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#charmed cw spoilers
dabblingreturns · 1 year
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So reading the excellent tags in @liesmyth 's excellent post has taken me down a few excellent rabbit holes in my own brain
And here is the first thing that came of it
I would enjoy being around coronabeth more than ianthe.....but I, as a reader, feel more confident in my understanding of ianthe than than I do of coronabeth.
I know what makes ianthe tick...first priority is always her sisters safety...next is for her own personal ambition....lastly is a fascinating need to match peoples expectationsof her. Ianthe lies for her sister.....she kills for power, and if those two dont matter she hams up her "loathsome depraved villian" act
And that third thing is what makes her the iconic creature that we know and love....most of the time we spend with ianthe is in Harrow the ninth....in that book, and for the first time in her life, ianthe's ambitions have been fulfilled and her actions can't effect coronabeth's safety. Those two core motives really only come up as her buying protection for coronabeth from Harrow via "the work" and stopping augustine from killing jod....and more importantly the nine houses at the end (and not getting killed by her teacher through the judicial employment of kinky arm surgery)
In between these events, and we get to see ianthe come into her own as the largest ham in the entire series and the best frenimes* ever......and it's great...she is loathsome.....she is the worst.....she is evoking absolutely the perfect reactions from everyone around her.
And I get that urge to be the simple problem inside the complex trap.....she is playing the class clown on her own terms.....ianthe is even worse than gideon when it comes to taking any attention as positive. Gideon only takes negative attention from Harrow....but ianthe is addicted to attention....
And I get her....don't always like her...but I get her....she's smart ambition drama queen who loves her sister..... I feel confident I know how she would jump.....
Coronabeth through....she's an enigma....she's smart....and charming and obsessive... but mostly she's a liar......
she has been betrayed, been captured, then changed sides and gained new rank and name...but she's still a habitual liar...nona notices the weirdness between Crown and pyrrha were Crown tries to give pyrrha the reaction Pyrrha expects but it's an act.
I still have no clear understanding about why Corona pretended to be a necro....was it for power? Or freedom? Or a need to be by her sister? Idk I have no idea why she joined blood of eden...was it for freedom...or revenge?....or to protect her fellow captives? Was it for her own ideals....or some long term power play that was sort of implied....
I know she has threatened to kill herself multiple times in fights with her ianthe....I know that tern was terrified that her secret would get out...I know that Crown care about judith to some extent and that her sister had some influence over her....
In short....I'd trust Ianthe to sware on corona's life....but I'm don't think I could identify anything I'd make Crown Him with Many Crowns sware an oath on.
She's a wild card. And a powerful one at that...
*I actually think Ianthe is a pretty good friend to harrow....but since neither of them no how to have a friend, frenime is the best they ate capable of.
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easyaesthetics · 1 year
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Some extremely stupid 11/20 emoji redraws
+ bonus Cognitive Joker
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winepresswrath · 1 year
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I got extremely sick and watched all of love between fairy and devil in a miserable haze and I've gotta say 1) bodyswapping at its finest 2) with slight tweaks the idiot ball did not need to be passed around so much/at all 3) the fuckup little brother industrial complex still has me in its grasp but this time I've gotta give it up for the shifufucker. they really nailed the miserable oblivion of quasi-incestuous all consuming devotion & that's not even my thing. Good job team!
#press says love story between fairy and devil#spoilers#ok I'm not going to use that#shifufucking#will be the tag for now#main ship cute but tbh I'm mad they tried to tell me she was never into second male lead#she can have had genuine romantic feelings for him and then still chosen the other guy it's FINE I promise#also everyone was passing the idiot ball around for a bit there and it made me extra annoyed because it was mostly such a charming show and#I was very invested!#and why was no one trying to bring the shifu to the goddess to be healed!!! they know she's back!#why didn't the dad try that before he tried treason?#why did wargod 2 leave moon god alone with their triple cultivation seed that is also their girlfriend?#and then with the goddess? it's so out of character#but they really sold me on the shizunfucking!#idk if that should serve as a warning or enticement to habitual shizunfucking enjoyers#i was sitting there unsure if I was queasy because of the relationship or because I was about to throw up again but compelled regardless#the best friends who love each other sincerely but will ultimately always have other priorities also got me but good#and imo really enhanced the shifufucking ship by way of adding to the tragedy of it all#great supporting cast all around! very fun#cw: forced kissing#if that is something you like I am sensitive to#but like. overall a deeply watchable trope fest with some a+ romantic moments#and pretty solid ot3 potential if you#like me#enjoy causing yourself pain by wrongship ping in every possible way
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singtotheskiies · 1 year
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DIN CUDDLING GROGU WHILE PILOTING AND CRACKING DAD JOKES……… NO SURVIVORS
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charmedcwsource · 2 years
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CHARMED | 4.12 “Be Kind. Rewind.”
