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fauxraven · 1 year

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Can I request that me and Morpheus are husband and wife and I have telekinesis and I protect him from all the people who are after him but i over use them and I pass out but release a energy blast but he catches me in his arms and places me in his bed until I wake up and I finally reveal who I am and he is very sweet about it

Brave New Dream

pairing: Dream of the Endless x Powerful fem!reader

summary: a thousand lifetimes of protecting the man you love and a billion reasons to love you more.

warnings: slight spoilers for the comics.

word count: 3k+

dedicated to this lovely Anon who, I hope will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Not sure this is what you had in mind but I took a bit of a creative license ;)

Enter the Dream, weary traveller

The universe began in death.

The world as humans know it was created billions and billions and trillions of years ago.

And for the longest time, there was nothing there.

Not even darkness.

Nothing but a pile of rocks that I'd crafted from my tears, long before I even knew about tears; long before I even knew about sadness.

Long before I knew about anything at all.

Unfortunately, the concept of sadness is one I’ve become familiar with. It's a concept I completely owe to myself, lest there be a Depression of the Endless I would be unaware of.

Naturally, sadness has never only really been just sadness.

And love has never really been just love.

Sadness and love; the only things I've ever taken for granted. I drag them behind me, like one of my husband's long billowing coats, on my road to eternity.

And eternity, is unbearable.

Eternity is impervious to evolution.

Eternity is impervious to the big D.

Eternity has never been anything else but existence, uninterrupted.

Nothing but me, sitting cross-legged on a giant rock floating in endless nothingness, watching stars bursting into life.

Billions and billions of lives.

Billions and billions of deaths.

Aeons fly by.

Atoms arrange, break down, rearrange, reshape, remodel in an infinite scheme for life.

And of this new process, burst life, everlasting.

The Creator came first.

He shaped worlds and realities of incomparable beauty, worlds that I could admire from my rock in a secluded part of this new universe. For him, I was grateful.

The Designer came second.

She'd always been here, in a way, just like me, but the Elden Books only gave her life meaning when her disembodied eyes had found those of her equal. For her, I was devastated.

Mother Night and Father Time were a logic addition to this bubbling garden of life, looking back.

Night and Time.

The essence of youth, ebbing away, crumbling to dust with each passing day; the everlasting presence of darkness itself, allowing thought to mankind, spawning fear and wonder in equal parts.

Night and Time. They never even knew I was there.

Night and Time and their children.

Seven Endless, seven beings, just as lost as I. Seven creatures of obedience and rules and death and destiny and dream and destruction and despair and desire and delight and—

Love.

So much love.

At first sight really; at first heartbeat.

But they were meant for inspiration, these beings, nothing else. Never anything else.

Whereas I was meant to watch.

From the darkest yet untrodden corner of a burgeoning universe, in a form that was not my own and thoughts that never sparred with anyone nor anything else. For them, I became everything that I am today.

But the beginning is important to this story; perhaps twice as important as the end. As it was from this very rock of oblivion, that I witnessed the purest thing yet.

The universe began with a dream.

A tiny dream, the first dream ever dreamt.

A fickle thing born of love.

A firstborn daughter, dreaming of her father, long since dead in battle. Fuzzy around the edges, the dream had no tangible contender, nor substance.

The father had no face to look at, no eyes to stare into nor voice to listen to; he was only as strong as all the men in her village, but the babe had no use for a face, only for a feeling.

She saw herself as older, fuller, running into his arms and laughing—laughing is not quite the opposite of crying, you see, but it is a merciful lie, one we tell ourselves to preserve our hearts, if only for a moment.

And the newly-born Dream Lord, barely more than a babe himself, was the sole puppeteer of this blooming hope.

And he was beautiful.

I loved him instantly for it.

I loved him for hope, I loved him for dreams, I loved him for love, even. I loved him for everything he could do and everything he could be. I loved him because when I thought of him I didn't feel quite as alone anymore.

I loved him because he gave me the courage to leave my rock and set sail for the stars. He'd never admit it, but Earth had always been his favourite of all worlds. And so it became mine.

