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#not that I would wanna encounter one tho

watchyourbuck · 9 months

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It may have come to my attention that my jealous!Eddie fic seems a bit violent AJSJAJ I PROMISE I’m building it up reaaaal good & then they’ll be together and all will be good

#I’m sorry sjdjdjs #I have a thing for very possessive men #not that I would wanna encounter one tho #but this is fiction it’s oki #911 fox #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 #911 tv show #evan buck buckley #buck and eddie #buck x eddie #911 abc #buddie fanfiction #buddie ship #canon buddie #buddie 911 #buddie fic

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channelinglament · 1 year

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I LOVED your SAHSR thoughts so please hear me out.

I actually doubt that HSR will understand what God means, like, they're in space and modern tech and with all the things they have encountered, I just feel that they have never understood "God" like in SAGAU. The only being that closer to a "divine being" being is aeon.

So my brainrot is, the player as aeon, who's just mindlessly flying across the Herta's Space Station that currently being invaded and taken interested in MC (who's literally stellaron) and favored them.

HSR characters are aware, that something powerful is actively watching and taking care of them. They are wary because aeons are areas they know very little about and have no control over.

But, who could resist the constant warmth and kindness of this peculiar aeon, plus, this aeon seems having no bad intention. Just some harmless mischief (scaring a cleaning service; those trash bing thingy; destroying property for some cash; etc)

Sorry if there any grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

THIS ^

THIS IS AMAZING

TW:some religious themes, yandere

I agree, they indeed would think you're an aeon.

Some sort of highest of aeons.

AND THE MISCHIEF PART IS SO TRUE

They wouldn't understand why are you so different from all the aeons, but you don't cause trouble, and seem to actually care for them, make then stronger.. You really aren't that bad. And just like that, after their observation on you, their obsession began!

Considering what destruction everything else causes, you're the safest one, so some of them might even worship you. Admire you while being obssesses with divine aeon. Y-You even saved Belobog! And Herta's station.. They really should thank you, but how? Maybe offerings will do...?

Oh, some would be obsessive about you! Everything you do is absolute perfection! How could they not love you? Would keep a journal and take pictures/draw/paint you.

Some would be protective, you always look after them and their backs, so they are doing the same for you. "Just like in some romance book!" They say.

Others would be possessive (obv). They don't wanna share you with anyone. You're too special. They're the only ones who deserve you/ They may not deserve you but no one else is, so they'll try to isolate you. They want to keep you to themselves, you're to good for everyone and anyone else anyways.

Some are Manipulative and Cunning. This being paired with what I stated above is not a great idea. Thankfully, not everyone is like that.

Others are Clingy and Delusional. Would not recommend, as, if their delusion would shatter...the result would be..messy. you'll be alright tho. But everyone else won't.

Some would definitely share with each other and work together. Use their strong traits and cover the weak ones of others (and vice versa).

Running away? Kinda impossible, you're in space..

BUT

Hear me out, if in sagau we are sometimes ACTUALLY a God with gold blood

What if we are actually an aeon?

(We can talk and speculate about it more, I'm really interested about you're thoughts hehe. Everyone is so cool ><. Imagine being in both, SAHSR and SAGAU universe, both sides loving you, worshiping you and pursuing you. Oh it won't end well, and if it will, it won't be for you-)

#sahsr x reader #sahsr #SAHSR #self aware hsr #self aware honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #hsr x reader #hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail #sagau #sahsr brainrot #kami rambles

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slut4sugu · 11 months

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— PRETTY LIL THING ! [𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜] 𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

including: aged up!characters, mutual pining, spanish, cursing, slight stalking, protective miles

genre: fluff/suggestiveness

summary: miles has seen you around the school and has taken a liking to your sweet and sarcastic nature oh..and your very pretty face

🎸: 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭-𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

You’ve heard about the prowler before and even sworn you saw him a couple rooftops away from your house one time. Though you never would’ve thought that the violent individual would be crushing on you. “So you’re telling me that you would rather go out with Jordans hoe ass than Miles Tasha?” Your friend Kali asked, eyes glancing over to the teen who was sittin in his assigned seat busy taking notes even well after class was over, before glancing back at the light skin girl who sat in front of her. “Listennn, Miles is fine but he kinda scary tho.” She explained, fixing her claw clip that held her Mirco braids before looking down at her now lit up Lock Screen, “Besides I just got a text from jordannnn.” She giggled, quickly picking up her phone before getting lost in messages. Kali rolled her eyes, before shifting in her seat to talk to you. “What about you tho girl? Last time i checked your into scary lil boys.” She teased, twirling a curled braid around her manicured finger.

You rolled your eyes at the darkskinned girl, before taking in a glance at Miles. You never really talked to him but, Tasha wasn’t wrong he was definitely fine, his braids complimented his already handsome features. He had nice eyes too.. and his forearms were- you looked up for a second admist in your thoughts only to catch his eyes staring into your brown ones. Instead of looking away you smiled softly, waving at the boy. Your heart rate accelerating when he waved back, a small small smile causing your heart to melt. Only to hear Kali going “No fucking way he waved at you.” Causing your eyes to widen as you wiped your head around to scold your friend for being so loud, though not being able to help the slight smile tugging at your lips when you heard his faint snicker. ‘ I’ve never seen miles smile before..that shit was cute as fuck-‘ you thought to yourself. “My god Kali! Didn’t I tell your ass to stop being so loud?!” You whisper shouted, before quickly gathering your books realizing the next period is about to start. “My bad, but its not every day you see that mothafucker smile.” She said defensively, you rolled your eyes in response though you agreed with her in your head.

You tapped Tasha on her shoulder, snapping her out of her lovey dovey trance. “Oh shit, thanks y/n. Bro Jordan is actually a sweetheart yall gotta hear what he just sent me, ‘was the sweetest fuckin thing.” You and Kali looked at each other with the “this bitch finna talk about ‘her man’ all 4th period” face. “Mhm I bet it was Tash.” You said dryly, before putting your supplies and phone in your tote bag standing up quickly as you looked at the clock. “Now cmon yall, I wanna get sum from the vending machine before 4th! Hurry up, cmon!”

Miles watched as he saw you pull both of your friends out the door, the white bow that was clipped to your ponytail finally became visible as you three left the classroom. “Niña bonita.” he muttered to himself with a small smirk, before packing his own things up as he got ready to leave.

✮. Now onto headcannnons!

[🕷]after that small encounter, miles would start to make note of your paths home and schedules as to not put you in any danger in future missions

[🕷] since you both would have 2nd and 4th period together, when your friends weren’t there that day or with ‘they’re mans’ you would pair up with miles for anything. Which surprised almost half the class since miles usually kept to himself and scared off any one who needed a partner to rather work by themselves.

[🕷] once you two started to pair up more small talk started, which turned into sitting with him at lunch, which then turned into letting him walk you home

[🕷] Miles would always look out for you a well, whether it be reminding you of deadlines, or scaring off any dickheads who wanted to take advantage of you. Which you thought was hot, how he scared people off without having to do anything

[🕷] after a while you started to have feelings for miles, which he knew and thought it was cute how you always denied it when he would flirt with you, though whenever you saw a girl show interest in him you would roll your eyes and yet mind your business only to have the biggest smile when he would eventually turn her down.

[🕷] Since of course miles liked you too he wanted to tell you how he felt but he thought about the danger he could put you in if you found out who he really was. Would you run away? Never talk to him again? Report him to the police? He couldn’t bear think of a day were he couldn’t see your pretty smile. So he distanced himself.

[🕷] He noticed how you would become more quiet in class, your usual bubbly star student attitude gone as you would now just sit in the back of the class your head down not saying a word. Your wardrobe growing more dull, your usual softcore style turning into just hoodies and sweats

[🕷] He started to worry about you, following you home became a normal thing. Ensuring you didnt get taken or hurt by anything or anyone.

[🕷] Then finally heart shattered, when he saw you about to go up to him before meeting his gaze and turning around. He couldn’t take it, he rather tell you who he is rather than just shut you out. So thats exactly what he did, not bothering to tell his uncle Aron.

He caught you on your way home one day, coming out of an alleyway scaring you in the process. “Shit- wait..Miles? What are you-what do you want.” You asked firmly, despite your eyes starting to water slightly at the sight of merely seeing his face. “Look, angel I- the only reason I iced you out like that is to protect you. You don’t know who I am or what I’m associated with. And the last fuckin thing i want is to put you in danger.” You looked into his eyes, seeing if he meant what he said. “What are you talking about miles? Your not dangerous, or scary or nothing like that. I don’t care about whatever those weird ass clowns call you at vision. I care about you.” You explained, walking up to him. Your eyes starting to wobble as he backed up in response, “You don’t understand-“ “Then tell me Miles!” You shouted, tears finally spilling from your waterline. Causing the brown skinned teen’s face to fall into guilt, “Tell me why I can’t be with the one person who I love so damn much-“ “I’m the prowler.”

He did it. Your gonna run away. Why aren’t you running? Get away from here-You took another step and quickly wrapped your arms round his torso. Hugging him tight as you buried your face in his chest, “I don’t care about that miles, I just said i fucking lo-“ You felt two strong forearms wrap around your lower back, “I heard you ma, ‘love you too. But you shouldn’t be-“ You squeezed him tighter, “I’m staying miles, I don’t care who you are. I’m staying with you.” He chuckled, resting his chin ontop of your head. “Fine then, but stop wearin hoodies unless its mine. You look prettier in skirts and shit.” You giggled, pulling back from the embrace to look up at him. “Fine, only if you kiss me like you’ve missed me.” Your eyes flickered from his lips back up to his dark brown eyes, with a smug smile plastered on your lips.

“your a lucky pretty lil thing..givin me a run for my fuckin money.”

#🎸.𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #atsv fluff #atsv x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #42 miles morales #miles morales #42 miles x fem!reader #atsv miles #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #atsv prowler #prowler x reader

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hwanchaesong · 13 days

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omg i got a good idea for an ateez song imagine: like i can -sam smith.

idk who but alive you feel like could match the vibes best. im kinda thinking yunho or seonghwa but they could be so different like shsbvsjsnd ily

a/n: this is SO SO VERY LATE I APOLOGIZE. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR TOO LONG. I HOPE YOU'LL STILL ENJOY IT THO. AGAIN, FORGIVE ME FOR POSTING THIS AFTER SO LONG 😭

also, let's make this a seonghwa x reader x yunho cuz y not

suggestive (kinda smutty) & angst, no fluff here. love triangle, and mentions of other sins are in here so read at your own risk. also mdni!

LIKE I CAN - SAM SMITH

Seonghwa's piercing gaze cuts through the plethora of people in the dance floor of the smoky club, straight onto your figure latched onto his nemesis.

Jeong fucking Yunho.

Out of all the other guys you can mess around with, you really had to go to the person he least expected.

Seems like you know how to play a game of terror.

He scoffs when he sees you giggle at the other man's whispered words, biting your lower lip when his hand drops on your exposed thighs, crawling higher until it had you closing your legs in a failed protest.

Oh, how he hates seeing you like this. Like you weren't chanting his name like a mantra a few days ago. Like you weren't panting for more in his sheets. Like he didn't carved your body to accommodate him and only him.

He smirked when he saw an opportunity to lock you in, watching you saunter towards the restroom, and he stood up himself, boldly following you in there.

You were minding your own business, not until someone rudely barged in, pinning you on the wall with their face dangerously close to yours.

"What the f-"

"Watch your words, babe."

You almost shrieked when the person that you don't wanna have an encounter with shows himself without any warning.

"Seonghwa?" you muttered his name, and the way you called him sent the blood rushing down in his member. He loved it whenever you sounded meek in his presence.

"Let me go. I don't have time for this shit." you said, voice firm and he was shocked at how confident you are.

Is this what that Yunho has been teaching you? After all his hard work in shaping you into his submissive baby girl. Oh, he has to remind you where you stand in here.

"I don't have time for your attitude, princess."

Seonghwa's hands went into your waist, pushing your lower half into his own while he sticks his leg in between your thighs, causing you to let out a small squeak when your clothed pussy rubbed against his jeans.

It sent you down the rabbit hole, back to zero when he's intoxicating you like this again.

How do you even escape from him?

Park Seonghwa, the guy that every girl wanted yet you had him as your trophy after a one night stand during a drunken stupor of his frat's party.

