Another hit to the back of his neck, and it throbbed as he sprinted away.
He could not fight these patients. He was weak from the drugs, from the malnourishment, from the torture. From whatever else they could’ve done to him while he was out of it—what Andrew could have done to him. If he wasn’t fast enough, he would die.
He slammed through a wooden door into a room and passed another patient hitting at— hitting at something, and ran until he found an air vent he could jump into. He grunted as his weak muscles strained, trembled, screamed at him while he struggled into the vent. He flopped onto the metal and dragged himself the rest of the way in. Just as his feet crossed the barrier, someone rushed in the room, screaming something Waylon couldn’t make out. He held his breath and stayed deadly still. They poked around, looking under shelves and in cabinets, mumbling to themself. Waylon pressed his forehead to the metal, his face crumpled. They left.
He dragged himself further into the vent. He was covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat, his hands shaking horribly. He raised the camcorder and flicked on the nightvision. Voices carried up into the vent.
“...bad idea. We get out of here through reception and let Murk Tactical clean it up.”
Stopping at a grate, Waylon turned off the night vision and zoomed into the lit hall below. Two security guards stood, looking around with paranoia as they talked quietly.
“If they get here in time,” one of them insisted, eyes wide. A smattering of blood covered his face. Waylon couldn’t help but wonder who it came from. “We need help now! If we get them on the radio, the National Guard could be here within-”
“We don’t even know if the radio works,” the other one snapped.
“It’s short wave! If the prison’s got electricity they’ve got signal. And the lights are on.”
“Murkoff has it under control.” He glared.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Bloody-Face said sarcastically. “We need to get to that radio.”
“Outside help doesn’t come without outside attention,” he whispered harshly. “You want to take responsibility for every legally shaky thing you did on the Murkoff company payroll? I know I don’t.”
Bloody-Face started to walk away. “It’s too late to worry about that. This just has to stop.”
He grabbed Bloody-Face’s arm. “You’re scared. You’re not thinking straight. Let me make something clear.” He lowered his voice and got in his face, eye-to-eye. “You try to radio outside for help, I’m gonna give you a whole new something to be scared of.”
Bloody-Face’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.”
Waylon lowered the camcorder as they hurried away. He panted, his breathing slowly calming down, his heart rate slowing.
There’s hope, Lisa. I’m coming home to you. I can’t die. Not before I reach that radio. They can’t cover this up now.
He would have to cross a good bit of the asylum to get to the prison. He couldn’t fight. He could barely run. He had no idea if he would survive.
But he had to try.
He dragged himself over to the edge of the vent with shaking hands, and prepared himself to jump.
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I can’t believe it took me until part 8 to do my favorite boy but
Here are the pros and cons of dating
Noah
Cons
Noah is really non confrontational, so he tends to let issues fester. It’s not that he’s trying to let things build up, it’s just that he doesn’t think they’re important enough to bring up. He won’t start a fight about them when they’ve built up, but if MC is angry about something he’ll mention that there’s a bunch of things he’s let go but not have specifics. It ends up coming out like ‘yeah well what about all the other things?!’ ‘what other things!?’ ‘I don’t remember!!’. He’s not actively keeping track of all her mistakes, he genuinely does forgive and forget, but then when tensions come to a boil he needs to point out that there has been conflict that he just ignored. He’s not trying to guilt or gaslight MC, but sometimes it feels like it. If she thinks especially little of his intentions, it feels like he’s just pulling things out of thin air to be mad instead of focusing on the issue. That’s not what he’s doing- he just doesn’t address little things until they feel like big things. But of course he hasn’t done the introspection to truly understand how doing this is hurtful or articulate that he doesn’t mean it to be.
When he and MC disagree, he lets things go wayyy too easily. This is fine if MC is a really mature, self-reflective person who can see that she’s crossed a line after the fact. But if MC is a little more selfish/immature, like Lottie, this is a huge con because he doesn’t give her accountability that would help her grow. We saw this with Hope- she wasn’t able to recognize how harmful her temper was when she was dating Noah because he never pointed it out, he just rolled over. If there’s a genuine problem- financial, emotional, logistically, he’ll ‘let it go’ until it’s a way bigger problem (and much harder to solve).
