#Small fragile orbs all around me

[paperthin-carapace]

I am not being eaten.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Little Dove

(Or, the birth of Sylus' daughter)

Just pure, unabashed fluff ♡ Dad!Sylus means the universe to me.

Not proofread, written entirely on a whim 🙈

If you want even more Dad!Sylus, there is a part 2 to this here, a short fluff piece about his first time holding his baby girl skin-to-skin ♡

For years, Sylus has been a connisseur of music. Has amassed a vast and impressive collection of vinyls. Listened to practically every classical piece there is. And yet... nothing has sounded as wondrous or beautiful to his ears as the first cries of his newborn daughter. The sound of her makes Sylus' breath catch and his heart skip a beat.

When the baby — your baby. his baby. — is placed in your arms, the world around Sylus seems to narrow down, and for the next few moments it's as though you and the precious new life you hold in your arms are the only beings that exist in it.

The sight of you — exhausted, yet with a smile so radiant that it would put a thousand suns to shame — cradling your little dove causes Sylus' chest to tighten, an unfamiliar lump forming in his throat.

Joy. Relief. Pride. Love. They all swirl around in his heart, expanding to an extent he had never before thought possible for a fiend like himself. But as of yet, he holds the dam together, blinking away the stinging mist forming in his eyes.

After pressing a kiss to your damp temple, Sylus gently, and with uncharacteristic tentativeness, reaches out to touch his daughter for the first time, his index finger tenderly stroking her soft little cheek.

"She is beautiful" he murmurs, the deep timbre of his voice thick with emotion. "Like her mother" he adds, looking up to meet your gaze with a gentle smile that completely softens his sharp features. They hold no trace of the imposing leader of Onychinus. Nor is there any hint of his trademark smug smirk or arrogance. There is only the unfiltered adoration and love of a husband and father.

- 🐦‍⬛

Tiny. She is so tiny.

Sylus finds himself inwardly marveling the first time he holds his daughter, his large hands all but dwarfing her.

And yet, despite the miniscule weight of his baby girl, Sylus feels it more keenly than he has ever felt anything in his life.

Throughout his long life, Sylus has held more riches, more exquisite jewels and rare valuables in his hands than he could ever count. But never before has he held a treasure near as priceless as the tiny, flailing bundle wrapped up in soft blankets now in his arms.

A small part of Sylus is, for the first time in his life, terrified. A little crack forming in his seemingly impenetrable self-assurance, giving way to his first bout of parental worry.

She is so small. So fragile. What if he accidentally ends up hurting her in some way?

However, Sylus doesn't let any of his newfound nervousness show, as ever the master of self control. Instead, he puts all his focus on soothing his little one, — who has begun wailing softly — already putting her and her needs before his own worries.

Instinctively, Sylus starts to carefully rock the tiny wailing newborn, humming to her in the same low, tender (but oh so out of tune) tone he always used on her while she lay in your womb. And your little girl, as if recognizing her father's voice, ceases crying, her little face unscrunching, peering up at him with wonder in her ruby red eyes. The moment her beautiful orbs meet his, Sylus feels his throat tightening and his heart squeezing, his whole being quite literally overwhelmed by the sheer strength of love he is experiencing.

His little dove. So beautiful. So perfect in every way.

Part of Sylus is in disbelief that someone like himself had had part in her creation. That something so innocent, so fragile, so breathtaking, so indescribably precious could come from a fiend and criminal like himself. However, he has long vowed that he will give her all the opportunities, all the care, all the security, all the affection, all the happiness that he himself never had growing up. His child will never be forced to be an outcast, nor a criminal. She will be free to be whoever and whatever she wants to be. To soar as high as she pleases. The sky will be her limit.

Sylus has only held his little girl for a few moments, and yet he already loves her so much that he hardly knows what to do with himself. It is a vaguely terrifying feeling in its sheer, fierce intensity, yet one he can no longer imagine living without.

As he keeps humming softly to his baby, his thumb gently stroking her impossibly tiny yet perfect fingers, his eyes still locked onto hers, Sylus is unable to hold back the tears that creep up again, try as he might. He has always been an expert at managing his emotions, but the flood welling over him is beyond even his capability to control. And so the leader of Onychinus relents and the dam breaks, silent tears running slowly down his cheeks in a rare instance of raw vulnerability.

Sensing your gaze upon him, Sylus finally looks up, his red rimmed eyes meeting yours. With a soft smile, radiant in its unfiltered joy and pride, he bends over you and plants a kiss on your lips, a stray drop of rain landing on your cheek when he withdraws.

"Thank you" he says softly, his expression one of indescribable, limitless love and adoration for you and the tiny life you've created. You smile at him, and reach out to gently wipe away the tears that are gathered in his dark lashes with your thumb.

Tenderly handing your now sleeping daughter back to you, Sylus settles beside you on the bed, wrapping his arm around you and holding you close as you both gaze down at the dozing baby girl in your arms. Yours and his very own little dove. The living embodiment of your love. The very testament to your mutual perseverance against fate.

.♡

[digital-slvt]

Proposal Adjacent Behavior...

Sevika x Reader ‪‪ ❤︎‬

Sevika proposes to you! In her.. Strange Sevika way!

wrote this for you tbh @shanesevikasfuckdoll :p

A/N : I typically do not like writing fluff, or anything even remotely corny or sappy. But I am in LOVE. And well ... this is what it has done to me. Anyways, this isn't proof read, I wrote this in like 20 minutes, wtv.

Enjoy ‹𝟹

Sevika wasn't going to bring it up tonight.

You’re curled up beside her on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside the window, your fingers tracing lazy shapes on her thigh. The TV flickers different colors in the corner, forgotten. Her arm is around your shoulder, and your eyes are slowly closing, but you notice that she’s too still, too quiet, barely breathing.

You shift, glance up at her, sensing it.

“You alright?”

She nods after a moment, but it’s not convincing. You tilt your head to study her, really study her, but she can’t hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Sevika,” you say, now a little firmer.

Her jaw tightens before she heavily sighs.

“…I don’t know how to do this shit,” she mutters, thumb grazing your shoulder like a habit. “Not the way you probably imagined it.”

You sit up a little, tensing slightly. “Do what?”

She lets out a long and heavy exhale before reaching into the pocket of her sweater, avoiding your eyes.

The box Sevika pulls out is small. A simple, black, velvet box. She holds it between her fingers like it’s something fragile—like it might burn through her palm if she grips it too hard.

She doesn’t open it. She just passes it to you without a word.

Your heart stutters. Your hands shake when you take it, slow, hesitant, already feeling what’s inside before you even look.

The ring catches the low light, and Gods, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What…?” your voice barely comes out.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” she says, eyes fixed on the floor now. “Hell, I didn’t even think I’d live long enough to consider it.”

There’s a pause. A bitter laugh under her breath.

“And now… all I think about is staying. Staying with you. Waking up next to you every day until the world burns down around us.”

You look at her, really look at her, and her expression guts you. There was a quiet kind of fear hidden behind layers, but you could see it. This desperate, aching softness she never lets anyone see. Usually not even you, not fully.

“I don’t have anything else to offer you,” Sevika says, voice lower now, cracking around the edges. “No promises I won’t screw it up. No fancy life. Just me. All of me.”

She finally meets your eyes. With orbs like the moon, her gaze was glazed over, glassy like stars. In them, you saw vulnerability. For the first time, you saw true terror in her. And it wasn’t in battle, or on a mission where her life was at stake, but instead it was here, right in front of you.

“…But if you want it, it’s yours.”

You don’t speak. Just slide forward and wrap your arms around her, pressing your face into her shoulder. Sevika holds you tight, secure, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Then she shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to take your hand in hers—calloused fingers cradling yours with so much care you can feel in your bones. She doesn’t say anything else as she slips the ring onto your finger, her thumb brushing over it once it’s in place.

Her hands are shaking.

“You dumbass,” you whisper, your voice trembling, tears finally breaking out and rolling down your cheeks. “You already gave me everything.”

And when you kiss her, lacing her with more passion than ever before, she finally exhales for real.

Her breath is soft and tender. Her heart, full of all the things she never thought she could feel.

And maybe she’ll never say it in the right ways. Maybe she’ll never speak it in grand gestures or in perfect lines, but she loves you.

She loves you more than anyone ever has. ❤︎

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

Agathario x reader

Another scene I'm deeply in love with is Agatha and Rio's fight happening in the first episode. So, here it is what would happen with r joining it.

pt. 2

Rio leaned closer to Agatha with a lopsided grin, “I’ve missed you,” she purred, tracing her former lover’s jawline with the curved blade in her hand. 

Agatha’s chest rose and fell, an expression of pure hatred flashed upon her blue eyes, mingled with a hint of something else, mabe fear. “I hate you.”

Rio lolled her head back and laughed bitterly, “course, you do.” 

The day you and Agatha vowed to never see her face anymore, her heart shattered until nothing was left of it. But she was Lady Death, meaning that no matter what you wanted, someday your paths would cross again and that’s what kept her going. 

You had just parked in the driveway, when an explosion coming from inside the house alerted you. On your way back from the grocery store, your memories came back one by one, and you almost hit a pedestrian or two at the realization that you and Agatha had been trapped under a spell for about three years. And now that you were ‘awake’, you were pretty sure she was too. You quickly got out of the car and stepped inside, silently praying that Agatha was okay. 

Last person you thought you’d see was Rio. 

“Drop the dagger now,” your voice came out sharp and dangerous. 

Both witches snapped their heads towards you. Your eyes locked with Agatha’s first. She breathed a sigh of relief at your sight, her blue orbs filled with all sorts of thoughts. 

“Hello, mi nena,” Rio quipped, tone softening at the sight of you. “Glad you’re awake too. Agatha and I were just.. catching up, right?”

You took a step closer, keeping your eyes on Rio. “I see– rude of you to start without me,” there was a hint of sarcasm in your voice, that both witches grasped. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.” 

“Uhm, I don’t know.” Instead of listening to you, Rio pushed the blade deeper against Agatha. The witch struggled to keep the blade at distance, trembling while doing so. 

Your hands turned into fists, a gust of wind rose up around you. Objects started levitating, the chandelier in the lounge room swayed and Agatha’s lips curled upwards, happy to realize your powers were still part of you. 

The vibrancy of your magic brought back all sorts of memories of the time you three spent together. “Looks like our sweet girl over there is in control of her powers. How does it feel, Agatha?” Rio asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you resent her like you resent me?” 

The purple witch was quick to shake her head, scoffing to herself at the same time. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

When she looked at you, she saw one of the most incredible witches she ever had the pleasure to meet.

“You’re nothing like her.”

Rio let out a whiny sound, “why does she get special treatment and I don’t, huh?”

In the meantime, your irises turned the same color of your magic, a bright hue of silver and enveloped your entire body as well. 

“She did everything she could, while you–” she winced when the tip of the dagger pressed further against her skin. “What, huh? What are you blaming me for? I’m the natural order of all the things baby, and you know it. You always knew it!” 

When she pushed the blade further closer to her skin,  Agatha’s grip on Rio’s wrists loosened and the dagger scraped her. While Rio grinned at the sight of Agatha’s blood flowing so deliciously from her collarbone to her chestline, you levitated from the floor and your palms opened wide, exploding with your magic. 