He was once a stranger that you glanced at, maybe once or twice, you couldn't remember but you do know that he made you laugh. He made you happy for a short while before giving you an entirely different kind of serotonin. One that you could acquire when the waves crash you into euphoria.

He showed you a world of situations that sailed on ships made of sands. Thus, it crumbles easily, making you seek a home made out of bricks, a shelter that winds cannot destroy.

Yet here he is, in all his glory, kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

"I thought you were better than this. Care to explain yourself princess, hm?" he mumbles against your bruised lips as he nibbles on it, his hands going over your breast to grope it rather harshly.

"I don't need to explain myself to you." you panted, clenched fists weakly punching his chest, but you both know that no matter what you do, his temptation would be difficult to resist.

You moaned when his mouth slid down to your neck, biting your sweet spot while his hand wandered onto your damp panties, circling your garment-clad clit, it had you thrashing around in his arms.

Seonghwa chuckled darkly, murmuring the exact words that had your knees buckling for him, "Oh my sweet, little princess. I think I have to remind you that no one can show you passion like I do."

---------------------------------------------------

You were quietly sitting on the bed, the television's volume nothing but white noises to you.

Then you slightly jumped on your spot when a splash of cold water dripped on your cheeks, "Ah!"

You glared at the perpetrator, fresh out of the shower.

"Yunho! You scared me!" you whined, making him chuckle at your adorable countenance.

"You are the one scaring me, actually. You're too silent. Is something bothering you?" he asks, concern lacing his voice as he sits beside you, landing a palm on your leg and tenderly massaging it, giving you a sense of solace.

Yunho really is something, you think.

With him, it feels like all your sins will be forgiven. A gentleman that could cleanse your soul, a once in a lifetime chance and you'd be a damn fool if you let him go.

But it does plague your mind, the way you let yourself be consumed by the demon when you already have yourself an honest man.

"It's nothing, it's just-" you began to speak, but you were astounded when he cut you off with a groundbreaking fact that's been eating you inside and out.

"Is it what happened in the party?"

You and that Park shithead Seonghwa, he thinks.

You looked at him, wide eyed and anxious but he only waved you off. Still, there's a mayhem of vibes that surrounds him, and you have no idea of what will happen next.

"Y/N, my love, you must take for an idiot no?" he sniggers, then halts to tilt your chin up and he leans onto you, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

He's another kind of poison, and a pattern seemed to click in your mind on what kind of men you are drawn to.

"Yunho, it's not like that." you tried defending yourself but he shushed you with a peck on the lips, his hands brushing your arms lightly until he reached your shoulders.

Goosebumps trailed on where he touched you, then he abruptly pushed you down the bed, eliciting a surprised gasp from you.

"Darling, it's okay." he reassures, positioning himself on top of you and discarding the towel around his waist. Droplets of water fell on you, soaking your shirt that he hoisted up, revealing your breasts to him, your nipples perking up at being exposed in cold air.

His warm hands explored your smooth skin while he inhaled your scent, smooching on the crook of your neck and his eyes squinted when he saw the remnants of Seonghwa's disgusting mark.

His fingers tickled your stomach, reaching for your tits and playing with your nipples, tugging on it and you felt yourself getting wet with his ministrations.

"Y-Yunho.." you mewled, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

He merely hummed before biting the same spot where Seonghwa soiled you, mumbling curses at the thought of that shitty fuck boy.

"It's okay," he repeats what he said a while ago, "because at the end of the day, you'll still come back to me. No one can show you heaven like I can."

He already has you, and in Yunho's perception, you are his. You belong to him, you belong with him.

Dwindling roads and outreached hands are presented to you, so, which one do you choose?

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rxmqnova · 5 months

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Hii! If your still taking request i might’ve have something for you, only if you would like to make it, i just love your stories so much, and click on it when i see you have posted!!! ( it’s a Wanda x daughter!newborn y/n reader😅 kinda something)

Anyway, the storie i have thought off, was maybe that Wanda was pregnant and was about to give birth, (she’s in her late 9 month of pregnancy) when the Avengers came to rescue them, she’s in a bit of distress when they came, and feels a contraction or something, (maybe this was after they first met and she used her powers on them) the others wouldn’t help her, even tho Nat got most hit, she would help her and demand the others to help or something, and she ends up in so much pain before they reach the compound ? A little chaotic with some fluff at the end?😅

Hope this make sense, just an idea😅

Merry Christmas!

Little miracle

Y/N: newborn ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Wanda, are you sure you want to do this?" Pietro sighs, worry in his eyes as he's looking at his sister and hoping she'll change her mind.

"He has to pay for what he did to our parents, Pietro" Wanda says seriously, preparing herself for meeting the Avengers once again.

The twins and the Avengers have already had one encounter and it wasn't nice at all. The original plan of the Avengers was to take down another hydra base, but the twins showed up and made some damage on them.

The team hasn't given up though. Steve is convinced that the young siblings need help, so that's why the team is headed to the abandoned place Wanda and Pietro are hiding at.

Wanda knows though and she's determined to destroy them… specially Tony Stark as the twins blame him for their parents' death. What keeps Pietro worried is that his sister is in her last month of pregnancy. He'll soon become an uncle, but another fight with the Avengers definitely isn't good for the baby.

"They're here" Wanda announces, her nervousness becoming bigger and bigger.

She won't admit it to her brother, but she is nervous and stressed that something might go wrong and her baby would get hurt. Her stubborn self just has to avenge her parents though.

As soon as the Avengers are standing in front of them, the twins are ready to attack, a red magic ball formed in both Wanda's hands… So the fight starts, Pietro using his superspeed while Wanda's using her mind-reading abilities, getting into their minds and showing them their worst fears or memories. Though suddenly something just doesn't feel right. A sudden pain makes Wanda let out a groan.

"Wanda?" Pietro looks over at his sister concerned, immediately making his way over to her.

"I'm good, it was just- ahhh" Another contraction interrupts Wanda's sentence, making her immediately put her hand under her stomach.

"Wanda" Pietro wraps his arm around his sister, not knowing what to do at all while the Avengers are either deep in their thoughts or watching the siblings confused.

"It's nothing, it's no- oh my god" Wanda groans, digging her nails into her brother's arm as another contraction hits, making him hiss in pain. "My water just broke! Do something, Pietro!" She raises her voice, nearly dropping down to her knees if Pietro wouldn't hold her.

"So, hmm… Are we fighting or not?" Tony asks, interrupting this uncomfortable moment.

"I can't do this, Pietro. I can't" Wanda whispers, panicking as her contractions are picking up on speed.

As Wanda lets out another loud groan, Natasha's up on her feet again, shaking her head to get rid off the horrible memory Wanda made her see.

"She's giving birth" Natasha say, slowly making her way over to the twins with her arms up to show them she's there to help.

"Pietro" Wanda whispers, looking at the Avenger that's walking closer, making her brother turn around and spot the redhead.

"I wanna help" Natasha assures, still keeping her arms up, so worried Pietro just nods as he has absolutely no idea what to do. "You need to breath, Wanda. Breath with me" She says softly, taking a hold of Wanda's hand and trying to get the young girl to breath properly. "Don't stand there like that! Help me get her to the jet!" She orders to her team members quickly before looking back at Wanda. "That's it, you're doing great"

The Avengers are quick to listen, Steve helping Pietro to get the young witch to the jet while Clint's already in the jet, ready to set off to the compound.

"I'm not ready, I don't think I can do it" Wanda whispers as soon as she's sitting in the jet, tears filling her eyes as she's gripping her brother's and Natasha's hands.

"Of course you can, Wanda. Everything will be okay. You'll have your baby son or daughter soon" Natasha gives the scared girl a soft smile, rubbing her knuckles with her thumb before Wanda squeezes her hand once again as another contraction comes, making both Natasha and Pietro let out groan.

"Daughter. It's a girl" Wanda whispers.

"Oh, a girl? See, you'll have your baby daughter soon. Have you thought about a name already?" Natasha continues the conversation, trying to distract Wanda from the pain.

"Mhm. Y/N… Y/N Maximoff" A small smile forms on Wanda's face, loving the name she's chosen for her baby girl.

"That's a beautiful name. Did you choose it?"

"Yeah, I- aaah. Oh my god, are we there yet?!"

———

"Few more pushes" The doctor informs, trying to encourage Wanda, thought the witch feels exhausted as ever.

Pietro being the supportive brother he is, he agreed he'd be there with Wanda the whole time. Though it looks like he overestimated himself as he got soon replaced by Natasha.

"I don't think I can do it, I can't anymore" Wanda nearly whispers, tears slowly running down her cheeks.

"Of course you can, Wanda. I know we don't really know each other, but I just know you can do it. You're such a strong girl" Natasha encourages, giving Wanda a soft smile.

"Let's push on three, okay?" The doctor says on which Wanda nods. "Good… One, two, three. Push"

Wanda squeezes her eyes shut, trying to push as much as she can while squeezing Natasha's hand for her dear life.

"You're doing so good, let's go again. One, two, three. Push" The doctor says on which Wanda repeats her actions as good as she can, Natasha trying not to hiss in pain from Wanda's tight grip over her hand.

As soon as the room fill baby cries, Wanda rests her head on the pillow, completely exhausted.

"You did it" Natasha smiles warmly, wiping away the tear that's escaped her eye. It doesn't happen often when Natasha gets emotional.

"Are you ready to see your daughter?" The doctor asks with a smile, handing Wanda the little one wrapped in a pink blanket.

"Oh hi" Wanda smiles, tears forming in her eyes once again, Natasha smiling at the sight. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart. I'm your mommy" The brunette whispers, tears running down her cheeks while she's rubbing her daughter's small knuckles with her finger. "I love you so much, Y/N/N. Mommy will always protect you, I promise"

----------------------

I've never written about giving birth, so hopefully it's not too bad xd

I'm so glad that you enjoy my stories!! This makes me so happy!! <;33

Thank you for reading and liking! <;33

Merry Christmas!!! <;33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #natasha romanoff #black widow #avengers #the avengers #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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zujime · 3 months

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─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep.

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

#reader insert #arcane #arcane vi #arcane violet #arcane imagines #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi imagine #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #fluff #arcane fluff #vi fluff #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n

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thewinchestah · 3 months

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Strawberry Fields (sonhei com campos de morango) - Alastor X Reader fic

Summary: On a dreadful night, Alastor goes to collect one of his contracts. Something goes terribly wrong. He finds you.

Warnings: fem!reader, Human!reader, smut, 18+, period sex, overstimulation, light cannibalism, blood, A LOT OF BLOOD, general creeppiness, Alastor is in hell for a reason, oral sex, alastor kind of hunts reader down, possessive!Alastor

A/N: Soooo!! This was a long time coming but here it is. This idea has been on my mind for a long time now and I wanted to test the waters before i commit to a long fic. I hope you guys like it, i'm kinda on the fence about it. I'm working on the requests and they should be out soon I PROMISEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Also I got a little carried away, i'm sorry. Hope you guys enjoy it. It's always a pleasure to write for you. The visuals and the title for this fic are heavily inspire by this music video. Not the lyrics tho, i always felt like the singer did a poor job with this concept and i wanted to do it justice.

Taglist: @markster666@jyoongim@stygianoir @pepperycookie@fraspent @aether-th3-enby @lady-valtieri @karolinda007-blog @jesi-pinkman@polytheatrix If the tags aren’t working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.

You curse when another sharp stone cuts your feet.

You regret it a second later when you hear the ominous sounds that reverberate through the trees. They are closing in on you.

You don’t know how you got here, you just know now you are running for your life inside these woods now. The only guiding light, a full moon that looks weirdly otherworldly.

Adrenaline burns inside your bloodstream, the forest seems devoid of any living thing. It’s only you and whoever is chasing you. You wish you could hear gunshots, you wish you could hear screams. Anything besides the occasional twig snap or wind caressing the pine trees’ leaves. The eerie silence is deafening, and worse: the eerie silence makes you even more aware of your situation.

It’s incredible how everything gets clearer when you’re about to die.

Maybe you shouldn’t have traveled alone, maybe you shouldn’t have decided to go somewhere where the closest thing to civilization is the village’s old-yet-charming dinner.

You just wanted a little bit of quiet, a place that made introspection inviting. Next time you should go for a beach vacation.

