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#is it cannon he needs glasses
deadmansbistro · 5 months
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feeessshhh 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
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aphsillyos · 19 days
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silly lil designs for pf ez and aphelios blending into piltover :]
#me arts tag#i was going to draw smth a bit more substantial but i need a nap :'D#the monocle and glasses are just their visors disguised somehow#and the weird half vest? design for ezreal.. i imagine half of it tears off/opens (like buttons or smth)#to accommodate his arm cannon transforming. actually i imagine both their outfits kinda work like that#tearaway clothes for their pulsefire equipment somehow#although im imagining the pulsefire tech might be able to make some illusion/disguise clothes.. transforming tech? who knows#realistically im sure aphelios would cover up the glowing marks on his face but it also looked odd w/o his face markings so i just left em#ezreal monocle doesnt look as silly as i thought... maybe he should wear one normally#im meh on aphelios's coat design but maybe ill rerereredesign into oblivion... LOL#wanted to give him more of like a pilot jacket originally but idk what his vibe is. goofy lil guy. what fashion even suits you#OH.... I GUESS. HE NEEDS HIS SCARF.... ill fix it at some point probably maybe sure#i think it'd be a bit funny if ezreal is unintentionally a fashion/style person#just bc of how much blending in with timelines and worlds and stuff hes done#he just ended up absorbing so much fashion knowledge#aphelios or ekko points it out at some point and hes like. huh. im not into fashion#(said while reading a hefty book on fashion history for whatever location theyre at)#yeah im sure PEARL probably has built in search engine stuff#but ezreal just strikes me as the type of guy to research and memorize/learn stuff#''just in case i lose access to PEARL's database again'' or whatever#im sure thats probably happened like 100 times#so random but i feel like aphelios has the vibe of a guy you wanna dress up in various outfits#but also hes like :) (just happy to be included/present) so he doesnt mind#you put a goofy souvenir shop floppy hat on him and hes like. :)#my aphelios hcs are nonsense im so sorry. i want him to be happy#pulsefire ezreal#pulsefire aphelios#pulsefire#aphelios#ezreal
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starlytenight · 2 years
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So Vladimir has a magic ability where a random ability come out for him, and the corrupted copy thing adds to his rolodex. Guy hit the jackpot with ability things.
Kiiind of! There's a catch to this seemingly amazing combo.
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Every skill he learns or has naturally is in a roulette. He can stop it whenever he wants and his Dark Matter helps him with the timing of it. Usually 9.5/10 times he will get the Ability/spell/skillset he wants, but when he's tired or a little out of it the chances go lower and he might summon the wrong thing. This has happened a few times in the story.
His defaults/presets come from his messy genepool and his Miracle Matter daddy. He cannot gain any more true Abilities beyond what MM has given him.
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Also not all his skills are made equal. He strongly prefers using Ice even though his strongest should be Spark (Thanks to Sparkelle.) His Fire is weak and he hasn't had much practice with anything else on his wheel, so he's not 100% perfect at those.
When it comes to skills that aren't from Abilities, like Meta's form or his learned sword fighting, or even offering to get Galacta's old English to talk to him, he can copy those types of skills and use them for himself but he needs to Share/Face-to-Face to get something new like that. He can't say copy Cypha's Fire to overwrite his own or copy ESP which he doesn't have.
He can't copy true Abilities.
The more he also copies, the more gets tacked onto his roulette, which can mess up the timing if he gets too much at once and he would have to relearn how to nail that sweet timing which can mean life or death in a battle.
So it's like a double edged sword. Very strong in concept, but not perfect in practice.
Another glaring weakness is how fragile he actually is. Yes, he has decent stamina, but damn if this poor boy isn't often sidelined from some injury or another that hits him easy. He gets physically broken a lot.
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Vladimir was designed to counter the prophesized Kirby so he was engineered with these wild ideas in hopes of him being powerful enough to take care of this fabled thing. Obviously, Nightmare didn't account for his attitude. (Probably should have been nicer to him)
His natural inclination toward magic and the Dreamscape is spoiler territory, but it is part of his messy genepool. He does perform actual spells from time to time--they are on his wheel as well but sometimes he would rather just say the words because it's either faster or he doesn't have good mastery of whatever it is and needs it to not suck as badly.
In essence: The wheel gives him instant use but it's whatever it lands on and timing is crucial. Spells require time but would be certainly what he's after; he weighs these two and usually goes for the wheel.
Vladimir is horribly addicted to testing his wheel as a gambler and gets a thrill from using it, so he's gotten good at it. xD He usually has to go out of his way to do things the old fashioned way.
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considering that i'm built for speed and stealth, my romantic partner should be built for strength & durability
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anemocrystalflys · 19 days
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he Will be mine
i already lost the 50/50 so its guaranteed too
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vox-off · 28 days
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finally got my 60 card izzet spellslinger deck put together and ohohohohohoho man
13 creatures. 8 card draw cantrips. 18 lands. the rest is Hate
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foxstens · 2 years
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tactics is my favourite stat oh my fucking god
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Switching gears, thinking about how I only make Alim a spellblade sometimes and typically default to a blaster mage who's maybe not too afraid of close range combat.