“You’re nothing!” 

Rio let out a strangled yelp, as her body was thrown on the other side of the corridor. Agatha let out a sigh of relief, mouthing a fragile thank you in your direction as you rushed towards her. You didn’t say anything at first and simply hugged her, your heart thumping in your chest at incredible speed. 

“Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head, but you knew better. While that small cut wasn’t anything serious, you knew the pain in her heart was greater. You pressed your lips together, giving her a skeptical look. With a flick of your finger, you healed the wound on her skin,  and for some reason, it made Agatha feel even worse, but she didn’t say anything to you. 

Rio pulled herself up, stretching both arms and legs, “Ahw, did she make it better?” 

Agatha growled, fingers wiggling as if she could actually summon magic. 

You immediately stood in front of her, “don’t come any closer,” you warned her. 

The Green Witch hummed and her brows knitted in a frown, “where did I see this scene before?”

You swallowed thickly at the painful memories she was able to bring back with such ease. You had so many questions going on inside your head, the most important would probably be, why? Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the pain? 

“Cut the crap, Rio,” Agatha snapped, worrying about your sudden discomfort, “what do you want?”

She fake pouted at her angry tone, “you used to be much nicer to me,” with the tip of the blade, she moved a strand of hair from her face. And when you scoffed, a dark shadow passed through her eyes, “I’m just missing the old days. I want you back– in a way or another, meaning that if I have to kill you both, I will,” she added the last part with a strange look in her eyes. Almost hysterical. You only had a couple of seconds to react. Rio’s dagger flew in your direction, missing you and Agatha by a nose, as you shoved her to the side, shielding her with your body. 

Agatha grunted at the sound of Rio’s giggles, “I’m gonna kill her.” 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “it’s not possible, unfortunately.” 

Propping yourself up, you helped Agatha do the same. 

While doing so, you spotted the dagger behind you. You pointed at it to Agatha with a nod of your head. She was closer to the weapon so she lunged forward to grab it. Rio ignored her and focused on you. She gave you little time to anticipate her move and with a yelp she sprung forward, fuelled by her magic. Before you knew it, her fingers tightened around your neck and squeezed. 

Her head lolled to the side, and watched you with a mixture of nostalgia and admiration, “naughty, naughty–”

“Let her go!” Before Agatha could even make an attempt to stab Lady Death on the shoulder, Rio sent her flying in the lounge room, her back hitting a cabinet that after the impact, crashed on top of her.  

Your eyes snapped open, as you squirmed but to no avail, “Agatha!” 

“Do you remember pain, my love?”

“I never stopped feeling it since the day you betrayed us.”

You still resented her for the things she did. And you probably would for the rest of your life. Her face dimmed and her lips pursed into a grimace; the grip around your neck loosened, but she didn’t let go. Was that disappointment settling in her chest? 

“You’re so clueless about the things I did for you.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes, but despite them a choked chuckle slipped from your lips. She did nothing for you, nor for Agatha and even less for Nicky. She only took, betrayed your trust and hurt you in the most inexplicable way. 

“All you did was make things worse.”

Rio snarled at your accusation,“you knew that messing with the Fates wasn’t without consequences!” 

Your answer came out in a faint, yet determined whisper, “you were the one to send the Furies my way.” 

In the meantime, Agatha straightened herself out, wincing at the pain in her arms, as shreds of glass cut through her skin. She scanned the surroundings  in search of something, anything that could be used against Rio. While her eyes landed on a wooden tray, Rio blasted you against the wall behind you with full demoniac force, her voice distorted as well, sounding deeper and animalistic, “I had no other choice!”

Agatha mentally screamed at the chunks of plaster coming down at you. 

You whimpered, feeling Rio’s body towering over yours, “sorry, did it tickle too much?” 

Despite the dizziness, you found the sassiness to roll your shoulders, “No.” With the corner of your eye, you spotted Agatha coming your way, holding something in her hands. Realizing what it was made you almost chuckle. “But I bet this will.” 

Before Rio could ask you what you meant, the purple witch hit the back of her head with an angry growl and a deadly stare in the eye.  

“Dark Mother, I’m so sick of her,” she muttered, glancing back at you. 

You chuckled briefly, before erupting into a fit of coughs. Your throat felt on fire because of Rio. You were pretty sure it was bruising already for how much she squeezed. Agatha kneeled in front of you, her fingers hovering over your neck, but barely touching it, for fear of causing you extra pain,  “I’m sorry about–” 

“Don’t. The ‘s’ word isn’t allowed,” you chided her softly. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She hated feeling powerless, even more now considering you could really use some of her purple as backup.

Noticing the veil of sadness in her eyes, you tried to cheer her up, giving her a playful nudge, “what you did was rather hot by the way.” 

She snorted out a laugh, “are you turned on, love?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips, “maybe.”

She pulled you closer, tugging at the fabric of your blouse. Her forehead adhered against yours and you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to inhale her sweet. Her hand ran from your collarbone up to your chin, her thumb gently grazed your bottom lip, pushing it down and making you smile. When you reopened your eyes, you took her hand in yours, and intertwined your fingers together in the attempt to brush aside all the worries you spotted in her eyes. 

Rio let out a frustrated growl, “Good job, Agatha. I’m impressed. A little higher and that would have really hurt.” 

On instinct, you tried to move Agatha behind you, but she resisted, making you frown. 

“Ugh!” Rio swept her tongue over her lips, “the way she would throw herself in Hell for you really warms my heart.” 

You said nothing because it was true. You would do the craziest things for her, just like you did for Nicky. 

Agatha smacked her lips, almost laughing in her face. “Please, you don’t have a heart.” 

Rio locked eyes with her, and for a moment you spotted a veil of hurt in her brown orbs. “Yes, I do,” she argued, before dropping her voice into a softer murmur, “it’s black and it beats for both of you.”

Agatha said nothing, while you couldn’t bring yourself to be quiet after that colossal lie, “you’re pathetic.”

Her gaze narrowed towards you; a flash of fury dimmed her features. “Madness turned you into a real brat. Perhaps you fancy another ride?” 

You swallowed thickly and turned stiff. Those words stung painfully, there was no point in hiding it. You hated how easily she could bring back the memories of your trauma, making you feel as if you were reviving it all over again. 

A single tear slipped from your eye, but you were quick to wipe it. Agatha’s hand found yours and squeezed; she felt your magic tickling her skin, it was mirroring your emotions and she knew it would burst soon. 

“You’re a monster,” Agatha’s voice came out in hiss. 

Then it happened. You let go of Agatha’s hand and tackled Rio on the floor. Her back hit the ground with force, and despite that, she laughed. You pinned her wrists above her head, digging your fingernails into her skin, wishing to hurt, to tear the skin apart, and make her feel even an ounce of the pain you endured because of her. 

Agatha’s eyes widened both in shock and surprise at your outburst. 

“My, my, aren’t you sexy when you’re mad?”

You smacked her across the face. Hard. 

“Woah, okay girl–”, she conceded, calling a truce, “tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to get the fuck out of my life.” 

Rio lifted her chin up, a dark chuckle escaped her lips, “All roads lead to me, mi nena. Whether you like it or not, you’ll die. Why can’t we speed up the process?” 

“You’re not allowed to kill us,” your voice dropped in an icy growl. 

“I second that,” Agatha quipped. 

Rio scoffed amusedly, “are you sure about that?” Before you could respond with another sassy remark, she headbutted you straight on the nose. You fell to the side, letting go of Rio’s wrists and allowing her to flee from your grasp. You groaned and cursed under your breath, when she kicked your side with the boot of her shoe. Agatha took you in her arms, as quickly as she could, then started crawling backwards with you firmly pressed against her chest, “you okay?” 

“Fine,” you croaked out, in annoyance. 

By the look on your bloody face, she realized you’d very well use a break. 

But Rio seemed to have other ideas, the knife was back in her hand as she approached you. 

“Wait, just wait a damn second–” Agatha held out a hand towards the Green Witch, while the other remained wrapped around your underarms. 

Rio hummed and traced the tip of the blade with her fingertips. 

“This isn’t what you want. Plus, I don’t have any powers so it’s not exactly a fair fight, is it?” She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping her words would buy you some time to recover. “Don’t you want us at our best?” 

Rio grinned, with a devilish light in her eyes, “Horizontal, in  a grave?”

“Not exactly,” she muttered, “I mean, in full control of our powers. Just let me get my purple back, let her recover and if you really want to– come back and find us.”

Your breath hitched, it was hard to breathe properly with the blood clogging your nostrils. You summoned your magic, and despite being a tad weaker, you knew it could heal you if given proper time. 

“Why don’t you take mine?” Rio’s suggestion made your stomach lurch. 

“That’s cute,” Agatha mused. “But you know that would kill me.”

“Then what about hers?” 

It didn’t seem like a terrible idea to you. But Agatha’s answer was categorical, “No.” 

You looked up at her, noticing the hesitation in her features. Maybe fear too. Truth was, she didn’t trust herself to do such a thing, not to you. You knew she found immense pleasure in sucking away powers from witches, she knew it was wrong, and for years the only reason why she did that was to keep Nicky alive. That’s the reason why you helped her do it. As a mother you could back up from your responsibilities and as a witch, you learned the hard way that in order to survive you had to do all sorts of things. 

There was something about your magic that scared Agatha. You were the only necromancer witch she ever crossed paths with, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull away from you, once she got a taste of your forbidden  magic.

Rio pursed her lips in a grimace, “you’re such a coward.”

“She isn’t,” you argued back. 

When Rio finally put the dagger down, both you and Agatha frowned in confusion. “Show me, then. Blast her. Help her restore her purple.” 

“We aren’t doing this, Rio,” Agatha insisted rather adamantly. 

“I’d think about it before making a decision, my love,” Rio leaned closer, her voice soft and eerily calm. “You see, I'm not the only one that wishes you dead. I’d expect guests at sundown.”

You frowned at her words, “who do you mean?”  

Rio’s eyes flashed with excitement. “The worst of them. The Salem Seven.” 

For a moment both you and Agatha fell quiet. You felt Agatha turn still behind you, and your heart ached for her. You turned to face her, as the grip around your middle loosened. 

“Hey, I’m here, Agatha,” your voice came out both firm and tender. “It’s going to be alright”

Rio laughed softly at that. She shoved your shoulder in a playful way, “I have a feeling we will meet again, very soon.”

She paused where once it stood the front door, “Hasta luego,” she waved her fingers before stepping out of the house. 

You considered Rio’s words, and as much as you wished to find another solution, there wasn’t really another way to restore Agatha’s powers, especially not in such a short time. 

“Maybe–”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, sharply. 

You raised your hands defensively, “Fine, sorry. But I think we should at least think about it.”

When she didn’t respond, you decided to give her a moment. Pushing yourself up, your eyes darted to the mess around you. There were pieces of furniture pretty much everywhere, shreds of glass, plates and cutlery and even sections of ripped wallpaper, along with chunks of plasters, “this is not how I imagined to spend this Friday…” you hoped your little joke would put a smile on Agatha’s face, but she remained motionless. 

Agatha started to regret having woken up from Wanda’s spell. Now not only was she awake, but she had no power, the Salem Seven and Rio wanted her dead, her house was falling to pieces, and on top of that, you were in potential danger because of her. The only reason why she survived the loss of Nicky was because of you. But if she lost you too…

She clenched her eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to dwell in such thoughts. 

