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#someone beat it but it was good while it lasted
thefiery-phoenix · 2 days
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Hello! Is it ok if I request Yandere headcanons for Gitae kim? It’s ok if you’re not ok with it! Also just wanted to say that I really love all your Yandere content!
YANDERE GITAE KIM HEADCANONS
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Freaking hell, he creeps me TF out but why does he look so good, it's just unfair
Please, for the sake of your own sanity, RUN. Just RUN. That's it. Or at least, run as much as you can since he'll end up finding you anyway since he's the leader of a freaking Cartel and the son of Gapryong Kim after all and is a complete sadistic beast in the form of a man. It's rare that he would ever develop feelings for someone and even if he does, he'll be too egoistic and arrogant and proud to admit it, he'll treat you more like a pet of some sort to be precise. But you're HIS little pet, that he loves in his own dark twisted way. It doesn't matter how you meet this deranged flesh eating cannibal here, the second he sets his eyes on you and his mouth curves upwards into a smirk, that's when you're a goner and you might as well just kiss goodbye to your life and freedom
It was a usual day for you and you were walking back to your house after a long tiring day. You put on some earphones and walked down the alleyway, humming to your favorite tunes feeling the cool breeze against your skin. You tried to ignore the men lurking in the alleyway with beer bottles and cigarettes strewn on the ground as they looked drunk and intoxicated while their lecherous gazes landed on you, leering at you and making all sorts of lewd perverse comments about your body that made your skin crawl. You put your head down and didn't want to get into some kind of confrontation which was the last thing you wanted, when one of them ended up grabbing you by your wrist and you screeched on top of your lungs and thrashed around for all you were worth, pleading with them to let you go as tears streamed down your cheeks and your neatly combed hair was now frizzled and became unkempt with a few of your hair strands falling into your face. One of the men ended up striking you hard across your face as you whimpered in pain and clutched at your now stinging cheek and trembled. Before one of them was about to tear off your shirt, in the blink of an eye, the man's hand was now on the ground leaking crimson as the man screamed in agony and fear and you felt your heart stop beating when your gaze landed on a raven haired guy with blood splattered across his well toned muscular chest and had a black leather jacket with a cruel smile etched on his face as he watched the man fall to the ground, whimpering at the sight of his severed hand
What the man did next would remain ingrained into your memory forever. The stranger with the axe swung his axe around and the head of the man who'd been tormenting you now lay on the ground, his crimson blood painting the gravel of the ground crimson as he cut off a chunk of his flesh and bit into it and tore through the meat like an apex predator. At this point you didn't know if you were safe even after being supposedly saved by this man in front of you as his eyes landed on your whimpering and trembling figure and he smirked sadistically. "Relax little girl, I'm not going to eat you...unless you want me to'' he spoke as his eyes surveyed across your features. You reminded him of a scared vulnerable little prey, a weak little lamb that he could take advantage of and the mere thought of it just excited him as his eyes glinted with malice. Before he could even say something else, your fear consumed you and you ended up blacking out and losing your consciousness. You were about to pummel straight to the ground before he grabbed you by your waist and held you in his arms as he let out a soft chuckle, amused that you fell for him already which did give him a bit of an ego boost
You were so weak, so helpless and so fragile like a little doll that he would love to have in his grasp. He wonders how you'd react if you'd see him in his full glory while he beats up people and murders them on a usual day, you wouldn't even last a second without trembling and crying like the helpless little lamb that you were, which was cute in his opinion. "Looks like I'm takin' you home, eh?'' he said as he hoisted you over his shoulders like a sack of flour and fished out your ID to find your address and made his way to your house. You were quite surprised when you woke up the next day in your own bed and you felt your head was slightly groggy as you massaged your temples and sighed to yourself, secretly glad you were away from that cannibal. You made your way into the living room only to find the same guy napping on your couch, with blood still splattered over his chest as your eyes widened and your face paled and you let out a shrill screech of bloody murder. "Damn it woman...can't even let me nap after I saved you...'' grumbled the guy as he looked at you and his eyes narrowed slightly. He enjoyed watching you squirm and fidget nervously, he could see you were torn between trying to be a good host and thanking him for saving you yesterday to contemplating passing out again. "You know...I expect some sort of thanks from you little girl'' he said as he got up from your couch and strode over to you, his massive frame towering over your body as you gulped nervously
"I-I could give you money if you want...please don't kill me'' you whimpered. "Silly naive girl, who said I wanted your money...you're interesting...I'm keeping you with me'' he said with a smirk. You tried to make a run for it when he grabbed your hands and pinned your arms above your head and cooed at you condescendingly, "Well now that's just rude isn't it? You should thank your savior properly. Now don't make this hard for both of us...be a good little girl for your savior, would you?" he asked as he patted your cheek a few times and caressed your cheek as he lifted you in his arms yet again and you let out a nervous squeak. "Don't you think you should get to know me or something before you literally kidnap me?" you asked him as he looked at you with an amused smile on his face. "Plenty of time to do all that get to know you crap. I'm Gitae by the way since you're so insistent on introductions and crap and this isn't a kidnapping...I'm taking what's mine'' he said as he carried you out of your house
What he wants, he gets. That's it. He wasn't going to waste a single second without taking you back with him, of course, he could have kidnapped you in the night but the element of surprise was what made things more interesting for him. Your cute little reactions to whatever he did riled him up so much. No way was he going to let you go now. The next thing you knew, you were sitting in a black car with him next to you and a few other people who had tattoos as you couldn't believe what you'd gotten yourself into. You silently let tears stream down your face and you looked out the window. Gitae wrapped a black jacket around you since you were still in your night clothes as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. Don't get fooled by his actions though, he's as unpredictable as the weather