Next time? why does next time sound so… far away? Somehow your feet carry you away from the forest’s well marked path and deeper into the thick vegetation, hiding behind a large tree. You gained a few minutes on them by taking a detour.

Breathe. Remember to breathe.

Right, your mind remembers. You’re being hunted down like prey in the creepy horror film woods, time to focus on surviving again. You can overthink later.

You assess your options: you can keep going into the woods, a deadly game of hide and seek. Zig-zag through the trees, keep them guessing. There’s a good chance you will find wildlife as you go deeper. This could be a problem, it’s too dark to make anything out, an encounter could cause enough of a distraction, you could take advantage of that. Or you could end up mauled. Plus, you are absolutely positive there are bear traps somewhere. If you're gonna die, make your death less dumb. Quite an embarrassing topic of discussion in the afterlife, saying that you died like horror film pretty girls making dumb decisions that you clearly would never make in a situation like that. You just know they are incredible hunters, you need to take them out of their element, expose them.

So yeah, going deeper isn't an option.

Something catches your eye, there’s a big opening in the thick vegetation, there’s a clearing ahead and… sparks? You definitely see a light. You were told by the locals how the population is scattered across acres and acres of practically untouched wilderness, there’s also the park’s rangers stationed on specific places that grant them a visual advantage in case of emergencies. A big clearing is perfect for that. Maybe, just maybe there’s hope.

Of course bolting there will make you terribly exposed, they will know your position all the time, and they can still hunt you hidden by the edge of the trail. Besides there’s no guarantee of what awaits you when you reach the promised land, they could have a partner waiting, there could be nothing at all there. Taking this risk for nothing sounds worse than being lured into a trap. You just have this gut feeling that’s where you should go. Your brain starts to pick the plan apart, this doesn’t sound good. Hesitation can be fatal. But you are all adrenaline and primal flight intistic -

The decision was made for you, you start running again. Taking advantage of the final stretch of cover you still have until you hit the trail again, you take several deep breaths. Oxygen needs to keep coming, so you can make decisions, so your limbs can respond quickly. Your peripheral catches something that’s also running. It’s a stag.

He’s also prey. He’s an omen. He’s your cue.

You leap across some fallen branches and your scratched feet land on the main trial. As soon as you complete your first step you hear movement and hurried voices. They are onto you. “What do we say to the good of death? Not today” you give yourself a pep-talk as you keep running. Maybe thinking this is all fiction will help you survive this, detach yourself from the situation, don’t think about the consequences, just act.

And like that, you don’t stop running. You sing your abcs to focus and stop spiraling. Evolution is truly amazing, the cuts you suffered don’t hurt anymore, precious shooting adrenaline, adrenaline that makes you tunnel vision towards your objective. By now you know where to step, when to dodge, when to slow down and when to go faster. Millennia of sheer force of survival catching up to you.

breathe, remember to breathe.

You inhale a good chunk of oxygen and look ahead. There’s a man on the edge of the tree line and a few meters left. Your mind wants to sing in victory, but you refrain from that, you know better than that it only ends when it’s over-

You’re positively sprinting towards the man right now, like he is your assured salvation. Something inside you screams louder and louder guiding you to him and you follow the sound.

You hear gunshots.

So noooooow they bring out the guns? That’s low.

But that’s a good thing right? If they are shooting they are getting out of time. A single gunshot can take you down and they can smoothly and swiftly carry you away, like it’s a normal hunt. No one will question shooting something they didn’t see getting shot so deep into these woods. But shooting a girl in front of a witness? that’s for amateurs right? So, the man is not a partner you decide.

remember to breathe, you are not breathing.

You are so close now, you see an outstretched hand coming your way only a few more steps

breathe.

You don’t, instead you leap towards your loosely established finish line and take the hand an-

Dirt greets your face as you fall face first into the trail, and you crawl like a zombie that just rose from its grave. You have a collection of new cuts and scrapes now, it hurts and you can’t bite your lip to suppress the pain. Still, you intertwine your fingers with his, your other arm aggressively seeking for leverage, clinging to your flesh lifeline. You blur out a bunch of incoherent things as he effortlessly lifts you up in one swift motion.

“Get behind me, my dear.” he asks. He has a weird voice almost like it leaves something in the air that caresses your skin, an inviting voice nonetheless. You hide yourself inside the crook of his arm, giving you the ability to witness just a little bit of the action there’s about to happen. You never let go of his hand. Your prince charming feels awfully cold.

Alastor waits, rather impatiently, for his clients to arrive. Making a deal with a human is his ticket topside and Hell is still terribly boring, even with the hotel. The Radio Demon was no stranger to contracts with humans, they were a win-win situation. Those who seek him always have a taste for the wicked and deranged, so it’s easy to figure out what they want and twist it for his own benefit. When they inevitably die, be it death by old age or death by occupational hazard, Alastor gets useful men from the moment they manifest in Hell. They always know exactly where they are and why, they are not confused sinners, petty crime or moral crime sinners. They are, most times, skilled killers who take no trouble doing Alastor’s bidding. An accomplished killer in life makes an even better prolific hellish soldier, someone who will continue indulging in their desires without the constraints of society, but eternally tied down by Alastor’s constraints. With the right incentive, they can rise in the ranks and become treasured resources for the overlord. Plus, the camaraderie isn’t all bad. Takes one to know one, they say.

However, humans these days are getting careless, sloppy. This entire display is proof of that, they should be over to kill and cover their tracks alone. The basics, for hell’s sake.

Alastor only takes care of the details. Tampering with some evidence here, getting a victim on the right place at the right time there. The occasional final encouragement to give into the darkness and finally kill, some advice. A self respecting killer should be able to kill and get away with it without the demon’s aid. He’s there for consulting and making sure there are no loose ends.

But never this. Having to intervene in the middle of a kill because his client made a very very big mess that screams “you’re getting caught!” is below him. Amateurs are not worth Alastor's time.

The two men approach the tree line, clearly worked up from the hunt and shocked to see him there. If Alastor is withholding a victim, something went very, very wrong.

“Good night my good fellows!” the greeting leaves his lips in an overly-chirpy tone. Is that static in his voice? Radio static? Is that what’s leaving goosebumps on your skin? The stress and the adrenaline are making you imagine things. You took the “pretend this is all a fantasy and you the main character” too seriously. Because now you are hiding behind Darth Vader’s skirts. That’s impossible, right? right?

“Great.” you can see the sarcasm dripping from one of your aggressors. “You’re here to watch?” the question asked all passive aggressive with an edgy tone. That’s definitely a teenager. What the fuck? you were being chased by a high school kid? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how can a teen pull this off? And you almost died? What? Your mind starts spirling.

Alastor ignores the son, is the father he cares about. They’ve known each other for years now, and he’s underperforming to say the least. He waits for the father to address him, it’s his mess after all. The older man gives his son a stern look and finally breaks the silence.

“Goodnight. We didn’t expect to see you here tonight, to be honest.’”

The second voice is much older. That doesn’t quiet your thoughts at all. Is this a cult initiation thing? Hunting girls down like they are prey? WHY DID YOU TRAVEL TO THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IN THE FIRST PLACE??? OF COURSE THERE WOULD BE CULTS HERE, DUUUUH. IF I WAS IN A CULT THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECT PLACE TO HIDE. There are so many voices screaming inside your head now, you are shivering. With anger, anticipation, fear. Your inner monologue overrides your brain and you are not sure you can cope with everything that’s going on. The voices, all the voices, sound wrong. They land weirdly inside your ear and you need to think hard to understand the words, you know how crucial every piece of information is. They could make all the difference when you talk to the police. They could help a conviction when you are on the stand, giving your official statement. You are surviving this. You are going to watch these fuckers get life in prision or worse. You are surviving this right? There’s so much you haven’t thought through. Whose hand are you holding again?

“Oh please. Don’t act all coy now, it doesn’t suit you old friend” Alastor is starting to cross the line from nuisance to anger. He twirls his microphone in annoyance, and makes sure to sink it deep into the moist ground. “Let me remind you about the terms of our agreement. For each 2 kills you make, one soul is mine to take. Or am I wrong?”

“No. You aren’t”. The father answers through gritted teeth. “But I never thought you would want to collec-” Alastor tilts his head, his grin widens and he snaps “Never thought what? That I would claim what I am owed at my leisure? That I would stop waiting patiently for you, acting at your whim? You earned the privilege of killing unbothered by my vigilance. Because you always delivered your side of the bargain with excellence. I can revoke said privilege whenever I want. Especially after this pitiful performance.” The seasoned killer seems to slightly cower at Alastor’s words. Good. He always regarded the demon without fear or trepidation. His work was meticulous, spotless, basically perfect. And that gave him the justifiable confidence for going toe to toe with the Radio Demon during conversations, a bargaining chip during dealings of his contracts. Few could say that.

You feel nauseous. Reality is crashing down at you hard and fast. How many people have these people killed? They are trading lives like it is the stock market, and yet you can’t let go of your prince charming’s hand. There’s no rational thought to justify it, actually rational thought is also being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb tonight, because despite the gigantic red flags you are not letting go of this man’s hands. Everything about him screams danger, everything about him screams your safety. He’s the type of paradoxical that messes with your primal senses, that makes a moth go to the lights that will kill it.

From the crook of his arm you finally gather the courage to open your eyes. You try to look up to your prince charming, but his face is concealed by the shadows of the night. Actually, everything of importance seems to be conveniently hidden from you. Your aggressor’s faces look distorted, recognizable traits melting together like watercolor painted by 100 shades of darkness, voices and words fuse together creating only cacophony. You hear things, you see things, but you can’t discern them. The three men keep going back and forth, but their conversation seems to dissipate into the air. Everything about this feels like a dream.

Of course you can’t register anything of importance. Alastor makes sure of it. You are a potential victim after all. A liability, capable of making a positive identification. It’s wishful thinking that someone would take your account of what’s happening on this dreadful night seriously.

Alastor has no shame in using the prejudices of your world to his advantage. If you were to tell, everyone would make the assumption that you are “just another hysterical woman, thinking too much about folktales”. You had too much to drink, partied too hard. Hallucinogens are a common party drug and this is the result of a bad trip. At worst, “someone tried to spike your drink, but nothing happened. You should be thankful, not getting in the way of important police work”. Alastor also knows that injustice is no real crime, and yet he decided to spare you. It doesn’t feel fair for you to perish in such crude ways, a practice run for a post pubescent, obnoxious serial killer in training. A precious thing like you should be honored, savored. In the odd chance that your voice was heard, the Radio Demon guarantees that no reliable information will come out of your mouth. His clients might be lacking, but in the dealmaking business your words are your worth and Alastor has a silvertongue. Surely that pretty mouth of yours won’t be a problem.

“I’m afraid I have to insist, my good friend. The pair of you caused enough damage already with these sloppy, impetuous spree killings. Your law enforcement is already on your scent, tracking the pattern and by the looks of it tonight’s mess will send quite a message. A message that I will have to make sure is delivered faultlessly. I will uphold my hand of the bargain, you will uphold yours. The girl will be spared. There’s plenty of prey out there, plus her death would only act as an aggravation, she’s not your type, and trust me, they will know you made a mistake, you will be exposed.” The Radio Demon’s patience is wearing thin. He shouldn’t have to justify his actions to humans. There’s no compromise to be found here, they went to him and the deal is always on his terms. You squeeze his hand really tight during the discussion of your scheduled demise, like a reminder that you are still there. Still afraid.

How cute. Alastor thinks. Your adrenaline is starting to wear off, dissipating into the cool forest breeze and opening space for a strong sense of false security, equally as inebriating. The smell of your sweet fear laced blood is unmistakable, assaulting your savior’s nostrils. Your knees buckle, and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet, clinging to prince charming’s hand for dear life. “Breathe darling, you are forgetting to breathe” He turns quickly towards you, his voice impossibly soft, shooting. You try to look up at charming’s face again, the only new discovery made is that he's awfully tall, and his face is still hidden by opaque darkness. You work really hard on breathing normally again, but you want to keep looking. Their faces are a monstrous distortion, vacant eyes that seem to cry blood. Your entire body tingles, you feel weird goosebumps. It takes all of your willpower to keep standing. You won’t lay yourself at their feat, defeated, like the corpse they would drag from these woods. But you just can’t keep looking, so you shut your eyes and grip the hand that has become your lifeline even tighter.