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vxmpyse · 2 months
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Miguel O Hara as your husband head cannons!
nsfw and sfw
———————————————Sfw Head cannons
!husband Miguel o Hara who would wake up every morning and never get tired of the view of you sleeping peacefully in that beautiful elegant night dress that showed of each and every one of your curves.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would learn everything about your country and your culture just for you. He would make sure to plans trips to your home country and even cook foods from your country as a surprise.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would randomly take your face in his palms and kiss all over it, never missing a single spot and reminding you of his never ending love for his girl. His world, his princess and his everything.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would always try to spend time with you. Because of his job as spiderman, it was difficult to spend much time with him. Sometimes, he would miss breakfast or dinner or even be gone the whole day because of his duties as spiderman. However !husband Miguel o Hara always made sure to make it up to you. Whether it was taking you out for a romantic date night or staying at home binge watching your favorite movies while stuffing your faces with food, he always made sure to keep you happy.
!husband Miguel o Hara who treats you like a princess, his princess. Thirsty? A full glass of water already on nightstand just for you. Hungry? Say what you want and there he is already on his way making it or ordering it for you. He always makes sure your needs are fulfilled. On your menstrual cycle? He’s already taking the pads/tampons, from the drawer you had, out and handing it to you. While also bringing you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen you may need for cramps. He already is prepared for any mood swings you might have. While you sleep in bed, he’s secretly in the corner store beside your guys apartment, buying a bunch of your favorite chocolate and a large teddy bear which usually ends on the floor from the amount he has bought you so far. At least 50.
!husband Miguel o Hara who immediately uses his watch to create a portal back to you if you need anything while he’s working. For example, one time you were walking on the streets of Nueva York at night after buying some snacks from the deli, a man then suddenly had grabbed you and was threatening you. Miguel almost immediately got a sensation of you in need of help and he, in an instant, dropped everything he was doing and teleported there. Let’s just say, that man didn’t get to see another day of light.
NSFW head cannons
Remember that period head cannon? Let’s not forget he’s a vampire. If your ever horny and in need of his touch while on your period, he wastes no time to spread your legs wide open, pulling down your cute little panties and eating out your pussy like a vampire in need of blood. He licks and swirls his tongue all around your poor swollen clit for hours. And sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, he will not hesitate to finger your tight little hole, overstimulating your poor cute pussy.
Talking about periods, let’s talk about ovulation week. Your most needy week. Miguel’s favorite week. He wastes no time on fucking you when you ask for it. If he’s working, he will most definitely let you sit on his lap but that almost always turn into you riding him. And let’s just say that when your on ovulation week, riding him is like riding a horse. Up and down, taking him in fully. His cock is around 8-9 inches and that’s when it’s soft. When it’s hard, it’s a tremendous 11 inches. Usually you would only be able to take around 6-8 inches but on ovulation week? You were a whole different person, being able to take him balls deep. Each bounce making a plap sound. He would try to focus on his work but each and every bounce just weakened him making him eventually give in and thrust his hips up, making the thrusts deeper and deeper.
!husband Miguel o Hara always makes you cum first before fucking you. He’s always putting you first whether it’s eating you out, or fingering you. But sometimes, he comes home from work and he can’t help it. His cock painfully hard and all he can think about is the feeling of your tight pussy, clenching around his hard needy cock. That doesn’t mean he isn’t gentle with you though. He always makes sure to make sure you don’t feel pain unless, your kinky like that😉
!husband Miguel o Hara who just can’t help himself when you wear those small little skirts that show off your ass and your wet panties. You would be walking around the house, cleaning the counters in the kitchen and there he is behind you. It starts by him wrapping his arms around your waist and mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, to him grinding against you, making you feel the hard erection against your plush thigh, to him already bending you over, your skirt on the floor and your panties to your knees as he fucked you dumb, making you forget about whatever part of the kitchen you were cleaning.
Sometimes when he couldn’t come home from work from too many anomaly reports. And when he was desperate for you, that mostly resulted in phone sex. It would start off with sweet talk and somehow, just 5 minutes later, there the two of you were, guiding each other while lewd noises were heard in the background of each others voice. Miguel was more of a groaner than a moaner and hearing his groans had always sent you over the edge. Each thrust and stroke that was heard through the phone had sent you above.
You cannot tell me Miguel doesn’t have pubic hair. I just know he definitely has a patch of black curly hair just like the hair on his scalp right above his long wand. He definitely has a dad bod too. His cock having multiple bulging veins surrounding it, especially when he was hard. His balls were very heavy, making it almost impossible to hold when you were blowing him.
Miguel was the type of guy that did not give an absolute shit about your body. Thick, skinny, chubby? He will still fuck you dumb. Chubby just means that when you sat on his face it would feel like a marshmallow on his face as he ate you out like a starved man. Skinny just means he could easily change positions with you, turning you in all directions as he fucked you in all holes, making a wet mess. Thick just means mirror sex. Him fucking your tight pussy hard, making you unable to word out anything as the only sounds that came out your mouth were moans and whimpers. He would use one hand to rub your swollen clit with an inhumanly pace and his other hand went to your breasts cupping one while watching the other bounce in the mirror. Overall, Miguel doesn’t care about your body type. He loves you in every form,shape and color.