“Uhm, Agatha?” You were wrong to think nothing else could surprise you that day. 

She made a hum sound, finally getting on her feet, face turned towards you. 

“Why is there a gagged boy in our wardrobe?”

[lvlyghost]

I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️

Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭

No More Stars Left to Count

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.

A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝

Masterlist✨

Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.

All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.

He swallows hard.

There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?

He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.

The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.

-

"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.

His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.

"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.

"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.

There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.

"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.

"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.

The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.

"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."

He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.

"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."

But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.

It was an ambush.

And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.

The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.

"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.

What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?

-

Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...

The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.

"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.

"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.

"Leave..." he warns.

"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.

"Now!" He barks.

She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.

Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.

"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.

"What do you want Price?"

"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."

"Not until I know she'll be fine."

Price sighs closing the door behind him.

"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."

"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."

John crosses his arm.

"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."

Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.

"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"

A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.

The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.

"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."

It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.

"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.

"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."

More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.

"How many nights..."

"Twelve..."

The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:

"That's a lot of counting we've missed."

A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.

"We've got the rest of our lives, love."

[sweetdreamz2]

Yandere Soldier S. Ryomen

Who knew that you would catch the attention of someone as ruthless as Sukuna— who so happens to be the enemy.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who is as menacing and commanding as he looks — broad shoulders and scarred arms signaling he’s seen more than enough battles in his life. Dark tattoos peeking from the confines of his uniform, sleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned to showcase his dog tags around his neck. Those crimson eyes digging into people’s soul— as if those eyes could kill.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who does his job very, very well. Each mission he’s been assigned, he never fails. Always coming back with that dark, sinister smirk on his face, his hands soaked with the blood of his enemies. He didn’t become captain of his squad for nothing. His skills are top notched compared to any of the others in his base. He’s very proud of the type of power he holds amongst the others -so much so that no one dares to defy him.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who just wants to wind down after a rough mission one night and decides to stop by a bar along with his squad— the once rowdy bar instantly falling silent as they entered. The patrons turning around to stare at them silently, some with fear and others glaring daggers at the group. Of course, who wouldn’t stare — Sukuna and his squad were part of the occupying forces of this country, so the stares were anything but familiar to the group.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who merely sweeps his gaze around the smelly, old building with a nonchalant expression on his face until his orbs land on a figure behind the bar. You. You were pouring drinks while occasionally offering small talk to the occupants sitting across from you. Some were friendly while others were throwing flirtatious remarks at you — it’s not like you weren’t used to it by now, but it definitely didn’t help with the uniform you had to wear.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who sits with his squad quietly, his orbs trained on you the whole time until your figure leaves the bar and make way towards him. You offer the group a small smile. “What can I get for you gentleman tonight?” Sukuna doesn’t even hesitate, lips quickly forming into a smirk that made your stomach twist. "Whiskey for me, little one."

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who keeps stopping by after that day, sometimes alone and the other times with his squad— the other men settling into the same table, loud and boisterous while the tall male makes his way towards the bar where you’re at, wiping away at the counter until you feel his intimidating presence in front of you. “Whiskey.” He says with that damn smile that just made your stomach churn in the worst possible way as he leaned his muscular arms against the counter.

All you can do is manage a smile towards him before making his drink, feeling his crimson orbs staring at your back.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who can’t keep his mind off you— you were so interesting to him.. so fragile and small.. and breathtakingly beautiful. You were ethereal in his eyes, a precious gem that deserved to be protected. Every time he stops by, orders the same drink and sits by the bar, watching you work though he never tries to talk to you. Until today that is. “Busy night?”

“When is it never busy,” you replied back as you placed the glass in front of him— already knowing his usual order before he even asks.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who grabs your hand before you could leave, his fingers digging into your skin— gentle at first. He tells you if you’re always this friendly to your customers, but his eyes held a sort of dangerous glint to them. Your heart pounded harshly against your chest, fear eating at you though you refused to give him the satisfaction.

He can feel your pulse pick up underneath his touch. He lets out a dark chuckle before letting you go— giving your hand a firm squeeze and sending you a wink.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who waits outside of the bar one night as you were closing up, his expression unreadable as you finally meet his gaze. You frowned, gripping your keys tightly in hand as he stepped closer towards you. "You're an interesting one," he said before you could even ask what he was doing outside of the bar.

Your back pressed up against the building, heart racing rapidly as his hand rested beside you, caging you against the wall. A frown tugged at your lips, eyes narrowing at the tall male. "What do you want?"

Sukuna tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "I've decided something." He grabs a hold of your chin and leans down to whisper against your ear. "You're coming with me, doll." His words hit you like a punch. You protest, scoffing at him and replying back, "I'm not going anywhere with you." Who were you to tell him no?

Sukuna’s lips twitched into a grin, though there was no humor behind it. He finds it comical that you truly think you have a choice in the matter. How foolish of you. But, it's okay though. He'll make sure to correct that. "You'll come to understand, little one." His warm breath nipped against your ear. "I don't take no for an answer."

Before you could even muster a reply, Yandere! Soldier Sukuna already has an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I've been patient, but I'm done waiting," he growled, tone dangerously calm. You struggle against his grip, fists pounding against his toned chest to no avail while he merely stares at you with those deep, crimson orbs while he lets out a dark chuckle.

You yell profanities at him, but your words are cut off once he hoists you over his shoulder with ease. "Time to go, little one. You'll be much safer with me now."

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna carries you away from the bar, away from the city you called home and a sinking realization settles over you. You won't ever be able to escape from him.

[importantglittersuit]

Prisms of Parallels

An Invincible Multiverse chronicle

A Mark Grayson x Oc storyline

In the vast existence of the Multiverse, there are infinite possibilities, infinite outcomes. For each one there are events or people that change the course of each universe. This is one of them.

[Dimension:Unknown]

[Beachside territory] [location:unknown] [Date:unknown]

The soft caress of ocean waves lap against gold color sand. 

Winds create a gentle breeze to the pleasing climate.

Sitting in the sand, a young couple, husband and wife, sit alongside each other.

A new life swaddled in soft cotton, cooing curiously at the world around them, content in their arms.

A song falling from their lips was would only forever be hers.

Hers for life.

~

What is life in the eyes of the expanse that is the  universe? 

Fragility? 

Borrowed moments?

Truth?

A lie?

Such questions should not be on the mind of someone so young.

To be asking such questions at a funeral was both inappropriately appropriate and appropriately inappropriate. 

She wished her grandfather lived forever but that would not happen.

At least he left her with one that that would be immortal.

Wrapped up in blessing to her by incantations.

~

Change is not always linear.

It can be daunting or thrilling.

Never easy.

“I want to stay.”

Her parents exchanged a worried glance. She had voiced her displeasure and would not back down without a fight.

Yet it was necessary to have this change.

She refused to look at them, tears of frustration in her eyes.

“I want to stay home.”

“Home, is where we make it, little one.”

“No! Home is here! This is our home!”

She ran to her small room, upset, determined not to stay.

Her father found her hiding under a blanket as he hummed her song.

She peered from her shield of blankets, watching as he held a small floating orb of water, shaping it to any animal she loved.

Once she leaned against him did he say,” Home is where we make it, where you are, where your heart is.”

“But....it makes me sad.”

“It will not be forever. You are my little fighter. My little lobo. I believe in you. Can you believe in yourself?”

“....I can try.”

~

Change is not fun.

Is what she decided.

What she thought for days.

Being in a new place she doesn’t  know is not fun.

Not having friends is not fun. 

Being teased is not fun.

She glared at the seat in front of her on the school bus. Others were laughing too loudly or being too annoying. All day long they were like that.

She wanted to be apart of it cause it sounded fun.

At lunch, she liked to sit near the trees, listen to the wind, look at the birds and squirrels.

This made her strange to the other children.

A soft broken warble caught her attention; a baby bird had fallen out of its nest, injured. Scrambling to its aid, holding it in her hands; its small frail body covered in scrapes.

She looked around making sure no one was near before taking her water bottle, pouring water over the small hatchling.

The drops stopped falling before they hit the ground, reversed, before curling around the little bird. The liquid glowing until the bird chirped, fully healed.

She pet its head smiling.

~

Her love for animals turned to be the icebreaker between her and her classmates. 

It was exciting to share the love of animals with them making them reciprocate their joy of being with her.

She also loved people, abeit to a degree but loved them nonetheless.

Which is why she wanted to help.

Her parents did not share her enthusiasm however.

Definitely not when she asked her mother to craft her a suit that would adapt to her abilities seamlessly.

“Why don’t you support me?”

“Because it is dangerous!

“There are many people with powers helping people everyday!,” she argued.

“They can mean well all they want but will not mean well for you at the end! Not who they really work for!”

She blinked confused as her father held her shoulders:”You  want to help, that is noble, you want to protect that is who you are. But they do not see the way you do. Here and in many places they make the choice between being good people or saving people. They have no rules between the two only that you can’t be both.”

“Then I will make my own rules.”

Her father gritted his teeth as her mother sighed, looking for incantation book:”you can make your own but the difficulty is following them.”

~

Sighing, she let the agents drive past once again while hiding in an alley.

They were stubbornly persistent, she would give them that.

Yet, she could evade them however long they pleased until understood she was not interested in the slightest.

She looked around about to shift back when her mind sensed an energy spike manifesting.

She was quicker shifting her hand into sharp diamond aimed at this new presence.

Said presence blinked:”I just purchased this suit.”

His only response to his words was her narrowing her eyes at him. Well what he assumed were her eyes. Her liquid form simply gave her silhouette but no distinguishable features for him to identify her.

In simple terms, her identity was hidden and obscured from him.

He continued:”we’ve been watching you, fighting I mean. You do good work, make sure civilians are safe from harm. You don’t make too much of a mess but that’s usually unavoidable. We assume you mean no harm.”

She didn’t assure him of anything.

Opening his jacket, he pulled out a card:” Cecil Steadmen, I work with the GDA. I’d like to make you an offer.”

Lowering the arm that was diamond before returning it to liquid, she took the card, letting it swish around in the water.

This Cecil raised a brow:” Not a talker, that’s fine. Can I at least have your name?”

He was surprised when she simply disappeared into thin air.

Even despite calling his team to track her movements, how could they track the wind?

In all seriousness, how could they when she became the wind before materializing back into herself a good ways away.

Holding her side she winced, definitely sore, no open wound though as always but the strength training has been helping as of late.

Tapping the concrete wall, flexing her hand over the smooth surface did it open itself, the small compartment hiding her belongings, including her phone.

A lot of missed messages from her cousins.

They were waiting for her to start dinner.

~

It was helpful that most of her family knew of her abilities; each member had at least one themselves just not to the strength nor degree she had hers.

It was both a blessing and a curse as they say.

Luckily they were all past the age of it being their defining attribute as well as a means of envy.

They had other things to worry about.

For instance, today’s priority was lunch.

She was offered by one of the cousins to help pick up some burgers.

As they drove, her older cousin chuckled hearing their phones ping with message nonstop on what to get.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, her cousin couldn’t help but snicker:” cheer up. Today is Saturday. And Saturdays at BurgerMart are always fun.”