“You won’t even truly use the bitch, she’s no use for you” The entitled brat opens his mouth again. That’s the trigger.

The Radio Demon grows as tall as the native pine trees, his antlers furiously expanding and casting a shadow so dark over the two serial killers that the moon is completely obstructed. The only source of light in the forest now is the burning red dials of his eyes. The father sees the burning inferno of Alastor’s eyes and for the first time he is speechless. Maybe the realization of where destiny is sending him finally happens. The son sees raw, untamed power for the first time in his life and cowers like a scared puppy. Pathetic.

“Now let’s get something clear here. I’m only tolerating your insolence because of my decade long relationship with your father.” You shut your eyes harder, your eyelids a shield from whatever is about to happen. Foreboding making the forest air too thick for you to breathe. You finally break down and start crying, too fucking much. Alastor’s face meets the son on eye level. His teeth are bared, static picks up around the group to the point both men are struggling to breathe. A clawed hand traps the father’s face, a trail of blood dripping from the older serial killer’s cheek.“He’s as close to a professional as our kind gets. Shame the same thing can’t be said about you. This juvenile outburst does not make you more feared nor does it assert your dominance. It displays how weak you are, inept to succeed on this because you can’t keep your entitled demeanor in check. You are not owed anything in this lifestyle, if you want something you need to prove you’re worthy of it by taking it yourself. Whining like a petulant child won’t get you anywhere” You feel dizzy, the earth beneath your feet quakes, whoever, whatever is holding your hand is sheeting with rage so consuming the ground shakes with the intensity of their emotions.

Alastor’s attention is now focused on the father, the red inferno from his eyes making the man feel genuine fear for the first time in his long, violence-filled life. “Teach your spawn some manners and proper work, otherwise get him out of my sight. This was a courtesy. Fulfillment failings lead to contract termination, and contract termination means a lot of details appearing. You do not wish to make an enemy of me” Alastor delivers his last threat with a snarl. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the intensity of his words, you feel a powerful rush of wind, leaves ruffling, hurried steps and suddenly the world is at a standstill. The forest seems devoid of life excluding you, your mysterious prince charming and your two aggressors. All of your senses are assaulted with an overwhelming feeling of wrongness… darkness. Darkness that feels like the most luxurious silky dress on your skin, the most intense look of a passionate lover. It feels dangerously alluring and your will power is being gladly tempted by it.

You feel like you’ve been holding your breath for hours, the rollercoaster of adrenaline inducing hyperventilation and conscious calming breaths making your brain enter some sort of high. Is that what people felt after a battle in ancient times? Is that what It means to stare death in the face and come out victorious? You don’t understand what you are feeling, but when oxygen finally feels normal again, tall, dark and handsome is escorting you deeper into the woods and you don’t even care.

You’ve just slayed the dragon with your bare hands. You don’t care. You just want to bask on the feeling. To fucking feel. To remind yourself that you are still alive.

Alastor is drunk on something that he rarely indulges in. Desire. Pure, raw carnality that makes him antagonize one of his greatests clients. Someone Alastor awaited his inevitable death with anxiety and hopefulness, someone he could actually call more than a partner in crime when in hell. A friend. A friendship born from blood and gore but bathed in kinship and inexplicable understanding of one’s dark nature. And the Radio Demon almost killed the man and his useless spawn and fucked everything up because when he saw your running for your life something ignited inside him. When you squeezed his hand so tightly, with such abandon and trust, like he was an Angel sent from heaven to protect you when reality was the most wicked antonym.

Alastor spared you because you were prey. Beautiful, delicious prey that defied your destiny by accepting the nature of your condition. You didn’t dare to fight, you didn’t dare to think you could stand a chance against your hunters. You just fled. You fled and was perfectly lured into another trap, you doubled the bet when you held his hand and didn’t let go, serving all of your vulnerability on a silver platter to someone you deep down knew was way worse than any serial killer.

Prey, that will chew its own leg to get out of a trap. Prey, that will offer herself to the most ungodly creature around if it means she can survive a few more moments, just to spite those who started the chase. Prey, that now holds his hand completely carefree and all giggles while she is led to a much more final and insidious type of slaughter. Prey that he was now going to claim.

Your wounded feet start to land on soft squishy things, a familiar scent invades your nostris. From the scent of sweat, blood and gore now to the scent of juicy, plump strawberries.

“Hey, are we on a strawberry field?” it’s the first time you addressed him directly. You trail behind him, hurried steps crushing the strawberries on your way. You look up and for the first time you can see open skies. “You don’t need to worry my dear, you are perfectly safe now”

Are you?

You decide that he doesn’t sound like Darth Vader anymore, his voice is impossibly staticy, it prickles your skin and it feels like goosebumps that accompany butterflies on your stomach. He sounds like someone you would meet at a ball and have a cinderella moment with. The blanket of stars that illuminates the clearing you ferociously fought for grants you a better vision of his figure: scarlet red, snug tailcoat, perfectly tailored. Long legs and trousers that fit like skinny jeans. He dresses like the lead singer from a classic emo band. You can’t say you are complaining, you always loved the idea of a tall dark and handsome prince charming.

“So, you have some weird friends don’t you?” you ask him. You can hear him chuckle, it is a very pleasant sound. Suddenly the twirls you, a fucking disney princess’ musical number twirl, and you find yourself in front of very big bed.

With impeccable white sheets, you mind adds. Must be really hard to maintain white sheets in the middle of a strawberry field. Wait, what is a king size bed doing in the middle of th-

“Ah, I don’t really do friends, more like reluctant colleagues” bootleg brandon urie is the melancholic type, then.

Alastor finally takes a good look at you when you take your seat on the bed with a contented sigh. You look marvelous. Your hair is messy and wild, your cheeks and neck flushed red from the effort. Your eyes big and pliant, waiting for his answers. You look so human, so deliciously alive. He desperately wants to be the cause of your disarray, to make the blood rush to your face under his materfully wicked touch. To feel your pulse fluttering when he touches your neck.

You still can’t see all of him though. There’s stars, a big full moon whose light outstretches far, bathing the clearing in ethereal silver. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, your savior is always in the shadows.

By now you know he is purposefully hiding his identity from you, but you always liked a game. Plus you don’t really have anything to lose now, you just want to forget everything that happened to you tonight, you just want to inebriate yourself, and charming really looks like someone who could show you a good time.

Either that or you are having a psychotic break after enduring life threatening stress.

Anyway, you decide to bite. One possible psychotic murder, funny, charming murderer is better than two lukewarm ones.

“Do you always take random women to a creepy bed with impeccable white sheets in the middle of the woods or am I just special?” not a chuckle now, a laugh. A beautiful, full laugh. The residual static on your skin making you shiver.

Alastor completely understands what you are trying to do, and it’s truly hilarious. Your petulance and sarcasm towards him means to an end. You’re so precious, talking to him like this, thinking you could take him at his own game. What a beauty! Seeing you think you are succeeding in this only for him to take that conviction away from you at the last minute is going to be so entertaining. He wants you to dig your own grave, lay yourself at his feet.

He doesn’t indulge you, instead he takes a thick, silky strand of your hair and inhales deeply. You smell like sweet innocence and summer. It makes Alastor euphoric.

His head tilts down as he smells your hair. You don’t that’s creepy, it looks creepy, it sounds creepy, but you feel reverence in his action.

And then out of the shadows comes a revelation, you see his horns. You suspected his unhumanity, but the confirmation of it knocks the wind out of you. Your eyes widen, you simply cannot make sense of this night, everything feels too surreal and raw reality at the same time, it’s giving you whiplash.

“Are you the devil?” you ask him without much consideration of the weight of this question. You do your best to keep your voice from failing but it’s impossible. You never dropped his hand, in fact you feel like you are permanently attached to him, like a marble statue. Your fingers open and interlock again and again, reflecting your anxiety, but you don’t let go.

You can’t see it, but Alastor’s grin is as big as a cheshire cat’s.

“Do you seek the devil?” answering a question with a question. Smoke and mirrors. Alastor waits for you to answer, but you don’t. You don’t know what to answer, you try to contemplate if enganding further could mean eternal damnation, or if you are already damned. Is he going to make you an offer you can’t refuse? an offer you aren’t allowed to refuse? Alastor will blame it on lack of patience, but the fact is he can’t wait anymore to taste you, there’s a burning desire inside him, that only gets more and more ferocious as he tastes the inebriating smell of your fear blessing the air he breathes again.

He removes your interlocking fingers, his hand quickly trapping your tiny wrist inside. You hear heavy breathing.

“Or do you seek a taste of the forbidden fruit?” The demon licks the long cut across our open palm. His tongue is sensual and cold, the sensation of it slowly dragging across your wounded skin a soothing balm. You moan, he growls. “Forbidden fruit it is.” he announces, delivered like a sentence.

You are completely free of his touch for the first time since it all began, but it feels like you just suffered an enormous loss. You feel taunted, like someone just dangled a shiny new thing in front of you and took it away. It’s like your entire being has become tunnel vision and you need to get to the bottom of this, whatever this is. Consequences be damned.

You watch closely as your paranormal paramour moves towards the bed, he is completely concealed by the darkness. Darkness deep and palpable, he morphs within it. The visuals are beautiful, it looks like one of the art’s greatest masters is painting a watercolor in front of you. Darkness from absence of light floating and mixing with otherworldly opaque darkness, flowing like a river. You wonder if it would run through your fingers like water if you touch it.

Antlers. He has antlers, not horns.

The not-devil settles himself behind you, back against the headboard. He quickly maneuvers you onto his lap, grabbing you by the waist. You squeal in surprise as more of him touches you, now pressed flush against his hard chest you feel something you shouldn’t be feeling, nonetheless resistance is futile, you spread your legs giving him more access. He has barely touched you, and yet you are completely surrendered to him.

Alastor wasn’t joking when he established that a woman like you should be savored, slowly consumed so he can extract everything you have to offer. He knows your mind is exhausting itself trying to discern what is happening, how the body and the spirit get more susceptible to succumb to desire after surviving imminent death, and he intends to take full advantage of it. Alastor wants to see you writhe under his touch, pain and pleasure. He wants to torment you and make you pay for existing near him, for making him careless. For making him indulge in carnality and arousal. But mainly, he wants to punish you, because you battled so hard for your survival against them. When you should fear him.

The Radio Demon touches your neck, exactly where your pulse is, where he can feel your beating heart, full of life pulsing. Life that taunts him and seduces him. The thump thump thump of your heart beneath his fingers like a moth going directly to the light that will kill it. He holds your entire life, your entire existence under his clawed finger, it makes him delirious.

You feel a sharp sting on your neck, fangs that break your skin and spill your blood, red and ready for his taking. Holding your breath while he sucks the life out of you, your head swims, and you drown on the feelings. You feel pleasure, forbidden pleasure from having something hurting and feasting on you.

“If you are not the devil, are you a vampire?” It might be a dumb question, but it’s the logical one. Sometimes the obvious needs to be said. He laughs again, a full deep laugh,mockery dripping from it.

“Why? If I were a vampire would it make you feel better about spilling your blood for me?” he dodges the question again. Bait and switch. He’s feeding on you and you are enjoying it.. You don’t know what he is, you don’t know his name. It only spurs the burning desire in the pit on your stomach.

Alastor licks the entire length of your neck, his other hand applying light pressure on your pulse point. He bites down on you again, harder, going deeper. You roll your eyes and moan obscenely as he sucks on it. This is going to leave a mark for sure, but you don’t care, because whatever he’s doing to you feels delirious, it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

Your blood is dripping from Alastor’s lips, he licks it not wanting to waste a drop. He can taste your eagerness, your fear, your essence, your soul. The red liquid is solid proof of how alive and defenseless you are, completely at his mercy. You keep moaning and melting on his lap at his ministrations, a finger starts tracing your arm, feather light touch that leaves you shivering in anticipation.

He’s gently scratching, teasingly. It’s a claw, you realize. Another part of his unhumanity making you scared and deliciously trembling in anticipation. It’s Alastor’s turn to moan now, his clawed finger comes to torment your clothed nipple, he makes sure to do it tantalizing slow to give you just a taste of what it could be. He wants to hear you ask for it, beg even.

“I’m afraid I’m way worse than the Devil, little doe” his low, threatening tone makes you close your legs together and rub, desperately seeking friction, some relief.

