#i need to make a tag for all the threats i get lmao
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Go fuck yourself. I hope you break your fingers so you can't even type your "prompts" and can rot in bed alone where you belong without bothering any real artists anymore.
it's really amazing how you give the slightest, slightest quantity of pushback and the marginalizing language comes RIGHT out. come fuck me yourself, coward
#ai art discourse#not ask#discourse#i need to make a tag for all the threats i get lmao#ableism#personal
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My Personal Shadow Magic Headcanons - "Shadow Sickness"
I'm so autistic and lazy so here's another weirdly-worded headcanons post from me at 4 AM (lmk if I need to tag this as anything specific btw
What I'm personally calling "Shadow Sickness" is the official, prolonged version of Backlash - adverse effects that target the practitioner even outside of the duel circle and in their everyday lives. While "Backlash" refers to the immediate and spontaneous barrage of attacks that takes place after a Shadow spell, "Shadow Sickness" is the gradual deterioration of the practitioner's mind, body, and soul. True to the name, this effect likens more to an illness, a virus; something that's alive and slowly takes over until there is nothing healthy left behind. The symptoms are emotional, physical, mental, and even spiritual.
While regular Magic has life force within it, Shadow Magic is the only type of magic that can be considered "sentient". Not a thinking being with goals and plans, but something living and breathing with the most basic instincts. It's what's considered "Chaotic" and dangerous about it - the Wizard bends and controls regular Magic, but Shadow Magic can bend and control the Wizard. It is the only type of magic that can "fight back" in its own way.
This sentience is what allows for Shadow Sickness and Backlash to happen - these are purely just the results of it "fighting back". The Shadow Magic is reacting to the practitioner. It's acting by its nature by rearing its head back and snapping the hand that controls it. If the practitioner is NOT sound and secure in their mental, physical, and spiritual health, then Backlash and Shadow Sickness can cause even more adverse effects within the Wizard and as a result can suffer more severely.
Symptoms of Shadow Sickness
Symptoms of Shadow Sickness can vary between physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. The "virus" affects every single aspect of the being, down to their very life. The severity of these symptoms can also vary depending on certain variables. Unlike a true virus, Shadow Sickness has no "incubation period" and can flare up at any time during which the Wizard is practicing Shadow Magic. These symptoms include:
Physical scarring (physical, emotional, mental, spiritual) - one of the only symptoms that comprise of all four categories. Scars may appear on the Wizard's body that take various shapes and forms: most commonly taken after that individual's unsolved trauma. This includes old grudges, previous serious injuries that have not healed correctly, repressed memories, obsessions and delusions, etc. No two scars look the same (i.e. two different wizards who have a fear of spiders will have scars that look entirely different from the other). Depending on the severity these scars can cause physical discomfort (tingling, numbness, pain, leathery skin, decay/cellular deterioration) and can greatly impact how the Wizard looks to others to how the Wizard can move around.
Involuntary movements (physical, mental, spiritual) - the Wizard may begin suffering from accidental and spontaneous gestures and movement that is either randomized or triggered. This can include loss of coordination, disorientation, mini seizures, jerks and spasms, etc. Other than being physically affected, the Wizard is not suffering from any medical emergencies. The individual is fully conscious and aware when this happens and depending on the severity, can recover seconds after. This is one of the only symptoms where others could be harmed due to a wayward hand that comes flying out by accident. There is also a magical version of this, where involuntary spells or bursts of magic can be cast spontaneously (hence the 'spiritual' aspects of this symptom as mana comes from the soul). Usually these magical bursts are Shadow Magic and not the Wizard's primary or secondary Magic abilities. (Another involuntary trait recorded is the Wizard suddenly switching to an ancient "Shadow Language" in mid-speech.)
Hallucinations (physical, mental) - the Wizard may begin to experience things that cannot be detected by any other individual. Usually these hallucinations start out as smells or taste first, but there are reports of the Wizard hearing, sensing, and even seeing things to start out with. Contrary to popular belief not all hallucinations are violent or even turn out to be that way, some reports even describe them as pleasant. Hallucinations vary from each Wizard even with those who share the same traumas or fears. Depending on the severity of the symptoms, the Wizard can either be fully aware or completely immersed within them. Since these are only hallucinations they cannot harm the Wizard but can cause further deterioration to the mind.
Depleted energy/"Mana Loss" (physical, spiritual) - as the Shadow Sickness takes hold, eventually the Wizard will be slowly sapped of strength and magical energy. THIS IS DIFFERENT FROM IF THE WIZARD IS SKILLED IN SHADOW MAGIC. A Wizard can practice Shadow Magic and still NOT be affected by this. Since Shadow Magic "takes", Shadow Sickness does the same and gradually depletes the Wizard's energy. Like how Backlash takes health in a duel, Shadow Sickness takes your life. This is the only symptom that is constant in all cases of Shadow Sickness. Not only will the ability to cast spells be taken away, but overall physical health will suffer as well and the individual is more susceptible to regular diseases due to a compromised immune system. This symptom only appears in the very last stages of Shadow Sickness and is the last symptom of the individual experiences in their lifetime.
Tulpas (emotional, mental, spiritual) - contrasting hallucinations, Tulpas are the Wizard's visions made real. A Tulpa (from Shadow Sickness) is a physical and magical manifestation of the Wizard suffering from the Shadow "virus". Although it is born from the subconscious of another being, it is a separate entity all its own and has the ability to make decisions and have feelings and desires. However, these feelings and desires are not really of their own and reflect the Wizard's subconscious fears and threat responses. (i.e. our Azteca Tulpa in Khrysalis that formed due to unresolved survivor's guilt. Its "goal" was to destroy us and fully consume us within itself, similar to how guilt behaves in reality). Tulpas can either be created from visions, nightmares, intense and obsessive thoughts, or even previous hallucinations.
Can Shadow Sickness be reversed, or cured?
Shadow Sickness can be reversed, yes, or more commonly halted. Unless the Wizard is fully submersed in their mental and spiritual anguish ((Malistaire even though he wasn't using shadow magic; Morganthe even though that wasn't what killed her)) Shadow Sickness can be stopped. The road to recovery varies wildly from each person so there is no set "recovery time" in which you are expected to be fully healed. It is your own journey and it is ultimately your say whether or not you are better. Clinically, recovery can be sorted between these categories
HALTED: In which the Shadow Sickness is no longer infecting the individual but the symptoms may still persist. These symptoms do not get worse or better, but the Wizard's mind is clear and their soul is at peace. Wizards may either learn to live comfortably and adapt with their Halted condition or could continue to strive for partial or full recovery.
PARTIAL RECOVERY: In which the Shadow Sickness is reversed slightly or moderately. The effects are not all the way gone but are measured to be better than when the Wizard was still infected. In this state any severe symptoms the Wizard is experiencing are now moderate or slight, or less frequent. Just like in the Halted category, the Wizard is sound of mind, body, and soul.
FULL RECOVERY: In which Shadow Sickness is totally reversed and there are no more symptoms that persist. Full, 100% recovery is actually quite rare in the Spiral and a lot of scholars consider the Full Recovery to count as "70% or more reduced" - meaning the symptoms are very slight and few and far in between. Technically this is still a Partial Recovery but due to the above fact and how difficult it is to reverse Shadow Sickness, 'Full Recovery' is an umbrella term. Some individuals even claim Full Recovery even if their symptoms are moderate, because their mind and soul are no longer diseased.
ONE LAST FACT TO LEAVE OFF WITH: Not every Wizard who practices Shadow Magic suffers from Shadow Sickness, and alternatively even the most skilled Shadowmage can develop Shadow Sickness.
okay this took days. bye hope you liked this
#btw tagging some of these symptoms jic theyre triggering to some#tw seizures#tw hallucinations#lmk if i need to tag anything else#BUT YEAH THIS IS IT#i got lazy at the end but i def wanna expand on this#a few things i wanna talk about more in depth: the 'shadow language' thing and the 'mana comes from the soul' thing#BUT THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO MAKE#giving holly even MORE trauma#due to canon reasons and because i love suffering holly isnt even in the “halted” category#theyre still suffering from ongoing shadow sickness. its progressing a hell of a lot slower than others but shes def feeling it#due to ambrose's thinky veiled threat of always being watched and everyone else unintentionally-#-brushing aside holly's health the shadow sickness remains undetected#except for velma. she sees that shit#but since holly is the master of bottling things up theyre like “ahaha what virus” (throws up black blood)#holly has the scarring as the worst symptom and has a few specific scars i wanna talk about in another post#but they also suffer from hallucinations and the shadow language thing#since holly is unintentionally holding off the worst of the Sickness she doesnt have the mana depletion yet#i think i forgot like maybe one or two symptoms but im so tired ugh. this is all yall are getting for now LMAO#idk if this is even a good post. im proud of it#one symptom i forgot to mention is madness. or i think thats the end result same as depletion#its what morganthe suffered dueing the end of her life as a giant apider creature she just fully succumbed to the madness#wizard101#w101#wiz101#text posts
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cl16 | salute to me, i'm your american queen
pairing: charles leclerc x f!sargeant!reader
summary: [ social media au ] what the fuck is a kilometer?!?! or: charles and his girlfriend's adventures
warnings: language
faceclaim: elle fanning + pinterest
author's note: i can't explain this except that it was funny in my head. i should probably be working on the next part of deep blue but ehhhhhh. enjoy!
liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant, vogue and 763,913 others
yourusername Overjoyed with becoming an official @.tiffanyandco ambassador 🩵 Shop the Formula 1 Commemorative Grand Prix collection on their website, now available worldwide.