“Getting hamburgers on a Saturday during lunch rush is fun?”

“It’s fun because every Saturday there’s a cute cashier working. He’s not my type but nice to look at. I think he might be your type.”

Rolling her eyes again, she went inside to order the  burgers for everyone. Naturally it was a long line for the lunch rush.

When it was finally her turn, she realized her cousin wasn’t lying that the cashier boy was cute.

Perhaps she was staring too long because he looked up from the register to double take before coughing.

He stuttered:” wel-hmm! Welcome to BurgerMart! May I take your order?”

She tried her best to not smirk as his ears grew pink.

Looking at her phone then back at him, she couldn’t help it.

“Hmmm may you tell me which combo meal includes your phone number?”

It took him a moment to register what she said, his face turning scarlet when he did.

He stuttered for a few moments before squeaking:”I - I take my break in....ten minutes..”

“Then I guess I’m waiting ten minutes.”

He couldn’t function properly while taking the food order.

And once he was on his break, he couldn’t help but rub his neck, face still flushed.

As she put his information in her phone she asked:”Do you prefer Markus or Mark?”

“I actually prefer my middle name Sebastian.”

“Noted.”

“And you?”

She hummed placed a finger on his chest:”For now you can call me Loba. It means wolf in Spanish. It’s a nickname.”

He stuttered again as she walked away, not being able to tear his gaze from her. Once she was gone, he immediately called his best friend.

“Will! You won’t believe what just happened!”

His coworkers gave him a side eye.

“He’s not going to shut up about this for days, let alone today.”

“Kill me now.”

Their manager snapped at them to get back to work making them scramble yet one questioned:”what kind of nickname is wolf?

The other grabbed the mop:”I don’t know. Maybe it means something. Like something deeper.”

“I guess you’re right.”

They began to clean and mop, ignoring the tv playing in the background showing a hero that switched between water and solid diamond. Nameless yet strong.

[Dimension: Located]

A/N-My first go at a story, chapter total unknown as of yet. Always appreciate constructive criticism and advice as well as comment interactions or questions. Thank you.

[idle-daydreams]

Demon King

Tw: Yandere, kidnapping, mentions of murder, blood and violence, dub-con, non-con, mild(?) smut

A fire roared in a corner of the cavern, casting dancing shadows upon its stone walls. The air was scented with the metallic tang of blood, wafting from the carcass of the boar lying out outside the entrance. You cowered in the corner, trembling like a leaf before a storm.

As he gazed down at you, Chuuya felt a primal hunger rise within him.

“There, there,” he purred, reaching out to stroke your hair. “Everything’s gonna be all right.”

You flinched from his touch. Chuuya smiled. How cute.

“Is it the blood?” He looked at his bloodstained fingers, ending in black, claw-like nails. “Sorry about that. I didn’t get a chance to wash off.”

Your eyes flickered towards him, glinting through the dark curtain of your hair. Fear radiated off of you, the unmitigated terror of a prey caught in the jaws of a predator.

  As you squirmed, trying to shrink further into yourself, Chuuya reached out to grasp your neck. 

“Hey,” he said. “Hey, look at me.”

The look in your doe-like eyes nearly made him melt – anxiety, apprehension, artless innocence, framed in orbs red-rimmed from countless tears. Your pulse pattered erratically under his fingers, hands fluttering around his wrist in a bewildered effort to get him to let you go. It was adorable, like a tiny kitten trying to wrestle itself free.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “So long as I’m here, no one’s gonna hurt you. And so as long as you stay by my side, you’ll be safe, okay, [Y/N]?” He wanted to crow at the way your eyes widened. “Oh yes, I do know your name. I know all about you – where you live, what you do, how your pathetic family decided to sell you off for their own sakes.”

Chuuya suddenly loosened his grip. As you sank to the floor with a gasp, he leaned back on his arms, pleased with the fear and confusion fighting over your expression. Your lips – so soft, so kissable – turned into a small pout as you tried to make sense of his words.

“Please,” you finally managed, voice shaking. “I don’t know who you are, but please let me go. I promise I – I’ll give you whatever you want, all the money that I have—”

“I don’t need money,” he said. “I have more gold than anyone could ever give me. But I’m a little insulted that you don’t know me, [Y/N]. I would have thought you would have at least felt my presence and bothered to look me up.”

“N-no, I—I don’t know—” Your eyes darted nervously to the sides, towards the sake gourd sitting beside him. He picked it up and proffered it to you.

“Want some?” he asked. “It’s good, better than the bilge you humans normally drink. Don’t waste it by trying to attack me with it though – its not going to work.”

“Who are you?” you said desperately.

Chuuya cocked his head to the side. “My name is Chuuya, but you probably know me by my other name: Shuten-doji.”

You gasped. Chuuya’s smile widened, blood racing at the terror in your eyes.

“Oh good, so you do you know me,” he said.

“You – no,” you said, shaking your head. “Please – it’s not funny. You can’t be—”

“The Demon King? Oh, but I am.” He held his arms out wide. “Don’t I look like it? I’m better than any guy you’ve seen, right?”

You opened and closed your mouth, torn between dread, curiosity and awe. It excited him to just how much of an effect his title had on you, how much of an effect he had on you.

“You thought I was just some thug, didn’t you?” he said, leaning in so close that his nose brushed yours. “I do know my reputation amongst you humans, or rather that of my predecessor. A monster, a demon, a devourer of human flesh. A violent drunkard, a walking nightmare. Do I scare you, [Y/N]?”

Your face was blank now, moved beyond terror to numb incomprehension. Tremors wracked your body, chest heaving as your breath came out in little pants. You were so small, so weak, so fragile. A gentle little fawn, all for him to protect.

It was deliriously exhilarating.

Chuuya reached for you once again, grabbing you by the back of your hair. You whimpered, and desire ran through him once again.

“But I saw what your parents wanted to do,” he said, pulling you onto his lap. “You don’t think that was inhuman? Are you really okay with being sold off to that ancient tub of lard?”

“I-I wasn’t being sold,” you stammered, trying to squirm out of his grip. “My parents arranged a marriage—”

“Oh, please. You were sold. For less than what you’re worth, too.” Slowly, he forced the top of your kimono open, revealing the rounded mounds of your breasts.

“Please,” you began, flushing scarlet. “Please, I—”

“Be quiet,” he said, and began nuzzling your neck. You began to sob again, and the mewling sounds sent a new wave of ecstasy through him. He dipped his head lower, nipping and licking lazily at your throat and down your shoulder. Your skin was warm, as soft as the petals of a summer bloom; your scent was intoxicating, the taste of your skin heavenly.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, moving his hands down your shivering frame. “Watching you work yourself to the bone for those ungrateful brats you call a family. I’ve seen you take the yelling and the abuse, watched you hide your beauty and your grace just to fit in with those lecherous bastards you call your village.” He ran his fingers up your thighs towards your inner core. A moan slipped from your mouth, making him laugh.

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, tracing idle patterns along the inside of your thigh. “Oh, I’ve been watching you, my love. Watching you waste away, like a flower blooming in some putrid swamp. You deserve much more, so much more than what any of those ingrates can ever give you.” His fingers found you clit, and he deftly flickered at the rosy bud. You gasped again, clutching his arm, and buried your face in his chest.

“Please stop,” you said. “I – I’m going to be married in a month. My parents need me. My parents need me to—”

“To be a virgin? So that the old slob they’re selling you off to can get his money’s worth?” Chuuya smirked. “Don’t worry about it. I already ended his pathetic life, for daring to even think of taking what’s mine.”

You started, a new fear dawning in your eyes. “My parents,” you said. “What did you do to—”

“Relax, I didn’t do anything to them. I wanted to, but I knew you wouldn’t like it.” He continued to gently rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure pooling into your belly. “Not that I had to do anything to them: they were perfectly willing to cast you away for the right incentive.”

“W—” You let out a shuddering moan as the haze of bliss deepened— “what do you mean?”

“In exchange for you, of course,” Chuuya said idly. “I sent them some jewels in exchange for delivering you to the base of my mountain. They did give birth to you, so I suppose they must be rewarded for that. And I knew you wouldn’t rest until they were taken care of.” He smiled at you, drinking in the glazed look in your eyes, the flush of your skin, the heaving of your chest.

“You’re happy now, aren’t you?” he said softly. “I’ll make you so much happier, [Y/N], I promise. I’ll keep you happy, I’ll treat you how you deserve.”

“N-no.” To his amusement, you still tried to push him away. “No, you’re a demon. You eat people, you eat human flesh, you—”

“That was the guy before me,” Chuuya said dismissively. “I killed him a few decades ago before I took on his title. Cannibalism isn’t really my thing. Alcohol is so much better… and the taste of you, of course.”

“But why do you even want me? I—” You broke off as white-hot pleasure ran through you. You cried out, arching your back, as the world went white for one moment. As the sparks faded, Chuuya wrapped his free arm around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Why do I want you?” he repeated softly. “I want you to be my mate, [Y/N]. You are going to be my mate, the mate of the strongest demon in Japan. You’re going to be the wife of Shuten-doji.”

[rainforestakiie]

More Often AU

hello, another quick AU that popped into my head while writing Be Lonely with Me!

at the end, you can decide if Lucifer believes Adam or not~

Dear God by Confetti

The world was breaking, unraveling at its core. Heaven was falling apart, its light dimming into shadow. Hell endured, coping as it always had. Earth was dissolving, crumbling into the void. Souls splintered and cracked, emotions ran wild, uncontrolled and untamed. Adam sat on the edge, his legs swinging into the swirling abyss of purple and pink chaos beneath him. His golden, starlit eyes gazed upward, staring into the vast emptiness, because that’s all there was now. Sinners, Winners, Humans—they had all blurred into the same fragile thing. Two sides of a shattered coin. The Angels were losing their wings, the demons their horns. And humans—they were losing their sight, their very souls slipping away.

Adam remained still, bathed in silence. The golden star-shaped eye on his chest blinked open, casting faint, flickering sparks of light into the air, shimmering weakly around him. His wings—once radiant—lay in ruins behind him, fractured and jagged, like pieces of a broken mirror. Eight shattered wings, splayed out, reflecting the emptiness they once soared through.

His lips barely moved, settled into a weary line as he watched the universe tear itself apart, strand by strand, like old fabric coming undone. His hands rested in his lap, cold and numb, while his feet gently kicked at the nothingness below. A soft, tuneless hum escaped his lips, his golden eyes closing for a brief moment as his head tilted in a small, tired gesture.

"Dear God, where'd you go? You haven't been answering your phone," he sang softly, his voice distant, unearthly in his own ears. His mind, like his wings, had shattered into countless pieces—scattered across time itself, past, present, future all bleeding together. He saw the void this all led to, the nothingness behind everything. "Not sayin' I'm mad, but the world is fucked up. So you should come around more."

Orbs of purple, blue, green, and yellow drifted aimlessly through the air, as if lost in their own confusion. Every so often, a flash of white light zipped by, but Adam didn’t bother to notice. The vicious battle happening far to his left—it didn’t matter. None of it did.

Nothing ever changes.