“Re–really? You don’t sound that bad” A lie. You just want to say something back.

Your paramour laughs again, he takes your hand in his and starts making his way downwards.

“How precious are you, lying like that to me” He stops both of your hands on your lower belly, threatening to cross the point of no return. You squeal and struggle on a desperate attempt to raise your hips and get something more, anything.

Delighted in seeing you writhe this badly when he has not even properly touched you, Alastor squeezes your neck tighter, inflicting just enough pain and pressure to make you sing. The Radio Demon finally makes the decision and drops any pretense of moderation, hastily dropping the band of your panties and guiding your joined hands to your slit. “I can taste the fear in your blood, how your sense of pleasure has been forever skewed”.

The two digits tease your entrance that is coated with arousal and something more, his touch is masterful, like he knows the ways of the human body the same way a talented musician knows their way around an instrument. He makes you moan, he makes you sing with only the possibility of his actions. The idea of being taken by something unholy.

At last, Alastor finally enters your tight wet pussy, his finger guides yours as he undoes you in ways that should not be allowed. He pumps your cunt mercilessly, gone are the careful, calculated touches, he wants to make you crash and burn as quick as possible, he wants to make you understand that you crossed the most important line of your life. There’s no going back now, your pretty mortal body is forever tainted by unholiness, by his darkness.

“You spread yourself like this for me, a wanton little thing while I choke and feast on your blood”. Alastor curls the fingers inside you repeatedly making you move your hips in the maniac rhythm he has set. You ride your joined digits, moaning like a whore while your lover’s grip on your throat tightens and releases making your brain short circuits in pure unknown carnal feeling. “You are not the demure, feisty thing like you desperately tried to prove earlier. It only takes the slight touch of something forbidden to make you moan like a common whore” he adds another one of his huge fingers and starts scissoring inside you, the combination of two of his digits and your little one only adds insult to injury. You will never be able to replicate these ministrations, the feeling of being this full and stretched, you had a taste of the forbidden fruit, you are high on it and you will never get another hit on your own.

Alastor alternates between choking you and curling the fingers inside you, your lightheadedness combined with the assaulting pleasure making you feel feverishly delirious. Your body is hot from desire and adrenaline combined, a starking contrast to your mysterious lover’s touch, ice cold. The two of you distinct seasons, distinct stages of existence mixing together, life and death tethering each other, blurring the lines of worlds that shouldn’t exist together.

Orgasm building quickly, you grip the white sheets tighter and tighter and tighter but your fingers feel wet, you look down to see a mess of redness leaking from your core.

Oh fuck, you are on your period. You completely forgot about it. In normal circumstances you would feel mortified about being fingered like this while bleeding, but right now it makes things even more erotic, you’ve learned that your lover may not be a vampire, but he definitely has a thing for blood and something inside you ignites at the idea of letting him feast on your blood, eat you out while you bleed for him.

Your pussy flutters with the fantasy of that tongue working your pussy and with a particularly harsh pinch on your clit you are off. Waves of pleasure spread across your entire body like wildfire, he chokes you merciless making the urge to scream to the universe how fucking good you feel impossible. You want to scream his name, but you don’t know who he is, what he is. You just want more.

While you ride the waves of your orgasm unbothered Alastor takes the opportunity to take fingers from your pussy to his mouth, red with blood and slick with arousal, he moans audibly as he tastes you, the most intimate parts of you. Only a little bit of it inebriates him, this is better than 70% of what he does in Hell. This feels better than closing a new deal, watching the princess of Hell fail miserably at rehabilitating sinners. You taste so sweet, so alive and afraid. He’s hard with the conviction of how scared you are, of how he has permanently tainted something so innocent and pure. How you stupidly threw yourself to his mercy. Perishing at the hand of those serial killers is more merciful than him. And now you will know.

You must have babbled something while you came, about wanting to scream his name and not knowing it, because now you find yourself completely lying down, the bed feels soft like a cloud and you are sprawled like an angel, and he finally reveals something about him of his own volition.

“The name is Alastor, my dear. It has definitely been a pleasure meeting you.” Alastor, now you know, settles himself between your thighs and the pooling redness from your core. You feel him running his claws across the impossibly soft flesh of your inner thighs, you cover your face with your arm.

“Alastor I’ve never… No one has ever…” you trail off, you shouldn’t be embarrassed at this point, but nevertheless you feel your cheeks burning. Is he really going to eat your bloody pussy? fuck.

Alastor’s name on your lips sounds so soft, so pure. He wants to ruin it. He wants to destroy the careful constructed cognitive dissonance that makes you feel safe and comfortable around him. He wants you to be completely afraid and craving being scared of him, disrupting your sense of pleasure so he can ruin you completely, getting you hooked on him and delirious for more, willing to do anything for another taste of the forbidden fruit.

So, he makes you look.

“Look at me” you don’t want to. You feel a lot of things right now, but mainly you feel as if you really take a look at your dark lover tragedy is going to happen. Eros and psyche all over again, but bloodier.

He claws your thighs, you hiss at the delicious pain, but still disobey him.

“Look. At. Me” he snarls, definitely a threat. You feel yourself getting wetter.

Alastor slaps your ass, hard. He’s losing patience, his temper turning quick at the realization that you not knowing who he is isn’t a perfect plan.

You moan from the pain, from the sting. It feels wickedly erotic. You almost want him to hit you again. Since when pain felt so fucking good?

So you do, you finally look at him.

Red. The first thing that your brain fixates on is how much red there is. Scarlet red hair, red blood running down your core and staining the white sheets. Red claws that pierce your skin.

Red eyes. Burning red eyes that entrap you. It’s like you can see the blazing fire that tortures the damned inside those eyes.

If this is why people fall from grace, you totally understand the appeal now.

The second thing, the thing that makes you transfixed at the sight of him is how wrong he looks. His antlers are beautiful, growing from his scarlet hair beautifully adorning ears that look extremely soft, non-threatening, like a crown. His eyes are big and sharp, close together

while he stares at your soul, eyes of a predator in the middle of softness of prey. His grin is completely predatory, dangerous, sharp teeth that hurt and maul, but at the same time bite you just the right way to make you moan in raw carnality. The skin is pale, not in a michael-jackson-thriller-way but in an ethereal way. His voice is static that seems to tickle your skin, sometimes more than others. He’s paradoxical, everything you should be afraid of and the comfort you should seek at the same time. A force you shouldn’t meddle with. Primal and raw.

You may not know what exactly he is, but one thing is certain: he’s dangerously alluring, and you completely fell into his trap. But it hardly matters anymore, because he is about to drink blood from your pussy with that marvelous silvertongue of his.

“Fucking beautiful” you blur out, not realising he’s going to hear you.

One of Alastor’s eyebrows shoots up. He’s not regarded as beautiful often. Alluring, maybe.

He wants to make you pay for all the soft ideas you have about him.

You soon learn how hard it is to hold the gaze of your lover’s eyes, his burning red irises entrap you. It's impossible to look away but overwhelming to stare into.

“If all the mortal men you’ve been with are weak and pathetic enough to decline the dark gift of your bleeding cunt, then I’m honored to be your first” and without much more warning you feel a delicious cold tongue licking your entrance and you are off

Alastor isn’t eating you out, he’s feasting on you like you are his last chance of salvation. His face is completely buried deep in between your legs as his tongue assaults you at a merciless pace. He makes sure not to waste a drop of anything your gushing pussy gives him. His tongue enters you and the contrast between your tight heat and his coldness makes you delirious. Exquisite carnal pleasure, you could cum from it alone.

Alastor is having a hard time navigating this double edged knife: you don’t know who he is what is capable of, which means your aren’t near as scared of being this vulnerable with him as you should be, a literal cannibal delighting in your soft flesh, drinking the warmth of your sacred blood. You must taste delicious terrified. But the silver lining is that the fear he inspires would make any woman who knows more compliant to this, even offering this to him freely. You have no idea about his exploits, he can and he will tarnish you with all of his unholy darkness, wrecking your world during the eleventh hour when you realize what you’ve done, who you’ve so easily corrupted your morals and your spirit for. You’re so beautiful, so naive, so trusting, so alive. You moan “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor” soft ohhhs and aaaahs as he polishes your cunt, every sound you make, every twitch of your legs and roll of your lips reminding your ungodly lover of how delicate and rare you are, aiding him on his mission. Gripping the sheets isn’t enough anymore, you instinctively place your hands on his antlers, the texture indescribable. Again, the contradiction of the softness of his velvet and the sharpness of his teeth, wickedness of his tongue giving you whiplash. You start rubbing them furiously, trying to mirror his ministries on your swollen folds. It definitely is doing something to him because he drags his teeth along your inner tie, breaking more skin, drawing more blood, hissing. You scream at the heavenly pain mixed with unholy pleasure.

Normally, Alastor wouldn’t let anyone near his antlers, arguably the most sensitive part of his body. If worked right, the sensations take him to another level of desire, insane carnality. But you taste so sweet, rich blood mixed with erotic arousal on a soft flesh platter, he consumes your innocence as he coaxes another orgasm from you. You hold on to dear life on his antlers, his velvet shedding and bloodying your hands, running through adding to the painting of reds that connects you two. Something ignites on you and it’s the most intense orgasm of your life, you feel every nerve burning from everlasting fire, that transforms and transforms until it explodes in a supernova. You don’t have the strength to scream, so you whisper Alastor’s name like a filthy prayer.

He looks up grinning like a devil. Something makes you open your eyes as you ride out the waves of pleasure. There’s so much blood, blood dripping from his lips, blood on his nose, blood cascading down his bewitching face mixing in a flowing current of red, it ends in a glistening red pool where you meet each other in immoral sin, so inviting you could jump in. It’s like what would happen if the killers had caught you, but twisted into wicked, ungodly pleasure, it’s almost worse. Because well, if you’re killed you’d be dead and would never have experienced this, but now you have and the ephemerality of this night crashes on you and you feel conned, betrayed.

He licks his lips and stares right at you, a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes, you almost cum again.

Alastor feels delirious from the bloody mess in front of him, carnality so powerful it makes him insane, he needs to finish this. He needs to sink his cook deep into your slick cunt. Pushing himself up, he starts to position his cock on your entrance. He’s so tall, the shadows of his bloodied antlers cover you and hide the welcoming silver lighting of the moon. The stars look so different today, and the welcoming sight of a full moon looks merciless, devoid of warmth and hope.

“Women like you are not meant for mortal men. They cannot honor you, they cannot savor you, they cannot satisfy you. Once you take a bite of the forbidden fruit you understand your place. Pliant and submissive beneath me. To be ravished and tamed by something beyond puny mortality. You are made to me fucked, to be owned by the better man who defied destiny and transcended what the hands of fate enforced on him. You are Helen of Troy, tailor made to fit my cock, satisfy my thirst”

He teases your entrance with just the tip, making you greedly roll your hips towards him, a primal response to the ravishing words. Alastor laughs mockling at you attempt of getting him to fuck you on your terms, your time. You may not be aware of everything but by now you know you can’t outfox and fox on his own game.

“please. please. PLEASE” you scream the last word, you can’t take it anymore. A second without him touching your body feels like an eternity.

“Tsk. You look so pretty when you beg” the condescending compliment lands like music on your ears and he finally enters you. Inch after inch he spreads your tight walls open, practically breaking you. You understand now why people in times before yours had sex after battle. It’s the most rare and coveted feeling in existence, to greet imminent death, escape her fatal calling and then do the thing that undoubtedly proves you are alive. Only to meet her again at the finish line of carnal sensations and no rational thought. Primal need to feel, to live.

Alastor finally bottoms out with an animalistic growl, making your shiver under him. He fucks you at a merciless pace, he fucks you with haste, with urgency and abandon. He knows what he needs and he is going to take it.

“Hoooooly FUCK Alastor” you scream.

“There’s nothing holy here. Everything that’s holy has abandoned you. There’s only me, your wicked god who has you completely at his mercy, to fuck, to break” he takes it all out and enters you at once. You try so bad to look at him, to hold his piercing gaze with adamantine conviction but you can’t. It’s too much, overstimulation creeps on you and everything hurts. You shut your eyes.

“Look at me. Fucking look at me or I will stop” it’s not an order, it’s a threat. You should be scared, you feel scared, but tonight fear is diesel to your desire, and the pain makes you enter a mind numbing stage. The lines of torture and relief blurring together until you can’t discern a thing, you feel.