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charles_leclerc so this is why you couldn't come to monza? 😨
↪ yourusername sorry babe it was scheduled in advance 🥲
user damn tiffany's marketing department really popped off with choosing THE y/n sargeant to rep this line 💅
↪ user like if you think about it it's really smart, y/n isn't just one of the most popular models rn, she's also directly connected to the sport bc of logan and charles
↪ user she is literally all i want to be in the best way 😤
logansargeant where's my charger y/n? i know you have it
↪ yourusername this could've been a text message logie boy
↪ logansargeant wtf don't call me that
↪ logansargeant also you haven't unblocked me yet from that time i stole your life-size cardboard cutout of charles and brought it to williams hospitality
↪ yourusername you're not helping your case here 😒
↪ carlossainz55 silvia was looking for that y/n 😱
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f1wagupdate @.yourusername is in the paddock today for the US GP after being spotted yesterday in a hotel near the track! She has been seen in the Ferrari garage.
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user uhhh why isn't she in the williams garage???
↪ user uhhh probably cause she's dating a ferrari driver???
↪ user chill 😭 i'm sure she'll drop by
↪ user just say you're a hater and move on bro
charles_leclerc has added to their story
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yourusername has added to their story
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logansargeant replied to your story
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charles_leclerc Happy birthday my love 🥳❤️ I'm glad you had fun at your party 😉
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yourusername DELETE THE THIRD PICTURE
yourusername HOW COULD YOU
yourusername WHAT IS THIS BETRAYAL
yourusername count your days, charles leclerc
↪ logansargeant she just left the restaurant, i think you need to take her threats seriously dude
user charles is just like all the other sassy boyfriends out there 😂
user damn the road's looking real comfy tonight (i want what they have)
↪ yourusername oh dear don't do anything rash please 😭
↪ user this is why i love y/n lmao even when she's pissed at her bf she finds time to be the nicest human being ever
liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant, yourbestfriend and 6,129,320 others
yourusername just a bit older 🤟
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gigihadid happy birthday darling 🥰
↪ yourusername thank you gigi!
logansargeant happy bday sis :)
↪ yourusername AWWWW LOGAN 🥹
user is charles still alive??? 😭😭😭
↪ yourusername who knows? 🤷♀️
↪ charles_leclerc i already said i'm sorry!!!
↪ yourusername do y'all hear something?
↪ charles_leclerc we're literally on instagram y/n... 😐
carlossainz55 y/n, charles says that he'll do anything if you'll talk to him again...
↪ yourusername he knows what i want 😪
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charles_leclerc Thank you for making my life so much better just by existing in it. I love you more than words can express. At the end of the day, you're who I want by my side. I'm so glad that I'll get to call you my wife for the rest of my life 🤍
💍 11.11.23
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yourusername je t'aime 🤍
likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
#solwriting#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#charles leclerc#logan sargeant#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau
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Dub-con breeding blurb with Sukuna? You can't tell me he wouldn't do it, the men has to be pent up as hell.
Pent up yeah, I bet, a whole lot, just waiting.
Pairing: Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, use of the word Master, creampie, name-calling, degradation, demon mode Sukuna
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: This ended up being a lot longer then a blurb sorry not sorry lmao. I think Sukuna is the embodiment of if evil why hot? If evil why you wanna suck him off?
"What's the matter, where did all your attitude from before go, huh sweet cheeks?" Sukuna's hands held you by the wrists, pulling them towards himself while his other two pairs of hands kept your legs spread open, "You were so feisty before I got my cock in you."
"S-Shut up. Just... fuck!" Your back arched at one particularly deep thrust. Damn it, you were supposed to be watching him, making sure that he's not up to anything crazy. Last time you checked your duties didn't include being absolutely railed by him, but that was what was happening.
Sukuna's eyes darted all over your body, from your pretty, flustered face, your lips, red and swollen from his, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears, your body, marked by him, kisses and scratches painting such a pretty picture of his ownership over you, your clit, which was just begging for attention, your pussy, being rammed by his cock. What a sight you were.
"Your cunt is opening up. It knows it's master, about time you accepted me. You're finally being more honest with yourself. Ah, but I want you to say it, say it. Before I breed you like the bitch in heat that you are, say who your master is." You almost did, your body on the verge of betrayal, your pussy walls tightening around his dick. No, no, you couldn't lose to him. "What a stubborn bitch. It's fine, I always welcome a challenge." He started pulling on your wrists, pulling your body towards his, no longer were you just having his cock rammed into you but he was pulling you onto it too, the frequency of the wet, slapping sounds increasing, along with your moans. "Close?"
He was so damn smug, he knew it already, he just wanted to humiliate you more, "No." You lied, "I... I can't... I won't..."
"You can and you will. Disobedient slut, think you can lie to the King? Fine, I'll make your slutty pussy admit it then as it takes my seed." Sukuna almost roared as he smirked down at you, his eyes locked on your still defiant face, "It wants it already, your pussy wants my cum. So dirty of you, wanting to be breed by the man who you're supposed to hate. I'll breed you for all to see, for all to know you're my woman, mine."
"Go. To. Hell." Your threat was a lot less convincing with how good his cock felt inside of you. Sukuna's hand guided one of yours towards your clit and without thinking you started rubbing to. "Fuck...!" It felt so good, so damn good, you shouldn't enjoy it, you should hate him, want him dead. You did but... a part of you also wanted his cock, and that part was starting to get hard to ignore.
His triumphant laughter made you feel even more ashamed, "That's it. It feels good doesn't it, to give in. Surrender, and I'll take good care of you. You don't need the Sorcerers anymore, hell they probably won't take you back now that you've enjoyed my cock. Or maybe they will, because they know your good pussy can keep me at bay."
You bit your lip, struggling against the reality of his words with little success. He shouldn't be right, he shouldn't hold any sort of power over you, he shouldn't make you feel good. But he was, against all your wishes he was making you feel so damn good right now. Desired, and the way he spoke, like it was all you, it was you who could keep him at bay. You, as long you were his.
"Never again." You still tried to argue against him.
"Liar. You're such a liar. But I have all the time in the world to get you to be honest with me. In the meantime, I want to see how much cum this hole can hold." He started going faster, at lightning speed almost as his thrusts actually stung where his body met yours, "Dishonest mouth but a honest pussy I see. You'll take it, take my seed, get pregnant you little lying whore, see if you can deny me then, when you're properly breed and round with my child." Sukuna roared his release, his cock shooting bursts of thick, hot, white cum.
The sensation made your body halt in the spot, then start shaking as your orgasm hit you, your fingers moving recklessly and with wild, lustful abandon over your clit. "Pull out." You groaned and whimpered, already knowing it was too late for him to do so. Still he obliged, smug as ever, but only to see the flood of his cum rushing out of your still clenching hole. "You're such a fucking bastard."
"Agreed. At least I admit what I am. You'll get there soon too, until then..." Sukuna leaned back and pulled you along, four arms wrapping around you, "I'll have to teach you your lesson over and over. Get ready for round two." His cock entered your sensitive hole again, starting the process until you admitted that you were his.
#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#sukuna#sukuna x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk x fem!reader
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Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.
Good To Be Back On the Air || Alastor x reader
tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal
a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!
Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.
True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.
As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.
Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.
"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.
Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.
Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.
Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.
"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"
Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.
Hazbin Hotel.
Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?
With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.
Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"
On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"
To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.
With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.
"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.
"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.
Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.
Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.
"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."
You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.
Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.
"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."
"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."
It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?
Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.
"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"
Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.
On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"
Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.
An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.
"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.
"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."
Vox groans in protest. "I know."
Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.
Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.
Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.
"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.
"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.
"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.
Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."
"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"
Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.
Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."
Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."
Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.
Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.
#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin imagines#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x reader#alastor imagine#alastor x you#cherubfae 2024#tw: kidnapping
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APOLOGIZE FOR LOVING ★ MV1
pairing: max verstappen x hamilton!reader
summary: Your relationship with Max gets leaked. People are ruthless because of your last name.
warnings: set in 2026 (kinda, let’s pretend aus23 happened in 2026), angst (?), hate and toxicity, mentions of misogyny.
note: you wanted a max fic, i deliver !!
yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 817,625 others
ynhamilton Melbourne, you are mind-blowing. Congratulations to the 3 champions. What an unforgettable weekend. 💙
tagged: lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial
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lewishamilton love u 💜💜
hater1 traitor
hater2 APOLOGIZE TO LEWIS WTH
hater3 i think she hasn’t seen the news lmao
lewishamilton’s insta story
ynhamilton and maxverstappen1 (shared post)
Liked by 2,725,891 people
ynhamilton Sometimes we are placed into unexpected circumstances, trust is broken, and anger overtakes. But despite it all, love has always been and will be our answer.
In 2018, Max Verstappen and I, Y/n Hamilton, started dating. At the beginning, we chose to be private because it was a new thing, but after Max’s first tittle in 2021, we knew it was the smart thing to do if we wanted peace.
By 2022 we got engaged, in 2023 we got married. Back then, our silence was nature, we never said anything, we never did an announcement because of it. We didn’t feel like we needed to.
Lately, we had been talking about going public, we wanted to share our love and happiness, it seemed to be good timing. It’s 2026, we expected it to be peaceful.
It’s important to mention we appreciate those who have received it in a positive way, but we’re saddened for the others who have proved right our worries.
We cannot express enough how disappointed, frustrated, and deeply angry we are to see how women keep being treated as nothing more than a form of burden or threat to powerful, successful men. Even when they’re family. It’s disrespectful to everyone involved.