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I hope yall liked this. It took me a while soo pls don’t let this flop-
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mykneeshurt · 1 year
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Hello! I was wondering what you think 141 & Alejandro, König & Rudy’s reactions be if their partner tried to get out of bed after a very spicy night & ended up falling/couldn’t walk?😳 Also yes I’m over 18😂
Of course!! My first ever head cannon! Apologies about Gaz and Rudy I don’t really read any fics on them, hence why they’d so short 🙈 I hope they’re ok! Hehe - I’ve tried to keep this Gender Neutral, if something needs changing tell me so I can fix it! ❤️
Price 🥃
He would be loving and attentive. Price would run you a warm bath, and as you soaked your aching body in the hot water he’d make you a strong cup of tea. 2 sugars.
You struggled walking to the bath, your knees wobbling, your thighs aching, small bruises littered you skin. He’d watch you as you walked to the bathroom, your hips swaying back and forth hypnotising him.
Price would then join you in the bath, he’d sit behind you, caressing your shoulders. Peppering your skin with light healing kisses. He’d check in on you, constantly. ‘You alright love?’ … ‘god, you took me so well’
He’d lean you back against his chest, kissing your forehead, whispering praises to you. He’d slowly work his way down to your aching core, massaging your inner thighs.
‘You feel so tense love. Let me help.’
Price would hand you your tea, letting you sip it slowly, savouring the taste as he caressed your chest. He’d plan the day for you, to take your mind off the ache, the pleasurable pain. Walk the dog in the country side, find a quiet tree he could kiss you against, before returning home where he could cook for you. Worship you.
Before starting all over again.
Ghost 💀
Riley would tease you, degrade you slightly, ‘couldn’t take my cock huh?’ … ‘pathetic.’ You knew he didn’t mean it, you got off of degradation from him.
He’d make small gestures to show he cares, breakfast in bed. A back massage. Firm slow kisses on your swollen lips from the night before. Caressing and squeezing your neck, something to distract you from the pleasurable pain you felt.
If you got out of bed your knees would be weak and wobbly, earning you your new pet name ‘Bambi.’ He’d throw you over his shoulder and slam you back on the bed. ‘Stay.’
He’d work you up, again. Making you want him despite the pain you felt from him fucking you the night before. You’d beg, plead and whimper for him take you again. You’d drag your nails along his bare muscular back, pleading for him to take you again.
He’d bruise your skin, holding himself back from fucking you again. He wanted you. Needed you. But he knew you needed to rest, heal, so he could have his way with you once more.
‘Careful love, sure you could take me again?’
Soap 🧼
Wee John, oh he would worry, worry he’d hurt you, but be low key proud at how well you took him. Deep, fast, hard.
‘You were so good for me hen.’ … ‘fuck you felt so good, so tight.’
He wouldn’t let you leave the bed, he’d keep you tucked into him as he cradled your face. Checking in on you constantly. Needing reassurance he didn’t hurt you too much, despite seeing you waddle to the toilet. Now that made him chuckle.
He’d whisper bad jokes to you to ease the burn you felt, he’d make you laugh to distract you. ‘Why did the beach blush? - because the sea-weed.’
He’d explore your body with his fingers, teasing you as he made his way to your aching centre. ‘Fuck off Johnny, it’s so sore.’ He’d secretly smirk to himself feeling somewhat proud, he did tell you he’d ruin you. And yet you didn’t believe him, till now.
Gaz 🇬🇧
Gaz would worship the ground you walked on for the entire day. All the chores? Done. All the cooking? He’s cooking what ever you want. Bath? Consider it run with essential oils, a glass of wine ready and your favourite candles.
‘You alright babe?’ He’d ask as you hiss when standing up. You’d kiss him sweetly, reassuring his lil head that you’re fine.
Losing your balance because your knees are so weak would cause him to giggle endlessly. ‘Fuck are you giggling at’ you’d snap throwing a pillow at him, grinning. ‘Never thought I’d see you so weak in the knees for me’ he winked.
Rudy ❤️
Rudy. What a sweetheart. He’d make you the finest hot chocolate, made from cocoa beans he brought from Mexico. The thickest whipped cream as well as mini marshmallows. Of course.
He’d put your favourite film on and you’d snuggle up on the sofa all day. ‘Eres tan hermosa’ he’d whisper to you as you buried your head in his chest. - you’re so beautiful
Stroking your head he’d check in on you ‘estas bien?’ - you ok?
As you’d lay there he’d be thinking about the positions he had you in the night before. Bent over the bed, at his mercy. He’d slowly become hard thinking about it. Your moans echoing in his memory.
Feeling unable to hold himself anymore he’d guide your lips to his as he devoured you in a moment of intense passion.
Alejandro 🌹
Alejandro would be on you again as soon as you opened your eyes. Pulling you into his embrace, intertwining your limbs together once more.
‘Te necesito mi amor’ he’d whisper into your neck ‘eres como una droga para mi.’ His sultry voice washed over you as his hands massage your skin.
He’d pepper you with kisses, with praise at how well you took him last night. How much he needed to feel you again. To feel you become a liquid beneath his as your moans injected themselves into his veins.
Wiggling out of his grasp you’d try and go to the toilet, but your knees were weak, muscles sore and tense. Losing your balance he’d be by your side within seconds. ‘Mi amor, let me help you.’
Pulling you in he’d place a lingering kiss on your lips before carrying you bridal style to wherever you needed to go.