"Oh dear God, I hate to say, people don't believe in you these days," he hummed, the melody a soft echo in the dying world. The golden eye on his chest glowed faintly, its light pulsing, shards of divine energy flickering in and out of existence around him. If he focused, he could almost see the remnants of others within those fragments, the echoes of something long lost. "Not saying I don't, but the world is fucked up. So you should come around more."

A soft yawn broke the silence, his ears pricking at the distant sound of the crumbling world, though he did nothing to stop it. He was too tired for that. Always tired now. He had lived through every cycle, played every role. He had been the villain, the hero, the redeemer, the destroyer. He had saved souls, damned them, lifted them up only to drag them down. Over and over again. And yet—nothing ever changed.

"I bite my tongue but can't change how I think," he whispered, quieter now, almost lost in the hum of the void. "I talk to you because I can't afford a shrink."

His golden eyes drifted lazily to the side, upwards, where the heavens screamed, a long, piercing wail, as they collided with the outer edge of Hell. The shattered remnants of Earth floated in the chaos, fragments of a world that had once been. Heaven was falling, tearing through everything in its path, as it always did, following the script written by God himself. Adam felt the tremor as the grand barrier—the universe’s final defense—quaked beneath the pressure. He knew it wouldn’t hold. In less than a minute, it would shatter. The weight of divine corruption always breaks through in the end.

"It's the everyday people who do the ugliest things," he sang softly, watching the cracks spiderweb across the multicolored barrier. He always found it strangely beautiful, how, when the end came, people would set aside their differences. It was never enough to change anything, but it was admirable in its own tragic way. "And it's never gon—never gonna change. So you should come around more."

No one had wanted to believe Heaven was falling. Sera had ignored the warnings, brushing them off, hiding the truth from the Winners and the other Angels. She refused to tell Emily until it was too late. Eventually, even the higher archangels became involved. You knew things were truly dire when Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael descended from the upper rings of Heaven, panic etched into their once-serene faces. Adam had always found it fascinating to watch the normally composed Michael grow more frantic as the celestial rings collapsed around them.

"Oh dear God, we haven't talked in a while. I'm all grown now, but still feel like a child," Adam sang, his gaze locking onto the first crack as it spread like branches, climbing higher and higher up the barrier. "And I'm sorry that I only holla when I need a favor. But all my people really need a Savior."

When Heaven came begging at the gates of Hell, it was clear the balance of the universe had finally tipped. Lucifer, of course, laughed in their faces, casting them aside like broken toys. He didn’t realize how serious things had become. None of them did. Hell had shrugged, telling Heaven to deal with it—it was only a few divine rings breaking. How hard could it be to fix? But it was that hard.

Heaven was falling. And as it tore through the earthly realm, everyone felt it—the humans burning away, their souls consumed before they even had a chance to be judged. No time to become a Sinner or a Winner, just obliterated in a blink of an eye.

Desperation brings strange alliances.

Soon enough, Lucifer relented, and Hell opened its gates to Heaven. The Sinners mocked the Winners, as they always did, but beneath the surface, everyone felt it—the dread, the slow unraveling of everything they knew. Sinners couldn’t grasp what was happening, and even the highest ranks of Hell struggled to devise a plan to save what little remained.

The irony.

There was hardly anything left to save.

"And the longer you go missing, the more the story’s twisting," Adam murmured, his voice soft, almost lost in the void. He breathed in deeply, feeling another pulse of golden light ripple through the fractured time and dimensions wrapped around him. His starlit eyes became half-lidded, the golden eye on his chest mirroring his gaze. "And people count the days to make their birthday wishes. And it’s never gon—never gonna change. So you should come around more."

Things had grown darker, more serious, when Lilith returned to Hell. The memories blurred together, too full of old tears and worn-out drama. Adam had grown numb to it all—he’d seen it so many times before, lived through every moment like a script he could recite from memory. The words, the rhythms, the patterns were all predictable now. His wings strained under the weight of each new feather, each new failure.

Heaven and Hell bickered endlessly—arguments, accusations, power plays. Sera and Lilith, Michael and Lucifer, Emily and Sera, Lilith and Lucifer even more often now. It was exhausting, watching it play out again and again. Charlie sat on the sidelines in stunned silence, unsure what to make of it all, while Vaggie held her hands, never leaving her side. The sight was almost painfully sweet. Sometimes they’d talk of marriage, sometimes they’d simply hold each other, once or twice dreaming aloud about having children—two, maybe three, running around. Adam supposed it was sad, in its own way.

Emily, brave as always, tried to hold it together for both the Winners and the Sinners. When the Sinners finally understood the gravity of the situation, their fear began to swell, and Emily’s hands were suddenly full. As the Seraphim of Emotions, she was their anchor, and soon enough, Sinners came flocking to her, desperate to confess their sins, their regrets. The darkness of their souls weighed heavy on her, far more than she had anticipated. But she smiled through it, kept her face brave and kind. Eventually, they began to look up to her, even more than they did to Charlie.

"And hiding is insulting your intelligence. That fake-ass walking 'round in Sunday’s best," Adam continued, stretching his arms above his head, a loud crack echoing through the silent void as he shifted. The barrier surrounding Pentagram City was crumbling, fractures meeting in the center like broken glass. "When they know the world revolves around money and sex. The worst people are the first to forget."

Then, with a sudden, inevitable shudder, the barrier shattered. It fell in glittering fragments, shimmering like snowflakes as they drifted down. Adam watched them fall, holding out his hand to catch the tiny sparkling pieces. Such a pity. Such a shame. It had been made by all of them—Lucifer, Michael, Sera, Emily, Lilith… even Eve. Yes, Eve had returned to help. Well, not Eve exactly—she called herself ‘Roo’ now, the root of all Evil. Adam snorted softly at the thought, watching as the fragments of the barrier danced across his golden-tipped fingers, the light crawling over his skin like bruises.

Funny how, when the end is near, everyone comes crawling out of the woodwork.

"Oh dear God, where’d you go?" Adam’s voice dropped to a whisper as he let his hand fall to the ground with a quiet thud. "You haven’t been answering your phone…"

"Not sayin’ I’m mad, but the world is fucked up," another voice called from behind him.

Adam didn’t need to look. He knew who it was. Lucifer slumped down beside him, the King of Hell looking as worn and exhausted as Adam had ever seen him. His magic was spent, drained, leaving nothing behind. He had done everything he could, just like the rest of them. Adam couldn’t hold it against him. Lucifer always gave his all when the end came. Adam had seen it countless times, over and over.

"So you should come around more," Lucifer sang quietly, his voice hollow, but not broken. Just resigned. Accepting that this was the end. "Oh dear God, I hate to say, people don’t believe in you these days."

Adam tilted his head. "Not saying I don’t, but the world is fucked up. So you should come around more."

A soft hum escaped Lucifer as he closed his eyes, resting his claws on the cracked ground beneath them. Slowly, he reached out, curling his fingers around Adam’s in a gesture so gentle it almost felt like an apology.

"Is this really it?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Hm," Adam nodded, rolling his shoulders in a slow, tired shrug. "Don’t feel bad. You really did do everything you could."

Lucifer frowned, his tired eyes searching Adam’s face for something—maybe hope, maybe reassurance—but found only the same weariness reflected back at him.

Lucifer let out a long sigh, his gaze distant as he stared at the fractured sky. Heaven was crumbling, falling like shattered glass, each piece taking more of the world with it. He had always known this moment would come, but acceptance still felt like swallowing shards of truth too sharp to hold.

"Was this always His plan?" Lucifer asked, his voice soft and full of quiet despair. "All of this… has it always been set in stone?"

Adam hummed, the sound light and airy as if Lucifer had asked something far too simple.

"Plans… scripts… they're just words, aren’t they?" His golden eyes, fractured like mirrors reflecting endless possibilities, flickered. "A path is a path until you step off it. But maybe stepping off is part of the plan too."

Lucifer frowned, the answer twisting in his mind but never settling. "How many times have you lived through this, Adam?"

Adam shrugged, his wings trembling slightly with the motion. "I lost count a long time ago," he said, his tone devoid of weight or emotion.

Lucifer’s brow furrowed as he looked at Adam more intently, searching his face for something—anything—that would give him clarity. "And how many times… how many times have you come to me? Have I helped? Have I ever really helped?"

At this, Adam chuckled, the sound low and soft, like a fading breeze.

"You ask questions that don’t need answers, Lucifer. It’s pointless. But…" He trailed off, his golden eyes drifting away as though watching something only he could see. "If it’ll give you peace…"

"I need to know," Lucifer said, his voice tight with a desperate edge. "I need to know how long you’ve been trapped in this endless cycle. Have I ever truly been there for you?"

Adam paused, his gaze growing soft, almost tender, before he reached out. His fingers, light as feathers, touched Lucifer’s cheek, his golden light glowing faintly against Lucifer’s worn skin. "Of course you have. You’ve always been there, whenever I decided to tell you the truth."

Lucifer swallowed, his throat tight. "You told me… and I believed you?"

"Not always," Adam replied with a knowing smile. "At first, you thought I was scheming. But I always managed to prove it, didn’t I?"

Lucifer’s shoulders sagged with a mix of relief and pain, the weight of countless lifetimes falling heavy on him. "And… were there times you didn’t tell me? Times you didn’t come to me at all?"

Adam’s smile faded, his eyes growing distant once more. "Of course there were," he whispered.

"I gave up a long time ago, Lucifer. Heaven always falls. Everyone always dies. Sometimes I wake up in Eden, and I tell you immediately. Other times…" His voice softened, laced with a quiet resignation. "Other times I do nothing. I just lie there, in the grass, and let things play out. Following the script, step by step, word by word."

"And it always leads to this," Lucifer muttered, gesturing up to the sky as Heaven continued its descent, tearing through the realms like an unstoppable force.

Adam nodded, his eyes flickering up to the sky, then back to Lucifer. "It never makes a difference. This is where it always ends."

The silence between them thickened, broken only by the distant rumble of the world coming apart. Lucifer’s grip on Adam’s hand tightened, his claws gently curling around his fingers as if holding on to the only thing left that hadn’t been destroyed.

"Why didn’t you come to me every time?" Lucifer asked, his voice pained, his grip firm. "Why didn’t you tell me, Adam?"

"Because I grew tired, Lucifer," Adam said softly. "Tired of fighting. Tired of hoping. When you know the outcome, over and over… it’s easier to stop trying."

Lucifer closed his eyes, his chest tightening with a mix of grief and guilt. "And I… I couldn’t stop it. No matter how many times you told me."

"You couldn’t," Adam agreed, squeezing Lucifer’s hand in return. "No one could. Not even me."

Lucifer let out a shaky breath, his heart heavy. He held onto Adam’s hand tighter, as if anchoring himself to this moment, to the only constant in the endless cycles they had both endured.

"But you were always there," Adam murmured, his voice soft, almost comforting. "Whenever I decided to tell you the truth, you were always there."

He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Even if you didn’t believe me at first."

Lucifer let out a weak chuckle, though it was tinged with sorrow. "I suppose I’ve never been the trusting type."

"Not at the start," Adam said, his voice light again. "But you came around. You always do."

Lucifer was silent for a moment, his eyes distant as he considered all that had been said. Finally, he turned back to Adam, his voice thick with emotion. "And when you didn’t come to me… when you chose to say nothing?"