We know how our relationship can be seen as, we know how it can twisted into a scandal, we made decisions based and because of it. Nevertheless, we want to make something clear:
We do not own anyone anything, we don’t need to ask for permission to be who we are, and we will never, ever, apologize to anyone —family, friends or public— for loving the way we do.
Max & Y/n Verstappen-Hamilton.
comments are off
# “ ࣭⸰ ★ my writings !#max verstappen#mv1#mv33#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#max verstappen smut#max verstappen f1#red bull f1#red bull formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 social media au#formula one#f1 2023#f1 angst#f1 smau
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Rain
this song inspired me today. i cry to it every time lmao
Law x Reader, fluff, reader is a member of the hearts pirates, established friendship/situationship, reader confesses, basically a scene out of every romance film, kissing in the rain
tag list: @vangowithit @fanaticsnail @dakingsu-blog
word count: 1,016
masterlist here
You sat on the cool grass, watching the seagulls fly over the nearby shore. The winds were picking up speed and the skies were graying slowly. Bepo had told the crew that a bad storm was coming, completely dramatizing the strength of the storm. Law had emphasized that everyone was to be back in the bunker you were stationed in, glaring at you specifically. You were known to never follow directions, it’s not like you’d get in trouble anyway. You giggled at the memory, imagining how slightly inconvenienced Law was that you were sitting alone on a grassy hill observing as the storm brewed. You felt calm, relaxed. The air smelled of mercury and that humid scent of upcoming rain. The air was cool and soothing. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel and breathe. You imagined how you were going to apologize to Law. Making him a meal always worked, but then you were his favorite crew member so anything would work. You felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your meditative state. “We have to go to the bunker.” You heard Law’s voice.
You opened your eyes and turned to face your captain. “In a minute, I want to see the rain.” You whined, looking up at the sky. He could never be mad at you, his face had worry written all over it. “The storm may be dangerous, didn’t you hear Bepo? Let’s go.” Law’s tone was firm, demanding. But not from a place of authority but a place of concern. You loved that he cared so much about you. He cared about the crew but you. You were different. His eyes told you, his actions spoke volumes, he didn't need to say it. But you wanted him to. You wanted to hear it. Cool droplets of water collided with your skin, the beginning of a hard rain. You stood up, taking Law’s hand and letting him lead the way.
You knew he wanted to spend time with you, that's why he went himself to fetch you. The threat of a storm was the excuse he needed. Law could easily use his ability to get you to the bunker faster, but he opted to walk hand in hand with you. You felt yourself blush at your thoughts, squeezing Law’s hand slightly. The sprinkling rain turned into heavy rain. The sky above was a smoky gray and thunder shook the air around you. Your hair was sticking to your face and you felt the water seeping into your socks. You looked at Law and felt nothing but happiness, serene. Brief images of the friendship you shared with Law flashed through your mind, thinking back to all the moments you could've told him how you felt but chose not to. Not wanting to ruin the moment. But this moment felt perfect. Making a fast decision, you smiled as you took a deep breath. You wanted it out there, you wanted him to hear it..
You stopped running, causing Law to stumble to a stop. He looked back at you, trying to read your expression. You bit your lip and let go of his hand. Feeling your heart beat faster you smiled, feeling adrenaline coursing through your body. “I love you, Law. Trafalgar D. Water Law. I love you. I honestly don't know who I would be if I never met you. You just had to know.” You were gleaming, your clothes were soaking wet and your eyes were squinting through the rain. He stood there, processing in silence. You noticed his chest and shoulders moving as his breathing quickened. He looked into your eyes, droplets falling from his hat. His clothes were sticking to his body, outlining his physique underneath this shirt. Suddenly he walked towards you, his hands cupping your face as he held your gaze. His breathing was shallow. His eyes scanned your face in disbelief.
Law leaned into you, gently pressing his lips against yours. Kissing you softly as he grows more passionate. His hands held onto your face as the kiss deepened. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself closer to him. Rain continued to shower over you, the sounds of water hitting the ground and the distant thunder growing closer only emphasized the moment. You felt weightless. His lips glided over yours, they were soft. Law pulled away, his face a slight pink. He chucked under his breath. “I wanted to say it first.” He whispered before kissing you once more. He was slow and gentle, you could feel him holding back passion. His hands slid down your arms before landing on your waist. You swore you were floating. The water had completely soaked both of you. The patter of the rain was slowing down and you could feel a distant ray of sun hitting your arm. Law broke the kiss once more, looking up at the sky as the clouds had lost their deep gray color.
“Looks like the rain stopped.” He noted, gazing at the sky. “Bepo was exaggerating the storm huh? Typical.” You laughed. “Guess so.” Law looked down at you, smiling as he kissed your forehead lightly. The rim of his hat was dripping with water. He took your hand and the walk to the bunker continued. The squelching sound coming from your shoes, completely full of water, was getting on his nerves. He sighed, stopping in front of you. He hunched over. “Get on my back, I’ll get us there.” You smiled to yourself as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You hopped on his back, allowing him to hook his arms around your thighs. Using his ability, you find yourself inside the bunker with Law. Bepo looked at both of you, a startled expression on his face. “Captain!” He ran over as Law placed you down. “Storm wasn't as deadly as you said Bepo.” Law stated. “Sorry, Captain. I was just being cautious.” You laughed. “It was fun though, wasn't it.” You elbowed Law, causing him to turn bright red. “I guess you could say that...” Law responded.
#one piece#one piece fic#opla#x reader#one piece fluff#law one piece#law op#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar d water law
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Kinktober Day 6 (Dubcon)
Harry Warden x Reader (NSFW)
(773 Words)
Summary: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines
Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, EXTREMELY dubious consent (like seriously), dead dove do not eat, descriptions of violence, guilt, confusing and shameful feelings, reader is a little delirious from the mining fumes, fear play (kinda), penetrative sex, Harry Warden being scary, coming on clothes, pickaxe threats
Notes: this one was a little tough to write, but I’m proud of how it turned out :) I’m starting to near the “oh man, I’m running out of inspo” phase, but fuck it we ball, we’ll push through LMAO enjoy the fic!!!
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There was no time to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been running and you didn’t know where you could even go. These mines were like a labyrinth. The air became lighter the further down you ran. Exhaustion and gradual decrease of oxygen quality makes for a deadly duo, but you couldn’t think about that now. All your friends were dead- at least, that’s what you’ve begun to accept. Reaching another dead end in front of you, the heavy footsteps of the murderous miner pounded in the distance.
Back against the wall, you sink to your feet, feeling utterly helpless. Around the corner of the darkened mineshaft, Harry Warden- the urban legend of the town, stalks into view.
As he creeps closer, his bloodied pickaxe comes into view. You remember just an hour ago, how it swung into skulls of your peers. The screams ring out in your brain. The image of the light leaving their eyes as blood and organs pool around you is forever etched in your memory.
You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, the collar of your shirt crumpled between his gloved hands. You can’t see anything at all behind the vacant, blacked out eyes of his dust mask. The wind is knocked out of you as he slams you against the jagged walls of the tunnel. You’re forced to deeply inhale the noxious fumes of the mine, making your brain go hazy as the miner’s hands grip onto your waist, traveling under your shirt.
You let out a soft gasp that weren’t entirely sure was out of fear or arousal. You’ve been running in these mines for so long, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. On one hand, you felt scared, alone, traumatized- definitely in need of some therapy after a situation as dire as this, wanting nothing more than to push him off you and run out of the tunnels. On the other hand, you were feeling utterly amorous as you allowed yourself to get felt up and groped by a pickaxe-wielding maniac, morbidly curious to see how far you were willing to go.
Your brain was running itself completely ragged. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Maybe the poor air quality and fumes were messing with your head- scrambling the terror and confusion and adrenaline and lust that were fighting over how your body should be reacting.
You could hear heavy grunts and muffled breathing through his mask. He was impossibly close to you, the heat of each other making the already compact mining tunnels feel like a pressure cooker. The unintentional (or was it?) friction from one another distracted you from your thoughts. It didn’t feel right to enjoy this, especially after witnessing something so violent and grotesque, but that didn’t matter once Harry Warden unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock.
As you felt your pants being forced down, you attempt to push off the walls, but are met with his pickaxe- dripping with that fresh crimson, to the side of your neck.
You stare at him, terrified, yet exceedingly desperate. “I don’t want to die.” You whisper.
Harry reels back, swinging the pickaxe. You violently flinch, shrieking in terror as the pickaxe is wedged into the wall beside you. Before giving you any time to settle from the fear, Harry Warden pushes himself inside you, dripping and eager.
You wail in ecstasy as his cock pumps into you so quickly. You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. The strangled groans from inside his mask burrow their way into your mind, mingling with the screams and pleading from your friends being violently murdered. It scared you to know how aroused you were. Your friends were dead and here you were, getting fucked stupid by the man who killed them. And you liked it.
Your orgasm crashes into you, powerfully and unexpectedly. You shudder around the miner, who sloppily continues to thrust into you, not far behind in his own release. You could now add cum to the blood and dust that stained your clothes as he shoots his load onto you.
Your tainted clothes were the least of your problems now compared to your tainted mind. The thought of what just happened finally begins to sink it. You weren’t scared or disgusted, but were more so scared and disgusted at the fact that you didn’t feel like that at all. You didn’t know what would happen next, but there was one thing that you would continue to tell yourself for as long as you had left to live: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#harry warden x reader#harry warden smut#harry warden imagine#harry warden x you#slasher x reader#slasher smut#slasher imagine#slasher x you#mia writes horror!!!
