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rainsnap · 6 months

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Kit of Secrets - A Hollyleaf AU

Part 1

When Leafpool and Crowfeather’s secret was revealed to the clans. Both cats struggled to find their places in their clans once more. One day, Nightcloud approached Crowfeather with a proposition: she was pregnant by a loner, who, upon hearing of her pregnancy, fled. Afraid that her kits would be raised in hostility, she asks Crowfeather to pretend to be their father. As a means for both of them to be seen as loyal Windclan warriors. Crowfeather accepts, unaware that Leafpool is pregnant with his kits at the same moment.

Upon the winter time birth, the kits of Nightcloud are born weak and frail, each passing shortly after birth. Crowfeather and Nightcloud are both devastated, they watch their last kit (a small black she-cat) and wait for her to take her final breath. Then Crowfeather sees a vision of Feathertail, beckoning him to take the kit away and to follow her. He does exactly this. Feathertail leads him to the hollow tree where Leafpool is laid, birthing her own kits - their kits. As Crowfeather learns this discovery, the kit he is holding passes away and he demand to know why he had brought her here only to lose her too and be shown the kits he cannot have. It is then that Feathertail and Yellowfang point out the nearly identical black kit.

They tell Leafpool, Squirrelflight, and Crowfeather that the other two kits are gifted and will grow into greatness, but this third kit has no such powers and will grow to envy them and turn against them. So take her away to be raised in Windclan, a normal kit with a normal life. They all agree in the end and Squirrelflight requests that she is named Hollykit.

Crowfeather returns with Hollykit, alive and well, to Nightcloud. She is thrilled and grateful that Starclan saved her kit.

Hollypaw grows as a normal kit, doted on by both her parents. Unaware of the origins of her birth. When Crowfeather is invited to travel up the mountains, he wishes to bring Hollypaw with. It is here that Jaypaw, Lionpaw, and Hollypaw form a friendship and Hollypaw learns of their powers. All is well until the return from the mountain, when Hollypaw awakes in a field of flowers and meets a strange blue-eyed tom who tells her the truth: those two apprentices were her brothers and she should have been raised alongside them. Perhaps if she had, she would have had powers too.

Hollypaw grows resentful, beginning to train in the Dark Forest, but at the same time growing closer to her brothers. Often meeting in the tunnels beneath the moor. They train together in attempts to try to get Hollypaw’s powers to spark, but nothing happens and this pushes her only further into Hawkfrost’s manipulations. Perhaps being able to walk in the Dark Forest is her power? But her brothers would never listen to her, so she keeps it a secret.

After the three receive their warrior names. The fire scene occurs with Ashfur - Squirrelflight reveals the truth of Lionheart and Jayfather’s parents, Ashfur recalls the odd story surrounding Hollybreeze (a combo of Breezepelt and Hollyleaf as Breeezepelt does not exist in this AU)’s birth is now seeming a bit peculiar with this new information.

Lionheart and Jayfeather tell Hollybreeze of what had occurred with Ashfur and how he has threatened to tell all the clans at the next gathering. Hollybreeze begins to worry about the secret coming out, so she strikes out and murders Ashfur. Only for Hawkfrost to appear to her again and point out that her parents had lied to her this entire time, that the stars had turned against her, even Nightcloud was a liar - the kit she replaced wasn’t even of the clans to begin with, but the kit of a filthy loner. Hollybreeze is overcome with rage and anger, she appears before the gathering and declares the truth. Only moments later realizing the harm she had caused when she looks upon the faces of her parents - Crowfeather, Nightcloud, and Leafpool. When she looks at her brothers, as she sees is the hurt of her betrayal.

She flees into the tunnels and is never seen from again.

Part 2

Hollybreeze has lived in the tunnels for ages now with Fallen Leaves. She has grown accustomed to the darkness and still often visits the Dark Forest. Wandering it, believing that this is her power and that someday it will come in handy. Fallen Leaves tries to keep her away from the Dark Forest, fearing the shadowy cats, but she refuses to listen to him.

Then one day, Hawkfrost brings a new apprentice to the forest: Ivypaw. Hollybreeze is made Ivypaw’s secondary mentor (With Hawkfrost as the main influence). The two grow close, closer after Hollybreeze learns that Ivypaw’s sister is the third cat from the prophecy. This fuels their anger of being abandoned by the stars, so they train together and become like sisters. At one moment, they meet briefly in the waking world when Hollybreeze aid’s in helping Ivy out of the tunnels.

Then comes the day of the great battle and Ivypool has shown that she had turned away from the Dark Forest, becoming a spy for Hollybreeze’s brothers. Hollybreeze is hurt and refuses to turn against the Dark Forest, for they had been by her side when Starclan and the rest of the clans had failed her. Ivypool is disappointed and leaves, but Hollybreeze does not tell of the truth of the plan to the Dark Forest cats.