Every waking moment, I sought to protect him. To love him from afar, rather than to not love him at all.

These days, it proved harder a task than usual.

The turn of the Twentieth century had offered me many things.

Semi-security, as a traveller, a woman, an impossible being. I'd been burnt as a witch, drowned as a witch, scalped as a witch, wheeled as a fae and hanged as a thief. I did not enact revenge. All of these were true, to some extent.

I'd established various homes across the aeons, found others like me, befriended some, hated nearly all of them. Always loved him.

Human beings are selfish by nature, but they have a knack to come about it that is just so ethereally beautiful and insightful and... magnificent. Just so uniquely human.

My love was just as self-absorbed. My friends themselves had some choice words about my aeon-long pining.

But of those friends, I particularly resented one.

Madame Klare was nothing particularly graceful nor spiteful. Only horrifyingly, tediously decent.

She knew of my shameful feelings, naturally. I reckon her exact words were A worthless waste of cosmic time, or some such lines.

The jab wasn't strictly intended to my feelings but rather to the unconventional way I chose to deal with them.

You see, I wholeheartedly believe that ire and hate are driving emotions, but there comes a time when the well of hate has run dry, when ire is no longer burning away in a pit but dying out in a shallow pool.

But love... love is infinite.

And when you love something as much as I love Morpheus, you protect it. It's the most... natural thing in the worlds—all and every of them worlds.

And time and time again, I protected him.

It began like a drawl; a slow, steady choreography that I practised alone from behind a one-way mirror—the Selena Gomez to his Drew Seeley.

He was a dark dot on a map, followed by a burst of light—life and love, everlasting.

My entire lives, I kept running after him.

After billions and billions of years, I was awarded a holiday by my dear friend.

A centennial thing—every three hundred years, she would kick my ass to the curb. I would leave for a century; go off-world, love myself, love the stars, come back and resume my duties to my one true love.

It was also during this century of lenience that my love was stolen from me.

I encountered him again some time later in a park in England, feeding the pigeons, of all things. I found him changed, in an odd, less tormented way.

The sun was showing her glowing head, burning brightly on an amateur soccer game. A fevered child ran past Dream of the Endless—he glanced at it with disdain and I stifled a laugh.

Needless to say, in this picturesque landscape, the broody dream Lord stood out like a sore thumb.

Something in him called out to something buried in me. For the first time, I decided to break my own rules.

He didn’t notice when I sat beside him.

‘’I love pigeons. They only ever need you for food but at least they’re very straightforward little bastards about it.’’

He gave me a sideway glance—sapphire blue and decaying hopes—and flicked another crumb to the surrounding flock.

There have been many an occasion, many a cause for his sadness over the years.

Sadness swallowed him whole every time.

Which is why I’d promised myself that I would never be the source of it.

Sadness was a default setting for both of us, but his was an infinite whirlpool, a tiny part of an endless ocean, extinguishing all hope of light it came across. And for a very long time, I thought this was all there was. But his sadness was so much deeper, so much stranger and so much more beautiful than that. Than mine. He was it. He was my everything.

My hand found his knee; only for a second, only for a tiny speck of comfort magic to weave through the dark jeans, through muscle, make-believe tissue and bone and there—the heart of an endless.

He looked at me then. At the smile I unknowingly offered him and the warm touch of my hand on his knee. And panic set in. Like every time for the past ten billion years, I scrammed.

⚭ ⚭ ⚭

The universe was playing a cruel joke on me.

The cruelest yet.

I simply kept seeing him everywhere, without even looking.

I wasn’t being strictly honest with myself either.

I knew about Hob and the New Inn; I had known about everything for a very long time.

I just didn’t expect he would see me right away.

I didn’t expect Hob to point a finger to the standoffish girl who’d been stalking his old friend for hours. I didn’t expect the man himself to look over. I didn’t expect my legs to be such traitors in the nick of time.

‘’Hi,’’ Keep it cool. Keep it together. Oh, god. He’s looking at me. He’s really looking at me and seeing me and I’m standing there, not doing anything. ‘’Can I… buy you a drink?’’