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toxic!armin head canons
author’s note: this fr has been a long time coming. it took a while to gather my thoughts lmao. he can’t be sweet all the time, right??😭
warning: modern au. toxic characteristics — obsession, jealousy, possessiveness. gaslighting.
18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
we're not gonna look away from armin's whole underlying character trait of being a known manipulator. he is going to gaslight you.
armin starts his mind games as a last resort. when he's desperate to have his way. when he's being back into a corner, and you're holding your ground in an argument or disagreement. when you're winning and he's losing. he'll play into his unfortunate-baby face-sweet-boy persona and say, "i'm only telling you/doing this because i love you!" armin slaps, "I don't know what you want me to do." at the end of most arguments because he knows it will make you quit arguing out of pure frustration.
we can all agree armin goes through your phone
he immediately clicks on iMessage to see who you’ve been texting. snoops through everything. pictures, contacts, notes. all of it. armin goes all up in your private dm’s, discord, looks through your snapchats. who you’ve been sending tiktoks to. he’s so extra, he even scrolls on your social media timelines. your dash. your fyp. just to see what you’re always looking and giggling at bc who is making you laugh if it’s not him ? arminknows he won’t find anything and that you would never do anything behind his back. but he looks anyway and holds his breath just in case. and, if he does find something he doesn’t like, he will confront you about it and not even address the bigger question
major attachment issues. in bold, italics and regular size font.
the root cause being his parents died when he was really young and was only raised by his grandpa who worked all the time. /: armin definitely has mommy issues. he's very anxious to pleasure you and do everything you want him to bc a.) he's hopelessly devoted to you b.) for some reason he think it'll make you love him more. armin will get really attached to you after the first date, and everything in your relationship moves quickly. he says i love you first. 3 months into the relationship you’re moving in together. engaged after 1 year, married 6 months later. he’s sensitive and in tune with everything you’re doing and feeling and saying. the slightest change in your voice, oh you must be mad at him. when you're literally just tired and have 0 energy, he must be annoying you. armin needs regular reassurance and validation. he will straight up ask “do you still love me?” at least once a day.
armin gets jealous so. so easily.
armin thinks he's not good enough for you and that you deserve someone who can do the things he can't, while simultaneously not being able to bear the thought of you being with another man. he views other guys as a threat and is off-putting on purpose. he goes through your followers and interactions daily and reports guys who leave compliments and thirsts. he gives guys dirty looks when he see's them obviously looking at you. will ask trap questions like "would you still be with me if you could start your life over?" armin is well liked among your girlfriends but makes no effort with your guy friends, and has succeeded in distancing you from a few of them. he disguises ultimatums as open communication. armin's jealousy is a delicate spectrum.
he's very possessive of you.
you're his everything and he wants everyone to know that. you're so gorgeous, he's not gonna hide you away. armin recognizes that you're your own person, and you can show off however you'd like. as long as he's somewhere in the background. he encourages that you tag him in all your posts. he fights for his life trying to convince you to let him come with you while you go out with your friends and he wins most of the time. but when he has to stay home, he stays up and waits for you, he double/triple texts and asks when you'll be home even though you made a point to give him a timeframe. and don't even be 5 minutes late because armin already has seventy-five questions lined up. if he's feeling extra silly, he'll start a fight over text. 🤪
2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted.
🪼 — @artsyblkblocked / @sleazymac-n-cheesy / @arlerts-angel / @chiinni / @aegonslawyer / @stoned-eren /
#its not even his fault fr.#he’s just protective that’s all.#he’s been through a lot and he can’t always help it ok#my writing#armin arlert#armin imagine#armin headcanons#toxic!armin#armin drabble#armin one shot#armin x reader#armin x y/n#armin x you#armin x black reader#armin x fem reader#armin x black y/n
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This request is actually inspired by my fic I'm writing and I wanted to see your interpretation of the scene.
Tav is the daughter of a well known pirate, basically the black beard of Baldur's Gate, but after an attack that lead to her father and alot of the crews death she roamed Baldur's Gate until the mindflayer thing happened.
Currently, she and everyone are at a tavern, celebrating another successful quest and honestly still being alive when she hears a familiar song and she sees four old crew members (family) she thought was gone. What is your interpretation of the scene, how would Astarion would react to the news, and seeing her reuinte with her family?
I did not expect this to turn out as long as it did lmao
Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)
Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing
Word Count: 2,123
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
The tavern was lively and bustling on the evening you and your companions squeezed in, the sun beginning to paint the sky in dramatic colors as it sets. Almost instantly, your party's spirits are lifted - yours included.
Finding a table for 7 people is no easy feat, but you manage to snag one in the corner. Drinks were served around, jokes about the battle you’d just endured and old stories of lives before the Illithid threat fill the air with an easy camaraderie. It reminds you of your father's ship, of the crew that raised you. Thinking about them again left a bitter taste in your mouth. Astarion must have noticed the distant look in your eye. He reached under the table for your hand, interlacing your fingers easily, and trying to catch your eye.
You smile at him, but your eyes are still glazed over. “I’m just thinking about my family, is all,” you tell him, as though it’s as mundane as thinking of what one needs to get from the market to make dinner. You’d told him of your father, his crew, the ship - and what happened to it. It’s been months, but it’s still too fresh. You still wake up in the dead of night from visions of colossal waves that pull your head under, and screams cut short with the slice of a cutlass. “This… reminds me of them.”
He offers a concerned smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m flattered we remind you of drunken sailors,” he drawled sarcastically. It worked to get a laugh out of you, if nothing else.
“Drunken pirates,” you correct. He watches the smile slip, your eyes become distant once more, water pricking at the corners.
Astarion had a… complicated relationship with family. He couldn’t remember his parents, and the “family” Cazador provided were less-than-welcoming at best. As such, he never really knew how to comfort you in times like these. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone, really, but he wanted to try, at least.
“Gods,” you sigh, choked with emotion, “I miss those daft fools.” You lean your head against his shoulder. He maneuvers to wrap his arm around your middle, holding you close, and takes your hand again. “We used to celebrate like this,” you mumbled. His elven ears picked it up easily. “We’d drown the night in ale and groan about it in the morning. Played knife-throwing games as our visions start to spin and double. Sing songs at the top of our lungs, like screaming it would scare away any monster at sea.”
You sigh again. Though he can’t see your face, he can see when you use your free hand to wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”
“Darling,” he hums, squeezing your hand, “we are technically in this together. Your burdens are mine and all that. In any case, you’ve carried all of our burdens, even when you didn’t have to. I’m only returning the favor.”
“Thank you.” You lift your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He grins, all too pleased with the simple affection you lavish on him. “Now, enough wallowing.” You clear your throat and grab your tankard. “This is a celebration. And I intend to be too drunk to walk before the night is out.”
He sighed dramatically, lifting his goblet of wine. “And I suppose I’ll be the one to carry you back to camp?”
You smirk up at him, a glint in your eye. Like this, he can imagine you as the pirate you are. Swashbuckling and taking down other ships, climbing up ropes to the top of the sails, peering out from the crow’s nest for any sign of adventure. Dry land did not suit you, he thought.
But then came the thoughts that always followed. If you did return to the sea, to your old life with a new crew, after these tadpoles are removed, he couldn’t follow. The only reason he’s safe from the sun and the burn of running water was because of the damned, wriggly things. He couldn’t follow you onto a ship to be locked away in confined cabins until night, or help if the waters chose to fold over the deck in great big waves, threatening to take down the vessel. He couldn’t have that life. Not with you.
Your head was thrown back, neck bobbing with each gulp of shitty ale. You did not see the pain on his features those thoughts brought him. He tossed back the last of his wine.
You stand and gather the empty mugs of your companions, bright-eyed and ready for round after round (Karlach only encourages this.), when something sounds across the tavern. It’s a rather large establishment, and the bustle of other patrons covers up everything. But it’s there. Loud and boisterous and-
You rush to step over the bench and find the source of the noise. Astarion frowns and chases after. He’s right on your tail as you push through drunkards with half-formed “Excuse me”s and “Coming through”s. As you get closer and closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s not just noise - it’s singing. A cacophony of voices all singing together.
You squeeze past a barmaid, nearly knocking the drinks from her hands, but the apology is lost when you see a table full of drunken pirates. One starts to take a swig mid-song, when his eyes land on you. He’s on his feet - Is that a peg leg? - in an instant, dropping the tankard carelessly to the table.
“Tav?” he gasps. The rest fall silent, turning around to see what the man was gawking at. They thought he was imagining it, as he’d done time and again since the attack. They all leapt up and rushed forward when you were more than a figment of their alcohol-addled minds.
Astarion was pushed aside as a horde of pirates surrounded you, hugging you and ruffling your hair and all speaking hurriedly with worry and joy. He can’t ignore the pain in his chest, as though someone had driven a stake through his heart. You hugged each one, misty eyed. Questions fell ceaselessly from your lips as you asked how they survived, what happened, what they’d been doing all this time. And he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. He could not hope to be more important than your family. He couldn’t be the one you chose - not when you’d recounted your friends with tales of the open ocean and your father’s crew for hours.
He quietly backed away. The others ask why you rushed off and what was happening when he returned to grab the bottle of wine. He wasn’t too sure what he said. He’d like to think it was some sort of “They found their family” said with a charming grin, and a simple, but believable, excuse to go back to camp not like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but like a vampire with things that need doing back at camp. Alone. With a bottle of wine.
Your eyes are red and your smile is about to burst off your face when you drag your pirate family over to meet your companions. You’re bouncing on your feet with energy, introducing everyone and nearly crying again when the pirates embrace everyone like family. Your heart is soaring when you look around for Astarion, searching around the table, the bar, the crowd. And it starts falling when you don’t see him anywhere.