König ✨
Definition of ‘lady in the streets a freak in the sheets.’ Wee man struggles with his anxiety in social situations but not when it’s just the two of you.
This man is obsessed with you, hence why you cannot walk this morning. You tried getting up to go to toilet but you knees gave out. You collapsed in a pile on the floor in a fit of laughter.
The mountain of a man peered over the side of the bed at you ‘mein Schatz’ he murmurs, smirking. Adoration in his eyes. He offers you his arm to help you up, before rolling you into him.
His huge arms keeping you trapped against his chest. You giggle against him, your ass bounces slightly against his cock. ‘Careful Liebling’ he growls into your ear.
He places a possessive kiss to your temple muttering words of love and praise in German to you.
He takes you to the shower, over his broad bulky shoulders and puts you gently into the tub. Leaving you to shower he quickly gets dressed and faces his demons to go to the local shop. On his return he presents you with a small bunch of flowers and your favourite hot drink.
You’re thrilled and surprised ‘König?! Are you ok? Did you manage?’ You chirp, a huge smile on your face. Pride swelling within your chest.
He found it difficult but he’d do anything for you, anything to see your face light up for him.
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.
Word count: 2,072
Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years
Master list link:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Make You Wish Master List
A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.
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Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.
Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.
"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"
Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.
"Yes, we will." she confirmed.
"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."
"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."
"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."
Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.
"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."
He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.
"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.
"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."
"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"
"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."
"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.
"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"
Alastor's grin widened.
"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."
"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.
Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.
"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.
"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"
"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.
"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.
"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.
He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.
"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"
He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.
"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."
Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.
"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."
"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.
"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"
"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.
----
"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."
Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.
"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.
The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.
"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.
"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"
Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.
Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.
"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"
"Yeah?" Husk grunted.
"Where did you say she was again?"
"I didn't."
Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.
"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.
Husk sighed.
"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."
"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.
"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."
"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."
Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.
"Alastor, ju-"
Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.
"Best of luck, chums!"
"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.
Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.
Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.
Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.
"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.
"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.
"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"
With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.
Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.
There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?
----
Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.
Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.
The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.
She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.
"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."
Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.
"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.
"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.
"Get your ass out here!"
"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"
"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.
If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.
"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."
----
Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion
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lingering-42-long · 11 months
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141 + extra when they get home from war
Y’all be too much lol. This is my third head cannon and the Mother’s Day one is still on the top of the likes list and I don’t know why like that one was my trash one and everything else I like put time and effort into. It’s like offering people a gourmet meal or Ramen noodles with chicken nuggets, lol I’m glad everybody does enjoy my Content though, and I hope that you all enjoy this one as well!
COD x Female Character
Warnings: PG-13, mentioning of sex, fluff, suggestion of angst
Captain John Prince
• when he gets home, he’s usually pretty tired.
• Don’t be alarmed if he just wants to sleep when he gets home.
• Usually you pick him up from the airport and he will load in his bags with a grunt and say that he could really use some good sleep.
• He smells like gun powder and dirt, even though he just took a shower.
• When he gets home, he will give you a kiss, then head off to bed no matter what time of day it is.
• He’s just that tired.
• When he wakes up the first thing he does is go back over to you and give you a proper kiss and a proper greeting.
• Make sure that you have some food for him. He’s going to be hungry, and he really needs some thing that’s more sustainable than MREs.
• He wants to hear about your life and what you’ve been up to while he’s been at work.
• Listening to you talk is one of his favorite past times and it helps him relax. Sitting in front of the couch while watching some TV show while you’re rambling on about the past months and about what you’ve been up to really brings a smile to his face.
• He likes to catch up on his reading.
• This man enjoys reading with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of bourbon.
• If you’ve picked out a new book for him to read, he will be gladly appreciate of of it.
• But most importantly, he would want you to be in his lap while he’s reading, but if you don’t like the smell of cigar smoke near your face, he will make sure not to smoke near you.
Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
• Simon comes home as Ghost.
• The persona of a vengeful wraith and the shell of a once human is what your are graced with.
• He is very quiet, very solemn, and very cold.
• This is because he’s just dealing with his PTSD.
• He needs time to heal from recent encounters. This can take as little as one week to as long as three months.
• After badgering him enough times, to go see a therapist, he obliges.
• Though he’s pretty cranky about it.
• Give him space. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself, especially with the nightmares raging through his mind.
• His nightmares are so vivid that it can be hard to distinguish Friend or foe.
• This is due to the fact that he needs to be working or else those vile thoughts come hunting him.
• He will never tell you about what goes on while he’s away.
• Once Ghost disappears, Simon takes his place.
• The poor broken man is just tired, and he just wants to lay next to you and hear about your day or months.
• Once you become stable enough, he begins to be more active around the house instead of just brooding in the bedroom.
• He hast to keep himself busy at all times.
• No rest for the wicked.
• Hast to sleep with a lamp on.
• Even though he seems harsh around the outside, he loves you deeply, and that’s why he separates himself from you for a certain time.
Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish
• Opposite of Ghost, Johnny is so excited to see you!
• As soon as he gets off the airplane, he runs over to you!
• This man is all over you before you even see him!
• He starts asking you 1 million questions about how your months have been and what’s been going on with his family and any news on the recent football (soccer) matches.
• You actually have to calm him down because he’s all over the place.
• When you get into the car, he is kissing you all over your face.