I’d done many stupid things over time. Hurt a lot, broke my own heart, shadowed him dutifully.

Loved him with everything that I had.

Of that, I said nothing.

I spoke of awkward things, shallow things, lively things, shiny things and funny things.

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t say much at all. He just kept staring and listening and I was entirely convinced that by the end of the evening I would scramble off back to my rock.

But I did not.

And he asked to see me again.

From there, something blossomed. Something beautiful and unlikely and ultimately based on lies.

But life went on.

And we… we fell into this lie so easily—he, digging deeper into the clumsy courtship and I, burying myself in a grave made of my own rules. It looked an awful lot like the underside of a cosmic rock.

He believed me human; of all things.

He saw my messy flat, and my boho friends and he showed me his realm and his love and it all absolutely terrified me.

I began by lying to my boyfriend.

Before long, I kept lying to my husband.

In all fairness, I’d denied him, the first time.

And despite his sadness and anguish, and my own self-loathing, I kept denying him until I just couldn’t anymore.

The wedding itself was all very briskly. Unexpected.

Right after I’d said no for the fifth time and just before I’d said yes for the first.

Something blue, something stolen, an immortal best man and his sister Death, officiating a small barely-put-together ceremony in the middle of an English park. It was perfect. It was everything.

I tried to convince myself that I was happy. I tried to live in a lie. I chose to kiss my husband every day, to chase his touch, to listen to the voice in me that needed him nearly as much as he needed me.

But every story, if you keep it going long enough, ends in death.

Death, is no beautiful lady on a languid trek through Brighton.

Death, is a burst of light, with a twist.

It’s a blonde woman who’s just lost a son and will take it out on anyone.

On the love of all my lives.

My physical form is used to these instincts by now. I should know better. I really, really should know better.

My mind follows, leaping from the confines of a rock at the borders of a forgotten universe.

I stand between a broken woman and a tattered dream—and I burst. I let it engulf all parts of me in every world that I’ve ever known. My power reacts on its own, fuelled by instincts and a dreary endless life without him.

This life remembers aeons of solitude.

It remembers bright skies and a dream of love. It remembers an otherworldly burst of light and a bewildered dream and a fuzzy mother.

This death remembers an endless embrace of sinew and a bed of starlight and wobbling bookshelves coming into focus.

‘’Boss? I think she’s coming to.’’

‘’My dream? Can you hear me?’’

A fuzzy dream of love and a talking raven.

A throbbing head and a loving hand in the small of my back, helping me up.

‘’What’s happening?’’ No. Wrong question entirely. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’It seems you’ve used up your… energy. Trying to help me.’’

‘’He means that you totally kicked ass today.’’

The raven isn’t an unusual sight. The bite in my husband’s eyes however…

It’s not that I haven’t seen this gaze before; this cool, unperturbed, assessing gaze. It’s just that I have never seen it in relation to me. This is death, for the first time in fifty billion years.

‘’Leave us.’’

The master’s orders are seldom discussed, and I am eternally grateful to Matthew for his slight twitch and dubious glance but I reassure him with a small smile. The bird flies away through a window; a window I recognise. Dream’s window. Our window in our little cosmic alcove, here, in his kingdom.

‘’It’s nice to see you still consider me enough to spare a pillow for my head,’’ I observe, stretching on the silk sheets and throwing him a coy smile. ‘’But whatever should we do with this insanely large bed?’’

‘’You lied to me.’’

The bite is cutting, gritted through a carefully crafted mask of indifference. It hurts more than the fleeting ghost touch of brushing against him in a busy street. More than shoving sixteenth century robbers with a wandering eye for rubies against a wall of a tavern with the force of my mind. Far more than nudging an engagement ring towards the man I’ve always loved, painfully aware that he would be gifting it to another woman.

‘’I’m not human, Morpheus.’’

The words are painful; they clog in my throat, and I wish to take them back immediately. A teardrop glistens in his endless eyes. I want to reach up and collect it before it falls.

‘’What, then?’’

‘’I don’t know. Not exactly. I never have. I just know that I’m old. Older than you.’’

He chuckles bitterly. ‘’That is impossible.’’