You do as you’re told. You look at him as he fucks you, thrusting like a mad man, obscene sounds reverberating throughout, you are being so loud you are sure they can hear you back on the village. The village, your cabin. You had a life before tonight. Will there be life after tonight?

You don’t have time to have an existential crisis because what Alastor does next gets your undivided attention.

“You will look at the demon who is ruining you, fucking you. You are no immaculate maiden anymore. You are a common whore for the Radio Demon” your eyes widen at the revelation. He is not a vampire, he’s not the devil. The fact that he is a demon and not satan makes you even more mortified, like you’ve settled for less. Just a little demon is what it takes to completely undo you.

Alastor keeps thrusting at a breakneck pace, feeling vindicated. He did exactly what he said he would do, he took the last fiber of comfort, of dignity away from you. He can see your entire world shattering on your beautiful doe eyes, making you finally feel the right amount of horror on the edge of a rapturous orgasm.

You feel true terror now, there was still a slimmer hope that he wasn’ evil incarnated, that he had a redeeming quality. After all, he saved you. Didn’t he save you? Or did you start something you are not even close to understanding? You feel terrified because there’s a demon fucking you, biting you, feasting on your blood and you fucking love it, you want it every night. You really took a bite from the forbidden fruit and ruined yourself.

“It’s too much, Alastor I can’t” the words leave your lips and feel like confession, like somehow if you admit your complete surrender it will absolve you of something.

“Too. Bad.” Alastor punctuates his point with delicious sharp trust after each word. He finally tainted you with his darkness and made you aware of it. He feels delirious, he feels like victory incarnated. Your moans grow louder and louder, now pleasure means pain, hell means rapture. Things that should not exist together making you feel the best you have ever felt. Tears spill from your eyes, the overstimulation something you’ve never felt before, mind numbing and life-altering.

In an act of paradoxical mercy, your demon lover rubs your clit and you’re out like a light. Your walls tighten around Alastor’s cock, and white hot pain, blinding red pleasure overcomes you. You feel like falling, you feel your literal fall from grace as your body tingles and burns with ineffable, forbidden pleasure. Alastor howls and cums inside you.

You land on silky, comfortable, alluring darkness.

The cool forest breeze greets your abused skin, it stings but feels soothing at the same time. Paradoxical, like everything from this night. Alastor holds you tight, cradling your head on his chest, petting your hair. He draws lazy circles on your hip bone, featherlight touch, careful and coy. You turn on your side to face him.

“Can you see it now? It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful” your mind asks you. You agree.

You start giggling, laughing. It is also so funny.

“What’s so funny, little doe?” Alastor asks you, genuinely amused. He feels elated from this night. He feels satiated, contented. It’s a very rare feeling for him.

“For a while I seriously considered you are an alien” you tell him, you can’t contain your laughter now. You are so silly. Alastor’s eyebrow shoots up, quizzical. He chuckles and indulges you. “Alien, is so mundane. You could never be an Alien, it’s way too easy”. What your giddy minds means is that now you know Alastor is anything but easy, actually there’s nothing like him. He’s something else. Something entirely different, a delicious mystery that creeps inside your heart, haunts you forever.

You stop laughing when realization hits you.

“Will I ever see you again, Alastor?” you ask him, your voice failing, nothing more than a whisper. You feel the ephemerality of this night, you feel daylight closing, ruthless sun rising that ends this everlasting dream.

Alastor stares deeply into your eyes, he sees your wanton desire, your trepidant expectations. “That depends entirely on you, my dear doe. It’s time to make a decision.” his voice is so soft it fucking hurts.

You look at the fading moon on the horizon, the distant stars judge you, the earliest of birds sing for you.

Yet from those starts, no light but rather, darkness visible.

You open your eyes, you feel impossibly rested. Your bed feels soft and you want to visit dreamland again, but the noise stops you.

Songbirds and blazing sirens mix together a cacophony of urgency. You get up fast, trying to remember little bits and pieces of the crazy dream you had and run to the big window across the room.

You look down, you see ambulances, police cars, lab coats and tall guys in FBI jackets.

Something definitely happened here last night.

That explains it then, the nature of your murderous dreams. The sirens creeped their way into your subconscious making that murderous, dreadful dream. You take a quick look and your hands and see nothing. Perfect, unblemished skin.

It felt so real. Strawberry fields and blood.

Your neighbor from across the street gestures manically at you from her window.

Fuck, it must have been really bad. There’s a lot of people at your doorstep.

Hurrying to put your robe on, you fly down the stairs towards the bustling crowd outside.

You are dying to know what happened. You were always a vivid dreamer.

You reach the hall and open the door, a polite officer starts talking to you.

You don’t notice the old radio on your vanity, or the opaque darkness that followed you from the corner of your room to the world outside.

#alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon x you #im insaneeeeeeeee #baixaria #im sorry everyone #alastor #the radio demon

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majimasleftasscheek · 9 months

Note

'The Majima Dilemma' Anon here, looking for some feedback on how would one write Goro Majima's other half Goromi so that it doesn't sound offensive or cringe-worthy. I have the basics - like some stuff noted from the game, but would like to hear someone's idea on Goromi-chan - how she acts around Kiryu or other people etc.

ohoho so I think that the best way to write her (subjectively of course) is to treat her sincerely. of course there's the elephant in the room depending on how you interpret her - I'm going to be viewing her as genderfluid cuz that's my thing so for my purposes, she's an amab dude in a dress. as such, I don't point out said elephant unless the point of my story is to talk about that specifically and with it often comes discussion of gender, etc etc. if I'm not talking about that, I talk about her as if she's any other woman doing her thang.

example: if I had a basic scene where she's putting on lipstick, I'm not going to write her as if she's struggling or being incompetent "because man unga bunga." I'd just have her put on lipstick. that same scene could change depending on the "when" too. maybe early Goromi did struggle but! it's important to portray that struggle with sincerity. write her being anxious, clumsy, etc. don't try to make it comedic tho as it'd be inappropriate imo. if there is anything funny, it shouldn't be at her expense.

so, the game treats the Goromi encounter like a joke, basically just a reason for Kiryu to fight her on the basis of "haha man in dress doesn't that just piss you off." so if you take anything from the game, the conversation they have in the minigame is where it's at, in regards to how Kiryu feels himself around her, how he doesn't have to put on airs, how Goromi's genuinely surprised, things like that. with such a short encounter, you really have to rely on your own imagination to expand upon it but even just that lil bit of exchange is a good base. beyond that, I wouldn't take away from the game that much tbh.

I write Goromi pretty much how I write Majima, with all the usual vulgarities and mannerisms since the way I see Goromi is that she's still very much the same person but with a femme flair. I know some do like to write her significantly different as a personality of her own so that too is an option if that's your thing. I project a lot of my genderfluid experience onto her so when I'm personally feeling flip floppy, I'm not really anyone new, but the way I act, the way I carry myself does differ to varying degrees.

so when Goromi's around Kiryu, for example, she's still up to kicking his ass and being a rude lil shit but she'll carry herself a bit more refined, generically ladylike but surface level - some of it being playing the stereotype of a woman, another part her actively trying to be someone else or "removed from being a typical man." for example, if I wrote Kiryu flirting with Majima, I'd make him get embarrassed but in a sort of aloof way with performative confidence typical of Majima. flirting with Goromi tho is different as she's being very vulnerable, very open about herself and when you love her, you love a part of Majima that he may feel self conscious about.

speaking of the previous mentioned elephant, if you wanna talk about Goromi being a dude, I think that's fine tbh if done with tact. I make it a point in my art to portray her as masculine because for me, the cis part of being genderfluid is just as important as everything else. so I like to see Goromi with her beard and muscles and dick bulge cuz fuck it. I don't shy away from that stuff but I don't make fun of it either. one of my best friends is a transwoman and respecting her as a woman no matter how passing she is, is very important to me. but it's not sunshine n rainbows either. if you do talk about that sorta thing, it does come with baggage and handling that doesn't always have the most right or the most appropriate answer. comes down to respecting people as people imo and I think with common sense and empathy, you can certainly write something well intentioned.

interaction-wise, I think she would try to act the part around most people, maybe being at odds with herself because she's not ignorant to how to she looks or behaves so she tries to be more elegant, more ladylike in order to be likeable, acceptable. but at the same time she's still very much Majima and that crassness doesn't just bleed but hemorrhages out of her. it's a battle within herself to decide how to behave so when people are being genuinely nice, she fumbles. I think it'd be normal even around people she's close to cuz even tho she knows she has their respect, it's almost unreal and she gets very flustered 😌 to an extent, I like to think she even rejects some of that kindness cuz her self doubt makes her think she doesn't deserve it or that people are being dubious to get on her good side.

she's good at faking it too. if you need her to be a perfect lil peach or put up with a lotta crap, she can do it. she'd more so do this if the situation required it so I can see her being polite around those of a higher status or if she was in a situation where she shouldn't be a goblin. she'd be pleasant but cold towards strangers, cautious you can call it, until she can place their vibes. there's an RGGO story (idk if you know what that is but it's basically yakuza gatcha on mobile) where Goromi (before Kiryu ever gets to Club Shine) very seriously plays the part of a hostess and wildly excels so she can very much be a totally different person if need be.

whenever I write an upset Goromi, I like to make her revert to tough guy Majima strats where she'll do her damnedest to not let anything get under her skin but it never goes well, especially if it's personal. if she's not crumbling under depression, she'll be snappy then pissy, handling anything with a fight over pouring her heart out. she's prone to spiraling and holding grudges, preferring to suffer in silence alone which is very much how I'd write Majima normally.

a happy Goromi is bombastic, moreso than Majima if that's even possible. and depending on the context, very very sincere. because the theater in my brain never stops replaying the same scenes over and over, I always have this mental picture that Kiryu says something sweet about Goromi and she's just on the quiet side smiling in a sad sort of way like she can't even believe he actually means what he says. and he looks at her worried like he said something stupid and she has to reassure him she's just happy to be so lucky and that tough exterior opens up just a lil more each time. Majima is a big softie and as Goromi, I feel he can explore that a lil more freely if hesitantly.

I hope this stuff helps! it's my own thoughts so of course take things totally subjectively. I think writing Goromi sincerely does rely on taking considerations of femininity, especially in regards to how a man would approach them and how society would view that. it's a lotta reactionary stuff and I think if you can empathize with that, you can write her well enough. Goromi is a divisive topic for people so you're not going to please everyone but trying to write her in order to please everyone wouldn't be sincere imo. she's a mixed bag of things, some good some ugly, so write her in ways you feel good about while also being considerate/respectful of course.

#sorry if this is mad wordy lol goromi is my everything my one and only #she got me to discovering my own gender shit so I'm just houghghgough <3 #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #majima goro #goromi #my art #my hcs

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yuusishi · 1 year

Note

Could I request Idia, Ace, and Leona being called handsome and fairer than Vil and Neige, please?

Bonus if Vil is in denial over it

. . . FAIREST IS...ME?

pairings : Idia Shroud , Ace Trappola , Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader (sep.)

genre : fluff

cws/tws : none

a/n : teehee I haven't worked on reqs in a bit

Idia Shroud !!

Oh boy, if denial could be a person it would be Idia Shroud.

Please, he'd keep denying it no matter how many times you've said it.

You could compliment his gaming skills and he won't hesitate in saying how great it is, but when it's his looks? Suddenly all that confidence is down the drain.

"Y-You must be joking, [Name]. No way I'm fairer than the Vil Schoenheit...and Neige LeBlanche no less!"

Whether or not you'd give up trying is up to you.

But! Don't worry, once you've left the dorm Idia would be giggling and kicking his feet thinking back that you called HIM fairer that Vil and Neige.

"Whee hee hee [Name] said I'm fairer than Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche, course I am! Wait..."

He'd go back to his self-deprecating nature once he catches himself saying that to himself, but that won't stop him squealing like a school girl about it into his pillow.

Ace Trappola !!

Ace isn't the self-depracating type like Idia nor is he the sly tease like Leona, he's the middle ground.

He'd probably go "Hah? What's this about? If you're trying to butter me up to get me to pay for your lunch later forget about it".

He'd smile a little to himself after even if he doesn't know if you really meant it or said it as a joke (this is a lie he knows you mean it he just doesn't wanna admit it).