If you thought Samuel or Eugene were messed up psychopaths, allow me to introduce you all to the poster boy of being a RED BANNER. He's obsessive, manipulative and won't hesitate to literally gaslight you. While he won't physically hurt you, the same cannot be said to those around you unfortunately. He wants your attention on him, he wants you to cling to his arm like the helpless little doll that you are and look at him with those wide eyes of yours, being all pliant and dependent on him. Whenever you squirm when he touches you he just finds it so amusing and cute, he can't help but put you on his lap when he has his meetings with the men from his cartel while you have a pink collar around you pretty little neck that has HIS name on it so people will know you belong to him. As if those love bites and hickeys on your neck, thighs and arms aren't a testament of you being his. He likes marking you wherever he can, you're his property, HIS doll. Of course, anyone who looks at you for a moment too long or if their gaze wanders to a certain part of your body that belongs to him, he's just going to gouge their eyes out like knife cutting through a slab of butter. And then he'd kiss you on your soft kissable lips possessively and aggressively like a dying man needing air, running his hands over your body till you're literally gasping for breath, in front of everyone else to show those losers that they won't ever be able to have you as their minds are now ingrained with the dire consequences of laying their eyes on Gitae Kim's girl
Whatever hopes you have of escaping from him, it's best to get it out of your mind before he ends up killing and eating one of your dear loved ones right in front of you. You're his little pet, he won't tolerate any form of disobedience from you and he'll tell you how it's your fault they're dead and it's all because you dared to leave him. Your punishment is getting handcuffed to the bed till you're allowed to walk. It's best to just accept his advances towards you because there is no escaping from this deranged psycho at all...
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yandere-sins · 1 day
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A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."
I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!
Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!
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Click
You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 
"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"
Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.
"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.
"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."
"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 
"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 
For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.
"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 
In a way, he wasn't that different from you.
"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."
He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 
"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"
"You could have told me."
"And you would have dealt with her how?"
A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."
You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 
"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.
"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."
"Who'd want that, you sicko."
Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.
"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 
"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.
"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."
"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."
Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."
"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 
Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 
You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.
The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.
You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 
"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"
You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.
But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 
Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.
That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 
"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course!" 
His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 
"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.
"Why you what?"
"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."
Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.
Click
"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."
Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.
"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"
He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 
"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"
Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."
He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.
"It drives me insane."
His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."
His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.
"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."
You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 
But why would you?
The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 
"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."
"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."
At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."
"No, I don't like it."
Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."
"Can I go back to my room now?"
He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"
Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"
"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."
"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."
"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.
"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 
"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."
He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."
"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."
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tipsyleaf · 16 hours
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Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)
Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.
Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.
They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.
- Anon! 🎀
Suggestive Moment Below Cut
No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.
"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.
"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.
"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.
"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.
"What are these for?"
"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.
"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.
"As long as I want?"
"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.
"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.
You sit back, nodding to yourself.
"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.
"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.
"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.
"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.
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As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.
But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.
Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.
Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.
"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.
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But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)
Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.
Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.
"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."
"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"
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teyvathandymenclub · 2 days
Text
Genshin Men on the Dancefloor
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Story: You have been begging him to go clubbing with you for ages. Even though it was not the usual way for you to spend your free time, it was an exciting idea to change scenery and see him dancing. Hopefully.