‘’Nothing is impossible. You taught me that.’’

‘’It’s all been a lie, has it not?’’

‘’Yes.’’ I’m desperate. Pathetic. His. ‘’You have to understand, I just wanted to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, baby.’’

‘’You lie.’’

‘’I live for you.’’ I put his hand over the last beating organ I have left and kiss his tears away. ‘’I burn for you. I die for you.’’

‘’You’ve killed for me, my love. And you almost did die as well.’’

‘’I’ll do it again. Tomorrow if you’re free. I might have to sneak out, though. My husband gets awfully jealous; in this very hot very red-flaggy way.’’

He gives a snort—even that is dignified—and takes my face into his hands. ‘’You’ve overwhelmed yourself.’’

‘’Happens once every millennia. Only with you though. Always with you.’’

And then I read it. The confusion in his face. Dream’s always been an open book to me; an open books of books, Destiny’s own damned tome of forged tales. Dream is my fate, I know that now.

‘’When? When did you start…’’

Complete and unabridged truth. In sickness and in health. For now and until forever ends.

‘’Do you remember Alianora?’’

He remembers. He remembers everything.

‘’She needed a bit of a nudge to cross over. Took care of those lousy gods though, did she not?’’

I did it. It’s done. Out in the multiverse.

I’ve just admitted to indirectly saving his life and his realm. I’ve just admitted to unknowingly third wheeling in one of his earliest relationships. I’ve just admitted to loving him, for eons past.

‘’That was you? You helped her then?’’

‘’And a few more times across time. Once or twice or a billion. You, mister, are a magnet for trouble.’’

‘’You should have shown yourself.’’

‘’I had no wish to trample on your happiness. I wanted you happy, even if it wasn’t with me. That’s what love is, isn’t it?’’

‘’I love you.’’ He says after a drop. His admission has my own eyes watering. ‘’I think I loved you even when I didn’t know you.’’

‘’I don’t,’’ I sob into his jaw. ‘’I hate myself. I hate myself for not being there, for not being by your side when you were imprisoned.’’

‘’Do not fret. I was released and then—I met you.’’

He’s lost his eloquence somewhere in this mess of tears and snot that we share, and the kisses I keep peppering along his jaw and the thousand truths I haven’t told him yet. But I purposely pause to tell him this one.

‘’That wasn’t easy, you know.’’

He pauses as well to look me in the eyes properly.

‘’A real hurdle. There were guards everywhere and I can’t reach that far on my own. I just had to make it look like an accident—a misplaced swipe of a tired wheel. But it worked. It set you free, and I am so glad that it did, because then I wouldn’t have had these glorious years with you. I peaked, I really did.’’

He stands frozen for a moment.

My dream king, prince of stories who’s just been told an entirely new one that he doesn’t understand.

I stare deeply into those starlight eyes only to find that I can read him no longer. It frightens me beyond compare.

‘’Please, say something.’’

He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he brushes my temple with a soft thumb. The moment drags on with the sweetest touch before I catch his fallen tear with my trembling lips. Against those, he whispers shakily.

‘’Can I… buy you a drink, Dream Queen?’’

A/N: Some soft, out-of-character Dream, but who’s complaining?

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radio-writes · 2 months

Note

Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?

Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)

Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.

The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.

Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)

Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat

MDNI

Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.

Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears.

As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.

You had to get away.

You couldn't get away.

You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.

You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.

You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."

You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.

Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.

That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg.

He was laughing.

He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.

You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.

Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.

Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.

Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.

At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.

You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck.

But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.

While you were scared, desperate to get away.

He was terrified, desperate to get you back.

The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.

Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.

"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.

You felt him step closer.

"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.

You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.

The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid?

Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that.

This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.

His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.

Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.

But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.

As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.

It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.

But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.

"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.

"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.

When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face.

You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh.

But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek.

"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber.

"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed.

"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.

The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.

Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.

"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.

The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.

You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.

You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.

He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you.

"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.

You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."

"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.

You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.

You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.

Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.

Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."

You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.

You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.

Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.

"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."

You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.

A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.

"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.

You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured.

"Alastor, wait—"

"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special."