Instead the Battle begins and Hollybreeze finds herself unable to fight for either side, torn by who she should be loyal too. It is only when she sees Hawkfrost about to kill Ivypool that she chooses who she wants to fight for - she saves Ivypool and the two fight side by side, killing Hawkfrost. They fight together thought out the entire battle, only for Hollybreeze to vanish when the fighting is done.

Part 3

Hollybreeze has remained in the tunnels, living her life between the two clans she was born from. She sometimes visits Ivypool and the two remain close after all they’ve been through. Ivypool encourages Hollybreeze to return to Windclan or to join her in Thunderclan, but she just can’t face the clans after everything she had done and seen.

Then one day, when Ivypool goes to visit her, she notes that the tunnels smell strange. Stoats begin to swarm out of the tunnel mouth, causing Ivypool to flee. In fear she tells Dovewing of Hollybreeze. Leafpool, Jayfeather, Lionheart, all hear of this news and worry about the safety of Hollybreeze. They all go out to search for her, only to be spotted by a Windclan patrol who ask what’s up. When told, Crowfeather and Nightcloud both join the search party, Nightcloud grows the most desperate of the them all, daring to take the plunge and enter the tunnels.

The patrol follows her, but are split up in the fight and each must flee. Only Nightcloud doesn’t make it out. The group continues to try to search for any signs of the two black she-cats, but with no luck. Eventually, Ivypool discovers that Hollybreeze had fled to the abandoned two-leg place after the stoats had taken over. She tells Hollybreeze of the party of cats, of her family, who were all searching for her worried and how Nightcloud is now missing. Hollybreeze still sees Nightcloud as her mother and joins the patrol. The rest of the cats are hesitant to enter the tunnels again, but Hollybreeze refuses to leave Nightcloud down there.

So she takes the plunge and fights against the stoats, making her way down into her old home. Discovering where Nightcloud has been stashed away by the stoats. Still alive. Hollybreeze saves her and the two fight their way out of the tunnels, joined by the rest of the patrol and greeted at the end by Jayfeather and Leafpool who are eager to treat their wounds. The family is reunited. Hollybreeze returns to Windclan and makes amends with her family.

After this, Hollybreeze struggles to settle back in clan life, but this time her family is there to help her. Encouraging her on and making sure she knows she isn’t alone. She grows close to her parents again and settles into clan life once more, Heathertail and her (who were close as apprentices) are now low-key mates. Eventually this leads to Hollybreeze being declared the deputy by Harestar (who, like her, trained in the Dark Forest and knows just how strong Hollybreeze can be.)

Part 4

The time has come for the cats to face Ashfur in the Dark Forest. The chaos he had wrought upon the clans has gone on for long enough. Each clan choose a cat to enter the Dark Forest, and Hollybreeze is one of them. She tells Ivypool that she will do everything in her strength to protect her daughter, Bristlefrost. Ivypool doesn’t wish for Hollybreeze to leave, no one does, but she enters the Dark Forest and is a great aid, for she knows the forest well having trained in it since being an apprentice.

The fight with Ashfur begins, she sees Bristlefrost racing to save Shadowsight from Ashfur’s grasps. They begin to go over, into the dark waters and Hollybreeze cannot let this happen. She cannot allow Ivypool to lose her daughter, she promised to protect her! Hollybreeze snatches Bristlefrost away, throwing her back to land and taking her place. Fighting Ashfur again. She makes a comment about not having killed him good enough the first time, gotta try again. The two drown together in the darkness.

Hollybreeze dreams not of a world that doesn’t exist, but of the world she ended up gaining in the end. Of her mate, of her family, of her parents (Leafpool, Crowfeather, and Nightcloud are now in a poly relationship), of her aunt and her uncle, of her brother and of Ivypool who was like a daughter to her and of Bristlefrost, who can now live and be free to love. She dreams that she was part of a prophecy, one that no one was aware of, of a kit born into the darkness of secrecy in order to truly defeat it.

#errornoises #warrior cats rewrite #wc au #warrior cat au #Hollyleaf #Hollyleaf AU #oops I did it again I wrote another AU #tbh Hollyleaf should have been the one to kill Ashfur in the Dark Forest #Because I love the idea of her killing him yet again by a body of water #Possible option is that Holly becomes leader of Windclan before the final battle with Ashfur #and when she sinks into the murky water she appears again when it drains because she had back up lives

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eddiesxangel · 9 days

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Could i request eddie eating out the reader where shes on top and he loves absolutely smothering himself in her pussy, he loves it messy and hes gripping/massaging her ass so she cant move away, shes trembling and folded over, gripping the sheets and he loves that shes desperately rubbing her cunt on his face

I always think about early stages of a relationship with eddie when all of their friends are like "have you done it yet? Whats he like?" reader and eddie are flustered by the memories and the sound complaints because theyre addicted to each other

I kinda love the idea of eddie gloating to the boys about his sex life, not necessarily sharing private details but always praising reader and her body/skills n theyre all jealous 🤭

“Excuse me but what is that?!” Nancy points to your neck.

You thought that the dim lights of the bar and your high neck shirt would do the trick to cover the enormous hickey Eddie had left but alas, you were mistaken.