Characters: Wriothesley, Childe/Tartaglia
TW: When I am in a good mood I write stuff like this. Sorry in advance. Just fun.
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Wriothesley
"I am going to stay here and watch you." Wriothesley resisted your tug towards the dancefloor while pointing at the bar.
"No, you promised. And promises are meant to be what?"
"Fine." He rolled his eyes while smiling. "Can I have at least one drink?"
"Sure!" You grinned knowing deep down that he would enjoy it.
After a short while of chatting at the bar with your drinks, it was finally time.
"Let´s go!" You jumped down from your high seat when you swallowed the last drops of your beverage.
"Why are you so eager?" He laughed as you made your way through the crowd.
"I have never seen you dancing!" You shouted in the loud space. 
The music was perfect so you started dancing the moment you hit the dance floor.
Wriothesley's moves were careful, shy. His tempo was out of beat as he was stuck to your body using you almost like a shield. But after a few songs, his confidence rose and suddenly the dancefloor was all his. Everyone was eyeing this big guy throwing hands, shaking his hips like it was his last night on Earth.
“Can we go back?” Wriothesley asked you the moment you left the building.
“Now? No!” You squealed. “Next week? Please? I do not feel my feet anymore.”
“Ok, no problem. But I feel like staying there until morning.” He smiled, wrapping you into his jacket.
“I know.” You frowned. “What have I done…”
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Childe
He was the one that invited you to go out dancing. There is nothing that you would not experience with him, but dancing? No matter how hard you thought about it, you could not recall seeing him dance. 
Childe always knew how to party. The whole night was filled with laughter. All that running around the city made you feel like a teenager again, leaving all your problems behind. After settling at your final destination, you have something to drink and cuddle in the dark corner of the bar. Until…
“That is my favorite song!” Childe jumped up. “Come on!”
He dragged you onto the dancefloor and immediately got into the groove of the late-night dancing. You could not believe your eyes. The man you have known for years, who shared every dark secret with you was hiding dance moves like these?
“Who are you?!” You laughed.
“The best you have ever had!” He shouted back and kissed you while moving like a dancing queen.
After a few songs, he suddenly bumped into you.
“Ouch! Keep that pointy elbow away from me.” You frowned as the light pain went through your body.
“Sorry girlie, I will take care of you after I deal with this…”
But before he could finish the sentence he got punched right in the face.
“Hey!” You shouted at a stranger who hit your boyfriend.
“That is ok, leave him for me.” Childe smiled with a swollen half of his face.
You were almost used to these kinds of situations so you left the dancefloor and sat by the bar. Everyone was gathered around the dancefloor as you had your drink patiently waiting for your man to finish his games.
After a moment someone placed a hand on your lower back.
“All done.” Childe smiled at you.
When you found yourself on the empty street, you finally asked him.
“What has he done?”
“He bumped into me. Ruined my whole choreography.” He shook his head. “Idiot.”
“Oh. What a horrible human being.” You frowned.
“Him? Yes. Or me???!!”
“Let's just go home.” You rolled your eyes.
“You are so done with me.” He laughed. “But you love me. Right?”
You chuckled as you handed him a tissue for his bleeding eyebrow.
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yu-huuuu · 1 day
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No, because when someone asks me, "what would a relationship with Itachi canon be like, you know, the rogue ninja who killed everyone to stop a civil war and abandoned his brother for his own good?", I imagine a relationship similar to that of Greg and Rose Quartz.
Imagine being a civilian who enjoys playing the guitar, and one day, singing in the forest, you encounter this mysterious man.
He congratulates you, arguing that he was drawn to you by your melodious voice and the gentle sound of the guitar.
He tells you his name after you tell him yours, although you vaguely asks why he didn't tell you his last name. But, Itachi is a nice name even if there's no suffix to pair it with.
The most random and imaginative topics arise in each encounter you both have. You two always meet in the same place, always at the same time. It quickly becomes a routine for you.
Without signs indicating that Itachi comes from any village or indicating that he is a ninja, you are left wondering where this sweet man could have come from. (although maybe if you looked behind the tree that is two meters away from you, you would see the articles he used daily)
Maybe he's the son of a vendor passing through your town, or maybe he's a tourist who likes to visit towns that aren't visible at first glance on the map.
Whatever he may be, it doesn't matter, not as long as your heart beats strongly when his hand brushes yours or when his fingers gently touch your cheek as he tries to tuck your wild locks behind your ear.
Itachi knows it's wrong. He knows these encounters are wrong. But he can't help but want to be by your side, listening to you ramble about random and simple yet fascinating things that as a ninja he never would have thought or imagined.