"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.

One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze.

"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.

"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.

You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.

But you know how this ends.

You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.

You, of all people, knew that well.

Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.

"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.

You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.

Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.

His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.

His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.

He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.

The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.

The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.

Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.

You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.

"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.

You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.

Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.

It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.

"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.

You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script.

He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention.

"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.

The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull.

"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"

He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.

It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.

"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"

His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did.

He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.

"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.

You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.

When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.

"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery.

"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."

Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.

He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to."

His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.

His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.

"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.

You can't. But you nod your head anyway.

He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry.

Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."

But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.

He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.

He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.

Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.

He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.

Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him.

You can't leave him.

You know that now.

Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.

"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.

You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.

Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.

You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt.

"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.

"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.

You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.

"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.

"No," You responded again.

"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.

"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth

You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.

But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.

"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.

"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now."

I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪

#tw: noncon #tw: physical harm to reader #tw: forced relationship #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #smut #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #vien writes #vien answers #requests from a lovely anon #MIND THE TAGS PLEASE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

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candiedfright · 2 months

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Your dazai looks like a mii person specifically with wii graphics. It's tasty.

#bsd fanart #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #candied art #whispers from the pit #anon #no this wasn't a request #but it made me giggle

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achillean-knight · 4 months

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Part 1 - Part 2 Here you go, the final part. This is for you, Anon's who requested the continuation of this JKHGDSHGS

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harmonysanreads · 1 month

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The "darling being able to see Sunday's high-Fe social mask and avoids it" is so funny.

Because Sunday probably ends up thinking that you will be someone who he doesn't have to pretend around, he can be more free around you because you can see through him. I can even see the attraction being platonic at first before turning into something darker.

But because you can see through him, you know that there's something dangerous about him under that ethereal, beautiful appearance. There's no way you're getting yourself involved with that. Sunday simply wants someone he can be real around :')

But you keep on running away from him :')

-💅

#sunday chasing around a reader like that would be so funny #'why is the oak family's spokesperson always trailing that random person and why are they running from him?'#sunday brainrot #tbh i thought many people would request hsr this time but surprise surprise #before any of y'all think i'm procrastinating by posting memes (which i am) i'm writing your requests at my pace<3 #sunday x reader #sunday x you #this is all fun and dandy until trailblaze quest drops 💀#yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #──⚝💅anon

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tanblaque · 9 months

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"Shane has a glazed look in his eye. He won't speak to you."

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #from the Stardew Valley prompt: Something angsty with Shane requested by anon :')#shane #art

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prokrastinartiya · 2 months

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lestappen version of recent kelly and max photo part two

#lestappen #sketch #request from anon!

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fassylovergallery · 2 years

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hej, zrobisz proszę kilka avatarów z lisą origliasso i jessicą origliasso z the veronicas? ♥️ może być ten większy format. zależy mi na tym, żeby nie były to wspólne avatary (: + będę wdzięczna za kilka z jenną ortegą i jeśli to wgl możliwe to z raffey cassidy (look z "vox lux", postać młodej celeste) (: pozdrawiam!

Hej! Zrobiłam avki jedynie z Raffey. Z Jenną wykonywałam całkiem niedawno i znajdziesz je na bazarku. Nie znalazłam żadnych ciekawych fotek Lisy i Jessiki, które nadawałyby się na avatary. Jeśli takowe znajdziesz to podeślij mi je przez imgbox ♥

#anon #anonim #request from anon

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canon-gabriel-quotes · 4 months

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wear headphones :)

Wasn't expecting another one of these so soon huh.

Transcript and context under the cut

Transcription: Fuck. Goddammit. K-Ugh. *whimper* Come on...

Context: An inside joke between some people on twitter resulted in them commissioning artists to draw gabe failing at pottery and it became a trend for a bit. This is him voicing that specific scenario

Audio source (Yeah I edited it a little to make it worse. I will not apologize.)