AND THEN THERE WAS ONE – An alarming event triggers a drastic change in the magical universe.  Only The Charmed Ones (Melonie Diaz, Sarah Jeffery and Lucy Barrett), along with Harry (Rupert Evans) and Jordan (Jordan Donica), can save the world where humankind and magical beings co-exist…but they’ll risk their lives in the process.  Stuart Gillard directed the episode written by Blake Taylor (#412).  Original airdate 6/3/22.  
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ballisterboldheart · 2 years
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now we play a new game: hide and go seek! 🔪
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griffonsgrove · 3 months
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omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least that’s what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D
could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D
Thank you!
General Dating Headcanons | Alastor
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a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, he’s easily one of my favorite characters! I’ve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Wordcount: 1991
Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder
(PLATONIC):
Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.
Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, he’s very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). He’s got connections in just about anything. He’s bound to have at least seen you once.
That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (let’s be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)
He’s quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.
You’re well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.
It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.
The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.
And that smile…He was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~
Despite this, he’s a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. He’s able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.
And if you happen to be from the same time period?? It’ll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.
This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good ol’ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. You’ll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.
Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.
He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20’s as he goes about his day. Whether he’s out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, he’s humming.
This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where he’s pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.
He’ll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where they’ve been. You’ve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you he’ll make an exception.
Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?
As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each other’s company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.
Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. He’ll use the excuse that ‘Hell is a dangerous place!’, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!
Undeniably has a soft spot for you that he’ll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.
Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, he’s surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.
(ROMANTIC):
My man is sooo conflicted at first, He’ll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (We’ve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.
This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.
But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem Angel…
Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you. 
You’ll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried you’d reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.
Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend
He’s such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you! 
You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.
Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so he’ll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought you’d enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.
Now that you’re in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.
If there’s ever a reason he has to be away from you, he’ll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.
The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time you’re not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. He’s made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.
That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.
God forbid they touch you either. They’d be ripped in half before they could even get another word out. 
He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, it’s rather sweet really.
Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll you’ll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. You’ll have to be extremely patient with him, he’s not used to this “love” and “affection”
If you’re ever having a bad day however, he’ll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.
One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, you’ll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastor’s den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. It’s here that you truly savor these private moments with him.
Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? He’ll fall for you even more. 
Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes you’ll help him in the kitchen, even if it’s the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.
He’ll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll
Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, he’ll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.
Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that ‘Even his shadow needed some loving too!’. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.
Will have you meet Rosie at least once. She’s one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, she’s much more friendlier. 
You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.
It’s safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.
Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. He’s so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hell’s most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if you’re patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hell’s Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom
summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)
wc: 2k
cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it
note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”
“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.” 
“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”
“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort. 
“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”
“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”
“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”
“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.” 
“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”
“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”
“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”
“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”
“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?” 
“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”
“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again. 
“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”
“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent. 
“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”
“I don’t remember asking.”
“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you. 
“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”
“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.
“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.” 
A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well. 
Please get me out of this. 
Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence. 
“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”
“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.
“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”
“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”
“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen. 
“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”
“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.
“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”
“Your old man’s being an ass again?”
“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”
“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”
“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”
“You don’t think I can beat him?”
“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”
“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.” 
“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved. 
“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”
“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”
“Doll–”
“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features. 
“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”
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another-lost-mc · 7 months
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I would like to imagine that my MC recently got a reversible octupus plushie she got from human world when she visited home. The demon brothers notices the new plushie in MC's room but did not care about it until they saw it changed to the angry face.