Sorry that most of these cons are about how he fights with people, but that’s what we saw in-game lol. I’d love to know more about how Lucas or Rahim fight with their partners. But when you’re arguing, Noah tends to focus on really little details of what you said instead of listening to the whole thing and getting a sense of the bigger picture. So let’s say the issue is ‘Noah, I need you to tell me when you’re borrowing my car because you took it to the gym and then it went from having enough gas to get me to work in the morning to being on empty. This morning I had to stop for gas and that made me late.” The issue there is actually ‘please tell me when you’re using my car”, but he fixates on the gas part and says “well fine I can fill up your tank”. So he focuses on little details that he can fix instead of acknowledging the actual problem.
He internalizes things so fucking hard. Yes he intellectually knows that when MC gives him feedback on things she’s talking about his BEHAVIOR and not him as a person, but he definitely feels like shit about himself if he makes a mistake and MC calls him on it. He’ll definitely beat himself up about things for weeks after it happens, and his internal dialogue in general is pretty toxic.
I can see him being a bit of a workaholic. Not in the same sense that Camilo is in Boat Party, but Noah definitely will go into the library on a day he’s scheduled to be off if he has projects to work on or will stay late because he got engrossed in research. Same thing now that the library’s closed because of COVID- it takes him two times as long to put everyone online and work from home, so he’s spending more time working than ever. He views it through the lens of the ‘greater good’- getting that display set up for the patrons is more important that seeing his wife two hours earlier because many members of the community outnumber one person. Plus he just cares so much about his work that he has a hard time seeing it as an inconvenience to other people.
He loves his family so much. Even when MC and he get married and have kids, he struggles to prioritize them over his siblings and parents. So if his little brother Arlo needs money, Noah won’t hesitate to give him a loan even if he and MC are struggling financially. If his aging mom or dad can’t live alone anymore, Noah will invite them to move in with his family, even if their house isn’t big enough to accommodate more people. I can see this being a huge point of contention, especially in that second scenario where MC would have to take on a caretaker role as well. Noah just wants to help people so bad and has a hard time saying no, so that can sometimes impede his partner.
He’s really used to living on low income, and so he has a lot of frugal habits and concessions that he thinks are normal that someone more middle or upper class might find irritating. These are all coming from my experience and things partners have complained about- but think things like only eating out once a month or refusing to turn the heat on until it’s dangerous or making his own laundry detergent. He grew up doing them out of necessity (and still does, student debt on a public librarian’s budget? I couldn’t do it), so he doesn’t realize how strange or frustrating his habits might be to someone who isn’t used to it. He also has a really hard time justifying spending excessive amounts of money, so if MC has lavish taste there’s going to be some conflict.
He doesn’t like initiating anything. Conversations, activities… you know *smirk emoji*. He will, but the ratio of when Noah suggests something to when MC does is like 1:8
My boy is beautiful, and his clothes look lovely, but he has 7 outfits that he rewears all the time. The closest thing to fashion is him putting a different button up shirt underneath his vest. It’s definitely a joke at work that he wears the same sweater, button up, and quarter length shirt just in different colors. You know that vine where the teacher walks into the room wearing the same shirt in different colors, saying the same ‘hello’ for like a million days. Noah’s coworkers remake that with him, because that’s exactly what he does.
He’s a bit of a homebody, and loves routine. For me, massive plus, I love that. But for someone who wants to party regularly or be spontaneous, I can see constantly changing plans and going out with people being really draining to Noah. He has a small group of close friends, so he’d struggle to remember MC’s friends' names if she has more than five. Don’t get me wrong, Noah will take MC to galleries and dates at least three times a month, but it has to be discussed and scheduled in advance.