Link to a thread of the pottery fan art. This isn't all of it but this is the only collection I can find to link to. -> Link

If anyone has more that wasn't included here feel free to drop a link in the replies :0

#ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #thank you anon for naming this one #that 'come on' okay. bottom.#eat up u animals (is also an animal myself)#im gonna delete the posts from earlier about naming it #ill leave the asks though to confuse anyone who stops by later >:)#why does he do this for the most random ass requests #its not nearly as bad if u listen to the og one im just insane and made it worse #sadly very short but with YOUR HELP you can accidentally create more :) (threat)#voice post

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rebeljyn · 10 months

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↳Bill and Frank+ Blue and Yellow for Anon

#bill tlou #frank tlou #hbo tlou #the last of us #hbo the last of us #tlou spoilers #hbo tlou spoilers #tlouhboedit #thelastofusedit #my gifs #mine #mari makes requests #request from anon

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72ww · 3 months

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what about lili and milla? feel like there’s not enough content of milla being maternal towards lili, especially with how lili’s probably spent more of her life being watched by milla in the summers at whispering rock than not

You are so so so so so right

Here re some sketches I did on that thought ^_^ Thank you for the interesting request

#Anonymous #my art #psychonauts #milla vodello #lili zanotto #in the fire pic lili was stress igniting smth but it got away from her and milla panicked and got the co2 extinguisher #milla hides the picture of her and lili because lili has tried to destroy it behind her back #when she finds out raz saw it she doesn't speak to milla for a week but starts to feel really bad after a while #YES i shouldve FLIPPED THE TEXT BUBBLES dont SPEAK TO ME!#requests #sorry anon i have been sitting on these for a realy long time but i didnt draw for ages cuz i got superly duperly sick

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hungharrington · 5 months

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jayy!! lately i’ve been thinking that steve really really likes it when you ride him. like yeah, he loves to see you on top but i feel like he loves the idea of you using him to get off yknow?? like he just wants to be your boy toy. doesn’t even care if he doesn’t cum, but gets SO WHINY and blushy when he does cause he just feels so so lucky to have you jump his bones🙌

UGH i need him like i need to BREATHE. need him to whine in my ears 24/7

-🍒

oh lawd. this one…. brain goes BRRRRRRR what did you PUT in this ask cherry…. does this fit the prompt? maybe 🤪 but it was written at work so have mercy on me

Of all the things Steve loves in the world, making you feel good? Top of the list.

That much is a given— with the fervor in which he’ll bury his face between your thighs, moans that vibrate against your cunt just right, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips rut against the bed.

When he’s determined to pull an orgasm out of you with his hands, his darkened hazel eyes drinking in every moan, desperately flicking between your blissed out expression and his fingers pumping into your cunt, covered in your slick— all of it shows in the ache in his pants, in the breathy noises he makes when you tip over the edge.

So, you’re not at all surprised at what he says to you that night — take what you want.

You’re both tangled together, haphazardly draped across the bed— too entranced in the hot press of each others mouth to think about letting go, even as you had both staggered up the stairs and into the bedroom. It had been one charged dinner date, with one hand far too comfortable sneaking up your skirt go tease you.

Now, Steve lies beneath you and when you break away, panting, to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, he’s a fucking sight to behold. Chest heaving, face flushed so much it crawls down his neck, his eyes fix on you with such an intenseness that it makes you shiver.

His shirt has been driving you crazy all dinner, undone just enough to show a flash of chest hair. Now you work it open quickly, each button revealing a little more of his glorious tanned chest, sprinkled with hair. Lust drools through you. You rake one hand down it, fingernails pressing into his skin lightly and Steve groans.

“Okay, you need to get naked, like, right now,” His hands pair with his words, finding the edge of your shirt. He’s tugging it up and your arms go up to let him pull it from your frame. His insistance makes your grin.

“Funny how you can say that when you’re still wearing pants.” You bicker back, using your now free hands to work on his belt buckle.

Steve watches you for a moment, his tummy clenches when you palm at his bulge for a moment and his head rolling back onto the duvet. He makes a pained noise. His hands form fists at his sides — just for a moment, before he’s sliding them up your thighs.

They creep beneath your skirt, finding the elastic of your panties — then one of his hands shift forward, cupping your heat tightly. You moan at the same time Steve does, his hand pressing up against your clit perfectly. He shakes his head on the bed, his hair messing up against the sheets.