You make him feel like someone normal, like an ordinary man. You make him feel alive, something he hadn't felt since the massacre, perhaps even long before joining the Anbu.
It's as if he doesn't have blood covering his hands. As if he doesn't bear all the hatred of the world on his tired shoulders, preventing him from breathing.
All his problems disappear from his mind when you allow him to rest his head to take a nap, while you arguing that his dark circles look too big. Nightmares and insomnia leave him when you run your delicate hands, with no calluses in sight, through his hair. The protest dies on the tip of his tongue when you scratch that specific part that quickly turns him into putty in your hands.
One morning, Itachi Uchiha vaguely realizes that the dark circles and stress marks have become smaller and blames you for the gentle fluttering his heart does at the thought of you taking care of him. Kisame looks at him puzzled when he comes out of the bathroom. At first glance, he had a neutral face, but his eyes told a different story; they looked more alive.
Kisame wondered what or who made him that way. Itachi simply ignores him as usual, trying to keep the corners of his lips from rising because his happiness hasn't waned yet and he doesn't want Kisame to see him like that.
It's a night when Itachi finally realizes that he has fallen deeply in love with you. His heart stops for a moment when he realizes that it hurts to think about leaving you when he dies at the hands of his brother.
And he simply doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to leave your side. He's being selfish, he knows it well, but for once he wants to be. He himself destroyed all his dreams and hopes, all for Konoha and his younger brother.
By sacrificing his world, he can never become Hokage or live in Konoha again.
Maybe if he cut his hair and ran away with you to live in another secluded place away from the ninja world—
He stopped.
What was he thinking? He was dangerous. Everything about him was dangerous.
He had hurt so many people, had ended the lives of so many. You deserved someone better, someone who didn't have hands stained with blood or a destroyed man.
And he simply decides to push you away.
He told himself that this would be the last time. He didn't hesitate when he told you that he didn't want to see you again and that you should stay away from him.
Maybe if he were strong enough and you didn't have him in the palm of your hand, he would have been stronger, and he would have left without explanations.
But that wasn't the case.
"Itachi, you have to tell me what's going on."
Itachi sighed, almost as if trying to prepare himself for what he was about to say. "I— you have dreams, I don't want you to sacrifice everything for me," he told you the truth, unable to hide it under a lie.
"It's a pity."
"Uh?"
"You are all I want."
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“So…”
“Hmm?”
“What was the answer?”
“… Love”
“Woahhh-! I know it!”
“So do i”
*the end*
love like you starts playing in the background
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Also— maybe I’m gonna write a series of this now that i have ao3 🤭
@vulpisnocturna ,, @andohmyloveiliedtoyou ,, @moumouton4 ,, @izumi-uchiha-anon ,, @itachianon ,, @svfttachi ,, @kidsinsaturn ,, @ayyyez ,, :> hehe
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orcasoul · 20 hours
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Din Djarin Headcanons:
Din when you're injured
Oh how we love a protective and attentive man, and Din Djarin is the perfect example :)
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Din shifts nervously, head searching in every direction. Something's wrong. He can feel it in his bones, in the pit of his stomach. "She should have been here by now," he mumbles nervously to Grogu, while placing a hand gently on his tiny head. Grogu wriggles in the satchel at Din's side, a little wimper of concern coming from him. This was only supposed to be a quick supply run on Tatooine so where the hell were you? And why, as the minutes pass, does Din's chest feel like it's about to cave in on itself?
When contact via com link fails, he decides enough is enough. He's waited too long as it is. "Don't worry, pal," Din said, softly, "We'll go find her." The market is still quite busy as Din and Grogu make their way through the crowded streets. Ten minutes of searching has turned into twenty, and still, no sign of you. Apprehension swirls in Din's gut, anxiety conjuring up the worst things imaginable in his head.
'What if she's hurt? What if shes scared? What if she's screaming for me right now?' He can't lose you, can't let anything happen to you! Why the hell did he let you go off alone? His heart beats wildly behind his ribs, panic and frustration taking root the longer you are missing. After questioning a few of the vendors, a woman informs Din that someone fitting your description had come to her stall earlier, pointing in the direction you'd left.
With a nod of thanks, Din immediately makes his way to the outskirts of the market. It's getting late now, the side street he's searching eerily empty and still. The silence is broken by a wailing Grogu, causing Din to look down at his side. Grogu's large brown eyes stare worriedly while pointing ahead. Din's stomach sinks when he sees it; Your satchel. Your unmistakable sage green canvas bag, with a picture of a loth cat on it, abandoned with it's contents strewn across the dusty ground.