Pros
Honestly, what isn’t a pro about him? Noah is a steadfast, thoughtful, and kind person. His politics are about taking care of people, providing them dignity and respect, and building community. He loves his family and is incredibly patient. He’s incredibly smart but not at all classist or condescending about it. I know this is supposed to be about how the islanders affect the person they’re dating, but oh my god he’s such a good person I love him. Let’s just say the pro for this is his positive aura.
He’s really good at group dynamics and listening, so he goes out of his way to make everyone feel heard and valued. If someone says something and no one acknowledges it, he’ll specifically engage with them so they’re not left hanging. If someone’s trying to get a word in but can’t, he’ll get everyone’s attention then say ‘so and so had an idea’. He’s not one to boisterously laugh in group settings, but he always makes eye contact and smiles if you make a joke that flops or say something he agrees with. If people are teasing about something, he picks up if it’s gone too far really easily and will gracefully change the subject/tell them to knock it off.
He’s super conscientious about respecting boundaries and ensuring the people around him are taking care of himself. If MC and him are long distance and texting after 10pm, he’ll be like “I love you, but we’ve both got to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. He’ll always check and make sure people have eaten when meeting up with them, and if they haven’t he’ll insist they get food from somewhere. 100% gives you his jacket, brings you water bottles, in general just wants you to take care of yourself.
Above all else, Noah just always ensures the people around him feel safe. The last thing he’d want to do is make people uncomfortable, so safe driving, safe spaces, safe sex are all musts. He’s really good in crisis situations because he can calm people down and encourage them to think critically.
Building off of that, he’s really aware of how much of the housework is being done by who and always tries to ensure he’s doing his part. I bet that was a big thing he ripped on Rahim for- Rahim expects his woman to clean up after him and do the bulk of the domestic work, and Noah knows that’s bullshit. I think Noah likes cleaning, anyways, and will usually take laundry/disinfecting bathrooms/cleaning dishes over cooking or running errands. But the mental load of keeping track of recipes/groceries that need replenishing and keeping up with kids needs, he’s aware of the imbalance and does his part. Obvious plus, because it sounds fucking exhausting to date a man. He fucking hates vaccuming though, and will splurge on a roomba.
He has a dry sense of humor that’s very based in puns and hyperbole. Sometimes it’s hard to know when he’s joking or not, but he never makes you feel bad for missing a joke or dwells on something for too long. He absolutely subscribes to the Mcelroys’ No Bummers rule, there are some things you don’t joke about and he’s happy to shut down inappropriate comments or ‘jokes’. He definitely prefers physical gaffs and dumb ways of saying things, so his favorite comedians are John Mulaney and Chris Fleming. While humor isn’t an important part of how he relates to other people, Noah enjoys being around funny people and won’t shut down their energy like Rahim, Marisol, or Hope.
This is just me projecting again but Noah is generoussss. Even though he doesn’t make a lot of money at the library, he still has a ‘mutual aid’ budget each month (and goes over it often). He’s the first one to give money to panhandlers, donate to gofundmes, and give friends/family personal loans. That definitely gets him into sticky situations sometimes, because he has a hard time saying no and can get taken advantage of, but ultimately I think it’s a pro because he’ll never forget where he came from and always prioritize helping other people.
He has a really pretty, deep singing voice and this is a pro to me because fuck I meltttttt.
The shit he says to his partner or spouse? THE most romantic thing in the world. You think Mr. “you’re made of stardust” doesn’t shower his lover with the most meaningful lines at random times? You think he’s not quoting sappho and jane austen when he’s at a loss for words? You think he’s NOT going to turn over in bed on a lazy Saturday and say ‘this is the most perfect my life will ever be’? It’s not even prompted either, yes he’ll compliment Bobby or MC when they get all dressed up for date night, but more often he’ll profess his adoration in the middle of dinner, then take another forkful of food.
Fantastic with kids, and this is a huge pro because people who can work with kids and be patient/positive with them make me so fuckim soft. But if/when (hopefully when because if MC didn’t want kids I don’t think it’d last) they had kids, Noah is happy to be on bottle duty, wake up early to the baby, and generally be a really involved parent. He’ll take a big chunk of paternity leave, and generally be there as much as humanly possible. Even when they have multiple little tyrants running around, he always makes time to be alone with MC and make sure she’s not taking on too much.