Now, everyone of them is frantic, including Luci but his prideful self decides to keep it cool.
Who in the Devildom made MC mad? Asmo and Levi is crying. Mammon is pacing around the common room. Luci, Satan, and Belphie are seething. Beel lost his appetite.
They did not notice anything while at RAD, or when the residents from Purgatory Hall visited.
Was it because Beel ate MC's pudding, when she specifically said that she's keeping it because she will eat it as a midnight snack?
Was it Levi when he *asked* MC to watch new anime season installment, for 3 nights in a row?
Or Satan when he spam messaged MC with cat pictures?
Spoiler- It was actually Solomon who switched it to angry just to troll the demon brothers and MC though that it was not a big deal anyway 🤣
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a/n: I want one of those plushies too, they're so cute.
when mc has a reversible mood plushie | the demon brothers
0.5k words| sfw | gn!reader
cw: a bit of mischevious sleep/dream stuff in belphie's section.
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They freak out when they see your plushie is turned to the angry side and assume you're unhappy. One day they peek in your room to talk to you. They spot the little octopus plushie laying on your bed and it's flipped back to the happy side again. Yay! But wait, what did they do to make you so happy in the first place?!
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Lucifer thinks that you liked all the extra time you spent helping him with some student council business this week. You complained at the time, but was that a ruse to hide how much you enjoyed his company as much as he secretly enjoyed yours?
Mammon thinks you're his good luck charm and wouldn't you know it, he just hit it big at the casino. He has a few outstanding bills to pay off, but first he's gonna buy you something nice!
Levi gave you some extra gacha capsule toys he had duplicates of. He wasn't even sure if you liked that anime, but maybe he guessed your favourite character by accident. (After this, he's going to give you a lot of little gifts featuring a particular character whose name you don't even remember, but he looks so excited to give them to you that you can't refuse.)
Satan thinks about the books he's lent you recently and assumes curling on the sofa with a good book solved all your problems. He loves those particular books and now he's certain that you love them too. Of course you did, who else knows your taste in literature or anything else better than him? He can't wait to talk to you about them in more detail later.
The only thing Asmo can think of is that you realized a selfie of you two together on Devilgram started trending before he even noticed. Well, he's going to be taking your picture a lot more from now on. It's adorable how camera-shy you are, but he promises to keep most of them private for only the two of you to enjoy. ♡
Beel avoided a meltdown last night when the buffet he took you to threatened to cut him off. He tries really hard to keep his hunger in check when you go out together, so you must be really proud of him! Maybe he'll pick up a few dozen cupcakes at Madam Scream's as a thank-you gift...
Belphie could tell you were feeling stressed last night. His brothers just don't know how to leave you alone, do they? They bother you with their foolishness and you're too nice to say no (even though he knows your grumpy little octopus friend is a warning to them all if they don't get the hint). If he made you a little drowsy after dinner so you could go to bed early and get a good night's sleep, that's his business. He thought he was careful not to leave a trace when he visited your dreams last night too, but maybe you knew he was there all along? Well, he's happiest when he can spend time with you, awake or asleep, so it makes sense you feel the same way.
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luveline · 10 months
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𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you and miguel accidentally move in together when the girls in the spider society dorms are mean to you —a ficlet featuring a reluctantly infatuated miguel and a carefree, ditzy spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k
cw mature themes. mdni
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You're laying in Miguel's bed when he gets back to his dorm room. Or, just his room. He'll be living here for the foreseeable future. It took him some time to calibrate to seeing you among his things, in his bed, but worst of all without your suit —it's like seeing you naked. It catches him off guard every time. 
You look oddly quiet, though you aren't asleep. He knows that doesn't make any sense, that quiet isn't something you can see, but without your suit it's like stripping back a layer of chaos. In a pyjama pack from some Nueva York department store, you've little cartoon characters on your shorts, and a bigger one across your chest, the lilac purple background pretty against your skin. Your hand is tucked under your face, your phone in the other. You're swiping through a match three game with a small panda mascot that cheers, "Wā sāi!" every time you clear a line. 
You smile and click another button. Miguel bites back his own, letting the door close with a metallic shushing. 