The next time he encounters Vil I feel like he'd want to rub it in his face that you called him fairer that Pomefiore's housewarden himself, but he knows better than to pick a fight with a housewarden.

He'd definitely brag about it to the first years tho (without you there).

"Did you guys know [Name] said I was fairer that Vil-senpai earlier?" "Ace, this is the 3rd time you've talked about it please shut it".

Epel considers telling it to Vil just to spite Ace for the annoying amount of times he said it that day, but decides against it because snitches suck.

Leona Kingscholar !!

"Hm? You really think I'm fairer than that Vil of all people?".

He'd tease you about it, but you know that he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

After housewarden meetings, if Vil and Leona start bickering a little bit, Leona will definitely pull out the "Says the one that my herbivore said I was fairer than".

"You or that LeBlanche kid from RSA are the fairest? Not according to my herbivore you're not"

He'd eat it up whatever compliment you give him, but act all nonchalant about it (especially if it's about him being better than the other housewardens).

He's not the giggly type after you've left, but it definitely keeps him from sleeping the day away like usual, mumbling to himself about how stupid he was for getting all giddy inside over a single compliment.

Small bonus: Vil Schoenheit !!

"Those three? Fairer than me or Neige? My, has your vision become worse, dear potato? It's not safe to waltz around campus when you clearly cannot see properly"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fluff #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader

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leonslutkennedeeznuts · 8 months

Note

can you write Leon x short f!reader. we talking 150cm oow that’s will be cute to read

the first meeting will be:

she’s his new neighbour in the building, there apartments are cross each other. he didn’t know, when she moved he was in a mission. he come back at late after midnight.

In the morning he got out from his apartment to go to his work and he was locking the door when he intended to turn and leave he bumped into her because he didn’t see her. when he looked down he saw grocery bags covering your face , leon” oh sorry I didn’t see you’, you tilted your head slightly to see the person from behind the bags , you smiled’o-ooh don’t worry about it”, he offered “do you wanna help with that” he pointed to seem a heavy bags for you, you nod negative’ no thanks tho’ and you grab your keys from your pocket to open your apartment .

he thinks you are the cutest thing he ever seen. and he keeps thinking about you at work and Chris and Claire noticed!

re4 or re6 🤔..

My first fic request!!! Leon x Short Fem!Reader | Mentions of Claire and Chris | Fluffy Smut (if this is trash I AM SO SORRY!)

Leon hadn't noticed someone new had moved into his apartment building until he bumped into you that one fateful morning on his way to work. He had to look down to see who or what he'd hit before he realized. You were carrying groceries to the apartment right across from his, obviously struggling a little bit.

"Hey, sorry about that. I can help you drop these bags off," he offered only for you to shake your head no and hurry into your apartment.

He had tried to shrug the awkward encounter off but he couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed watching you walk away, the sway of your hips almost putting him in a trance. You were very short, barely 5'0 if he had to guess and for a split second the thought of lifting you into his arms effortlessly crossed his mind (and was filed away into his dirty thoughts).

---

Claire was the first to notice his little crush. She refused to drop the subject, even getting Chris involved in the teasing.

"Aww, Leon has a crush! Tell me all about her, you must," she pleaded.

"Yeah, Kennedy, who's the unlucky girl," Chris joked.

They were relentless but Leon refused to give in and talk about you with them. He wasn't sure if you'd be interested in the guy who almost knocked you over on your moving day. He'd been watching you ever since, trying not to be so obvious and creepy. His living room window gave him the perfect view of your front door- maybe he peeked every now and again to watch you leave and return home, hoping he'd be bold enough to just talk to you one day beyond the simple "Hi" and "Have a good day".

---

Leon finally had the courage to talk to you about two weeks later. The apartment complex was having a social hour, free drinks with light snacks at the clubhouse and you were there. Your smile and laugh lit up the room. He made his way over to you, nervous yet confident when he reached out to shake your hand.

"I'm Leon, I live across from you."

"Oh yeah, I've seen you around," you replied, hoping to not make it so obvious how attracted you were to him. "I'm new to the area."

"Well I'd love to show you around, if you're interested," Leon offered. There was a really nice steakhouse downtown that he'd love to take you to, to show you off, see you all dressed up in heels that would probably still have him towering over you.

You blushed and nodded at this invitation. "I'd like that a lot, Leon."

Everything seemed to fall into place from there.

You exchanged numbers and went on your first date the following Friday night. Leon was quickly falling for you, the way your head rested on his chest when you cuddled on the couch, the way he had to almost crouch down to kiss you with his hands in your hair, the way you stood on your tip toes to meet his lips halfway.

The arch of your back as you took every inch of him so perfectly, squealing and begging for more. The way you rode him and let his hands hold your hips steady as he pounded into you, his eyes transfixed on the bulge in your stomach from the length of him. The way your tight, little mouth couldn't fit all of him but you tried so hard, gagging and tearing up swallowing his load. How he could lift you up and have you bouncing on his cock, your cum leaking down his thighs as he was relentlessly hellbent on making you orgasm over and over, your nails digging into his shoulders and back.

It wasn't long before you were moving into his apartment after Leon bought out your lease, having you meet Claire and Chris and the rest of his close friends with Leon proudly introducing you as his girlfriend.

#ask deeznuts #leon fic request #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x short reader #leon kennedy x short female reader

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bubblergoespop · 3 months

Text

EA Thoughts (this one’s pretty long lmao)

i can already tell i’m gonna struggle to articulate my thoughts enough to write them down but here goes

the description saying “more and less (and more)” YES HES MORE THANK YOU

“doc i need you” SAY LESS i am at your beck and call, i am at your service, i am at your disposal.

hush genuinely freaking out over what he did PAINED ME and it reminded me of caelum’s audio directly after his encounter with vega where fl had to help heal him up. with the way doc comforted hush after he poofed in randomly. the similarity but also contrast there is crazy, with one in which vega had done the harm upon the speaker and the other in which the speaker had done the harm towards vega. idk how to word this 😭

i’m thanking doc so hard for hugging hush bc I COULD NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE i wanna protect him from the rest of the world istg everyone needs to shut up

“what kind of magic is this?” HUSH YOU ARE KILLING ME ugh this one’s gonna stay stuck in my mind for a good while i’m telling you now. hush’s whole being and purpose are related to magic, i wonder what it’s like for him to embrace the non-magic aspects the world has to offer

aight so what are anacruses and why tf was vega one of them??? im done with hush’s audios constantly introducing new terms (im not); articulate, anacruses and i’m sure there’s more but i’m too caught up in the most recent audio rn

THE “touch me. please” AND THEN FOLLOWING IT UP WITH “why does that feel so good?” ERIK I AM AT YOUR DOOR OPEN UP

I KNEWWWW ITTT demons don’t die in the same way humans do. they don’t go to death like humans, so it’s possible for vega to come back. im struggling to be happy about this tho bc hush basically also said it’s impossible for blake to come back 😞😞

hush is now taking doc with him?? we’re going on a little adventure 🙈 i hope doc gets to meet other characters and we get to see how they interact with speakers other than hush through this. but also it’s worrying bc hush obviously would not be able to handle anything bad happening to doc and now he’s bringing them into a position that very clearly endangers them? mkay

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted early access

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mrstsugikuni · 11 months

Text

"His moonlight."

Summary:

(name) kibutsuji is the daughter of muzans kibutsuji and out of all his off spring she has proven herself worthy to him. Kokushibo always saw her as distraction since muzan has actually taken a liking to her and actually loved her, he was almost always busy spoiling her and giving her his attention. Kokushibo never understood why until he finally saw what he saw his heart taking it's first beat in 500 years.

This whole story will be in kokus pov. Unless said other wise in one of the chapters!

WARNING: The story itself WILL contain suggestive scenes, and/or sexual encounters. I will put a warning before the scene so you can skip if you're not comfortable. Anyways enjoy the story lovelies 🫶

Chapter 1.

Muzans did it again. He brang his daughter to the meeting. Oh how I hate her with every non living gut in my body, I can't stand her unique eyes, her smile that's almost like the sun, and just everything about her! I'm so sick of her I wish muzans never even saw anything in her and she'd disappear!

I just don't understand, why is she so favored she hasn't been alive that long at all! Just 21 years, so why her from any of us! Why her and not me! She's just like yoriichi and I hate that! Why can't he see she's just like him! It isn't fair.

I bowed before my master, even if I did believe he was being foolish for this girl. But I'm being even more foolish or childish as some would say because of the way I'm acting about this. I mean it's just some girl, nothing more. I just don't understand why he's still keeping her so close like she's 5, she's an adult.

"kokushibo, please refrain yourself from staring at my daughter!" I heard my master, was I staring? I mean I knew I was zoning out from my jealous thoughts but I didn't think I was staring. "Yes, master sorry." I bowed my head to stare at the floor and not his disgusting daughter since I was apparently staring.

"I will be going somewhere for a while, Tomorrow I will decide who shall take care of her and I don't wanna hear any complaints if I choose one of you." Muzans said, and knowing my luck he might choose me since he trusts me more than any of them.

Suddenly I felt a pair of eyes on me, I looked up once more scanning the room for who might be staring and that's when I met her eyes, that brat.

Her face flushed red as she looked away and hid behind her father, I rolled eye's and looked back down not wanting to part take in her childish acts.

I simply wasn't interested.

The meeting was over and muzans had asked for us to get to know her while he went off to think by himself for a bit. It seemed as of tho she wasn't interested in what any of them were talking about but I would find her trying to look for someone probably me, luckily I was hiding.

Without even realizing it, I felt a presence behind me and I knew exactly who it was. "what do you want?" I asked trying to get this useless conversation over with. "Well, my father told me to get to know everyone so that includes you as well!" She gave me her signature smile and I couldn't help but grimace at such a face.

Disgusting. *perfect?* No.

Her eyes fluttered open like a princess under the night sky with moonlight shining on her perfectly shaped face.

Ugly. *Pretty..* No!

Her eyes capturing mine sealing them in as she continued to talk to me in her little sweet voice or what ever.

Obnoxious. *Funny!* NO!

These unwanted comments bubbling in my head piss me off. I hate her more than anything. There isn't a day where I don't think about smashing her head into a wall.

That's when I felt another presence and I snapped out of my thoughts. "Hello, (name)-chan! I missed not being able to talk to you!" Douma said in a voice coated with the sickening fake sweetness he puts on.

"Oh hello douma-san!" Her face lit up at seeing him as she patted the spot next to her.

*should be me...* NO!! SHUT UP!

He sat next to her scooting closer to her, he was almost on top of her it seemed and that's when I felt it.

Anger.

But why? I hate her, why do I feel this, if anything I should be happy cause now she isn't talking to me but I'm not. I want him to disappear and go away. He shouldn't even be near her.

Almost like he knew he was making me angry he put his arm around her and pulled her close. I got up and just walked away. I didn't wanna feel any of that, I didn't understand why I was in the first place. Nothing he was doing felt right but I hate her.

I hate her more than yoriichi.

I continued to walk around the infinity castle trying to figure out why I was feeling such an emotion when he was near her. But nothing I couldn't think straight.

"Kokushibo-dono~." Great the bastard followed me. "What do you need?" I asked him obviously showing signs I was annoyed with him. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok, you just got up and left." He said smirking.

"Nakime, teleport me to my home."

I was in the safety of my home, away from him, and away from her. "Maybe some meditation will help me calm my nerves and figure out why I was acting in such a way." I walked outside where the mist ran thick and no human dare go, the silence was overpowering, and the trees blew in the wind.

"What a lovely night." I sat in a patch of grass, and gazed at the moon before closing my eyes and taking in deep breaths.

My mind couldn't stop thinking about her.

Her smile, her eyes, her voice, and her lips.

I shouldn't be thinking of her in such a way, but something keeps pulling me closer to these thoughts.

When she was younger I never had these thoughts I hated her, wished she would die. But when she turned 18.. everything changed. I started getting weird thoughts, unwanted ones.

It was almost like it was her blood demon art.

Hallucinations? Mind control? Just messing with ones brain in general? I don't know and perhaps I never will.

But there isn't a day she isn't on my mind, and there isn't a day I'm not begging for her death. I need to figure all this out, I need to find out why I get such thoughts, maybe muzans knows but he doesn't have time for such a foolish question.