“Hey, have any of you seen Astarion?”
Gale groaned as he was released from a bone-crushing hug. He winced as he held his shoulder. “He said he was heading back to camp.”
Your heart crashed firmly against hard cement, leaving cracks in the foundation. “Back to- Why? Did he say why?”
“No,” Shadowheart answered this time, trying not to get caught admiring the intricate braid of another crewmate. “He just took the wine and ran.”
The warm environment suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. Was he uncomfortable with your family? They were known to be rather callous and loud - maybe they’d scared him off? Was the idea of confronting their family just too stressful for him? Did it bring up unwanted memories? Why… Why did he run off?
You touch an older pirate’s arm, letting them know you’ll be right back. They smile and nod and pull you in for one last hug. It feels bittersweet. You dash off from the tavern back to camp.
When you arrive, he’s uncorking a second bottle of stolen alcohol, frowning and grumbling and pacing. He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you’re there until you say his name. He frowns deeply at you. “Shouldn’t you be catching up with your family?” he asks, but it’s bitter and cold.
You frown. “I wanted you to meet them. Why’d you leave?”
He looks away, focusing instead on taking a long drink from the bottle. It’s had no time to air out; he almost grimaces at the flavor. He pretends to read the label. “It was getting a little crowded in there,” he dismisses.
“So you leave without saying anything?”
“Well,” he begins, drawn-out and sarcastic, creating a barrier between you and his emotions, “you were busy. I’d hate to get in the way.”
You huff. “Astarion, please, just tell me what’s wrong!”
“Nothing.” He scowls. He begins pacing again. “Nothing’s wrong! You’ve found your family again! I’m so happy for you.” He spits the word like it burns him to say it.
“Is that what this is about? My family?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?” you plead. “What’s wrong?”
“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE!” He sighs at his outburst, glaring at the ground. His feet are locked to ground, refusing to move closer or further away - because he can’t decide which would be better. “Once this is over, once we figure out how to remove these tadpoles, you’re going to run back to the sea. To a ship, with your family. And I can’t follow.” He scowls at himself. He hates laying out his thoughts, his feelings. It feels too vulnerable. He feels exposed. “You won’t stay on land.”
You won’t stay with me.
A silent war wages on in your head and in your heart. You’re torn in two directions - forced to choose between the people who raised you, the last fragments of your father and his ship, or Astarion, your vampiric lover. It’s painful.
You step forward slowly, like he’s going to startle and run away like a frightened rabbit. He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t look at you. The bottle in his hand feels too heavy.
“I love my family,” you start. You can see in an instant as his walls come back up. His face, still upset and angry, becomes stoic and defensive. “And I love the sea.” You stop in front of him. “And I love you.”
He closes his eyes, prepared for the rejection.
“I… I had a whole life on the ocean.” Your fingers brush his hand. It twitches involuntarily, wishing to hold you, for just one last moment. When he doesn’t pull away, you tangle your fingers with his. “I want to see what a future on land would be like.”
He swallows. He opens his eyes, but he can’t look at you. He looks instead at your hand in his. “And when you decide a life on a ship is better than hiding in the shadows with me?”
You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He watches longingly.
“If I decide to sail again,” you accentuate your words with a kiss to the meat of his thumb, “I’ll come back. Over and over again. I’ll sail for a week and stay with you for a month. I’ll sail a month and stay with you a year. I love you, Astarion. And I will always choose you. And when we find a cure for vampirism, you can come with me.”
He huffs a laugh. “I’d be a poor excuse for a pirate.”
“You can scrub the deck.”
He finally meets your eyes with a playful scowl. It softens into something quiet and sad. “I don’t want to tear you from your family.”
You shake your head, stepping even closer. “You’re not, I promise. Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll be damned if I don’t keep in touch. But all they know is the sea. They have no reason to stay ashore - they’re heading out with a new captain next week.” You cup his cheek with your free hand. He sighs and leans into the touch. “I want to stay on land for a while longer.”
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @cherifrog
#request#requested#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate astarion#baldur's gate tav#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 tav#fem reader#x fem reader#fem!reader#x fem!reader#fem!tav
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Bedtime 🩵
Pairing: Natasha x little!reader
Words: 2657
Warnings: This is an age regression imagine. There will be mentions of diapers, and a brief nursing scene that’s pretty detailed. If that’s not your thing, please refrain from saying so. Just move on, and pretend like it doesn’t even exist.
Summary: After a long busy day, it’s time for bed. Join Natasha and you with your bedtime routine.
Notes: This is not my first time writing age regression. This is, however, my first time positing on here so I am a little nervous. I’m sensitive lmao, so please no mean comments. Thank you and enjoy.
"Okay, in we go," Natasha murmurs as she guides you into the apartment by the hand, "take your shoes of baby." She coaxes as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coatrack.
You huff, but nod, dropping to your butt and tugging off your sneakers. You place them neatly onto the shoe rack -just like mama had taught you- before once again stumbling to your feet.
"Good girl," Natasha was quick to praise, and you smile bashfully as you allow yourself to be helped out of your coat. "Let's go get you into the tub, okay?" She retakes your hand and tugs lightly, pulling you through to the bathroom.
You'd just gotten back from a long day at the aquarium and it was now nearly nine at night, one hour after your designated bedtime on the weekends. If your quiet huffs and whines of dismay were anything to go by, Natasha knew you were getting to the point of being overtired, and if she wanted to avoid an inevitable breakdown, she knew to get you to bed as soon as possible.
"Don't want to," you murmur as you fall against Natasha's front, your hands rising cling to the material of her shirt. "No mama."
Natasha cups the back of your head with her hand and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, "I know," she placates, "but we've had a long day and you knew we always make sure we're nice and clean before bed."
Before this dynamic between them had started, your personal hygiene was mediocre at best. No one had ever taught you to shower, to wash your hair or to do anything that was remotely related to being clean. It hadn't really been a shock Natasha, because your upbringing hadn't exactly been ideal. You'd had grown up without parents, going from foster home to foster home without anyone remotely looking out for you. Nothing had ever been permanent, the threat of being kicked out looming over your shoulder at every turn.
It's what made this relationship so special. Why you were so small and needed mama to do everything for you and why Natasha did so without question. There was a trust like no other, and that would never change.
You let out a pitiful whimper and slide down Natasha's body in a dramatic like fashion, slumping onto the floor with your body curled up small.
After Natasha had checked the temperature of the water and placed the stopper into the tub, she sits herself down onto the floor next to her groggy girl and brings a hand up to brush away the hair that had fallen into your face. At the action, you peek up at her, lips pulled down into that signature frown which Natasha was often greeted with when you were upset at not getting what you wanted.
"I know you're sleepy," she acknowledges softly as she allows the pad of her thumb to graze over your cheek, "but you know the rules detka. We either have to bath in the morning, or before bedtime, and you chose bedtime when you woke up this morning. I promise as soon as you're done, mama will get you tucked up in bed with bunny so you can go night night, okay?"
Bunny was your beloved stuffed bunny. It had been one of the first things Natasha had ever gifted you, and wherever you went, bunny tagged along. He was kind of old and worn now due to all the love and snuggles he gets, but to you, he was just as good, if not better than he was the day you got him.
You simply nod.
Natasha smiles down at you as she rises to her feet and holds out her hand, "Up we get." She coaxes, and though you hesitate, you soon reach up to take mama's hand allowing yourself to be pulled to your feet.
"Good girl," Natasha praises, "let's get your clothes off mhh? The baths nearly ready."
You let yourself be undressed like a little rag doll, feeling to sleepy to try and lend a hand. Soon, you were as bare as the day you were born, and when an involuntarily shiver racks your body, you let out a quiet whimper and attempt to climb into Natasha's arms.
"Oh I know," Natasha murmurs softly as she pulls the shivering body close as close as she could to her own, bending down slightly to turn off the water. The tub was now half full with bubbles and a few toys. Just as you like it.
She gently grasps the arms around her waist and pulls them away, offering out her hands instead.
Your slightly smaller ones grasp them without hesitation.
"Big step sweet girl." Natasha reminds, and you nod in understanding as you allow yourself to be helped into the bath. Mama's hands don't let go of you until your butt hits the floor of the tub, and as you distractedly begin playing with one of your bath crayons, you distinctly hears the sound of mama grabbing your shampoo and conditioner from the cabinet underneath the sink.
It immediately has your senses on red alert, because you definitely did not like having your hair washed. It always took to long and despite mama being as gentle as she could she always ended up with soap in your eyes and it always made you cry.
"No mama," you scold 'firmly' with a pointed finger.
Natasha turns to face you with an eyebrow raised and three bottles in her hands. Shampoo, body wash, and conditioner.
"No what sweet girl?" Natasha sits down on the wooden stool used for bath time and sets down the bottles on the side of the tub.
"No hair." You whine as you frustratedly kick your legs, splashing water over the side of the tub and onto the floor.
"Hey hey, none of that," Natasha lightly scolds as she places a hand on your legs to keep them still, and you freeze as you look up at her with fear filled eyes. Natasha softens her voice significantly, because whilst she needed the little one to adhere to the warning being given, she didn't want to upset you further. "If you want to tell mama something, you do it nicely. You know that."
But despite her gentle tone, it was still a scold, and it had your bottom lip wobbling all the same.
A sense of guilt immediately fills Natasha, and she gently reaches forward to cup your cheeks before pressing a tender kiss to the spot between your brows.