"Hey," you say, without looking up. "Are you okay?" 
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"
"I thought asking that would get me a better answer than, 'how are you?'" 
"I'm fine." 
You laugh under your breath as he makes a beeline for his closet. "See," you say, like it's very funny, "what a useless question."
"How are you?" he asks.
He turns off his suit. Abruptly naked, Miguel is past caring if you see him. He wasn't shy to begin with, and it's nothing you haven't seen now. 
Finding you a room to stay in away from the mean girls in your dormitory turned to letting you stay with him until he had a chance to find one, which then turned to you sleeping in his bed because you'd already kissed, so what use was having you on a futon? Which turned to kissing in bed, which turned to other things. Peace, for once. Sweaty hours spent with his armed wrapped around your shoulders, your front, his face pressed into your neck. The hours after, your hands in his hair, your lilting murmuring against the shell of his ear. 
He didn't mean for it to happen.
He can't say he regrets it, either. Though it scares him. 
"Cariño?" he prompts, stepping into a pair of sweatpants.
"Sorry, what did you say?" you ask, setting your phone down on the bedside table. 
He can't be mad at the phone for distracting you. That's the whole reason he got it for you, purple and shiny and foldable, something he knew would draw and keep your attention when he's not around. You're having a hard time making friends, and there's not always stuff for you to do within the Society. It was a gift for himself as well as you, he wanted to know you weren't sitting alone in your room (his room) with nothing to do. 
"How are you?"
"I made you a charm for you phone," you say. 
You insisted he have a phone too so you could text him. He groaned, complained, grumbled, but it is the very best part of his day when he gets to turn on his stupid pink phone and see you've texted him a photo of the bedroom floor, one of your crafts in front of you, a socked foot and naked ankle in the corner of the picture. 
"That's not how you are," he says after he's pulled on a t-shirt. Miguel treks back into the main part of the room and sits at the bottom of the bed. He pulls your feet into his lap because nobody can tell him not to, quick to press a thumb into the arch of your foot. You're wearing fuzzy socks. "That's what you did. How are you? You didn't come and see me today, what's with that?" 
"Sorry, I made such a huge mess earlier I had to clean and it took hours and by the time I was done I thought I better shower." Your smile is magnetic. 
"It doesn't have to be spotless." 
"It's not my room. I'm not an asshole." 
Miguel's not used to this… anymore. And things are different with you than they'd been before: you know him for who he is, this version of him, the mean, short-tempered, spiky him, where Gabri and her mother had known someone else. Still him, still real, but different. His head aches whenever he remembers —and he remembers all of the time— but being with you helps that. You're not her, and you don't have to be. 
You know Miguel at his worst, and you like him anyway. It has to count for something. 
"It's not not your room," he says carefully, hand running up your leg to your knee. He strokes back down, a lazy back and forth. 
"I know I've overstayed," you say, "but that's your fault."
"That's my fault." 
Miguel pulls your legs down enough to make your head flop off of his pillow, hoping for a disgruntled grunt or a whined, "Miguel." You stay flopped on your back and don't say anything, to his displeasure. He sighs and pulls you bodily into his lap, scooping you up with little energy expelled. 
"I forget how strong you are," you say, in his lap like a princess carry, eyelashes kissing the skin under your brows as you look up at him. 
"How can you forget?" 
"I don't know, especially when you toss me around like a half full sack of flour. I think I have a bruise from your hand last night," you say, pulling your leg up across the other, knee away from him where you're in his lap to show him the underside of your thigh. Miguel tries not to blush at the memory, but the ghost of a dork at his core knows how salacious it is to have your girlfriend in your lap with her shorts pushed down, showcasing skin you bruised during a particularly rough moment. "Can you see? It feels sore." 
A mottling of wine-stain contusion in the shape of his hand indeed takes station at the base of your thigh. It's not bad. If you had better enhancements you'd have healed by now, but your particular spider wasn't anything special.
"Perdóname," he says under his breath, brushing over it lightly with his thumb. 
"It doesn't matter, don't be sorry, I was just wondering if it was really real." You let your leg drop heavily on top of his. Nothing but adoring shines in your eyes as you smile. "I don't care, Miguel."