Adam’s gaze softened, full of a sadness that had lived in him far too long. "Sometimes, I just wanted to see if anything would change if I let it all play out on its own. But it never does. Heaven falls. Everyone dies. Whether I tell you or not… it always ends like this."

Lucifer’s chest tightened, his heart aching with the weight of inevitability. "But this… this can’t be it, Adam. There has to be more than this."

Adam only smiled, his eyes distant, filled with the knowing of countless lifetimes. "Maybe. But I wouldn’t hold your breath."

Lucifer clenched his jaw, holding Adam’s hand even tighter, as if afraid to let go.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Adam didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let his thumb brush gently against Lucifer’s knuckles, a quiet gesture of comfort. "You’ve always tried, Lucifer. That’s more than most can say."

And so they sat there, side by side, as Heaven crumbled above them and the world slowly dissolved beneath their feet. Adam, the eternal witness, and Lucifer, the fallen king, holding on to each other as the end came once again.

"Adam…" Lucifer began quietly, his voice soft and intimate, as though afraid that the weight of his words might break the fragile space between them.

Adam responded with a quiet hum, his golden eyes barely flickering in acknowledgment. "Yeah?"

Lucifer shifted closer, his presence a comforting weight in the midst of the crumbling world around them. His claws, gentle despite their sharpness, traced up Adam’s arm, caressing the soft skin of his cheek, before gliding down the curve of his throat, lingering there. "Can I ask one more thing of you?" His voice was tender, laced with a vulnerability that Lucifer rarely allowed himself to show. "Though I suspect I might’ve asked it before."

Adam tilted his head, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You might have."

Lucifer’s breath ghosted over Adam’s lips as he leaned in closer, the unspoken request lingering in the air between them. "Can I kiss you? One last time?"

Adam chuckled softly, his voice filled with both warmth and a weary familiarity. "And I always say the same thing, don’t I?" His gaze softened as he looked up into Lucifer’s eyes. "You don’t have to ask."

A slow, loving smile spread across Lucifer’s lips as he closed the distance between them. With a tenderness that seemed almost impossible for the King of Hell, he pressed his lips against Adam’s in a sweet, lingering kiss. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, the weight of countless lifetimes, endless cycles, all captured in the simple act of their union.

As Lucifer kissed him, Adam felt the familiar pulse of golden power flare from the eye on his chest, a warmth that spread through his body, a power that hummed and vibrated with life. The air around them shimmered, the sound of the crumbling world fading into an echo. Adam’s ears rang with the pressure of it, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

And then, just like that, Adam opened his eyes to find himself lying in the soft grass of Eden once more.

The world had reset. Again.

The dawn of Heaven's fall was upon him, the sky bright and unmarred, as if the destruction and chaos from moments before had never existed. Adam blinked, his fingers pressing into the cool earth beneath him. It was always the same. The endless cycle, resetting with precision, every time Heaven crumbled, every time the world dissolved.

The familiar weight of inevitability settled in his chest, but for now, there was only silence—the quiet before the storm. Adam closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the untouched garden, waiting for the world to fall apart again.

And like clockwork, the familiar call reached Adam, pulling him from the quiet hum of the universe resetting itself.

"Adam?" came Lucifer’s voice, bright and innocent in its familiar way. His once regal robes were now a pure white and soft blue, the attire of an Archangel. His wings gleamed, unblemished, feathers fluttering lightly in the calm Eden air.

"Daydreaming again? Will you tell me about them? I love it when you share your dreams!"

Adam lifted his gaze slowly, eyeing the pristine figure of Lucifer as he hovered above him, unaware of the endless cycle that would eventually shatter him. With a sigh that carried lifetimes of knowing, Adam stretched out a hand, his fingers brushing Lucifer's smooth cheek. The warmth of the Archangel’s skin beneath his touch was real—too real—and it brought a flicker of emotion to Adam’s hollow heart.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected touch, a soft flush spreading across his pale blue cheeks. "Adam?" he began, a confused smile forming, only for his words to falter as Adam rose.

Without a word, Adam pressed his lips softly against Lucifer's. The kiss was gentle, tender—a brief moment of connection amidst an eternity of endless cycles. For a moment, Lucifer froze, his wings twitching, his breath caught in his throat. But soon, he melted into the kiss, lowering himself to sit on the grass beside Adam, his dazed eyes filled with wonder and confusion.

When Adam pulled away, Lucifer's wings fluttered behind him, and his expression was one of pure adoration. A dreamy smile curved across his lips as he blinked in a daze. "Adam? Why did you do that?"

Adam sighed again, his hand slipping down to rest on Lucifer’s lap, his golden eyes weary but full of something like affection. "Lucifer," he began softly, "will you listen to me? I have something important to tell you."

The innocence in Lucifer’s eyes flickered with curiosity, the smile never fading, though the weight of Adam’s tone seemed to reach him. "Of course, Adam. I always listen to you."

Adam’s gaze lingered on him, on this pure version of Lucifer, still untouched by the darkness he would eventually bear, still so full of light.

"What if I told you," Adam said, his voice a whisper as if sharing a secret, "that we've been here before... many, many times?"

Lucifer tilted his head, confusion deepening. "Here before? What do you mean? Is this one of your dreams again?"

Adam let out a soft laugh, but it was hollow, devoid of true humor. "You could say that. But this… this isn’t just a dream. It’s a cycle. Heaven falls. Hell rises. The world crumbles, and everything—everyone—dies. And then… I wake up here. Again and again."

His voice grew quieter, but the weight of his words pressed heavily on the air between them.

"I’ve lost count of how many times, Lucifer."

[adarssuggestionbox]

Maddness

Celebrimbor Week- Day 5 (What if)

@the-southlands

Celebrimbor's POV

Celebrimbor - *My morning was rightfully somber. How does one cope with such a truth? His words echo in my head, causing my chest to tighten.*- Perhaps I am mad for feeling the need to keep him? No "right" person would... Would they?-

*I pace in thought around a small table filled with luncheon, still mulling over all that has happened between us.* - Perhaps it is true. Like my kin of old, I am not "right".- *The garden is the only thing keeping my feet remotely planted to the ground.*

Adar- *I hardly notice him taking a seat. He is silent, only staring at me with pain still lingering in his eyes.*

Celebrimbor- *A startled gasp jumps out of my throat.* Goodness Deary, I didn't see you there! *I place a hand on my chest when I take a breath. Finally, when my mind is forced back into place, I take a seat across from him.*

Adar-* He cannot look at me, nor does he move to fill his plate.*

Celebrimbor- *I similarly mirror him, though my intense eyes are drenched with longing. I want so badly to lay my head upon his shoulder.*- The vast silence between us seems to stretch on for as long as the sky.-

Celebrimbor- What if it didn't happen? *I call out to him, finally breaking the tension. My words seem to create a different type of stress that is also laced with empathy.*

Adar- *He lifts his head, raising a brow. However, my peculiar question does not douse the guilt on his face.* Come again?

Celebrimbor- *I am silent in thought, giving myself time to think.* Your first ever encounter with my city. What if you never... *I pause again, choosing words carefully.* What if you never "visited"?

Adar- *A helpless air fell about him when his eyes dropped in sadness* Then I suppose I would not be here before you.

Celebrimbor- *Without a word, I stand walking to my uruk to stroke his cheek.* I should say we ought to be thankful for that much, then. * I lean down, wrapping my arms around Adar*

Adar- *Small tears of what I am sure are mixed feelings trail down each of his cheeks.* -How could I be so cruel?-

How can you say such things after knowing of the tragedies I have caused? *He hangs his head, shaking it several times. His hands cover his face.*

Celebrimbor- How could I not when you've made all the right choices since then? *I lift, petting his hair as gently as sprinkling rain* - Truly, I must be mad.-

Adar - *he lifts suddenly, staring at me with tear-streaked cheeks.*

Celebrimbor- *I lock eyes with him, unmoving with depth that only stars can tell. I am sure his magnificent ice blue orbs have seen horror just as I have. However, the love I see in them reaches deeper than the earth goes.* - Perhaps I may be mad, but it still is right regardless of circumstances?-

*A grave amount of shaking accompanies my movement as I lean into him. Our lips touch only for me to easily part them, sliding my tongue in.*

*Our tongues dance about sending us each into vulnerability with whimpering breaths before I pull away.*

Adar- *His eyes reveal something fragile that lurks far below his surface. I cannot place it specifically, though I am sure it is similar to my own hidden state in some way.*

*Before I can think about it too deeply, I feel his rough tongue grace my lips and nose*

Celebrimbor- *I cannot restrain a surprised giggle* It feels like that of a kitten's kiss.

Adar- *His lips curve up when his cheeks darken. A sheepish coo rolls out from his mouth.*

Celebrimbor- *I easily pull him out from the table to straddle his lap* What if you were to tell me more about this delicate side you keep hidden?

Adar- *His stone demeanor all but melts away. Shyness takes over his shoulders when they hunch. He looks to the side of the garden where my red roses grow. * Then you will likely find that we are the same in our need to bend and kneel before a lover. However, I simply pûr and you adorn your hair with a tiara.

Celebrimbor- *My heart swells at such a sweet sentiment.* -Yes, this is right indeed.-

*As tragic as our original fate was, I can say I think I could be happy that it all came to pass. For if it did not, I may not have found such a beautiful love hidden in ashes.*

*I cup the side of his face, turning his head to look into his eyes.* Even as yielding as I am, I would adore pampering a kitten like you. Can you accept that I cannot take charge as Elrond? I've seen him take the lead with you... I am not that type. Is that still something your heart needs?

Adar- *A roaring pûr of happiness erupts so loudly I swear I feel it wrapping around us like a blanket. The next thing I know, he is showering my face with licks in-between trîls*

Celebrimbor- *I explode giggling under his affection.* I love you too, kitten! * I squeak in laughter, playfully licking his lips back. I cannot resist snuggling up against his chest when I offer him a forkful of delicious greens.* Shall we take turns feeding one another?

Adar- *A long trîl followed by another one of those darling coos escaped him. He giggles in return, taking the bite only to hold up a potato stabbed by his fork for me.* 

[sorcerous-caress]

I accidentally broke up with Gale and he was like "Oh I see thats disappointing. Youve actually caught me at an inopportune time. Blasted dust in my eye. Excuse me." Highkey broke my heart but the heart wrenching whump is hitting the right spot. Could you write a little something post that discussion maybe from Gales pov?

The Hanged Man | Gale

[Angst, character study, break up, nb!reader]

Gale's thoughts after you break up with him

"Oh" a fool.

"I see." A smitten fool, that's all he was.

The orb pulses inside his chest, tugging his heartstrings along and squeezing the fragile organ painfully.

He can't let you see, he must keep it inside.

"That's disappointing." He can't even hear his own voice as he chokes the words out. A burning hellfire gagging his throat and making each word a struggle to force out.

A struggle to seem unbroken in front of you, to tug his shattered heart pieces back into place and hold them as their sharp edges dig into his fingers, a pathetic performance.

You're looking at him, the concern in your eyes, the furrow of your eyebrows.

Your lips are parting, the same lips he felt melt against his own each night, the same lips that kissed so delicately against his neck, down his chest and between his legs.