"Tell mama what you were trying to say baby." she coaxes as she pulls her lips away, her thumbs still brushing over the soft skin.
You sniffle, "No hair." you whisper in a cracked voice, and though Natasha's heart breaks at the sound, she nods her head in understanding. She hates seeing her baby cry, even more so when she was the one that had caused it.
Of course she never does it purposely. Her baby was just a sensitive sole who wears her heart on her sleeve. No matter how gentle Natasha's voice was, there would always be tears.
"Okay. No hair wash tonight. Let's get you clean so we can snuggle up in bed." She grabs a clean wash cloth and dunks it into the water to wet it before squirting a decent amount of body wash onto it.
You sniffle with a small nod, bringing your attention back to her toys. You half heartedly dunk one of your plastic boats into a large pile of bubbles, but it was clear to Natasha that her little one wasn't really into her play. You were often more silent and subdued after being told off, and it always took lots of cuddles and love to bring out her giggly little girl again.
"We're done my love. Can you pull out the stopper for mama?" Natasha wrings out the wash cloth and hangs it over the side of the tub to dry.
You nod again and reach forward to unplug the stopper, watching with intrigue as the water swirls down the drain. You then look up at mama and hold up your arms.
Natasha smiles as she places her hands beneath your armpits and lifts you to your feet. "Up we go, good girl. Big step." She warns again, watching as you cling to the material of her shirt before cautiously stepping out of the tub and onto the bath mat.
It was then Natasha bundles you up into your frozen 2 towel, and when you step forward with a small whimper, hands still gripping her shirt, she easily welcomes you into her arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your forehead.
"Shh, you're okay baby. Mama's got you." She soothes as she cups the back of your head, her other hand beginning to trace gentle circles across your towel clad back.
You nod your head slightly, but your grip remains secure around Natasha's waist. Your hands had now slipped underneath her shirt too, and it tells Natasha that you're gonna be wanting some quiet time tonight.
Whenever you were overtired, or whenever you were having a bad day and needed your mama close, Natasha would always drift towards the most innocent forms of comfort. Skin to skin. The feeling of Natasha's skin against your own was one of your favourite things -with the exception of being able to nurse from her breast- and you would, without fail, always end up nestled against the woman's bare chest before the night was over.
"Up mama." You beg quietly a few moments later as you adjust your grip, your arms coming up to rest around Natasha's shoulders.
Natasha doesn't hesitate to haul you up into her arms. You were about five or so inches shorter than she was, but your builds were similar meaning there wasn't much difference between your weights. It meant that whilst Natasha could carry her little one, it was only ever manageable for short distances.
Your legs were tight around her waist as Natasha carries you through to the bedroom, and you let out a disgruntled whine when you feel yourself being set down onto the end of the bed.
"Shh," Natasha soothes, "mama needs to get your jammies and diaper, you're okay." She grabs your stuffed bunny from the top of the bed and places it into your arms. You eagerly hold it close to your chest, eyes fluttering closed when you feel a gentle kiss against your forehead. When they flicker open again, you see mama now on the other side of the room grabbing a clean pair of pyjamas from your dresser drawer.
A diaper and wipes were already in her hands, and you watch quietly as the items were placed down onto the bed next to you. You then lay back without prompt, a soft blush flushing your cheeks when mama immediately calls you a 'good girl'.
"Should we get your cute little butt all diapered, mhh?" Natasha coos as she unfolds the diaper, and you grin shyly as you nod your head and lift your hips allowing the padded item to be slid beneath you.
"Such a good girl," Natasha praises again, giving you a quick wipe down before bringing the front up and securing the tapes together. "There we go, nice a snug. Should we do your jammies now?" She playfully tickles your tummy.
You giggle as you nod your head, and Natasha finds herself laughing softly in adoration as she guides your legs into the holes of your shorts. After tugging them up so they covered your diapered behind, she grabs your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position.
"I think we'll leave your shirt off for now. That way it'll be easier to snuggle with mama, mhh?" Natasha folds the damp towel and deposits it on the back of her desk chair before placing the wipes back into their spot in the dresser drawer.
You nod, "Snuggle now mama?" You hold out the arm that wasn't clutching bunny.
Natasha cups your chin and places a kiss to your forehead,, "Just a second. Let mama change first, okay?"
You pouts, but nod, turning and crawling to the top of the bed. You knock the decorative pillows to the floor and slide beneath the covers, squirming and moving around until they weren't constricting you. Mama made the bed every single morning, and it was always neat and tidy and looked as though no one had ever slept in it.
Natasha smiles as she watches her little one mess up the bed to her liking, her hands in her hair pulling it back into its signature braid.
"Be careful," she warns when you slide a little too close to the end of the bed for her liking.
Your head peaks up over the blankets, your hair already a mess, "Will mama." You mumble with a tired grin before disappearing back beneath the covers.
Natasha playfully rolls her eyes as she wonders back into the bathroom. Her intention was to have a nice long, hot shower, but she'd do that once the little was was fast off in dreamland. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she walks back through to the bedroom. There, you were sprawled out on your back, eyes closed and your stuffed bunny held close to your chest. Natasha knew you weren't asleep however, because your breathing was way too fast.
"Make some room for mama." Natasha announces her arrival as she tugs back the blankets on her side of the bed. Technically, the whole bed was hers -as was the bedroom- but you took residence in it most nights because you didn't like to sleep by yourself even though you had a perfectly good bedroom available.
Natasha never complains though, because you do tend to use your own room for naps which gives Natasha a little time to herself.
Your eyes blearily open, and at the sight of your mama, you grin and scoot yourself towards the left side of the bed as opposed to the centre.
After Natasha had climbed in, she holds out her arms silently inviting you into them. You comply without hesitation, nestling close against the woman's bare chest as you settle pretty much on top of her.
Natasha presses a kiss to your head as she adjusts herself slightly to get comfortable beneath your weight. She rolls them onto their sides once she realises that sleeping underneath 110 pounds just would not be possible, quietly shushing your quiet whine of dismay at the change of position.
She brings a hand down to gently pat your padded behind, her other arm trapped between your head being used as a pillow. Your face was eye level with her breasts, and it takes only moments for searching lips begin their hunt for food. Natasha smiles softly as she peeks down at you, seeing your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you attempt to latch on to the swell of her beast. Natasha smiles softly as she uses the tip of her pinky to unlatch you, cupping her breast with her free hand and swiping the nipple over your bottom lip. Your mouth instinctively opens, and Natasha guides your head forward allowing you to get a deep and comfortable latch.
You almost immediately begin to suckle, a wet, squeaky sound filling the otherwise quiet room. It takes only moments for her milk to let down, and the small squeak of excitement that escapes you as you swallow doesn't go amiss. With a soft grin, Natasha presses a kiss to the top of your head and lays her head back down on her own pillow.
"There we go, nice and calm now."
**
If you would like to be tagged in future my future age regression imagines, just let me know 🩵
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x little!reader#age regression#soft natasha romanoff#mommy natasha romanoff#marvel#fluff#soft#nursing#black widow#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#agere little#little!reader
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Ok so... Idea for Astorian? What if the reader was some form of Flamenco dancer? Or something of the sorts, who acts like a bard, but instead of using an instrument they dance to perform magic. Not forced at all ofcorse!! I love the way you write him, it feels like you've nailed his character!
Uhm... if you guys want a part two... yeah. Let me know LMAO
TW - general horniness, reader is threatened at dagger-point
Recommended Song: Shirt - SZA
"Yeah, I just dance and then... magic."
The way Astarion first narrowed his eyes at you when you expressed that you couldn't really do anything else, he thought it was laughable.
"So you don't really fight, you just have fun while everyone else is actually doing things?"
"No, I have to actually be good at it! That's like saying you just open doors."
"Well that would be extremely rude because these hands do much more than open doors my dear."
You rolled your eyes, and he smirked. Now, this was before the two of you even slept together, let alone become an item. Over time Astarion has come to understand just how important of an asset you are to the group, but more specifically how he can't keep his eyes off of you on the battlefield. Whenever you can, the two of you find some time alone in the city to find you the most gorgeous flowy outfits, partially because they're easier to move in, but he also loves spoiling you, especially if he benefits from the view. He likes stitching little messages into the loose pieces of fabric, anything in between love notes and threats to people who have even thought about hurting you. The most recent one reads 'If the person wearing this is dead, you're next.'
Somehow, you and your rag-tag group have ended up being tasked with a group of bandits outside of Baldur's Gate. Does it have anything to do with the tadpoles or anything else important? No, of course not, but you have a hard time not helping people in need.
When you come across the group of bandits, it's apparent that they're not going to be a problem. While you're staking out their camp, Astarion comes behind you, whispering in your ear.
"If we make quick work of this, I'm sure we could find somewhere afterwards, for the two of us."
It sends a shiver up your spine, but you laugh it off, turning to look at him.
"You think you're funny, huh? Come on, we have work to do."
"Oh trust me, I know."
Maybe you should find a new way to cast magic, because it cannot be good for him to be horny mid-fight. Then again, it never seems to be a problem, so maybe it doesn't matter? Astarion certainly is an odd specimen, but you love him anyways.
"I am begging the two of you to stop flirting on the battlefield, please."
Gale pleads, wishing the two of you could keep it in your pants for once.
"Listen, once you find someone who completes your heart like Tav completes mine, you will understand. Until then, I'd stop complaining."
You nudge him and then whisper.
"Aster, you are talking to the guy who had sex with Mystra, and then became a literal bomb to try and win her approval."
"Damnit, I always forget about that! Fine, whatever. If Mystra were here, you would be just as lustful as I am, no matter the circumstances."