#kokushibo x reader #kny x you #kokushibo #upper moons x reader

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quarks-pussy · 7 months

Text

So I know we here at Startrekfandom love that "came back wrong but from the pov of the wrong" thing and apply it to many different characters and canon situations and I am far from trying to complain about it (I'm "came out wrong" trope myself so I was always gonna obsess over it) but having recently watched a very important episode (you'll know which one) for the first time I think there's a character who hits both tropes mentioned but llike, intertwined, opposite and subverted, and whom I wanna talk about.

Julian Bashir.

From his parents' pov he's "came out wrong but we got him help and he came back better" while from his own pov it's "came out 'insufficient', was destroyed for it, came back wrong and only later slowly came to terms with his new self tho never the process (justifiably so)" and it's heartbreaking because in a way, he's right! Jules Bashir died! His parents had an intellectually disabled child and decided to eugenics him! Julian is not the person he used to be and while I do love the person he is now, that doesn't bring back who he was! Part of me wishes we could've gotten to see Jules at least once and part of me hopes we never do because my heart would shatter.

This isn't a good comparison but nonetheless one I can't help drawing: it's giving similar vibes to anti-vaxxers. "I'd rather risk having a child who is dead than one who's autistic". Obviously this doesn't map over since Julian is still autistic and the procedure his parents subjected him to specifically targeted his intellectual disability and if any folks with id wanna comment on this I definitely recommend you listen to them over me, but it's a similarity I, as an autistic who has encountered anti-vaxxers again and again, can't help but point out. "Give me a normal child or give them death."

This may have been written about already but there needs to be stories about teenage Julian (after finding out and rediscovering who he was) practicing some good ol' recognition of the self through media. I need to hear about how he would encounter a story about someone who came back wrong (I'm gonna assume there's plenty of "wrong" pov stories floating around by the 24th century) and absolutely weep. I need to see Julian mourning Jules, taking years and years to process his feelings, experiencing guilt about how he, the imposter, didn't deserve to live Jules' life.

Came back wrong from the returned's pov but it wasn't an accident. It was done to you deliberately by the people who claim to love you. And now you are here, piloting the corpse of your predecessor.

Jules Bashir is dead. Long live Julian Bashir.

#i've called julian jules before simply as a normal nickname but i don't think i ever will again. not after this #and knowing that if it had been possible i would have probably gone the way jules did. knowing that at his age i would have gone willingly.#fuck dude i am literally actually crying literal tears irl right now this is not a joke #fuck!!!!!#julian bashir #jules bashir #doctor bashir i presume #came back wrong #star trek deep space nine #HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD!! HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD AND THEY KILLED HIM!!!!#i cannot stop crying i am literally crying and like not even just a little #i cannot... poor julian how the FUCK do you ever come to terms with something like that #and like... julian remembers. he has most if not all of jules' memories and also knows he was murdered simply for not being julian #like how did he cope #(im about to go off on a tangent that will contain censored names for the sake of not clogging those tags if you dont know who i mean hmu)#like this is literally the thing that fucked up j*ran so bad he went on a murder spree isn't it #he remembers the one who came before who was killed. very different circumstances of course esp since tr*ll are expected to replace one ano #another but he remembers this person he remembers BEING this person who was young and simply enjoying life and who died a sudden death and #he remembers the experience of that death as well and how it lead to his own creation. it's not remotely similar ofc but considering that #the only time we see t*rias in alpha canon is in julian's body... i need to lie down for a moment.#and jor*n couldn't cope! he couldn't! it was far too much and the weird thing is right now in this moment i GET it y'know?? like that's #so horrific. and i haven't watched any jo*an episode besides facets yet but do you think. do you think j*dzia told julian about all this an #he nodded along and kept composure and then when he was alone he broke down crying? like julian you're doing SO well ily you're coping and #you shouldn't have to obviously but you do nonetheless!! do you think julian still has something from jules? like i've heard there's a tedd #but i mean jules prolly didn't keep a diary he was a six year old with an intellectual disability it's pretty unlikely he could write but #does julian have drawings made by jules? i'd like to think so but honestly his parents probably threw them out. like they also moved so #sorry i'm just. many thoughts head full. ive stopped crying now but who knows for how long. also i'll have to tag this with my original tag #maybe i should've picked something less silly for when i make serious posts but like what am i gonna change my url as well? don't think so #original posts fresh from quark's pussy #and thats the tag limit folks it's been fun. i had to delete two other tags but my god. anyway. thinking about jules bashir forever & cryin

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ghost-bxrd · 8 days

Note

I got an important question!

What if the other talon in owl song *is* Cobb

Will the batfam have to like ‘tame’/‘find him an emotional support human’ *cough cough Bruce cough cough* before he can become part of the batfam’s rising collection of assassin birds or would Cobb already be friendly? (As friendly as a grumpy assassin bird can be)

*gasp* big bird nesting cuddle pilessss!!!

Well if the other Talon is Cobb, keep in mind that whenever there was passing mention of them in Owl Song (once or twice off the top of my head, last one during the encounter with Freeze) it was in a negative way. So Dick doesn’t have many (if any) good memories about them.

As such we can deduce that they’re either wholly devoted to the Court of Owls and their practices, or they’ve been even more thoroughly brain washed than Dick was. Or both. Or maybe neither. :)))

One thing is for sure, if they wanna try and rehabilitate them (if the other Talon even still exists) it will be much harder than it was with Dick. 😌

Honestly though I’d love hearing the theories you guys have about the Other Talon tho ksksks 💚✨

#the other Talon #Owl Song #Talon Dick Grayson

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tomatoswup · 1 year

Text

Maybe... ☼ 3

summary: a meeting with the priest reveals a bit more information about a certain individual that has you distraught. Vash plushie here to defend!

warnings/tags: reader and wolfwood sibling dynamic, mischevious plushie (biTE HIS ANKLES BESTIE!!!),, wolfwood is giving concussions with the way he rides a motorcycle.

A/N: ....hi? :'D sorry for the late updates hehehe,, i usually write late nights but i've been late night gaming with friends these last few weeks hehe,,, i'VE COME TO DELIVER ANOTHER PLUSH FIC THO☝️☝️

p.s yes this was a scheduled post :p

<previous

Encounters with the priest were those you weren't really that big a fan of.

Although he bullied you like a close sibling, he often got on your nerves with the slick remarks he would shoot at you. But how long has it been? Two years?

Has it really been that long?

It just felt like yesterday when you told him that his grey button up looked like shit and you two wrestled in the sand dunes.

Lovely memories!

"Woah! Look at this!" The Vash plushie gasped out in awe as he ran circles around the modified motorcycle, peeking at the shiny surface of the hot metal.

"Hey be careful!" You called out to the plush as you took slow steps towards Wolfwood as he pushed himself off the ground and brushed the sand off his clothes. Oh look! He changed the grey to white!

...hehehe...

"Well aren't I glad to see you! How long had it been since we last saw each other? Two years now?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, crossing your arms around your chest "Now why is it always whenever we meet you're stranded in the desert? Seems like a memory."

"You know God's timing is sadly always right haha!"

Yikes! You heard the tinge of pain in that one!

"I was making my way to town just a few ways from here. Need help from an old friend of ours." He smirked, putting those shades of his up from his nose and to the top of his head as you gave him a hard stare.

"Alright now enough with the bluffing.." You sighed, putting a hand on your hip.

"Bluffing? What makes you think I'm bluffing?"

...

"Okay yeah maybe I lied to you the last time about not being a part of the Gung-ho guns but it wasn't that bad-"

"Maybe?! Leaving a PRETTY important piece of information out there buddy! Why should I even still be talking to you, ya know what!-"

"Maybe if you listen to me, you bet your ass you're gonna wanna hear this." You watched as Wolfwood straightened his back and looked out into the desert plains.

"I heard from a few townsfolk around that a certain someones in town."

No.

"You're playing with me Wolfwood, there's no way-"

"He's alive." He breathed out, scratching the side of his neck "The idiot's just hiding."

Hiding.

He's...Hiding?"

HIDING!?! AFTER THINKING HE WAS DEAD FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS!?

You really were gonna kick his ass when you saw him.

You scoffed, putting a hand up to your forehead "Hiding? Got any evidence?"

"HEY!" The squeak of the plush rang out from behind Wolfwood, making the both of you turn your attention to him.

And with that, you met with the sight of the small plushie trying to lift the pistol above his head, fumbling as the gun was clearly too heavy for him "LOOK!" The little nibs of his feet stumbling around the bike seat.

It was Vash's pistol.

Your mouth fell agape "Y-you-"

"This is the only evidence I could give ya' right now." Wolfwood said from behind you as you marched over to the bike past him, softly padding the top of the plushie's head before grabbing the gun.

"Thanks lil' guy..."

You couldn't help but just observe the weapon he always held. Moving it around in your grasp as the sun shined down on it, you saw the dents and cuts of the metal on the surface of the gun. Not too much damage and in honesty, it was in pretty good condition.

The dirt, and sand it had been dusted with had given it a rusted look sure, but with some cleaning, it'll look good as new. Tilting it to the side, you caught sight of the bullets still in the gun's barrel.

Seriously...

Your mouth felt dry and as if they were shut with glue as you tried to push back the growing pressure in your throat. No need to cry now, you can't cry here.

The gun felt hot in your hands, each waking moment you held it felt as if it held the world, and maybe his own.

"Hey you!" Wolfwood's eyebrow rose in wonder as he turned his head to the little thing of a plushie on the seat of his motorcycle, giving him a stern eye and an angry hop. "Don't make them cry!"

Aw he was trying to protect you! Such a cutie~

Wolfwood held back the urge to laugh out loud lol "Now this thing was gonna be my next question!"

He leaned down towards the seat and grabbed the plushie by the hoodie of his poncho, the discontent on the plushie's furrowed brows made the scene more funnier.

"Looks like you've come a long way! I'm surprised you don't have a loose stitch if you're traveling with sunshine over there!" He pointed a thumb in your direction and just maybe you said an unflattering word back.

maybe~

"No offense!"

"All taken!"

"Well! It's nice to meet you! I'm Vash!" The plushie chirped out, swinging his little legs forwards to hug Wolfwood's forearm, before sliding down his arm and up his chest to reach his shoulders.

"Woah there! He's a happy one alright!"

Putting Vash's gun away in your bag for safe-keeping, you watched on as the plush messed around with the priest. Ultimately climbing and just standing on top of his head, he gave you a cute ":P" before jumping up and down.

Pft...

"But who would make plushies of him?" Wolfwood snapped his head towards you with a raised eyebrow "Was it yo-"

"No!"

You leaned on his bike, staring at the plush's shenanigans "I found him while I was traveling. Apparently someones' making them and he was the only one that was um..alive per say."

The plushie now hung off Wolfwood's necklace as you saw the practical 'irk' mark of annoyance on his forehead "Well if god decided to send a little angel down, I'll say you're lucky to have a good companion!"

He shot you a soft smile, one you really rarely saw besides of his usual smirk "You needed one, didn't you?"

You didn't respond, and just watched on as the plushie hung off his ear.

"Ow ow ow-"

Maybe you did...

Time passed and before you knew it, the priest offered you a ride to town on the bike, to save time and as a "team-up" in his own words.

And who were you to decline?

Bag secured on the back of the bike alongside Wolfwood's cross that you had gracefully booted out of the seat, you sat in the little sidecar holding down your cowboy hat with your hand.

"Could you drive any faster!?" You shouted over the sound of the engine roaring, your hair messily getting blown back.

"YOU WANNA DRIVE? BE MY GUEST!" Wolfwood retorted, keeping his eyes forward and his hands on the handles.

Resting your back into the seat, you kept your free hand cupped over the plushie that was sitting on your lap.

"This is so fun!!!" He wiggled around excitedly, having used a scrap of cloth he found as a small scarf that flowed backwards with the wind.

"Careful! I don't want you flying out!" You cried as the two of you almost jumped out of your seats as Wolfwood ran over a large rock.

God please let the both of you live and get to town in one piece, okay maybe you'll have a few scratches here and there but you still had a tall blonde to beat half to death!

You exhaled at the thought. You didn't know how you'd react if you saw him. Mad? Relieved that your lover was still alive? Maybe you'll pop a vein and faint.

Who knows?

Only time could tell...

#vash x reader #trigun imagines #trigun headcanons #trigun #vash imagine #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash plushie

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