For a second his brain flashes back to your previous kiss, a mere hours ago. Your last ever kiss together. How could he have known it was the last? He would've prolonged it if he could turn back time, kissed you with more passion, more tenderness, for longer as he poured all of his love into that one final kiss.

The corners of his lips twitch as his muscles forcefully smoothe out his frown, not in front of you, not now.

"You've actually caught me at an inappropriate time," the words are formal, rehearsed, academically appropriate. The words that got his previous teachers to not dig too deep into his personal business, to allow him to keep his own dignity, to bury his emotions until he was back at the comfort of his own home.

Where is that damned cat when he needs her the most?

He almost begs. Like a snivelling child crying for their mom to come pick them up from school, he almost begs whatever god out there for Tara to appear from thin air and save him from this situation.

"Blasted dust" his voice cracks.

Covering his own eyes as if to rub the dust away, he conceals the tears escaping his soul, like acid burning his flesh in shame.

"In my eyes." He trails off, swallowing back a sob. He is already turning away, shielding what remains of his fragile wound from your judging gaze, "excuse me."

And he doesn't look back.

A silence spell would keep his dignity, a silence spell would allow him to save face as he crashes into the soft bedroll inside his tent.

Books scattered around, not a sign of a single cat hair for him to annoyingly roll his eyes at, not even a small scratch of claws on the hard covers.

Tara is not here, for the first time in ages, he is truly by himself.

To love and be loved, that's all he asked for. That's all he longed for, god or mortal made no difference for him.

But it's too much to ask for, isn't it? What's a wizard if not fated for a lifetime of solitude.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't replace his longing for companionship. Because at the end of the day, none of his books would hug him back.

Gale closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as the silence spell diminishes from around him. Not that he could concentrate at his current state of mind, a headache is already making itself at home in the front of his head.

A fluttering of wings, a gentle nudge against his limp body.

"Mr.dekarios?"

[qin-qin16]

56 classicmare

56. MONSTER

Pairing. Sans x Nightmare Content. SFW! Toxic relationship, the worst situation ship ever, someone help the poor sans A/N. IS THE QUEEN HERSELF LADY GAGAAAAA

Drops trickled down his skull, running in trembling, crooked lines along his bones, just like the crooked smile that persisted in faltering on Sans' face. The sticky appendage continued to slither around his body; the black goo it emitted stained his already dirty clothes, clinging to his bones as though it wanted to be absorbed into them. Sans couldn’t even stand on solid ground anymore, hovering above the thick layer of snow no one had bothered to clear.

"Heh, it's been a while, huh?" Sans tried to make small talk, even though his eyelights were glued to the tip of the tentacle, too close to his eye sockets for his liking. "I didn’t know you missed me this much—!" His words were caught in his vertebrae, interrupted by an abrupt gasp as the grip around his neck tightened, the appendage slowly winding itself further around his body, like a serpent coiling around a mouse.

It was the dark figure's turn to smirk widely, letting the large bluish orb on their face roll over Sans' anxious form, clearly enjoying the suffering of their favorite toy. "Oh, please, don't think your taunts will get you out of here that quickly," they purred, pulling the other closer to their body, feeling the poor monster’s soul pulse against their chest as they whispered by his skull, "At least, not this time~" Ah, how Nightmare loved feeling Sans tremble against them, wavering in their attachment like a little animal about to be hunted.

But it wasn’t like he truly wanted to end Sans' miserable life — no, not yet. There was still a spark, a flames flickering in those eyelights like a glimpse of the fierce fight against the venomous promises Nightmare had whispered to him, murmured against his temple during sleepless nights. When he allowed the nightmares to creep in through his window.

"Really?" Oh? So there was still some breath left in those fragile bones, "That's what you said last time, remember?" Even with his vertebrae burning, feeling that damn tar slipping through the tiny gaps in his bones, Sans still mocked his pursuer, a sense of satisfaction rippling through his soul as the pressure around his neck loosened, though it still didn’t release him.

"You’re hilarious!" Nightmare laughed loudly, disbelieving at the remnants of Sans' strength — especially with the words he used with the little breath he had left. "It’ll be a pleasure to finally break that resistance of yours once and for all..."

[burning-academia-if]

Lars + sunlight, please!

Lars and sunlight!

“You’re like a vampire.” You bite your inner cheek to stop the grin from spreading across your face. “When was the last time you went outside.”

            Lars squints up at the sky, “For my patrols and for classes.”

            “And both are in the evening. Further proving my point.” He throws you a withering stare, and you ignore him. You’d managed to drag him out, on the basis of whatever fragile connection you’ve managed to build up with him. You hadn’t actually thought he’d agree to go with you. But you were starting to realize that as grumpy as he could be, there was a chance he’d go along with you.

            He might not be happy about it, but he was certainly here with you. He looked ready to burn the whole down, but still. You’d take the wins where could get them.

            “You haven’t told me where we’re going.”

            “I’m working on it—”

            “You dragged me out without any plans?” He turns, ready to leave and already done with your shenanigans.

            Without missing a beat, you jump to stand in front of the door leading back into the grad students’ dorms, “Just go with me. Please?”

            “I’d say no, but then you’ll be annoying as hell about it.” With his permission, or the closest you’ll get to it, you take the lead and try to think of something to do. You hadn’t thought very far ahead, since you’d expected him to say no.

            Now that you thought of it, there was actually one place you’d always wanted to go, “Hey, isn’t there something on the roof of the old theater.”

            His cold look morphed into a biting grin, “Dragging me back to my job, are we?”

            “We’ll be outside. It’s different. Just come on.” He followed behind, expression still twisted in displeasure. Any further attempts at small talk was met with one word answers, but you could keep up a conversation for two on your own, at least.

            At the old theater, there was a ladder on one of the side walls to climb up of. The paint on the railings had long since peeled, and when you squinted up you thought some of the bolts looked just a little loose.

            Lars swung himself up without hesitation, “Let’s get this over with them.”

            “Uh, it’s safe?”

            “It’d suck for you if it wasn’t.” It wasn’t the most reassuring, but you followed after him anyway. The faint sway of the metal creaking under both you weight made no promises to not collapse. Lars didn’t act like he noticed, so you kept going. This was your idea, after all.

            You let out a breath when you swung yourself up and over, landing solidly on less then solid ground. It was a wonder how this place hadn’t been torn down. Lars was already half way across the roof, looking like he already knew what was here. His hands reached underneath what looked to be one of the vents. He stuck his hand in with little care, and pulled out a box.

            “Here.” He tossed it towards you and you managed to catch it.

            “What’s this?” You glanced down, and you noticed it was a small wooden box with a glass panel on top. Little orbs of light floated inside, looking like their own little suns of varying colors.

            Lars shrugged, “Tradition. Whenever someone joins the Student Wardens, they put a little piece of their magic in there. Since heart magicians’ magic looks like colored light, you get that.”

            Your fingers traced over the glass, watching the orbs of light drift around inside, “Which one’s yours?”

            “Figure it out.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking as bothered as ever.

            You couldn’t stop your smile this time, “You know, it was nice of you to share.”

            “Don’t.”

            “What? I can’t even call you nice?”

            “No. Because it’s a fucking lie.”

            You were laughing now, cradling the cause of magic against your chest, “At least your self aware. But really, thanks.”             He merely shrugged, and your eyes glanced down at the box again. All the different colors, but Lars magic stood out to you. The deep dark red. It looked more like the fall of sunset, as such a tiny orb. Lars wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, so you tucked that information away. Maybe, Lars magic wasn’t always what he made it out to be.

[anonymouswriter2311]

For the prompt asking #185.

"I don't want to hurt you" "I'd like to see you try"

For Mad Archer. Please. When you have the time or the intrest.

A Kiss Amid Chaos- Mad Archer

***

Robin Mills crouched behind a crumbling statue, her bow drawn tight as her eyes scanned the shadowy chamber. The flickering light from the sorceress’s magical traps cast eerie shapes on the stone walls, but Robin’s focus was sharp. Across the room, Alice darted between columns like a wild animal—quick, unpredictable, and utterly fearless.

“Stop running around like a lunatic!” Robin hissed, loosing an arrow at a dark orb hurtling toward Alice. It shattered on impact, raining sparks that lit up Alice’s grin.

“I wasn’t running,” Alice said, crouching low behind an overturned altar. “I was strategically repositioning.”

“You were being reckless.” Robin’s voice was clipped, her irritation palpable.

Alice peeked around the corner of the altar, her golden hair messy from the fight, her face smudged with soot. “And yet, here I am—perfectly fine, thanks to your sharp aim.” She gave Robin a quick wink before vanishing again.

Robin let out a frustrated breath. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer ‘charming,’ actually!” Alice’s voice echoed from somewhere deeper in the chamber.

Robin muttered under her breath, shifting her position as the sorceress reappeared in the center of the room. The woman was tall and imposing, her dark robes billowing unnaturally as she raised her glowing staff.

“Mortals,” the sorceress intoned, her voice cold and echoing. “Do you think you can defy me? You will fall, just like all who have dared before you.”

Robin sighed. “Here comes the monologue.”

Alice’s laughter rang out from the shadows. “Oh, let her have her moment, Nobin. You know villains live for this stuff.”

“Which is why I’d prefer to end it sooner rather than later,” Robin snapped, firing another arrow at the sorceress. It bounced harmlessly off a magical shield.

The sorceress turned her glowing eyes toward Robin. “You will regret that, child.”

“I’ve regretted a lot of things,” Robin muttered, drawing another arrow. “This won’t be one of them.”

Suddenly, Alice burst into the open, sprinting straight for the altar at the far end of the room, where a spool of shimmering silver thread floated in a magical bubble.

“Are you serious right now?!” Robin shouted, firing an arrow to cover Alice as dark energy crackled toward her.

Alice slid behind a pillar just in time, her laughter echoing again. “Oh, come on, love! Where’s your sense of fun?”

“This isn’t fun!” Robin growled, her eyes flicking between Alice and the advancing sorceress.

“It is if you stop worrying for five seconds!” Alice called back, poking her head out.

Robin snapped, “I don’t want to hurt you!”

Alice froze for a moment, then slowly stepped out into the open, her face alight with mischief. “Hurt me?” she repeated, tilting her head.

“Yes!” Robin barked, exasperated. “If you keep pulling stunts like this, you’re going to make me do something I regret!”

Alice grinned, leaning against the altar like she had all the time in the world. “I’d like to see you try.”

Robin’s heart stuttered, caught between anger and something far more confusing. “What does that even mean?!”

Alice shrugged. “Means I’m not as fragile as you think, Nobin.” She gestured dramatically to herself. “Tower girl, remember? I’ve seen worse.”

Robin groaned. “You are infuriating.”

“And yet, here we are,” Alice said, tossing a small dagger between her hands like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Partners. Besties. A dynamic duo, if you will…something more.”

Robin didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she turned her focus back to the sorceress, who was advancing on Alice with dark energy crackling around her.

“Watch out!” Robin shouted, sprinting forward and firing an arrow that shattered the spell inches from Alice’s head.

Alice blinked, startled. “Oh. That was close. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Robin bit out, grabbing Alice’s wrist and yanking her behind cover. “Now stay out of trouble for two seconds, will you?”