With shaking hands Din picks up the bag and calls your name, over and over. The silence is deafening. He just needs to hear your voice, to know you're okay. 'Please, please answer me, Cyar'ika!' The world is suddenly too much, too suffocating, oppressive darkness closing in around the edges of Din's periphery. To lose you would be to lose the very best part of himself. His breaths begin to come shallow and quick, causing his head to swim.
Squeezing his hands into fists, he takes slow, deep breaths, trying his best to maintain some composure. He'll be no good to you if he falls apart now. Engaging the sensors in his helmet, Din urgently scans the ground. Dank Ferrick, there are too many footprints to discern. But then, an area of kicked up dirt at the entrance of a nearby alley catches his attention. Upon inspection, it's obvious a scuffle had taken place here very recently.
In true hunter mode, Din follows the telltale signs of dragging, all the way to a dead end, to be greeted by a sight that almost stopped his heart. There you are, face down and unmoving! Din's legs move of their own accord, carrying him to you by pure instinct and adrenaline alone. He drops to his knees beside your prone body, your name leaving his lips like a prayer, a prayer he's desperate for you to answer. Gently cupping your shoulders, he rolls you over onto your back.
Din chokes on a breath at the sight of you. His vision now clouding over in a sweeping tide of red, rage boils his blood to the point where he feels like he's going to explode. Your face is almost unrecognisable. Two black and swollen eyes, a clearly broken nose -still trickling blood - a split lip and a nasty gash across your forehead is the last thing he would have ever expected to see on you. "Cyar'ika?..." his voice trembles while trying to rouse you. "Can you open your eyes? Come on, sweet girl, I need you to open your eyes for me!"
Grogu reaches out for you, whimpering. Din can see he's distressed but what can he do? He could say you're okay, he could tell him not to worry, but how can he try to comfort him when he, himself, is cracking at the seams? Din cautiously scoops your unconscious body into his lap, handling you as if you were made of fine china. With your head lolled back, he can now clearly see big purple bruises littering your slender neck, bruises in the shape of fingers.
His whole being is now shaking with outrage, teeth almost cracking from the pressure of his clenched jaw. Who the fuck did this to you?! Why would someone do this to you?!.... And where can he find those fuckers?! A small groan slips from you, and Din released a breath he didn't realise he was holding, shoulders slumping, slightly in relief. You're alive. Thank the maker you're alive!
But that relief is snuffed out when you weakly cry out and clutch your side. Din removes your trembling hand and gently tugs up your top. How the kriffing hell did he miss this?! He'd been so preoccupied with trying to wake you, that he'd missed the stab wound, which is still oozing blood. "Dank Ferrick!" Din curses under his breath while inspecting the wound. To his relief, it doesn't look too deep. Clutching your limp form to his chest, he quickly rises, being careful of your state, and also trying not to jostle Grogu too much, who's sad eyes have not not left you.
Back at the Razor Crest, Din is silently seething. He cleaned and applied bacta patches to all lesions and stitched up the knife wound. A part of him is thankful that you'd lost consciousness along the way. The last thing he would want is for you to have to go through any more agony. Grogu has become your shadow, refusing to leave your side and snuggling up to you in the bunk. Now that the adrenaline has vacated Din's system, and you are home safe with him, he feels like he can breathe again.
He could have lost you today. It's unthinkable, the very notion that you could have been ripped from his life in the blink of an eye. How could he exist in a galaxy where you don't? He'd failed you toady. He should have been there to protect you. He'll never forgive himself! Looking at your battered and bruised face, Din is overwhelmed with a primal and desperate need to shield you from succumbing to harm ever again.
It brings tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat, seeing the brutal devastation left all over you, painting your body with all the horrors this cursed galaxy hides around every corner. This will never happen again. He'll make damn sure of it! He will destroy every bastard foolish enough to even try and lay a finger on you or Grogu ever again, starting with the pieces of Bantha fodder who attacked you. But that will come later. The main priority now is you. Din sits beside you on the bed, holding your hand and smoothing his thumb gently over your knuckles.
His heart skips a beat as your eyelashes flutter open, your heavy and exhausted gaze meeting his behind his helmet. His taut shoulders instantly relax and a warm wave of reassurance fills his aching heart with the smile you give him. You're okay, you're home and you're safe and he'll never let anyone hurt his Cyare again!