"I didn't mean to–" 
"I know." 
He lifts his chin as you sit up in his lap. You kiss his neck, his jaw, and the skin below his ear, your smile audible as you murmur, "I liked it. I kind of like having the bruise, too. Don't feel bad." 
He'd felt the opposite of bad in the moment. "You're sure I didn't hurt you?" he asks quietly. 
He doesn't look down, can't, not until he knows. You comb your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "I'm sure," you say. "As if you could." 
"Oh, is that how it is?" he asks, trying hard not to laugh. 
"That's so how it is." 
He finally faces you again, pretending like he might gear up for a fight. He holds your gaze, brows set, eyes severe. "Show me the charm you made me," he demands. 
You laugh through your nose and climb out of his lap. "You're gonna love it. It looks like a jellyfish." 
He can't imagine how having a jellyfish charm hanging from his phone will go down with the girls, but he finds he doesn't mind. Having something you made with your own two hands is too special to pass up. 
“I made one for myself, too,” you say, digging through your box of beads to find the charms you made. You turn around holding both to your chest, your pride endearing.
“Yours isn't on your phone.”
You flicker with an uncharacteristic bashfulness. “Well, I only wanted to have them if we both had them, and I don't know if you’re okay with having one. It’s sort of loud.”
“If loud bothered me, you’d know by now,” he teases. He holds out his hand, gesturing when you don’t take it. “Come on, come back. Show me how to put it on my phone case.”
All his added sweetness is worth it to feel your smile as you clamber back into the space between his thighs and duck your face into his neck, hugging him quickly, arms thrown around his neck. “You’re the best,” you say quietly. 
He really doesn’t feel like it, but hearing you say it is a load off. He relaxes under your weight, thinking your shared cohabitation might be one of the best accidents he's ever had. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!! if you did and you have the time, please think about reblogging <3
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vilhelios · 3 months
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— I THINK I LOVED YOU IN ANOTHER LIFE .
( WHERE I WAS THE SEA, & YOU WERE THE SHORE . ) ; general fluffy romantic headcanons for rafayel / qi yu from love and deepspace <3
CW: not beta read, general rafayel story/lore spoilers, may be slightly ooc, tooth-rotting fluff, very slight angst !!!
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— RAFAYEL is a terribly sweet, loyal, and affectionate lover. sometimes, you think he is something like a lovesick puppy—always ready to greet you at the door with a warm hug when you return from a mission, always eagerly awaiting your phone calls and texts. always at your side. when he calls you darling and holds you close, burrows his head into the crook of your neck, you can't help but feel like your being has been warmed by a pleasant summer sunbeam.
despite this, sometimes he feels like he's drifting somewhere far away from you. a receeding ocean tide, sea foam dissolving from your fingertips as you dip your hands in the waves. he's somewhere you don't understand, when he looks into your eyes and searches for an iteration of you in the reflected image of his own eyes—perhaps he is 800 years away, a lifetime and more. and yet, when you gingerly cup his face in your palms, feel him lean into your touch, you know he returns to you.
— RAFAYEL'S art studio is admittedly, a mess. there are days where you'll enter that room spotless and leave with splatters of some new shade of red and his beloved blues all over your clothes and skin. some days, this happens purely on accident—a trip right into a canvas here, a palm pressed onto wet paint there—and on others, rafayel seems to delight in using you as a canvas.
— when RAFAYEL kisses you (in that gentle fashion, where he cups your cheek like if he doesn't you'll slip like seafoam from his hold), those soft lips of his taste of cherries and grapes and strawberries. and perhaps that best encapsulates what loving rafayel is like, this sweetest red, red, red: the way his cheeks and ears flush when you press a kiss to his cheek; the colour of his eyes when the morning's rose-gold sunlight hits the pink in them just right; the bleeding, beating heart he offers to your awaiting hands. eventually, he pulls away to let the both of you breathe, and when he presses his forehead against yours, glances at you with that charming smile of his, you're enveloped in warm crimson all over again.
"there." rafayel smiles, leans back to admire the flamulla he'd painted on your cheek and the pout that graces your lips. "a cute flamulla for the cutie that keeps distracting me."