• This man has enough energy to run to the moon and back, and it shows.
• He’ll try to take you right there if only he wasn’t in a car confined by a seatbelt
• Johnny is quick to help around the house and do whatever task you need to do.
• He says he’s making up for lost time.
• If you’ve decorated the house in a new way, he will always compliment what you’ve done to it.
• Johnny wakes up early in the morning and practically begged you to join him on a hike.
• It could be down pouring for all he cares about but he really wants to be with you while he’s working out.
• He will bring you back a souvenir probably something stupid like a rock or a jar of sand.
• If he gets any scars, he shows you and starts pointing them out and tells you the story about each and everyone of them.
• He won’t go into great detail about how gruesome the battling was.
• He wants you to be in his life every step of the way, even if you’re at home.
Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
• Kyle is grinning from ear to ear when he sees you!
• He’s not as hyper as Johnny, nor is he a stoic as his captain.
• He has the perfect mix between excited and tired
• When you to get home, he says that you two should just order pizza and he’s dying to play a video game with you even if he’s a little tired.
• Kyle doesn’t go into a lot of detail about his work. He’ll just make an occasional gesture about what he saw what he did.
• Like soap, he’ll bring you back a souvenir.
• He actually takes time with his souvenir shopping though, and we’ll go to local markets installs to actually pick you out some thing that you might like.
• Happy to be with you and glad to be away from the fighting.
Commander Alejandro Vargas
• When he comes home, his first instinct is to drop his bags by the door, and bring you into a warm and passionate kiss and hug.
• As much as he loves his job and all of his soldiers and team, some thing about being at home with you makes him feel truly loved.
• He may be tired, but he still going to serenade you like it’s his last day on earth.
• If you haven’t started making dinner yet, he will help and participate with whatever you’re doing. He may be tired, but he’s never tired for you.
• He loves watching you move around the house.
• He’s not going to deny it, but you wearing his clothes and cooking dinner with him really turns him on.
• After dinner, he may propose a night in bed to you.
• This man serenades you in sex especially after he’s been away for a long time
• Physical touch is his love language, and he loves being with you.
Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
• Like his commander, when he comes home, all he wants to do is drop his bags and immediately embrace you and a warm hug while rubbing your head and whispering how much he’s missed you.
• He also wants to help you cook dinner, or do some thing, but if you go, tell him to take a shower and to relax, he won’t deny that he needs it.
• Rudy loves reading a book with you so after dinner he will want to skip the washing dishes and ask if you would like to read with him before going to bed. No matter what time it is in the day. If he’s tired enough, he will once to at least read a little bit before falling asleep.
• Once he’s asleep, the bags underneath his eyes seem to disappear. He knows you’re close and he knows that you’re safe and that’s all that he could ever ask for to make him happy.
König
• As soon as he gets off the airplane and sees you amongst the crowd of people, his anxiety stops, and he immediately makes his way to you.
• He can’t sleep on an airplane, but as soon as he’s in the car, he’s about ready to doze off. You have to remind him not to though, because waking him up or trying to drag him out of the car is near impossible.
• He is really trying hard not to pass out in the car.
• Once he gets home, he stumbles into the kitchen looking for a nice tall glass of water to drink, and a sandwich or two to eat.
• Make sure that you keep the sandwiches stocked.
• This man will then make his way to the bedroom, take a cold shower, get into some warm PJs, and then slip into bed.
• Once he’s asleep, he will stay in his hybernation for roughly 3 days.
• He will only wake up to use the restroom, get a drink of water, or to eat some thing.
• When his mind is on the battlefield, he rarely puts himself into a sleep state, but when he’s at home, it’s like all of the hours that he missed, sleeping or suddenly compiled in a single week.
• Just let him rest, and sooner or later, he’ll wake up from his hibernation, and will seek you out so that he can give you kisses and hugs and ask how your time has been away from him.
Alex Keller
• When Alex gets back, like everybody on this list, he is tired.
• His leg is very sore from the prosthetic. Prosthetics are not comfortable and cause I’m serious leg and back pain.
• He will ask very nicely if you could massage his leg for him when he gets home.
• Once he’s in the car, Alex is taking off that damn prosthetic leg and rubbing his stump.
• You can tell he’s in a lot of pain just by the way, his eyes crease, and a frown forms.
• In order to get him off of the pain, you talk to him about his time.
• This usually makes him perk up since he enjoys talking to you about his adventures.
• His personality is like a mix between Johnny and Kyle, but leans more towards Kyle.
• When you get home you’ll have to help him walk because he really does not want to put on his prosthetic.
• You just leave the bag in the car to get later.
• When Alex gets into bed, it’s like a huge sigh of relief washes over him.
• You can see how red and agitated his amputated limb is.
• You do what you can to make him feel better by applying some numbing cream and giving him some pain relieving medicine.
• He always feels better once you start massaging his leg and even more so if you give them a back rub.
• This man is a simple man and enjoys a simple massage after months of no rest.
Philip Graves
• Like a soldier from World War II coming home to meet his best girl.
• He always surprises you when he comes home and has one of his shadow men drive him to the house.
• He always buys you a huge bouquet of flowers and some pretty jewelry as well.
• When he walks through the door, he asks where his baby girl is.
• And of course you come running and giving him a huge hug and crying, which he immediately envelops you into a hug.