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looptroupe · 2 days
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HI GORGEOUS!!!!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL US ABOUT YOUR WIPS AND AUS IM REALLY INTERESTED 🙏🙏🙏
Foams at the mouth
I’m in the middle of writing up a whole HC post for someone asking about a highschool AU but I’m gonna take this opportunity to sidetrack the conversation towards something I’d love to genuinely see from the series… a HEAVY (film) noir lean. Think: Bogart, Framed, Gilda, Vertigo… probably pushing the era back 40’s, 50’s way (Maybe even some 30’s lean in there, if I could get away with it) instead of the general 60’s vibe Lupin has going for it.
I think there’s a TON of potential there. I mean, I’m aware something like this was pitched (and never picked up, sigh…) so there IS sentiment there, and the idea has been thought about, but instead of TWCFM’s ‘serious Lupin’ I’d love to see a true noir ‘serious Lupin’. I think you can put these characters into a serious setting without making them straight up evil, and I’ll be honest, I think it would be way more appealing than the stuff they’ve been releasing lately (besides Zero. I have to admit that I loved Zero).
I’d want the gang to actually feel like criminals, though. Cutting shady deals in illegal bars, Lupin running his mouth to big players about whatever new heist he has up his sleeve. I’d take them back to being Miyazaki-esque ‘living paycheck-to-paycheck’ rather than ‘insta-rich Lupin funding his hedonistic spirit’ because I think that would work better in this universe: Lupin is constantly getting them in hot shit with the big leagues because he can’t keep his mouth shut. Jigen has shot ten guys this week who have come knocking at their hideout’s door looking for trouble. Goemon’s sick of digging graves and is antsy to finally be who he dreams of being. Fujiko’s got her eyes on a bigger prize, like always.
Zenigata’s an underpaid beat-cop-turned-inspector who has been trying to climb the ranks for a long while. He’s ambitious, but a little too soft for his own good: he’s hopeful in a way that most of the guys in his squad aren’t, and that makes him the perfect candidate for when the commissioner has to shill a shitty 9-5 case on an unsuspecting worker. A file lands on his desk, and he flips through it with this eager fire, like he’s just been asked to take on the world, and Lupin and his gang smile up at him from the pages.
Lupin is a crook, he learns. Part-time petty thief, full-time smooth-talker: a man with a legacy to live up to and not a whole lot to show for it besides a reputation as a lady-killer and a particularly long unpaid tab at the seediest bar in town. His sticky fingers have landed him in more trouble than they’ve gotten him out of, and recent reports say that he’s managed to get under the skin of the most notorious once-criminal-now-film-director in town… the very criminal that underhandedly paid Zenigata’s boss to start an official investigation in the first place.
Jigen is a gun-for-hire. Babysitter, bodyguard, hitman… whatever you need, he’ll do, however begrudgingly. He’s not a guy you mess with: and his reputation is actually pretty good in criminal circles. He’s well-respected and well-liked. Or, he was, until the monkey-faced man at the bar implicated him in a crime he didn’t commit. Now, he’s babysitting without pay, and he’s starting to get a little sick of having to put bullets into the faces of old friends who decide his bounty is worth more than his loyalty. Figures.
Goemon’s a man slightly-less-out-of-time. A famous Japanese-American film star, he’s known world-over for starring in Samurai flicks alongside his leading lady, Fujiko Mine. The thing is, Goemon is classically trained in swordslinging, and when Lupin offers him an opportunity to be the very person he’s been portraying on screen, he’s more than happy to throw his reputation away. He never cared much for fame, anyway. There’s just this one little hitch: he’s enamoured with the sword he last used on set, and he won’t take no for an answer when he asks Lupin to retrieve it for him.
Fujiko has her eyes on a prize a little more exciting than Zantetsuken: the film empire she’s helped build herself. The tabloids can’t get enough of her, and she knows that a marriage to the most famous director the world has ever seen might just secure her a place in history. The thing is, the man she’s trying her best to seduce has stopped paying her attention since his beloved priceless-antique-turned-prop-sword went missing, and she’s determined to get it back for him. Because what would make him fall quicker? Ah, there’s just one catch: Lupin is kind of charming, and the life he’s living is… exciting. Tempting. Fujiko likes playing with fire, but she’s starting to get a little too close to this one particular flame. The heat has her cheeks burning… Or maybe that’s Goemon’s doing.
They’re a strange little bunch, the Lupin Gang. But man, do people have a habit of underestimating them. Zenigata included. Because what he thinks to be a simple case of theft soon turns into something more sinister as the layers of movie-magic veneer begin to peel away. Maybe Lupin was onto something, targeting this guy, and maybe this hotshot director isn’t quite as reformed as he says he is.