"you weren't even painting anything when i came in!" you scoff, dabbing the paintbrush he'd given you into the paint upon the palette. while he painted moon jellies, flamulla, and blowfish on your skin, you'd busied yourself with painting seashells on his. some of the clamshells are too close together, the venus combs look a little too spiky, and some conches don't look quite right. when he looks like he's about to chuckle at the sight of them, you poke him with the other end of your brush; "hmph. you're just a meanie."
"how rude!" he feigns, hand to his heart. "this is how you treat me for making you look like one of my most precious paintings?"
— you notice, eventually, that RAFAYEL always gifts you red jewelry (if not pearls, of course). the little treasures glint in the sunlight; rings with a ruby or red spinel centerpiece, a necklace with a red coral pendant, fire opal earrings... they're beautiful and never gaudy, as to be expected from a man with an eye for aesthetics, but it still perplexes you.
you ask him why, while he helps you put on his most recently gifted necklace as you two get ready to attend his aunt's opera show. your painter answers with a thoughtful hum, deft fingers clasping the necklace for you: "red disappears the fastest in the deep sea, so i never got to see it much." rafayel presses a kiss to your cheek, then, before settling his chin on the crook of your neck. "what better way to appreciate a colour i missed out on for so long than seeing it on you, darling?"
— RAFAYEL'S smug and haughty countenance seems to crumble at the mere press of your lips against his skin, little pecks gracing each beauty mark. the first kiss is placed on his cheek, a little ways away from his eye, his head cradled in your palms; you feel how he heats up beneath your touch, a light blush dusting across his cheeks and a bright vermillion burning at the tips of his ears. the second is placed on his chest, your lips and gentle, roaming hands sparking the rapid thrumming of his heart.
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— RAFAYEL sees you in everything. in the morning sunlight that filters into his kitchen, in the cherry blossoms that land on his hair, in the sea breeze that rushes past him as he walks along the shore. the mundane of daily life has become filled with so many traces of you that he cannot see them as anything other than beautiful. there's a piece of you in every one of his paintings now, a streak of your favourite colour intertwined with his reds and blues. he made the pigment himself, of course, extracted the colours he needed from your favourite things.
THE LOVERS ; Rafayel (20XX) ; Oil on canvas
This painting consists of only two colours, and depicts the view of a simple shoreline, with waves lapping at the shore. Although simple in essence, the two paints were handmade (as is the norm for pieces by Rafayel) with pigments extracted from materials that represented himself and his beloved. Upon closer inspection, one may notice the difference in brushstrokes between colours—where they start to blend, so do the strokes, perhaps one hand guiding the other. As per the words of the painter himself, this artwork is meant to represent a "marriage and a transfiguration; the way two souls are forever intertwined and changed by love."
a/n : pretty privilege is real because rafayel acts a lot like marius but i like him infinitely more than i do lu jinghe 😭👍 my love/obsession for this pretty little fish has made me rise from the grave of uni work and writer's block... please fill his tag i need to satisfy this itch in my brain that he gives me <\3 might write some more for him + him as abysswalker <3 (p.s. that final hc is perhaps the cutest thing i thought to do)
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What is actually happening with this season?
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charmedcwsource · 2 years
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CHARMED | 4.13 “The End is Never The End”
SERIES FINALE – In the epic season finale, Mel (Melonie Diaz), Maggie (Sarah Jeffery) and Kaela (Lucy Barrett), along with Harry (Rupert Evans) and Jordan (Jordan Donica), have now discovered that the cabal of foes coalescing to bring down the Power of Three are actually working for an ancient evil that’s been laying dormant since the dawn of magic. This powerful dark force — known as the Lost One — will be the ultimate test of the strength of the newly discovered sisterhood; forcing them to rekindle their connection…or face the destruction of magic itself.  Kevin Dowling directed the episode written by Jeffrey Lieber and Nicki Renna (#413).  Original airdate 6/10/22.