“Straightening iron burn” your hand shoots up to cover the evidence.

“You don’t own a straightener…” Robin squinted her eyes at you in question.

You look around nervously before you cave. You couldn’t lie to your friends, you were about embarrassed but also needed to tell them everything….

*********

“Dude what the fuck was up with you and y/n last night.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie shoves his face with the burger he ordered.

“I couldn’t fucking sleep because it sounded like you were eating her alive.” Gareth rolls his eyes.

“Sure was” Eddie smirks smugly.

“Not what I meant dude.” Gareth cringed.

“You’re just jealous because I’m having the best sex of my life. ” Eddie’s chuckles.

“The best sex of your life, huh?” Jeff pipes up.

“You have no idea man, I can’t keep my hands off her, her pussy has like magical powers or something.” He leans back in his chair remmebering last night….

*********

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!!” You chant, forgetting about keeping quiet for the sake of Eddie’s roommate.

You’re pussy was hovering over your boyfriends face as he insisted you sit on him. His fingers gripped into your plush hips as he pulls you down so your weight was resting on his face.

The way his tongue was flicking your clit was sinful. He was consuming you. Your pussy juices were covering his whole chin and upper lip. Your sent was consuming his nostrils while your taste was consuming his mouth. Eddie was addicted to you. You’re like a drug, the more he has the more he wants.

“Come on baby, I wanna taste you cuming on my tongue.” He speaks into your pussy and it sends a shockwave of pleasure through you.

“God s’good” you slur, unable to think about anything else.

What sends you over the ends is the sharp smack to your ass Eddie gives your before palming it with his large hand.

Your body quivers with ecstasy and Eddie continues the assault on your clit. He be damned if we were to stop now. It’s so much but you can’t help but grind your hips in his face. Your pussy catches his nose and chin and it only feels that much more erotic.

He wanted more, he was so greedy for you, all of you. He wanted to make you feel good, your pleasure was more important than his. He was obsessed, consumed, and in love.

“Come on baby, give me one more”

“Baby-no, I want you inside me, fuck me please!”

“Please baby one more your pussy tastes so good.”

“Oh-okay” you stuttered.

With your permission Eddie is lapping at you even faster than before, your sensitive clit was throbbing; you wanted to cum so badly once again.

“Can’t hold it!” You cry. Your hands landing infront of you on the headboard. Your gripping on for dear life as Eddie’s fingers slip up side your cunt, pumping in and out as he sits your most sensitive spot.

“Come.” Eddie demands and you can’t help but obey.

Again he laps up everything you give before gently lifting you up off his face and he inhales a deep breath.

“I could have killed you!”

“What a way to go darlin’ ” he smiles and you can’t help but roll your eyes and you also can’t help but want to kiss him.

He’s everything you want and you want him now. So you spread your legs wide, enticing and inviting him in. You want him so bad you can’t stand the separation you’re going through now.

“Eddie please, fuck me.” You don’t even recognize your needy voice but as Eddie watches your hands roam your body, kneading your breasts and your fingers running along your pussy folds he can’t stand it either.

“Please I want you so bad, I need you baby, I need you”

“Shhhh, I’m here baby, going to fuck you so good with this cock.”

“Please, that’s all I want!”

“I got you baby, you ready for me?”

“More than ready” you pant.

When Eddie finally slips it in your head spins. Nothing will ever compare to the way he fills you. Maybe it’s because it’s new, maybe it’s because you’re both so in love, or maybe it’s because he’s the best sex you e ever had but why didn’t matter. The way he fuck is you is animalistic, it’s messy, it’s passionate, and it’s fuelled by lust and love.

Never has Eddie ever felt this way when it came to sex before. No other person made him so feral he does everything in his power to please you.

“Your fucking pussy is so pretty when she takes my cock. You should see for yourself darlin’ sucking me in so good.”

You loved when Eddie talked dirty to you, it’s only made it that much more enjoyable.

You grab Eddie by the back of the neck pulling him down towards your mouth so you could kiss him. You loved kissing while fucking, especially when it was sloppy. His taste mixed with yours was your favourite flavour in the world.

As Eddie hips slapped into yours you start to lose it. The incoherent begging and mumbling, your brain feeling goofy from the pleasure he brought you, Eddie was your everything.

“I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet baby, not yet.”

“Please, I want it so bad please!”

“Almost there, come on. Hold it for me.”

“Eddie!”

His cock brushed that ultra sensitive spot within you each time his cock pounded into you and you tired to hard to obey but your body betrays you. The way Eddie fucks you is too much, too strong for you to take.

“Imcumingimcuminimcuming!” You babble.

“Fuuuuuuck” Eddie can feel your pussy seizing down tightly on his throbbing cock.

*********

“So how did you get that?” Nancy wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“What do you mean how? Eddie follows her around like a lost puppy. He looks at her like she hung the moon and the stars.”

“Oh he dose not” you blush. But she was right he dose.

“Well he dose” she rolls her eyes.