• He’s whispering in your ear with that southern drawl about how much she misses you.
• He gets a little into himself when he’s talking about how his mission is or how he was able to handle such a dangerous and daunting task.
• As egotistical, as this may seem, it is his way of expressing his love for you in a slightly weird way.
• In the evening, he’ll probably swoop you up into a dance, with both of you, smiling and laughing.
• He tells you how much he misses you and how much he loves you.
• In bed, he shows you how much he means both of those things.
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comicaurora · 4 months
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How would you as the writer say each of the main six characters fits into which major characteristics of the five man band?
I'd say they don't, but it is fun to lay out the arguments for each of them filling every role.
Kendal:
The Leader; he's the one who got everyone together and he carries the most authority, literally speaking for a deity and doing most of the real negotiations with the powerful forces they deal with.
The Lancer; he's a foil to nearly everybody else in the group, and despite his quiet and gentle tone, has the worst track record of going off by himself and getting into trouble.
The Big Guy; he's got the most metaphysical oomph with the widest applications, and he hits the hardest out of anyone when he decides to start hitting. Gets taken out of commission early to avoid this outcome.
The Smart Guy; with the accumulated knowledge of centuries' worth of lifetimes and the remembered experience of a god, he has access to a wellspring of knowledge with an ease that nobody else can match.
The Heart; he's the one who keeps drawing people into the group, and he cares so, so deeply about their well-being.
Alinua:
The Leader; when the others argue or fret, she's the one who actually makes decisions.
The Lancer; she's learned a lot of hard lessons and sees Kendal making mistakes she's already learned from, and that tension brings them into conflict even though they care deeply about each other.
The Big Guy; direct conduit to a force beyond any god, when something really big needs breaking it's up to her and nobody else.
The Smart Guy; literally cannot stop overthinking, has an intuitive understanding of something deeply arcane to everyone else.
The Heart; motivated by deep compassion at the core of her being, even when it's tactically unwise or she thinks it'll make her explode.
Erin:
The Leader; he is absolutely certain that he is the leader of the group.
The Lancer; proud and self-confident, immediately sure that he knows what's going on better than anyone else, he's a foil to both Kendal and Alinua who are very aware of their limits. This also means Erin gets himself into trouble so, so often, and is continually surprised when the others bail him out.
The Big Guy: The most diverse range of magical firepower plus a superpowered evil side for spice. Erin is a mighty glacier and a glass cannon at the same time.
The Smart Guy; he is absolutely certain he is the smart guy of the group. The most book-smart, certainly, and fundamentally driven by a deep and profound curiosity to understand the world.
The Heart; he'd never say or believe as much, but his greatest frustration with himself is that he wants to be coldly logical and brilliant and instead he's driven by a pesky moral compass that demands he sacrifice his goals and convenience for the people he loves.
Falst:
The Leader; he'd never believe so, but he's very good at taking charge in a crisis, and the decisions he makes generally work out well for everyone. He's also very good at thinking tactically in terms of everyone's abilities and how they factor into the group. Also, probably the most explicitly loyal member of the group.
The Lancer; almost the platonic ideal of Lancer Energy. Angry and snarky and happy to second-guess everyone around him.
The Big Guy; in a Wolverine sort of way, it's less how hard he hits and more how hard he can get hit before he goes down for good. This is the only role he thinks he's good for.
The Smart Guy; aside from a lot of street smarts, he's a deeply curious and puzzle-solving type, and Erin has been deeply impressed with him since he robbed him for the purposes of homebrewing a backyard enchantment. It's all tactical.
The Heart; deeply, painfully loyal to his friends due to a raw, open wound of loneliness. Will hold the group together if he has to dig in his claws to do it.
Dainix:
The Leader; the only person in the group who actually has experience leading a troupe of fighters and knows how to look out for a group as a whole rather than a handful of loners.
The Lancer; the role he thinks the fills, in the "second in command good at taking orders" sort of way.
The Big Guy; has a literal hulk mode
The Smart Guy; the "has way too many weapons and knows how to use all of them" variety. His expertise is in taking down things much bigger and scarier than he is, and you can't do that without being tactical.
The Heart; deeply empathic and extremely in tune with how the people around him are feeling, and the only member of the group with both the emotional intelligence and the sharpness to cut through various teammate's emotional defenses and actually get them to open up. Not too polite to leave other people's issues alone.
Tess:
The Leader; no way in hell. The only role she categorically denies. Tess's beating heart is wanderlust and that doesn't mesh with a group of any kind.
The Lancer; yes please. She'll do her own thing first and foremost, and when it intersects with other people, she'll help out as she sees best.
The Big Guy; a literal lightning bruiser who resolves every problem by finding a way to punch it.
The Smart Guy; a subtler instance because she's fairly inattentive to anything outside her very narrow range of focus, but when it comes to her areas of expertise, she puts things together faster than anyone else. The first to realize what was going on with Tynan, the first to understand Dainix, the first to track down Erin.
The Heart; not particularly observant, but when she's confronted with someone she recognizes to be in deep distress, she'll open her heart and "home" to them without hesitation. Also, makes friends ridiculously easily.
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readychilledwine · 8 months
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Slow Hands
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Azriel x Vanserra Oc
Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.
Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.
Word count- 2,639
Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.
Part Two
Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.
The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.
Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"
Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."
Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.
"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.
Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"
"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.
All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."
He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."
Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.
Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?
You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.
She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.
He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.
"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.
Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"
"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.
Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.
"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.
Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.
She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."
Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."
"I can sto-"
"Please, do not stop."
Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.
"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"
Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.
Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.
Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."
"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.
"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.
"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.
Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"
"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."
His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.
Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.
Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.
Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.
"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.
Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.
Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.
He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."
Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.
She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.
A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.
"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.
She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.
He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.
She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.
It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.
Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.
She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.
"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."
Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.
"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."
He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.
"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."
Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."
Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."
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blues824 · 5 months
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Hello again bestie coming back with the yandere pic request but for sebek feel free to do what you want to go feral bestie❤️.
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The things I would let this man do to and for me…
Warning: This is a Yandere fic. I do not condone this behavior in real life.
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Sebek Zigvolt
There was little time until he got in.
You were panting, out of breath from running back to your dormitory, and you immediately started barricading your front door. You knew it wouldn’t be enough, however, so you used whatever energy you have left to sprint to your room, where you further barricaded yourself into it.
“Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!” A shout came from outside, scaring you out of your wits and making more tears fall from your eyes. 
Why couldn’t he just LEAVE YOU ALONE?!
He already hurt your friends, you remember seeing Ace coughing up blood because of what he had done. Deuce had a blackened eye. Epel and Jack didn’t look much better. Of course, this was not without struggle. They did manage to deal some damage, but not enough to get him to stop chasing after you.
“Darling, there you are!”
Shit, you forgot about the window!
He was standing on a broom to float, and even though you sat on the opposite side of the room, you could see the figurative delusional hearts in his eyes. Quickly, he used his fist to punch out the glass pane of the window, and he quickly got into your room.
However, what he saw only made him angrier. He saw the armchair, the table, and the nightstand pressed against the door, and he immediately knew what you were trying to do.
“Y/N, were you trying to hide from me? Trying to keep me from you?! Well, you should’ve known that it wasn’t going to work!” He got closer and closer, shouting, making you curl up further and further into yourself.
You knew this wasn’t the Sebek that you had grown to care for. He was under the influence of a potion. A few students thought it would be a funny idea to prank the knight and get him to follow you around like a puppy. However, he went total psycho and possessive.
Earlier today, you sought out your friends to ask for their help in getting you away from him until the potion wore off. However, he managed to find you in Heartslabyul, where you were hiding out, and he lashed out and beat your friends to a pulp. 
Jack fought bravely, managing to scratch him and punch Sebek in the nose, which broke something, as blood dripped from his nostrils. However, he lost in the end, but you ran while the fight was going on. You jumped into a random mirror and it just so happened to be yours.
And that’s kind of where you are now. You would have to personally murder those students later, but right now you have to deal with a yandere and angry Sebek. 
“Darling, why are you cowering before me? I would never hurt you. I’m supposed to be your knight in shining armor…” He kneeled before, taking your wrists into his hands and making you reveal your face to him.
You were praying to whatever being resided in the heavens that Lilia had a club meeting and could hear what was going on in your room. You peered into the half-fae’s eyes, and his lips were closing in on yours.
“Remember that you will always belong to me, and only me, Y/N,” You tried to push him away, but he kissed you with the force of a cannon ball, even as you wiggled and squirmed beneath him.
Once he pulled away, his eyes were glowing a bright green, and he had a smirk on his face.
“Why are you doing this?!” You screamed at him.
“Because you somehow managed to make me fall in love with you: a human who won’t live for very long. I need to be there for every moment… to savor it until I join you in the stars. Then, I’ll still be obsessed with you because you are a mystery to me.”
Usually, something like this would make your heart flutter and you flustered, but right now it just filled you with a sense of dread. You had the entire confession planned out, and it would have been simple and normal, and he probably would have shouted his feelings for you.
But now, with him whispering, it felt wrong.
Really wrong.
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necromelli · 5 months
Text
prologue
— tw include but are not limited to: typical hunger games violence, depictions of death & killing, references to alcohol. read at your own risk.
wc: 1k words
you're crowned the victor of the 69th games, the most ruthless tribute in panem history.
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In.
Out.
Hold.
That's what Enobaria had taught you. Inhale until it stung. Exhale and let your lungs deflate all the way. Hold until you thought you'd pass out and do it all again.
You opened your eyes to the rewind of the tiny throwing knife getting lodged in the stomach of a girl from six — no, eight. She was from eight, you reminded yourself.
Thirteen out of twenty-four tributes in the 69th Hunger Games died at your hand. The most kills recorded in Panmen’s history. You could feel the thick, sticky blood still burning your hands. Hell, half the time you could see the blood coating your fingers dripping, dripping, dripping onto your marble countertops.
The loud ring of a cannon fire rang in your ears, pleading eyes from the girl slowly dimmed and slacked, her hands that had been in your hair dropped, and she slid from the throwing knife and crumpled to the ground. Lifeless.
The worst part was that you still didn't know her name, even after being out of the arena for weeks. You hadn't bothered enough to know the girl you selfishly killed and laughed about with your allies.
Bile rose in your throat and you sat up a little straighter. You swallowed it down and brushed non-existent wrinkles from your clothes. You pretended not to be affected by the scene. By any of the scenes, with each one leaving you more hollow than the last. You had only gone through six, you still had seven left to go.