Gale grumbles to himself and walks off to the others, as Karlach prepares to make the first strike. She makes the signal, and you all take your positions. Astarion always insists on staying close to you, taking you with him on the flank if he has to. No one tries to argue, because he doesn't trust anyone else to keep you safe.
"Damnit, ambush!"
One of the bandits calls out, a tiefling. Gale casts grease, making their camp light up in flames from the campfire. Karlach strikes one of the bandits from behind, knocking them into the fire, effectively killing them. You don't realize though that one of the bandits had taken a trip to the forest to relieve himself, and he comes up behind you. Suddenly, you're swallowing fear with a dagger to your throat.
"Cease fire! Or the pretty one gets it."
As soon as the others look over in concern, the man's throat has been pierced, some of the blood splattering onto your face. Astarion drinks until your attacker hits the ground, the dagger falling out of a bloodless hand. You catch sight of Shadowheart, who is in close-quarters combat with a drow, and you turn to your lover.
"Come here!"
He doesn't ask questions, and he grabs your hands, spinning you out towards the fight as you send a fire bolt the drow's way. She falls quickly. Soon enough, Lae'zel finishes off the last of them, and Shadowheart casts water across the flames, making sure nothing else is burnt down. You try to catch your breath with the rest of the group, and you realize Wyll is injured, a gash across his shoulder. Normally Halsin or Shadowheart would deal with such a wound, but it's been a long day, and you're the only one with any healing magic left in you. With a few moves of your hips, you send out a healing ward, patching him up rather quickly.
"Thank you Tav."
Astarion comes to your side immediately after, almost as if he's jealous, wrapping an arm around your waist. As the others start going through the bandits' treasure, your lover wipes the blood off of your face.
"Surprised you didn't lick it off."
"I'm sure his blood was rancid, I much prefer yours."
If someone told you a year ago that someone saying they want to drink your blood was a turn-on, you would've laughed them all the way to Waterdeep. Now, you struggle to stand properly, holding your thighs together. He keeps his hand on your face, grip a little tenser than before.
"You need to be more careful when we're out there. I know these people were practically dead already, but some people won't try to trade you off like a token."
Normally you'd roll your eyes, tell him you obviously know that, but you just nod, and his thumb creeps over to your bottom lip.
"Astarion, we can't get this thing open!"
You're interrupted by a shout from Karlach, and Astarion kisses your cheek.
"I'll finish this later I suppose. Come my love, time to loot these insolent fools."
It's as if he set up the scenario perfectly, like he wanted the two of you to be interrupted. Hopefully he keeps his word.
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Well I've been tagged in a couple different wip games but honestly have just had nothing to show for them lmao but uh I've had this rattling around in my head for a while so I hope this makes up for it a bit lmao
-
Tim hikes his backpack up higher on his shoulders, weaving through the throngs of people in the airport. He got a few odd looks from the security people but even with hands clumsy with youth he was able to forge a convincing enough letter from his parents about him travelling to meet them.
It's before disaster, everything is a little relaxed and therefore it's simple, really, to get through with minimal fuss.
Tim isn't entirely sure how he ended up here, in a body too young and too healthy but he's never been one to waste an opportunity. He's perhaps lucky this was one of the weeks between boarding schools, where his mom pulled him out due to her beverage dissatisfaction with various school curriculums. It meant they were out of the country but he was still in Gotham and not being watched over by any teachers.
Gate 57B. This is where he should be. Tim scans the people sitting in the uncomfortable plastic airport chairs, all waiting to board. It's not a particularly busy flight so it's easy to spot.
Off white hoodie and baggy jeans, clothes designed specifically to not draw attention and disguise body shape. Black hair falling over turquoise eyes that are focused on the rough looking paperback in his lap. There's a duffle bag sitting against his beat up sneakers that Tim just knows the contents of without even trying.
"Jason?" Tim asks coming to stand in front of the other teenager with both hands gripping his backpack straps. He's aiming for curious. Disarming. He can't be too formal or Jason will really know something's wrong and not the way Tim wants.
Jason raises his head lazily. Like a bored teenager being called to answer a question by a teacher. But Tim can see the immediate suspicion, the slight tensing of Jason's jaw and the way his eyes scan Tim to identify threats.
Tim isn't a threat. Not yet, anyway. Not like this. He can sneak around undetected, can forge papers and send anonymous emails to Batman while hiding amongst a throng of other school kids. His mind remembers, knows all the how's, of course, but his body lacks the muscle memory to truly execute anything beyond simple defense moves.
Frustrating, honestly, but probably to his advantage right now. He still has his mind and that's the most important part.
"Do I know you, kid?" Jason asks.
"No" --not yet-- "but I need your help."
Jason raises a single eyebrow and Tim makes a bit of a show of inhaling deeply, gathering courage and whispers, "I need Robin's help."
Jason's eyes widen, all pretenses of calm evaporating with a single startled inhale.
It's a little bit of a gamble, Tim knows. But it's a calculated gamble. Telling Jason the truth was out immediately, as was telling Bruce. Waltzing up to Jason to tell him if he boards that plane he was going to die would probably only embolden him further. Telling Bruce would send him into protective parent overdrive. He was trying, Tim knows, to give Jason some space and independence.
Pleading for Jason's help, for Robin's help, it was at least going to get Jason interested. Tim being a kid was also in his favour. Even as the Red Hood, Jason always had a soft spot for kids in need. And with Jason knowing what he currently knows about his mother, that she was an emergency doctor in the Middle East, he would probably rationalize that his mom won't be upset if he shows up a little later than expected.
"Now boarding Flight AA6237, please form a line with your passport and boarding ticket ready."
That's Jason's flight. If Jason gets on that plane Tim still has backup plans but it would be so much easier if Jason just came with him.
Jason stands suddenly, hefting his duffle bag onto his shoulder with one hand and grabbing Tim's sleeve with the other.
"Alright kid, bathroom's this way," he says with maybe a little more volume than strictly necessary.
Tim beams, genuine and wide. Jason was at least going to hear him out. Jason Todd wasn't going to die, not today and not tomorrow or the next day.
This was only the first item on Tim's list but, it was a start.
And if for a moment, only a second really, Tim forgets about a terrible future, about the pain of a blade against his throat or a batarang in his chest or bruises and missing spleens and deaths and revivals, and simply relishes in the thought that Robin was now urgently leading him somewhere more private to probably interrogate him--
Well. That's just the adrenaline.
It doesn't mean anything.
#astrix writes#astrix au ideas#jaytim#Technically pre ship but you know.#I have all sorts of things planned in this au lmao#this past knows no future
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hi lizzie! i already know you by your main, i wanted to ask you some oneshots/thoughts about sex with jealous jiseok?
MY MAIN ?@?@@? was it from the obnoxious amount of likes i leave on every single work on the xdh tags LMAO thank you so much for the request <33 hope you like it
jealous jiseok thoughts 💭💫
cw: jealousy obv, oral (fem receiving), possessive tones, unprotected sex (on birth control. don't be dumb), cum play slightly
wc: 1,1k
minors dni
jiseok doesn't strike me to be the type to get jealous easily But! once he does... oh no
let's say you're out somewhere, like a party. and he's going about the looks people shoot you the usual way: smirking back at people, all smug, as if he's saying "this is Mine <3 look at me having someone you'll never have"
he did not expect your own friend to hit on you though
they were always a little touchy, and jiseok's not usually bothered (hell, he's not even in a place to be bothered. his friends are hanging off his shoulders half the time – if it doesn't bother you, it shouldn't bother him)
but tonight they were too affectionate
it started with them casually touching you while you talked, then they started playing with your fingers and fixing your hair and now jiseok's threat radar is beeping
when they lean in to talk into your ear, he draws the line. he's intervening
he gets closer and hears the "come on, leave with me. he doesn't have to know" in the air
oh no. oh nononono
he's PISSED. not only are they flirting with you in front of him, they're also blatantly asking you to cheat?
you can barely begin to indignantly refuse as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, ignores the so called friend and goes "hey, babe." before he presses a kiss that lasts a second too long to your lips
"do you want to go home? i think we'd have a better time there than here," pointedly looks at the person in front of you and pulls you closer, "plus i really want to find out what's the surprise you said you have for me back home."
there's no surprise. he's only making a point. you don't think you're even wearing matching underwear
he didn't even wait for your friend to say anything – as soon as you open your mouth to agree, he's whisking you away (he Does look back to see their face though)
when you're finally met with the fresh night air outside the building, jiseok pulls his phone out to call you both a cab and starts his angry rant
"are they out of their mind? doing that when i'm a few feet away? trying to get you to fuck them when they know damn well you're taken! we're not seeing that asshole ever again, they should feel lucky i didn't punch their teeth right off, if i was the slightest bit crazier i would've–"
"jiseokie," a hand to his cheek, "are you jealous?"
he looks up from his phone to find your playful gaze. he huffed, "of course i am! who do they think they are–" he's cut off by a searing kiss to his lips.