He went to court recently, after all. Say, how much did he pay the judge to overturn that guilty verdict? Zenigata would like that sum as a pay rise once this has all blown over. That, and some fresh smokes.
((Mmm someone should hop on board and help me develop this I think. Could be a fun little exercise on the side… if it’s up anyone’s alley >:) ))
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thebeanman-09 · 3 months
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Win for the goth community
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byeler · 1 year
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in the kindest way possible, please remember that all of the creators in your fandom, all of the artists and authors and editors and gif makers and theorists and everyone that contributes even the smallest, silliest posts, are just people on the other side of a screen who enjoy a piece of media. that’s it! that’s all there is to it!! putting random people that you do not know personally into a poll against each other, and turning their art into a competition, will always be uncomfortable at best and esteem-crushing at worst, both to the people involved and the people excluded. it’s imperative to remember that fandom content creators are often very active in their fandoms themselves, and are very, very likely to see the things that are said about them, both good and bad. i am begging you all to keep this in mind when choosing to make public posts
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opens-up-4-nobody · 11 months
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...
#woof. if all goes to plan Tomorrow is the last day i have to take measurements forever. if all goes to plan. if all goes to plan. but im#not holding my breath bc thats asking for chaos. i think this week ive done a good job of not pushing it#in terms of not torturing myself and making myself insane. which is good bc its exhausting taking measurements with the ambient stress of#apartment hunting from across the country. ive toured 2 places from afar and applied to them. and im meeting with someone to talk abt#potentially being roommates tomorrow. which is terrifying bc i really just wanna beg them like pls pls like me so i can stop looking pls#like i have to rely on my charisma i guess when im a bit asocial and odd. not unlikable but idk maybe they want someone more normie idk#its exhausting. ive sent so many emails and so many places r like no u gotta physically visit. ugh#and i have to clean my whole apartment by Tuesday for my landlord to inspect bc i had to give them a 30 day notice or else they wouldn't#release my info for like referal on background checks. there should b flexibility in when i can leave tho. its just stressful#at least im doing this when im pretty stable and i stop taking measurements tomorrow but i haven't taken a break since last Saturday#and haven't really had time to properly draw which annoys me and apparently i wont get a break this weekend with all the cleaning i gotta do#but oh well. at least im better off than the other person i kno who is moving Tuesday across the country and currently doesnt have a place#to stay. so i guess theyre gonna b living out of their car for a while. im stressed enough a month out from leaving#sigh. im just v tired and my heart is beating too fast and i wanna start cleaning now but im sleepy#whenever we go sampling we joke that we have to make sacrifices to the weather gods for good conditions. i guess i gotta make sacrifices#to the housing gods 🙏 ugh. pls. i dont wanna still b doing this for another week when i wont have time bc ill actually have to focus on#things. ugh. cant wait to b in the future where i dont have to deal with this#unrelated
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awek-s-archived · 2 years
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just watched speak no evil and it was literally so promising until the last 30 minutes when it just went to pure shit. it’s like the (very single and lonely) creators got bored of their own premise and decided to throw it away at the last second.
#i don’t mind spoiling tf out of it bc I’m harshly judging anyone who watches this willingly (myself included)#basically it’s about a Dutch family and a danish family meeting on holiday in italy and becoming friends. after they leave the danish send#a postcard to the Dutch asking them to come spend a weekend w them bc their kid son misses their kid daughter and they all had such a good#time together. they go but these ppl are freaky as hell. but they’re kinda put forward as cultural differences.#like disagreements about lifestyle (meat eaters vs pescatarians) or raising children or restaurants. class difference etc#but then the dutch dad sees the danish dad spying on them as they have sex and the dutch mom catches the danish couple sleeping w her#daughter in the bed while they’re buttfuck naked#they go back for reasons unimportant bc the danish promise them a great last day but fuckin hey Ho that doesn’t happen#the son won’t stop crying in the night so his dad drowns him and the other dad goes to investigate and finds his body. he also finds#photos and luggage from previous families and in a compilation of photos u find out that#the danish couple basically kidnap families#steal their children#and kill the parents#and then pretend the kid is theirs. and they cut out the kid’s tongue so they can’t tell anybody#obviously that’s what happens here too but it’s fucking wild bc they get away ans then it gets so sloppy and stupid#the dad could’ve pushed the car that got ‘stuck’ but instead decided to swim a fucking river to get to a house in the distance ?????#wife somehow got signal and called the killer couple to help them?????#killer couple take them to the middle of nowhere and someone comes and holds the mom…… who just yells and girls at his arms a little…..#while the other woman cuts her daughters tongue out………#then the rando guy just takes the kid. who just kicks her legs a bit in protest and yells. and then the mom just beats on the window and#screams. no attacking the psycho lady or anything#the dad says nothing he’s just vibing like 🧍🏻in the passenger seat#then they take them to the middle of nowhere. make them get naked. and then make them stand a metre away#AND THROW ROCKS AT THEM#LITERALLY#JUST THROW ROCMS AT THEM#TIL THEY DIE…….#no escape plan both just completely submit to their fate im like#this entire movie u have fought tooth and nail for ur daughter and now ur like#well <3 she has no tongue now so <3
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astroluvr · 2 years
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could i ask yall for advice? like really quick about this one thing 😭😭 and it's not fic related or anything btw
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In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:
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It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.