He’s basically a lesbian, which is definitely a reason I love him so much. Hear me out- loves milfs, loves 80s music, communicates affection through meaningful glances and playing with hair but will die before explicitly saying any of it, crushes on his best friend for the longest time but never makes the first move, puts way too much emotional meaning and personal metaphors into objects and then presents them as gifts, is into fandoms and actively collects pop figures, is attracted to assertive/powerful women, wears beige skinny jeans, wears VESTS….. That’s a lesbian. He’s a bisexual man, but he’s also an honorary lesbian.
A really good confidant. Noah’s an amazing listener and never judges people harshly- his life philosophy is as long as you’re not hurting anymore or yourself, everything else is details. So you can definitely tell him secrets and confess regrets to him and he’ll listen with those soft eyes and gentle nods. Talking to him about mistakes always feels like unburdening yourself. And he’d never tell your secret to anyone. Doesn’t matter if you cheat on him, lie to him, or die, he’s never going to tell anyone your secrets.
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The Handler is really a fascinating character to me as is her dynamic with Five and how alike they are. Get ready because I’m gonna go on a tangent about them.
I think it goes without saying that in many ways The Handler and Five are very similar people. They’re both pragmatic, goal orientated, cold, and quite simply, both willing to do absolutely anything needed to achieve what they want despite the repercussions others might face at their expense. They both lack a significant level of humanity, something that clearly is a requirement to be able to do the work they do/did at the Commission. They are constantly at a battle of wits and attempting to one up the other, both proving to be a formidable foil to the other consistently throughout the show.
Where things start to contrast between the two is how they grew to be the people they are now. With Five, well, we know why he is the way he is. Five isn’t simply just a product of his childhood. Yes, he still retains a good level of characteristics from his youth into adulthood (arrogant, brash, sees himself as better than everyone else) but Five ultimately was sculpted into the man he is today due to his time subjected to the apocalypse and then shortly after, the Commission.
The apocalypse did a number on Five. It isolated him for over four decades. It tore layer after layer of humanity away from him until he was left so distanced from other people that segueing into becoming an assassin was like second nature. It forced him to become entirely dependent on himself for survival in every aspect of the word. Physically, of course, he had to take care of all his basic survival needs; food, water, shelter, first aid, etc. Mentally and emotionally? He created a whole ‘nother person in the form of a mannequin to help him retain any semblance of either of those things. It damaged Five so deeply that afterwards he was left almost entirely incapable of empathy (key word, almost), unable to ask others for help/acknowledge he needs help, and able to see assassination as a reasonable means to justify an end.
Five was left broken by the apocalypse. He is a product of it. And after going through that traumatic ordeal, he was offered a way out but only through accepting employment at the organization that sat by and allowed his suffering to go on for decades. (I’d love to go into the body modifications/DNA manipulation but that isn’t canon compliant for the show anyway (yet) so I won’t). He was transformed into the perfect killing machine. He took the lives of anyone and everyone who stood out of line by the Commission’s standards. Many who I’m sure weren’t actually bad people (ex, Lila’s parents), but because they were deemed irregularities in the timeline (or they were someone who The Handler could benefit from their death, ex Lila’s parents), they had to go. One doesn’t complete a task like that regularly without lacking a level of morality or connection to fellow humankind.
But The Handler? We don’t really know her back story at all, so perhaps this is going out on a limb here, but I can at the very least say that she did not go through what Five did. There is really no one in the series whose backstory can equate to Five’s. And while I am not entirely excusing Five for being a shitty person sometimes, he and The Handler are very different in the fact that while he was sculpted into one, I think The Handler was just born an awful, monstrous human being. Actually worse than Five. And you know why?
The Handler isn’t even capable of love or empathy or putting anyone else before herself. We don’t see this at all, not even once. The Handler does things strictly for the benefit of herself and no one else. Even when her own self proclaimed daughter asks her if she ever loved her, The Handler doesn’t answer and then proceeds to murder her. Que sera, sera. (Whatever will be, will be). No remorse. No regret. Nothing.