“Okay I know what but like? Is he any good?” Nancy wrinkles her nose.

“Oh my god best I’ve ever had! I think he enjoys going down on me than I do.” You giggle. “He wouldn’t stop until I came twice then he ducked me so good I think I blacked out!”

“Gross” Robin chuckles.

“You asked!”

“No, Nancy did.” She laughs. “Who would have thought that Munson had that in him,”

“That and more” you sit back in your chair dreaming about going back to Eddie’s tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson imagine #request #Eddie Munson blurb #tj’s mailbox

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)

A day after you and Konig's wedding. Who knew that evil emperors could be so romantic. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 3256 AO3

— Lift your hips up, princess. You don’t want to waste my seed.

You whimper, trying to get your legs down, so he can’t force you to spread them anymore – but you feel the hot seed getting back in the swell of your well-used maidenhood, and it makes you whimper only more. What a woeful sight indeed – a fake princess crying over having to take the seed of the strongest person in the whole continent. You know a thousand of women who would beg for an opportunity to have the Emperor’s hands on their hips, guiding them down to admire the look. You know that the real princess – your princess – would never agree to this ordeal, no matter the begging and the bribery. So, you don’t agree too. — In m…my culture, a bride should wait at least a month after the marriage before the…conception, Your Majesty.

You lie through gritted teeth like it could change anything. Like it could magically force all the seed from your womb to the ground again, to the silk of the sheets under you. Like the mere tradition that you gave birth to the idea of a minute ago would stop you from being König’s breeding mare. Still, you refuse to lift your hips, a small resistance that puts a small chuckle to his lips. He is amused by you – or your stupidity. Princesses are supposed to be spoiled and bratty, right? Yours certainly was.

— Does your culture also make the bride lie to her husband?

You lick your lips, forcing them closed. No another quick witty word from you – your lies already got you on the edge of…something. After König announced he knew who you were this entire time, he got you on your back, on your belly, with your hips up and down, your head silly from lack of air as he choked you until you begged for your life – only for him to kiss you over and over. Feeding your womb with his seed until there was a bump, not giving any chance that the baby wasn’t there yet. If anything, he conquered your body the same way he did your country – and left your bruised hips as a reminder. The handprinted bruises covering your skin like the finest fabrics of the gown he got you.

— If you wish to order me dead, your majesty.

— Death doesn’t mean anything here, meine Liebe.

— Then banish me. For the lies and the betrayal of a royal…

He laughs – it’s a nice sound, still, something in your deprived mind likes the way you make him laugh and chuckle. Something in your head makes you feel as dizzy as you did when he cut off the air in your throat, every time that cold eyes of his look at you with warmth. heated obsession, whatever that is – you refuse to believe it was genuine, as you were borrowing your princess’s identity, but now, when he laughed and spoke about his true intentions, you weren’t sure if a pathetic and lowly lady-in-waiting is as safe in you as you thought.

— If being as stupid as you are is a punishable crime, then I’d finalyl have a good reason to kill off most of my harem. He laughs again, a hand in your hair – getting out all of the fancy pins and bows and dead flowers that were forced to be held in your crown and on your head. You groan in pleasure as the pins scraping your scalp are finally removed – and try to get back at his hand immediately when he comes to squeeze your breasts again. Not for any reason – simply because you happened to have the aspects of your body that he could touch.

— Would be much safer to get a woman from a harem, sir. Not…not me.

— And if I wanted just you?

König looks at you – trembling, loved out completely. Covered in his marks, as many bites as a princess could take. Even being a servant, you’re almost as gentle and reserved as a real deal – but gods, if you weren’t the cutest thing he ever saw in that damned ugly country of yours. Hating nobility as much as he hated speaking to his troops not as their commander, König never particularly enjoyed the idea of having to marry some bitchy royal daughter…you, however, were the loophole in the god’s contract. A gift, just for him.

— Your council would make me disappear for deceiving you in the first place.

— No one would dare to leave the empire without heirs.

— You could have another one. There are plenty of princesses out there, Your Highness.

— And I don’t have enough patience to entertain you trying to sell me the idea of your freedom. Do you know what relief I felt when you were the one to meet me?

You don’t answer, instead prompting to just listen. You have good ears for listening – for allowing others to talk, so you wouldn’t be made to fill in awkward silences. König loves that and appreciates that. Finally, someone who can just be silent – even if he also has nothing to say, at least you’re scared and angry enough to dismiss him anyway. At least your unwillingness is making him less awkward at participating in the conversation.

— You knew who I was all along?

— Princesses are pampered. Even the poorest kingdom would never have a princess with hands as hard-working as yours, Schatz.

He takes his hands in yours – no matter the healing creams you rubbed in them, no matter the lack of actual physical labor, even the smallest tasks you performed for the princess, the tiniest exposure to cleaning supplies that would make the toughest skin crack, left a small traces in the skin of your palm. Fingers with clean nails – short, practical, indicating the need to have your hands in working order all of the time. Indicating your lack of a servant who would do everything – opening buttons on clothes, embroidery, and washing oneself’s body. indicating that you were said servant.