Alice opened her mouth to retort but stopped when she saw the flash of real fear in Robin’s eyes. Her grin softened. “You really don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

Robin sighed, lowering her bow. “No, Alice. I don’t.” Her voice was quieter now, edged with something vulnerable. “But if I lose you because you won’t take this seriously…”

Alice tilted her head, studying Robin’s face like it was a puzzle she was trying to solve. Then, slowly, she reached out and patted Robin’s arm. “You’re cute when you’re worried, you know that?”

Robin scowled. “I’m not—”

“Shhh,” Alice said, pressing a finger to Robin’s lips. “Big scary sorceress, remember? Let’s save the heart-to-hearts for later.”

Robin swatted her hand away. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Good.” Alice grinned, pulling out her knife. “Now, cover me.”

With that, she was off again, darting toward the altar with a burst of reckless energy. Robin cursed under her breath, firing arrows at the sorceress to keep her distracted.

Alice reached the altar just as the sorceress unleashed a wave of dark magic. “Catch!” she shouted, tossing the silver thread toward Robin.

Robin caught it midair, quickly nocking it to her bow. The thread pulsed with energy, but Robin didn’t hesitate. “This ends now,” she muttered, letting the arrow fly.

The silver thread struck the sorceress’s staff, shattering it in a blinding explosion of light. When the dust cleared, the sorceress was gone, and the chamber was silent.

Robin lowered her bow, exhaling slowly. “Finally.”

Alice strolled over, her hands in her pockets and a smirk on her face. “Nice shot, Nobin.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You’re lucky I didn’t aim at you.”

“Please. You’d miss me too much,” Alice said breezily.

Robin opened her mouth to argue, but Alice stepped closer, her grin softening. “You know,” she said, her voice lower now, “if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just asked.”

Robin blinked. “What?”

Alice patted her on the shoulder, then leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek. The touch was quick and fleeting, but it left Robin frozen in place.

“Next time,” Alice said, stepping back with a wink, “just ask me to dinner instead of dragging me into a death trap.”

Before Robin could respond, Alice turned and strolled toward the exit, leaving Robin standing there with her heart pounding and her cheeks burning.

“Unbelievable,” Robin muttered, slinging her bow over her shoulder. But despite herself, she couldn’t stop the small smile creeping across her lips as she followed Alice into the sunlight, her fingers tracing Alice’s kiss.

[elysianightsss]

Baker!Techno x reader

Wont ever stop plum.

Warning: beware of the honeycomb, PTSD, hinted drugging, mention of gunshots.

Your eyes blink open taking in the sight of the white sheer curtains flowing softly in the warm breeze, the feel of the gentle cotton sheets against your body did nothing to pull you out of your hazy sleep.

Things you don’t remember, places you’ve never been, a true dream if you’ve ever had one full of fiction and mistrustful information. It could never be true so you don’t dwell on the fragments of you in the desert that are fracturing your already fragile state of mind.

Your delicious baker always tells you not to think too much, with everything you’ve been through all you should be doing is relaxing.

But what had you been through is the real question.

You breathe deeply taking in the breath taking smell of cinnamon sweet buns downstairs, ears twitching at what you think is the radio playing in the background. Someone muttering something about India, hotel alpha victor echo, hotel echo Romeo, you don’t know not paying attention to such frivolous matters.

Instead you roll over onto your side eyes going to the French doors that are open giving you a full view of the blue sky, sun shining but not high enough for it to be midday. You recon it’s nine, possibly ten. The smell of fresh cut grass tells you that Techno had been up since about six am to do all the chores before you could even offer.

He was very passionate about you finishing the last two books of your favourite series and you can’t do that if you’re distracting yourself with silly things like chores. His words, not yours.

Breathing deeply once more not wanting to spike your heart rate, somehow your man always knows. It’s rather strange but it’s another thing on the list of things you shouldn’t dwell on. Catching a wiff of rain in the air, you can tell that the vineyard, you have as your beautiful back garden, got the drink it desperately needed last night.

Finally thinking you’ve given your baker enough time to ice those sweet buns you pull yourself from the sheets however groggy, you manage to slip on a silk robe and stagger your way through your home.

Your kitchen was Techno’s pride and joy, besides you of course, he designed it and got some friends of his to help build it. It is the definition of a baker’s dream, equipped with a state of the art pizza oven and four electric ovens for his exquisite bakery dishes adding a crisp texture, to delightful cookies and puffs.

Your tired eyes scan the kitchen quickly latching onto the sight of sixteen sweet buns waiting for you. You pad over ready to reach for one of the freshly iced cinnamon buns only to be stopped by your baker.

“Ah ah ah, this first.” A smooth piece of golden honeycomb appears in front of your face instantly making you salivate. You take it putting it to your lips, taking small licks before sucking on an edge missing the way Techno groans under his breath.

“Take such good care of me.” You mumble mouth a little full, eyes fluttering shut with a soft hum.

“Won’t ever stop plum.” His lips skim your forehead. He’s so sweet and so sincere. He’s genuine and loving. Everything he is always is. Not even a hint of darkness swirling in his eyes. Not even a spec.

Gunshots and the smell of dusty sand echo through his senses as his darkening orbs dart around your face while you suck on the sweet honeycomb.

“How’d you sleep plum?” He asks an arm curling around your waist pulling you against his warm body. With no shirt covering his hairy chest and a bit of pudge from all the taste testing. Wearing a simple pair of basketball shorts you whimper at the feel of him pressed up against you.

You nod eyes still closed, taking more of the honeycomb into your mouth to suckle on laying your head on his chest too. “Maybe you could use a bit more of it hm?” He hums in your ear before sucking your earlobe into his mouth, raking his teeth over it. “I think that’s a good idea, why don’t we cuddle for a while hmm?”

You nod, feeling disoriented letting Techno guide you to the bed you’d just left. His thick fingers stroking your head gently as he slips in behind you, holding you tight. “Let it happen plum.” He whispers, and you do eyes fluttering shut. All memories of that desert that had started to form in your head, gone.

[prismaticpichu]

How do you think zack would react to sephiroth's wing? (with seph ofc being disgusted and ashamed of it) :3

Dhdhhdhdhdhhddh! That PREMISE, ANON! <333

In a world where sane!Seph has his wing…

~

“Bud..?”

Slowly, Sephiroth lifted his gaze from the wretched stretch of plumage bleeding like an oil spill from his side, draconic eyes seeming to widen and flicker as they met the unyielding light of Mako-blue.

And Sephiroth read those eyes, reading them like a book that held all the answers to his world.

And he read them.

And read.

And read.

And read.

And read.

And read…

…

And the light in those blue eyes never went out.

“You know this doesn’t change anything… right?” Zack’s voice was nothing more than a tender whisper as he reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “This doesn’t change a single thing.”

Sephiroth didn’t have the words, subdued into silence by the inexplicable understanding in his friend’s words, only able to muster a quiet swallow as his wing quivered and twitched against his side.

“But…” He said after a few beats, the warrior’s tone shrinking in his throat. “How… how can you…—“

“How can I say that?” Zack finished kindly, without blame, a small and delicate smile budding on the First’s lips. “Because it’s the truth, pal. Wing or no wing… you’re still Seph. You’re human. You’re still my best friend. And nothing is gonna ever change that.”

Sephiroth couldn’t remember the last time he felt his lips quiver, struggling to remember the last time he had felt the burning swell of mist trying to rise in his eyes. He blinked and bit to suppress both sensations, the draconic slits expanding to orbs, glistening wetly against the cool jade waters surrounding them.

“But…” He couldn’t help but say, the hesitations not all yet assuaged. “Genesis, Angeal… their wings… They said it made them…” And the man shook his head, silver bangs swaying defiantly at the memory.

“Hey, hey…” Zack got out of his chair, having pulled it over to be closer to his treasured friend, and kneeled in front of him to clutch his quivering hands. “Don’t say that, bud. You and me… we know that’s not true. ‘Geal, Genesis… it wasn’t the wings that made them inhuman. Heck—it wasn’t the experiments or even the degradation as a whole…” His eyes saddened for a moment, glossing over with their own tide of melancholy, a fragile sheen that coated the sapphires as they gazed deep into the emeralds again. “..None of that physical stuff made them inhuman, pal. It was the decisions they made… And—and I don’t know if it was degradation twisting their minds, but… you would never hurt anyone like they did, bud. You would never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. You did everything in your power to protect those two, even when they turned their backs on us.” He squeezed his friend’s hand tighter, squeezing all his promises and pleas and words unspoken into the loving gesture, trying and fighting to squeeze the poisonous thoughts out of his system as a man would wring a cloth.

“And that’s what makes you human, Seph.”

And he reached out, running his fingers through the velvety terrain of feathers, his nails gingerly grazing the glistening stretch of of night like someone tracing constellations stars in the sky, gliding and drawing and tracing because he knew the appendage would never hurt him.

“Undeniably and wholly human.”

When the teardrop fell from Sephiroth’s eyes, it felt slowly, like a drop of dew rolling off the wilting pressure of a petal, trailing down from his glimmering eyes and plunking softly onto the desk. Armored shoulders began to tremble, rising and quivering to the rhythm of his bridled breath and then falling back down again, the plated shift of metal and muscle ringing quietly around the office.

He—he just didn’t understand it. Couldn’t process it. How… how could someone so scarred and wounded walk into an office with and see him with his wing unfurled, having revealed in an impulsive bout of reflection, and not be disgusted or terrified? How could Zack not see what he saw in the unholy white feathers of Angeal or the scraggly ashes of Genesis? How could he but be abhorred, or appalled, or… or angry at him for keeping such a secret? How could he not immediately question where it came from; how could he not question if he was apart of the scheme; how could he not question everything about him, breaking him apart, looking at each plume like a symbol of cruelty and inhumanity and question everything he had ever known to he true about him?

How… how could he still love him as much as he did?

Overwhelmed, Sephiroth squeezed his friend’s hand in turn, biting his lip and swatting his eyes and shaking his head once more.

“Oh, buddy…”

As the arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to his chest, Sephiroth did all but try to resist the warm and assuaging embrace, sinking deep into his best friend’s shoulder and letting the rivers flow. Quivering and straining, Sephiroth buried his face deep into the familiar threads, lifting his own arms to enfold around the First in an unspeakable display of gratitude and trust, his throat clogged and smothered with the blessed emotions he felt at being blessed with such a wonderful friend. He held him closer, unnatural silver hair cascading down his sides, celestial catlike slits open to glowing green fissures, and lifted his wing to envelope their embrace in another layer of warmth and protection, cocooning both him and his cherished friend in a swaddle of silky feathers.

And when Zack did nothing but sink further into the embrace, unruffled and unafraid, Sephiroth knew the truth.

“I… I am human…” he whispered shakily, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

Only he did.

He believed it with all his heart.

Because a monster couldn’t feel love like this.

Young, strong arms squeezed him tighter, nuzzling deep into the crook of his neck, holding him closer and against his heart and feeling every beat of Zack’s heart drum against his own.

“There’s the Seph I know and love…” he smiled gently. “Doesn’t believe any kind of crap.”

Quivering lips curled into a faint smile of his own, emerald eyes blinking hazily against the teary pebbles beading his lashes.

And he tightened his wing around them, blanketing them both, cherishing its warmth for the first time since inhuman hands had grafted it into his skin.

And he thought about how beautiful the truth could be.