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griffonsgrove · 3 months
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Hi I saw your request for Hazbin Hotel I watched it and I'm simping for Alastor and was wondering if you could do Alastor x fem or gn reader where Alastor uses his radio static like white noise to calm down the reader when they have sensitivity overload or a panic attack or just to destress sorry if this is worded bad
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Radio Static || Alastor x GN!Reader
a/n: Hiya!! This was a super sweet request to make! I myself get easily overwhelmed, especially with big groups of people, and it's comforting to finally get away from all the noise and interactions! Please enjoy this cute little oneshot! Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Wordcount: 691 Cw: minor hazbin spoilers
It had nearly been a week since Sir Pentious was welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel, by none other than the princess of hell, Charlie. She had decided to throw a small little get-together to celebrate. The princess had such an eccentric, bubbly personality, it was hard to ever say no to her. You were never one for parties, your sensitivity to the constant noise, the vibrant colors, and the chaotic atmosphere sometimes became too much to bear. It was during one of these moments that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, noticed your distress.
You had retreated to a quiet corner, trying to find solace in the midst of the infernal commotion. Alastor, ever perceptive to the emotions swirling around him, followed you with a keen interest. Seeing the subtle signs of your discomfort, he decided to offer an unconventional remedy.
Alastor approaches you with his trademark grin, his red eyes gleaming with an unusual warmth. "Why, what seems to be the matter, my dear?" he inquired, his voice holding that dazzling charm he always seems to have. You struggled to find the words, but the overwhelmed expression on your face spoke volumes. Sensing your need for relief, Alastor's grin widened, with the wave of his hand, he quietly motions for you to follow him. "Come now, don't you worry. I have just the thing for such occasions." He abruptly turns on his heel, delving deeper into the depths of the hotel.
You’re skeptical at first, but willing to try anything at this point, you decide to follow him. He leads you down a series of hallways, the sounds of the other patrons begin to slowly fade away as you walk. He stops in front of an intricately carved door; you didn't have much time to admire the craftsmanship before he opens it. You tilt your head to the side to peer over his shoulder. It seemed to be his private den. There's a little sitting area, in front of a small fireplace, which was adorned with all sorts of knickknacks, the most notable being a large rack of antlers mounted on the wall above, but what caught you off guard completely was the other entire half of his room, it was a swamp! Literally, the wood flooring splintered off into lush grass, and numerous cypress trees can be seen looming in the distance, the trunks covered in a thick moss. 
Alastor steps to the side, politely gesturing for you to enter first. With slight hesitancy, you step inside quietly, taking note of all the framed pictures that hung on the wall.
His voice cuts through the silence "Sit, my dear. Allow me to ease your troubled mind," he motions to one of the empty padded chairs. You oblige, sitting down on the plush cushion. With the snap of his fingers, He conjures up his vintage radio, the static already emitting a soothing white noise. For a moment he fiddles with the dial, adjusting the frequency. Soft static filled the air, drowning out the overwhelming sounds from earlier. At first, it seemed odd, but as the white noise enveloped you, a surprising sense of calm washed over.
Alastor sat across from you, his eyes never leaving your face as he observed the way you slowly sank back into the padded chair. The radio static acted as a protective cocoon, shielding you from the sensory onslaught. His presence was oddly comforting, and you found yourself relaxing under the influence of the unusual but effective remedy.
The two of you sit in a comfortable silence. You weren't entirely sure how much time had passed, minutes? hours?, the static acting as a barrier between you and the chaotic world. Alastor broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "Remarkable, isn't it? The power of a little radio magic."
You managed a grateful smile, genuinely appreciating the respite he provided. It was an unexpected yet strangely effective solution to your sensitivity overload. As the static continued its comforting hum, you felt a sense of gratitude toward the Radio Demon who, in his own peculiar way, had offered you a moment of peace in the midst of the Hotel’s pandemonium. You remind yourself to apologize to Charlie later for leaving the party so abruptly.
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You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.
This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!
~
Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.
Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?
Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.
You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."
You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.
You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."
Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."
You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."
"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"
"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."
"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.
"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."
That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"
"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."
Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"
You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.
"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.
Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."
"Well in that case..."
And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.
Little star, so bright and fierce,
Beautiful with eyes that pierce,
But that's not all there is,
He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,
Charming and witty, a wish come true,
If only the rest of the world knew.
Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.
And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.
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