You look embarrassed that he pointed that out. Scared, almost.

— Are my hands too ugly for you, sir?

He can see the tremble in your fingers. He traces them with his – large, calloused hands keeping you in place. Rough skin and multiple ridges of scars over the darkened skin made you shiver from the contrast of the sensation – those are the hands of a ruler who isn’t afraid of taking a sword in his hands. Who almost got his arms chopped off for this altogether.

Then – he kisses them.

One finger at a time, every ridge and bump in your skin deserves a graze of emperor’s teeth as he tugs on rough skin around your knuckles. Your hands are soft, softer than a normal maid would have – but changed from the work you had to put. Every kiss and lick doesn’t make them gentle, doesn’t remove the experience you had – in braiding hair, in washing clothes, in cleaning up after a royal mess. It doesn’t change who you were, but with every little praise he whispers – crude language, really, but the affection in his words scares you more than any foreign insult could – with every toss of his lips over your palms, he is changing who you are. Who will you become in just a week or two.

He calls your hands beautiful – in North tongue, with a smile on his face. König loves to explore, and your body is a beautiful place for him to be. Your hands are the best place he could have been in the morning.

Some historians are already saying he has done more to this country than any other ruler ever could. But oh, the emperor knows that the most important thing he did here was kiss your fingers. Over and over.

You snap your arms back when he finally breaks down, starting to bite – the softer skin of your palms falling victim to his sharp teeth. Emperors aren’t supposed to have sharp teeth but for all he knows, he was born from a dog and raised by one. A wolf in wolf’s clothing.

— Your hands belong to an empress.

— Thought I was a regent.

— You are, mein Schatz. Can’t trust you with a country, ja?

You laugh, but there are tears in your eyes. Loss of whatever authority you could have as the princess's personal maid – her friend if he knew anything about royals and their habits. Scheisse, he was the emperor for 10 long years and still didn’t get a hang of it. Might be something he had to be born with – such a shame, really. Should have told his mother to never give birth to a rat that would usurp the throne once out of the crib.

He loves to see you weak, trembling like this – like a proper bride should. Like a real princess, the one whose manners should be enough to fool the people and the dumbest of his court. The smartest ones could always agree to put their tongues up their behinds – if they don’t want to get their heads chopped off by his blade, without even bothering an executioner to do it.

— But you can trust me with your children?

— This empire needs an heir. As much as I can rule forever.

— No one is immortal.

— Ach. Did Sebastian forget to visit you before the wedding, little princess?

He is mocking you, again and again – he laughs with death and you hate it, you hate yourself, you loathe him and his laughs and his crooked smile and the scars covering his skin and…he kisses your hands again, then – dips your hands up in that mask of his. Lets you feel the skin, involuntarily trace your fingertips all over everything hidden – you touch his teeth, his fangs, and you gasp in shock. So, the monster has lips. So, the monster has thin lips and wet mouth, and he dips his tongue all over the traces of knuckles and…

König knows you’d never agree to be his in a way that he wants you too – but this is fine. He can work you around. He can break you. He can please you. What a wonderful job would this be.

— Your court would soon find out I’m not the one.

— They know how to keep their mouths shut. You would, however, have to deal with my harem personally.

— Did you intended to add my princess to your harem too?

— If I knew that you wouldn’t take her place? Of course. I never visited the place for the exact reason I didn’t bother to find your patron.

— Are you really satisfied with the scraps?

Oh, his poor, dumb girl – he was feeding off scraps since he was ripped away from his mom’s tit. You were the only fancy meal he ever liked in his life – and gods, if he wouldn’t give up anything to taste you again.

On the other side, however, he can do just that.

König dips his head down, the traces of his hood laying on your labia. You whimper.

— I never ate anything as exquisite as you, little princess.

— I’m n…why do you keep calling me this?

— You will be my princess. Forever trapped on my lap, on the floor, chained to my throne like a…

With each word, his tongue laps on the glossiness of your lower lips. He gives your maiden a little kiss all over, he digs down like it’s a fancy meal indeed – the scrawny hairs of his stubble make you whimper every time they graze your clit. König has a fleeting thought of eating his cum out of your poor, sore body – that it wouldn’t be wise, that it would make the process of impregnating you slower. Then, he thinks – he can just fill you up with his seed later. And in the evening. And tomorrow.

He pushes his tongue down, deep – you gasp, you get your hands on his hood, not trying to tear it apart, but laying there like a scared maiden. You were one – you are one, after all. Gods, he could just keep you here forever if it weren’t for the country needing its empress.

König kisses you all over – you’re still smelling like rose water, like fragrances that were forcefully rubbed on your skin right before the wedding. A proper lady, you were bathed in salts and oils like a kitchen in poor man’s soup – but weren’t you looking beautiful in that dress of yours. Too bad he had to rip it eventually, stepping on it accidentally quite a few times as he was getting you water. Your little trick with the herb did make you thirsty in all possible ways.