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Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.
Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.
Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).
But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.
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Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **
And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).
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From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.
It felt like a story with legs.
Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”
William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***
“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.
Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.
But the spirit of Just William was never far away.
The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.
Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)
“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”
(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).
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*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.
** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.
***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
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last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.
Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.
he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.
he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.
“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.
“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.
he raises his shoulders.
“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.
“Leiri,” he shrugs.
“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.
he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”
He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.
Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.
when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.
you turn around, “Choso?”
his heart skips a beat. he nods.
“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?
“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”
And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.
“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.
You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.
When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.
“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,
“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.
You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.
you both get quiet for a moment.
“how big is your bed?”
“Queen size,”
“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”
youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.
And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.
“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.
you smile and nod, “okay,”
Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.
He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.
he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.
When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.
“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.
you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.
“is it because of what yuji told me?”
his brain goes quiet. “what?”
“that you…that you like me?”
fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-
you stand and walk to him.
and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.
And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.
You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.
When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.
“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.
“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”
“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.
your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.
“oh…uh okay,”
fuck. yes.
he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.
he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,
“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.
you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.
“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”
And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.
He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.
He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.
You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.
he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.
you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.
After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.
“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.
He pulls away.
His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.
He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.
“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.
You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.
but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.
He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.
“oh my god did you…”
he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.
“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.
“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.
you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.
hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY
now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.
taglist:
@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover
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kentopedia · 5 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI
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fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words
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“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 
he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 
cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.
he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.
“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.
“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 
a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 
“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."
normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 
levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”
you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 
levi makes his way towards the door. 
“levi?” 
he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 
but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 
you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 
he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
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within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 
he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 
no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 
levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 
their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 
his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 
“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.
armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”
levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 
he should've known.
“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.
“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."
levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 
“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”
eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 
or so he thought, anyway.
historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 
“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”
levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.
eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 
it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 
“how long have you been together?”
“does she actually like you?” 
“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 
“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 
“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 
"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 
“five—” 
a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.
levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.
even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.
he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
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we don’t talk about plug!eren, who is the perfect gentleman. The one who holds doors open for you, great manners with your folks, best friends with your younger siblings and cousins, your homegirls love him and just an all around good dude. The one who would drive clear across town in the middle of the night to get your favorite snacks, the one who’d hear you stressing and talking about some bill or expense you have and quietly go take care of it. “I already told you, don’t worry ‘bout that, mama. It’s handled.” Or the one who never exposes you to his lifestyle because it’s the last thing his princess needs to concern herself with. He’s so sweet, kind and loving..one would never guess he wouldn’t hesitate to kill a dude who shorted him on his money or supply. Or that just shortly before coming home to you, he probably beat someone unconscious for trying to set him up on a lick. You wouldn’t know a thing..not when he quietly slides into bed, where you’re lying flat on your stomach, in nothing but a t shirt, bonnet and panties, waiting for him to slide them off while he kisses down your spine. Muttering in your ear to just stay still and let him take care of you. “You awake, mama? I missed you..” In the deepest gruff as he delicately touches your skin, appreciating every inch. And you realize just how much he does when he spreads you open from behind, gripping your asscheeks and planking firmly on top you as he feeds you deep, passionate strokes. Slowly drilling you..with those sweet whimpers underneath him. You didn’t even have to move an inch, all he needs you to do is keep moaning and let him claim that beautiful pussy. That spot opening up so nicely after a couple thrusts. His tattooed hand and gold watch placed at the small of your back to keep you pinned down. “Mmm…just like that, baby. You ain’t gotta do shit..daddy got you.”
and he always will take such good care of his girl.
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