In.
Out.
Hold.
Caesar Flickerman sat next to your throne, watching the recaps intently, curiously as if he hadn't watched them live. When he noticed your struggle, his brows sew together in worry, and he taps your arm. When you turn to look at him, he’s offering you his barely touched glass of champagne.
You can barely hear him when he leans in. “It’ll help. You trust me, right?”
You wanted to scream that you didn't trust him. That he found the Games just as amusing as any other Capitol vulture. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue and took the glass of champagne, offering a pretty smile as you downed it in one go.
The Capitol wasn't all bad. They had kept you fed, clothed, and happy for your whole life. Protected. They looked the other way when you were trained at the academy, which allowed you to win. They gave you a gorgeous house for free, enough riches to last a lifetime, the promise to never be reaped again. The Capitol wasn't all bad.
The champagne made you feel warm, staticay like the sound of your TV when the foil was moved the wrong way and the program went out. Caesar was right. It did help.
You had sobered back up by the last death. A district twelve boy that should have won, instead of you. He didn't plead for his life, not even when you started screaming at him too. You wanted — needed — something to lurch you towards him. Your hands clutched the throwing knife, your last one, eyes trained on his face. He just stared, breathing ragged, as he waited. Scoped you out.
You didn't expect him to throw the knife you had embedded from the girl in six. Even now, you could recall the cold shock hitting you as if it was happening all over again. You pulled the knife from your shoulder, screaming and groaning. You caught the number three scratched into the handle. You looked at him, realizing you killed his ally.
That you had the chance to kill him too but you failed. You didn't do what you were trained to do.
You ran towards him, knife number three sinking deep into his leg. His scream of pain hurt your ears, haunted your dreams. Twelve pulled you down with him, knocking the air from your lungs. He tried prying your other knife from your hand, but you threw it away from you. Instead, you headbutted him, rolling on top of him.
Twelve threw punches, skinny hands doing enough damage to fracture your nose. Wanting it to be over, your hands wrapped around his throat. You squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed so hard you heard a crack and then the boom of the cannon.
Your hands slowly unfurled from the boy's neck, already bruised. Already tainted forever with your touch. You screamed, hot tears spilling past your lashes. You sobbed into the boy’s chest for a solid ten seconds before you heard the announcement made.
“Relishing in the glory of winning?” Caesar Flickerman mused cheekily, snapping you back to attention.
You stared at him for several seconds, before an arrogant smile twitched your lips. Caesar was right. You fought to win the Games. There was no reason to be ashamed or feel guilty. If the districts had listened in the first place, no one would've had to die. “Oh, well, you know,” you shrugged confidently. “I did work very hard to win.”
“How many was it in all?”
A frown tugged your lips, but instead chose a tight lipped smile instead. “Thirteen.”
You could name them all. You had killed the entire Career pack slowly through the entirety of the games. Besides you, there were six others. Then, you killed the girl from district six, the boy from three, girl from five, both district eleven tributes, the boy from nine, and finally, the boy from twelve.
“That's a record, I believe! That is just fantastic.” Caesar exclaimed, the Capitol elite and last victors scattered throughout began to clap. “See? Even they think it's fantastic.”
You looked out to the crowd, scanning the first few faces. You gave Caesar another tight-lipped smile, letting him continue.
“We learned you were smarter than you let on when you managed to kill all six careers. District one, two, four, and the girl from seven. Would you care to explain your thought process?”
“Of course.” You nodded, beginning to explain.
You started killing the careers sporadically through the games, always when a tribute was near that you could blame it on. None of them ever thought wiser. All too arrogant to assume one of their own allies were lying about killing them. It had to be the jealous and weak tributes. Not some career.
“Impressive, darling. I can see why you have the highest kill count in all of Panmen's history.” Caesar paused, holding a hand to his ear piece. A wide grin broke out on his face as he grabbed your hand, pulling you up. “I've just been told the crowing of the victor for the 69th annual hunger games will take place momentarily.”
You felt Caesar stepped away, leaving you standing in the middle of the stage alone. You felt goosebumps form on your exposed skin as you felt President Snow walk towards you. He smelt like roses and metal. He wore the smell of blood and death like a perfume.
He stands next to you, microphone in hand. He talks so slowly it starts to eat you from the inside out. It's like he did it on purpose, because he knew how uncomfortable being on that stage made you.
“In honor and celebration of the new, official game record set of Most Killed, there are thirteen connecting chains, each chain sitting below a jewel representing the district the fallen tribute came from.”
That was a joke. That had to have been a joke. The fact you killed thirteen children was being applauded and celebrated. Like it was something to cherish and remember when all you wanted to do was forget.
The crown was heavy when Snow placed it on your head. The chains fell in a swoop around your head, accentuating your new nose and blazing eyes. The freckles that dotted your cheeks and nose.
When Snow opened his mouth, you held your breath. “I'm expecting great things from you.”
With that, he held his hand out for you to shake. You did, listening to the crowd cheer for you when he finally stepped away.
You, with the gorgeous crown, bruised knuckles from hitting one two many walls. You with the surgically fixed nose. You who had done one too many sinful acts to ever be considered good again.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Caesar Flickerman’s voice rang in your ears; loud and grating. “The victor of the 69th annual Hunger Games!”
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