You don’t know a lot about royal weddings, but you’re pretty sure that the emperor shouldn’t be sprawled on his giant bed like this, eating you out like you were the roasted lamb served at yesterday’s feast. You moan when the material of his mask is getting tricky with your gentle parts when the rough fabric is scrapping your thighs in a way that is far from arousal – and then he leans in, a head laying on your tummy. Your princess parts are swollen from his actions – and lack thereof. You almost think you could buck your hips up like a… König takes off his hood.

— Wh…what are y… You don’t master enough words before he is forcing his face against yours before his lips finally lay down on yours properly – and gods isn’t this a beautiful sight. The emperor, the vile conqueror, your biggest enemy, and your husband – smiling like a boy when he got free candy, like a cat who got the cream – like a man so in love, it makes him unable to stop smiling while looking at his wife.

He isn’t pretty in the sense that some of the rulers can be pretty – he isn’t hideous either. A rough face doesn’t look like something that belongs to a royal family – big nose, small lips, chiseled chin and not a sight of inbreeding. You try to see if his ears are wrong, at least, but they are fine – not caring about a bit of chopped-off bits, probably from old battles. He is rugged and handsome and rough and you hate that red stubble on his chin and his gorgeous ginger hair – if you were forced to see this face every day, you might give up and like him. It’s a good thing he wears the mask most of the time, isn’t it?

— You don’t like how your emperor looks, little princess? He laughs again, then – cups your face in his hands and kisses you all over. Again and again, his lips fell on yours making you feel dumb, making you feel dizzy and just a bit charmed – like the potion you drank yesterday hadn’t fully worn off. You can taste your own pleasure on his lips and it makes you embarrassed – a proper lady should never enjoy a process as dirty as making love – your lower parts should only exist for him to take pleasure in ruining it, and for you – to birth little princes.

But König bows down before your lower lips, but König presses his tongue against your special spot again and again, and it makes you wonder if he recites the anthem of the empire on the little swollen bud between your legs – for his actions are filled with devotion that should only be reserved for one’s country, not for just a poor, dumb handmaiden whose only job was to lie and to protect. But…is it really all you want to do now? Just lay here and let him take him, without a chance of enjoying him playing with you if only for just a bit longer? — I…I believe you look fine, Your Majesty.

— Just fine?

He smiles and kisses you down there again – the aftermath of your pleasure makes his lips feel too hard on your swollen parts, the climax had taken everything from you left only feelings, as naked and trembling as you are right now – and, by god, if you aren’t feeling like sold and set in pieces. You are selling your dignity right now, the loyalty to your kingdom is getting grazed by each new stroke of his tongue. You close your eyes and moan – for you can’t hold off your pleasure anymore. For you don’t see a reason in trying to pretend you don’t enjoy being treated like a princess after a life of servitude.

— You are fine for an emperor, my…my husband. You struggle to say it – but you do have to say it eventually, at least in front of the servants. If he isn’t intent on keeping you locked away in a tower, pumping out babies like his little servant – maybe he wouldn’t want to keep you open for the world to take. You were a secluded princess kept in shadows before he discovered you, after all. You served the one, at least.

— Trying to cover the harsh words with honey, ja? I killed for less, mein Schatz.

— I assume you won’t kill me before the first son, at least?

— Wouldn’t kill you even if you’d be barren. I’d rather leave the empire to rot without an heir than choose someone else in your place.

— That is awful news for your empire.

— Our empire can rot without you, Meine Liebe. Never wanted the damned crown in the first place.

— But you’re fine with putting it on the head of a commoner?

— I was a commoner once. Know better than anyone else that a princess would never make a good wife.

You never studied his rise to power – the latest politics were hidden from you and the princess, the king never wanted to taint his daughter with such silly things as rising stars of the political arena – and he failed to mention the empire that was once rotting from its head getting a ruler who would take half of the continent and a daughter of every kingdom in his harem as the spoils of war.

He lays down beside you, taking you in his arms again. his hair flows all around you – he smells like blood, still, even after so many hours spent bathing in your shared musk. You wonder if everything he had done with the forbidden rituals made him like this – face torn and stitched back together again, harsh scars that can only be made from a blade or claws of a giant animal – and he pushes you down to press your face against his chest, taking in the feeling of laying beside your husband.

— Don’t you have something that needs to be done, Your Highness?

— The most important thing I need to do is lay between your legs, little princess. And you’re too swollen to be doing that.

You press your forehead against his chest. Taking it him and the light tan of his skin – you wonder where he could get it, if he almost never took off his armor. His face is as pale as it can be, and it makes him look a little silly when naked – but you refuse to smile and make him angry. — I thought you wanted me to meet your harem.

— They can wait. We need to give them time to prepare the poison for you, right?

He laughs and you don’t find anything better to do than to press your head against his chest and close your eyes. The royal visits really can wait until tomorrow.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere imagines

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futureplayboibunnie · 10 months

Text

Aphrodesiacs PT. 5

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?

bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

It was months since you saw Miguel.

Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.

Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.

You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.

You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.

You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.

You didn’t learn your lesson.

You wanted to see him.

You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.

But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.

How could you contact him?

No, you definitely shouldn’t.

You’d just cause more problems relating to this.

But you needed answers.

Fuck.

An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.

“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.

“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.

“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”

“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.

“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.

“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.

“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.

You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.

Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.

It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-

His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.

Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.

Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.

You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”

His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.

Of fucking course.

“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.

Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”

You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.

“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.

Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.

You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.

“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.

Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.

“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.

“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’

“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.

“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.

“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.

“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.

“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.

“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.

“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.

“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.

“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.

“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”

“I wonder how we’ll manage.”

“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”

yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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hhnguyen · 1 year

Text

life of a traitor

I’m really sorry if this one seemed a bit messy, because I was trying to convey the feelings from multiple POV’s at the same time instead of just one. ps. i will drown in the Lo’ak x Tsireya ship. My OTP for life.

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest daughter!Reader, Lo’ak x Tsireya, Dad!Jake Sully x Lo’ak

♢ Word count: 4k

♢ Genre: angst, family comfort - Warnings: cursing, Jake being a bad dad for once but we still love him

⌲ Description: “You have shamed this family.” Words hurt and they sting. Yet you make sure your dad gets to feel that very pain in the wake of Lo’ak’s return.

M A S T E R L I S T

“The Sully boy has been found!”

“The oldest is with him! They’re both back!”

You were holding your breath, you realized, as the village got closer. The lit-up lanterns that seemed like mere specks of stars in the night from a distance not long ago now seemingly looming over you with intimidation for what was to come. Both of you were perched on the backs of the Metkayina warrior's mounts that had spotted the two swimming back into the reefs after sending the tulkun off.

And with Atanzaw flying above your heads, shining in the dark with his bioluminescent marks, it was an easy spotting as an uproar had started.

Your brother reached the dock first, thanking the one who helped as you followed up shortly after doing the same.

As if as one, both yours and Lo’ak’s gaze locked onto Ao’nung standing at the very front beside his parents. He was silent, though you didn’t know if that was due to the aftermath of his scolding or guilt for nearly killing your brother.

For his sake, it better had been the latter.

You merely stood back as Lo’ak was ready to pounce on the boy himself until your dad quickly intervened with raised hands of peace, and you could not stop the disappointed roll of your eyes.

“Hey…” Jake was trying to make eye contact with him, but sensing how his youngest son was too busy death glaring at the Olo’eyktan’s heir it was a futile try. “Let’s have a look at you.”

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Just a few scratches,” your dad declared, obviously nervous and trying to appear calm.

“Define fine,” you muttered, not bothering to be too discreet and catching both the eyes of Tonowari and Jake.

Your mother was next, as she threw herself down on the lower ledge and grabbed Lo’ak by his shoulders, nails probably digging in uncomfortably for a short moment. There was clear distress for her child on her face, but also the aggravation of him getting into trouble again. A very familiar combination when it came to your baby brother, admittedly.

You still made sure to be closer to him as you stepped up, shoulders just barely brushing your dad’s arm in passing and hovering a mere few inches behind. A silent shield to be used if needed.

“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” She growled with a frustrated grab at his face - Lo’ak did nothing but lean away, face stone cold in all the chaos.

His indifference was worrying you as you reached out to subtly hook your little pinky around his own. An action that only the two of you and Kiri could do with your extra fingers. His body didn’t reveal anything besides the slight twitch at the touch, but he didn’t pull away, and you took it as a good sign.

For now.

“No. My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef,” Tonowari pushed Ao’nung down to his knees by the back of his neck, a sight that gave you immense satisfaction as your lips curled up into a small smirk. “The blame is his.”

Your father was trying his best to de-escalate the situation, you knew that. And although you had a lot to say, things were going smoothly at this point, so they were held back.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jake accepted it, urging Lo’ak to get a move on and you started to follow until the next words made you freeze in shock.

“No. This is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea.”

What the fuck was he doing?

Stupid, stupid boy!

Your heart was starting to pump, the disbelief at that flat-out lie from Lo’ak not making it any better. And you made sure to voice it.

“Lo’ak!” Your hiss was hardly low in volume, or gentle in its approach. It was a harsh, aggressive sound that made several people look as you grabbed your youngest brother’s arm and pulled him to you. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

You were pretty sure your nails were digging into his skin much more painfully than your mom’s did.

But as the idiot that he was, he wrenched away from you and continued on as if you hadn’t spoken. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really.”

Lie, lie, lies!

The word thundered in your head as you pinched your eyes shut with a rigid sigh. Your parents had so clearly lost their patience as your dad went up first, your mom grabbing Lo’ak either in anger or confusion. “Lo’ak!”

You weren’t sure of anything, to be honest.

“I’m sorry,” he finally finished.

“Come on,” Jake’s voice was sternly laced with exhaustion as you both followed him. “I got this one.”

How many times hadn’t you heard that sentence?