Five, for all of his faults and flaws and uh, murder, still remains more connected to humanity than The Handler. Despite everything he has experienced, everything he has lost, he still has an inkling of heart that’s still beating for others left in him. Because Five still does love and care for people - his entire life purpose is to keep those people, his family, safe and alive, even at the expense of his own happiness and life. Five puts his family before himself every episode, every damn step of the way. He survives 40+ years alone and then works as an assassin for an unspoken measurement of time, all to save his family.
The Handler throws up the front of being a people person and charming. And she does it really damn well. But in reality she is not morally gray. She doesn’t do some good things and some awful things. She is just all around horrible. She employs Five, again, to work for the organization that tore so much away from him. She dangles the idea of a new body before him, gives him a suit with the claim, “clothing make the man, Five,” as if he isn’t something to be taken seriously in his current physical state, as if he still isn’t the man who survived a lifetime in the end of the world and becoming an assassin. She claims that Five owes her because she ‘saved him from a lifetime of being alone’, which in actuality she watched and allowed him to suffer exactly just that. (I have another meta on here about that scene in particular, which you can read HERE). She tricks Five into murdering the board so she can assume power, all under the guise of claiming to help him get his family back to 2019, only to then use him as a scapegoat in their assassination. She literally kills him (almost) and all of his siblings. She writes the kill order on Lila’s parents, lets Five kill them, and then kidnaps Lila all for her own benefit. She continuously lies to her, ultimately betrays her, and kills her too. She sees zero wrongness in kidnapping a disabled boy from his mother so she can transform him into her weapon just like she did Lila. There isn’t a single instance in the entirety of the show where The Handler shows even an ounce of regret, only shock and anger when things don’t go her way. She is power hungry, merciless, and quite possibly even deranged with how unemotive she is towards other human beings.
And one more thing I want to touch on with The Handler that is a bit of a controversial topic in the show - her handsey-ness with Five. Her unnecessary touching and closeness. I am a firm non believer of the idea many have that her and Five used to be involved romantically or physically in any way. I think it’s quite a reach to imagine Five trusting her whatsoever at any point during their time knowing one another. Five is observant as hell and smart - I just can’t see him ever having an ounce of trust in her, especially with again, how she blatantly admits to him when they first meet that the Commission has been watching him for some time. So no, I don’t think her creepy touches with him have anything to do with a former fling (even if Kate or Aidan play into it that way or claim they might have in the past - sorry, headcanon not accepted lol).
I view her behavior as demeaning. I see it as her being condescending towards him, like, “Oh, see how you betrayed me and now look at how you fucked up. Small and weak and nothing to be taken seriously.” She treats him like the tiny child he has physically become and she does it to make him feel inferior and like he has no control of the situation he is in or his life. It’s a slap in the face, a reminder of what he has done to himself because he left the Commission, and she does it because she knows how much it bothers him to be perceived that way. Everything she does and says around Five, she does to make him feel small.
All in all, I really do love The Handler. Do I love that she played a larger role in season 2 than Carmichael? Absolutely not. I don’t love what her character did for the writing or the plot of the show and how it backburnered a lot of things. I think they missed out greatly on a character who was already a fascinating antagonist to Five (Carmichael). However, Kate Walsh is an absolute delight to watch on screen. Her and Aidan have great chemistry and play off one another very well and their scenes are certainly some of my most favorite to watch. I think The Handler is an amazing villain and keeping her as a female as opposed to a male Jon Hamm esque actor as they originally were intending to do was a great idea IMO. I love a female bad ass, even if she is a villain. I’m sad we won’t see more of her purely because she is so fun to watch (and her wardrobe is utter goals) but I’m definitely ready to move on to the next set of antagonists for our favorite dysfunctional family.
#the handler#five hargreeves#number five#tua#the umbrella academy#meta#kate walsh is still a fuckin queen
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