“I take it back,” He whines. His hands shoot down to overtake yours, shucking his pants down his thighs as best he can. Just the thin material of his boxers remains. “I don’t think I can wait, honey, I need— you can just- please,”

“Hey, hey, I got it, I got you,” You push his hands away and Steve melts. He grows still, only his hands twitching and his neck craned up to watch as you tug his boxers down.

His cock must be aching with the way it looks, all pretty and flushed in the head, crying just for you. You can’t help yourself, giving it a quick pump, rubbing the head with your thumb.

Steve keens loudly, his body growing taut, his head thrown back. A strangled whimper tears from his throat. “Ngh- please, oh fuck, pleasepleaseplease—“

You release his cock and Steve deflates a bit, panting loudly. Your skirt takes only a second to remove and it takes another to push your panties to the side, your knees straddling across his hips. Your core burns hotly, clenching in anticipation of being filled.

You make sure Steve is watching as you hold his cock, prepped to sink down — and he is. His face, still flushed with his eyes bright, is intent on watch your own.

It makes the heat in your gut flare hotter. Hot lust sparks beneath your skin as he keeps his gaze on you for as long as he can — your hot, wet cunt sinking down on him finally forcing his eyes closed.

“Fuck, fuck— shit, don’t move just yet,” The words pour from Steve’s mouth, his eyes screwed up and head thrown back. Your hands shift forward, planting on his chest and you give him a minute— revelling in the delicious stretch his cock gives you. Fuck, it never gets old.

You lean down and kiss the closest skin you can find, his collarbone. Steve smiles, eyes still closed. His hands shift off the sheets, trailing from your thighs, your hips, up your ticklish sides, until he finds your face. His thumbs stroke over your cheeks delicately and when he pulls you closer, you follow without hesitance.

He kisses your lips, soft and sweet, and then murmurs against them. “Take what you want, baby.”

A little whine creeps out your mouth at his words and your hips follow without thinking, beginning to rock gently. A dose of lust licks up your spine and you sigh prettily.

Steve’s face shudders, pleasure rippling across his features and his eyes slip shut. His mouth drops open a little bit, the smallest noise escaping, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His eyes crinkle open, watching you closely.

“Ye- yeah, that’s it.” Steve manages to murmur. His hands haven’t left your face, still gently holding either side as you roll your hips back, slow and sensual. “Good girl.”

A gasp pushes past your lips and this time when you rock back, it’s a little more desperate. Steve moans, voice drenched in desire, and his hands fall from your face to grip the sheets. You lean on his chest further, your thighs aching deliciously as you fuck yourself on his cock— up and down, faster and faster.

“Steve,” you mewl out. It’s instinct to reach for him, to call out for him and in response, you feel the buck of his hips, pressing him deeper within you. Steve whimpers.

“You got it, honey,” He assures, voice more and more breathy. “Doing so good.”

There’s a soft squelch as you work yourself down on him, a coil of pleasure beginning to tighten up in your tummy. You feel a fiery warmth beneath your skin that spikes with every movement you make.

One of Steve’s hands comes up to cover your own, holding it tight to his chest — right over his heart and he lets the other nudge your face back to facing him. You hadn’t realised how it had begun to tilt forward, lost in your own pleasure.

“Mhm, fu- fuck, that’s my girl,” Steve whispers. You shift up to change the angle and when you fuck back down, you moan loudly — Steve writhing beneath you to contain himself from fucking up into you. You, however, show him no mercy.

“God,” Steve whines loudly. His breathes are coming out with little whimpers now. “That’s—that’s it— just fuckin’ take what you need. Take it, take it from me, baby.”

Your cunt gushes and you whimper — and you do just that.

#i didn’t make him as subby as requested i’m sorry 😭#he IS such a ‘take what u want from me’ bf cos he’s just happy to be making you feel good #GOD do i feel rusty with smut #i have no been in the mood 😭 life is too freaking busy 😭 and scary 😭#but! can’t say… i don’t try <3 #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve smut #cherry anon

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