"it's kind of hot."
the way you were looking at him... hell he could fuck you right then and there and even hope your stupid friend catches you. unfortunately, the cab is here and the poor driver shouldn't be subjected to seeing that
the second you arrive at your apartment, he's holding your face with both his hands and kissing you downright filthily in your little entrance hall
you need to take your shoes off though... that's not a problem at all – you hear his chunky sneakers be tossed to the ground while he keeps kissing you the best he can, and you only separate as he crouches down to unlace your boots for you
you can barely appreciate the view of your boyfriend at your feet before your boots are off and he's on you again
his lips attach to your neck, sucking and nipping on the flesh while his hands sneak under your shirt
he has half a mind to bend you over the couch and fuck you stupid until your moans are engraved on the couch, but he ultimately decides on pulling you into your bedroom
before you even get to the bed, you're shirtless, jiseok's hands fumbling with the clasps of your bra while you work on his jeans
you don't get very far before your knees hit the bed and you're falling backwards
your hair fawning around your face, your cheeks flushed, your lips kiss-bitten, your bra half-off, your eyes nearly desperate... jiseok is so glad he's the only one who gets to see you like this
(and if it's up to him he'll be the only one to see you like this for the rest of time <3)
but for now he'll just push your skirt up and pull your underwear down <3
and eats you out sooooo good like legs over his shoulders his fingers spreading you
after you cum, you try to repay the favor but he grabs your hands and goes "wanna cum inside you, baby, please"
and who are you to deny him !! it's not common to have him cum in you even though you're on birth control... my guy likes the visual of his cum on your skin
and so in a second his pants and underwear are off, your legs are around his hips and he's ruining your neck again while he guides his cock to your entrance
he pushes in bit by bit, and only when he bottoms out he detaches from your neck and grins, pressing the pads of his fingers into what you assume are the hickeys he left
"you're mine", he softly says, looking into your eyes, before he starts thrusting into you
it gets really fast and rough really quick
you can't help but moan a little too loudly, the way his hips are slamming into your thighs feels divine. and when he presses his thumb to your clit...... you're seeing stars wtf
he's kissing you desperately, in a mix of panting and actually kissing you properly. your arms wind around his neck, needing him closer while you feel a familiar wave of pleasure starting to come over you
what really does it for you is his little rushed whisper of "mine, mine, mine, you're only mine right baby? mine to fuck you like this, mine to ruin, mine"
he keeps mumbling possessives and filth while he fucks you through your high
"'m yours, ji– only yours," you manage to say through the fog in your brain, and you feel his release fill your cunt
when he finally stops grinding into you, prolonging his orgasm as much as he could, he'll pull out slowly so he can watch his cum drip out of your hole
scoops a little bit of it with his fingers and smears it on your cheek, kissing you deeply afterwards
"my baby," he whispers between kisses, "only mine."
when both of you have finally caught your breaths, jiseok gets up to fetch a towel to wipe you down
when he comes back, he cleans you thoroughly - except the cum smeared on your cheek
"you forgot something." you point to your sticky cheek.
he grins devilishly, straddling you. "that's for you to wear, babe. so everyone knows you're mine."
bonus: when you're cuddling later, ready to sleep, you remember something: "... so what was the surprise i had for you back here?"
"shut up and go to sleep."
#xdinary heroes smut#xdh imagines#xdinary heroes imagine#xdh smut#xdh hard hours#xdh scenarios#xdh x reader#xdinary heroes hard hours#xdinary heroes x reader#xdinary heroes fanfic#gaon x reader#gaon smut#my fics#xdinary heroes imagines#kwak jiseok imagine#kwak jiseok smut#kwak jiseok x reader#gaon imagine
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People going to you to say they didn't like a book instead of just posting that in their own blog and blocking the rabid fans is so fucking sad to me. Is this where we're at? Instead of blocking the sea of lost teens and 20-somethings in the dark academia tag who try to use "dark academia" as a substitute for having to develop their own interests and hobbies, we're now going to whisper on anon, "I don't like this one book"? That's how scared of negative interaction people are? It's the dark academia fandom. They're morons. They don't even argue with you that The Secret History is good, they reply with your post quoted and emojis inserted inbetween every sentence and think they're big smarty smart-smarts who showed you, or they say you didn't get it. "The fandom is absolutely insane" by what metric? Speaking as someone who's been sent suicide bait, death threats, rape threats, pictures of dead animals, Holocaust pics and actual CSEM by other fandoms, if you're too afraid of someone replying, "wow lmao ur not smart like us u no get it" or spamming your original post's text with emojis, maybe you're not old enough to be on tumblr or be reading a book aimed at adults.
The fact that people are now so afraid of pushback that they won't even say they dislike something off anon is honestly really pathetic. This is like people on Reddit who say, "I wouldn't say this if I weren't deleting my account later today, but I don't like MCU movies." It's the same vibe and I have the same question: you know you can just block people if they cry about shit you say, right? I got sent a dead rat once by a Yandere Simulator fan and the police + a restraining order is basically blocking but for RL, but most people in the fandom for The Secret History aren't going to actually interact with another person. They don't even usually bother to write fic or make art for it, they just repost quotes from it with some pics they swiped off of Pinterest for it.
Those are the people who you're so afraid of that you can't even say, "I don't like a book" lest they hurt you. You're afraid of Pinterest moodboard makers who ask things like, "what religion is the most dark academia? I want to convert to that" with a straight face who think wearing a white button-down shirt and brown pants makes them the embodiment of wealth and class and quiet luxury.
As someone who's actually had interactions with crazy fans IRL - especially Star Wars fans, as they're almost all frothing at the mouth to rant about how much they hate Star Wars - I am happy to report that this is a survivable thing and not one you need to be so afraid of that you don't dare mention it for fear of backlash.
Speak freely. Block people. Move on. Their tears are embarrassing for them, not you.
--
I spent some time in anon spaces, and it felt like a nice break at the time... but I have to say, I really notice the difference now that I'm findable again. For all the shit that comes my way, a hell of a lot of people have tried to befriend me over the last few years. I wouldn't have met any of them if I hadn't been visible.
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Kay so before I get into this rant I just wanna say that I’m definitely back on my bullshit again and to take this post with a grain of salt lmao it’s late and insomnia has struck once again warnings in tags
So! I want to point out something I’ve noticed in Transformers: Prime. Specifically about Knock Out and his relationship with Megatron and Starscream. Specifically about the abuse he endured on the Nemesis.
Now, it’s common knowledge that Megatron was physically abusive towards Starscream. However, I’ve seen a few fan made things saying that he was abusive towards Knock Out. Now while we have canonical proof of this in the case of Starscream, we do not have any for Knock Out. The closest thing we get is that one scene where Megatron picks Knock Out up from underneath his chassis (much like you would pick someone up by their shirt). But that happened when dark energon was coursing through his body, changing his actions and thought patterns. There was also the time that he shot at Knock Out after he retrieved the shield, but I’m not sure if that counts. Otherwise, Megatron never laid a servo on Knock Out (as far as I can remember right now.)
Of course, physical abuse isn’t just hitting someone. It’s using your body to threaten and intimidate another being or to make them feel inferior. There are many examples of Megatron doing this to all of his troops (save the Waves and Predaking). So as for that part of being physically abusive, Megatron fits the bill!
The type of abuse that Megatron uses the most is verbal abuse. The demeaning remarks, the intentional mentions of past events that have clearly left a mental mark, insults, threats, everything. He is degrading Knock Out (because this post is mostly about Knock Out not Screamer sorry Screamer enjoyers) with his comments and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose, and that’s what makes it abuse. This is a very common type of abuse, despite the media focusing on physical abuse the most. Megatron never lays a servo on KO, but his words do enough.
Starscream, however, does both. He insults and demeans Knock Out the first episode he appears in! He obviously learned this abusive behavior from Megatron after serving under him for so long, but he ramps it up. The way Starscream gets in KO’s personal space; the way he used the spark extractor to scare him more than once; the time he hurt Knock Out after he street raced; when he hit KO after the Omega Lock got destroyed; how he threatened him in Thirst; and more that I’ve probably missed.
Point is, out of the two, Megatron has treated Knock Out better. Starscream has been more manipulative and abusive towards him than Megatron was. Megatron very rarely got physical, while Starscream didn’t hesitate to get in Knock Out’s face and use his (not by a lot) superior height to intimidate and threaten him. Megatron made snide remarks and brought up painful reminders, and he was abusive in this way, but not really physically. And I say really because he was still shit, but he didn’t physically hurt KO as much as Starscream did.
This is important for their dynamics because Knock Out kept aligning himself with Starscream when it came to betraying Megatron. Despite Megatron not being as physical as Starscream. I dunno if it was ever explained why Knock Out did this, but I do know that abusive relationships are difficult to get out of and that many stay because it is familiar and they believe that they deserve it. I don’t think KO thinks he deserves all the pain he gets from Starscream: he just doesn’t strike me as that mech. However, I think Knock Out was comfortable where he was and felt he could correctly gauge whether or not he was in enough danger that he would need to leave the safety of the Decepticon ranks. The Decepticons were in control of the energon supply, therefore the winning team and where Knock Out was safest and most comfortable. He likes luxury, so it was a no brainer for him: security, a place to keep up his finish, and plenty of energon; or no security, no way to keep his finish flawless, and barely any energon?
Anyways, all this to say that Knock Out suffered abuse at the hands of Starscream and Megatron, although Megatron’s was less severe than Starscream’s. We need to talk about it more and acknowledge that Starscream, while being an abuse victim, is also an abuser. You can be both. Just because you are/were abused doesn’t excuse you if you are also abusive. Knock Out could have continued this cycle, but he didn’t. And as far as I’m concerned, post-Predacons Rising Knock Out is living his best goddamn life on Cybertron.
thanks for coming to my Ted talk! If you have any additions, feel free to add them
#arandomaquarius#tw abuse#tw abuse mention#transformers#tfp#tfp knockout#tfp knock out#tfp starscream#tfp megatron#maccadam#transformers prime#knockscream#koss#does this count as shippy??#gonna tag it just in case#megaknock#megout#idk what the ship name is#character analysis#analysis
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