There was a tense moment of silence as your family walked away, but Tuk was absent you noticed. Which was a good thing in itself, supposedly. She didn’t need to see this ugly side of your family so young - there were certain moments for learning, whereas others would just create minimal trauma. Just like now.

“Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids, that was what I was trying to do-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You cautiously straightened up at the apparent held-back anger and glanced at your mom, hoping she might help to diffuse the situation. But her glare was still firmly settled on Lo’ak, as you licked your lips anxiously.

This situation was not reached its peak yet, the comprehension of the current mood washing over you.

“Dad…”

“You brought shame to this family.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs and stones beings violently shoved in their stead, eyes widening at the horrible words your dad…no, Jake Sully just blatantly said to your brother.

Because this was not the dad that you knew.

How could he?

Saying such words when Lo’ak was already struggling with himself.

Couldn’t they see that?

It was so clear, your confusion nearly befuddled you enough, but not quite.

Because your anger was there. Simmering, boiling - ready to erupt at any moment - because this wasn’t fair.

Your baby brother was being so strong.

Oh, how his expression squeezed your heart almost painfully. The way his shoulders just only drooped before straightening back up and fists clenching as his cold mask slipped back over the hurt that had been there only for a single second.

“Can I go now?”

Don’t go. Please, don’t go.

“Any more trouble I’ll tie a knot in your tail, you read me?”

Stop.

“Yes sir.”

Just fucking stop.

With a flick of his eyes, your dad dismissed Lo’ak like he was one of his soldiers, and as you tried to reach out for him, your baby brother ignored you with a visible lean away.

An action that hurt you more than you realized until now.

“Where were you?” Your mom spoke for the first time, turning to Neteyam.

Someone that had nothing to do with this whole fiasco.

“Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?”

You spoke before he could. “Where were you?”

Both of your parents turned to look, identical frowns on their faces as they stared you down at your tone. But you would not budge at their intimidation.

“Excuse me?”

“How could you?”

“Y/N this is not the time for one of your tirades again.”

The disbelieving laugh that you let out was so out of character that even Kiri’s eyes widened warily.

Your sister was someone who often silently observed those around you. And she knew that at this point there was no going back. You were clearly losing it.

“Y/N…” Your mom noticed the same, sensing the seams of your sensibility started to fray at the edges as you and Jake were locked in a stare-down.

You grinned widely, all teeth on show as your arms spread to the side. “You know what? Thank you for suggesting that dad! I would love to actually!”

Tirades were your favorite part time after all.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a finger hovering in the air as Jake hissed in a breath before muttering out harshly - his eyes flickering to the curious audience gathering at your volume. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“Why?” Your reply was all but spat out. “Are you embarrassed? Ashamed perhaps?”

“Y/N, you do not speak to your father like that!” Your mom’s voice snapped up, gaze hard with a hint of surprise which you assumed was due to your attitude.

Admittedly a side that you had never shown before. Or at least managed to hold back in tense moments.

“Why the hell not?!” your words were met by the gasps of Kiri and Neteyam at the audacity, but they were easily ignored as you whirled to look at your father.

He had his lips peeled back in a mid-snarl, his animalistic side coming out to warn you of the hierarchy in this family.

“You always speak to us like that! Whenever your emotions are too much to handle and you lash out at us. You say it’s our fault all disguised under your excuse of being a worried parent!”

“Lo’ak is fourteen, dad!” Making sure you had his attention you stepped closer. “Four-teen. He’s fourteen and already thinks he’s a fucking failure - and do you wanna know why that is?” there was no pause in your words as you threw them at his face. “Because of you.”

“You do not get to talk to me this way, Y/N,” Jake was clenching his jaw to the point he was sure his teeth would shatter. “I am your father-”

“-what father tells their child they’re ashamed of them?” You offered him a bitter smile. “The one I know sure as hell doesn’t.”

“Your brother made his choice. These are the consequences that follow-” your dad was having a hard time holding back with the way his voice raised mid-sentence before forcefully stopping himself and releasing a breath. “-that follow along with his actions. I am trying to teach him a lesson.”

“Did you ask him?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Ask. Him?”

Jake sighed in frustration, his hands coming up to grasp at empty air. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you even bother to ask your son whose fault this really was?” you weren’t interested in hearing his answer. “Do you even know your son? Because I do, and do you wanna know why again? Because I damn well pay attention!”

The laugh coming out of your dad made chills appear on your skin, but you were already far too deep in to turn back. Things were already fucked up, then why not cross the line a little more.

“Okay then, you little smartass. Are you telling me I don’t care about my own kid?”

He thought he had you there.

“Caring and knowing are two very different things.” This time you were the one who had him. Shutting down his own retort.

“You say you love us. You say you care for us. But also that we worry you, and that we disappoint you. Fine - that’s fine dad. But you don’t get to say that we have shamed you.”

For once during this entire duration, you hesitated.

Your next words were waiting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and loaded - something you didn’t want to say, but a part of you needed to let them out. To let your dad, or even Jake Sully, the former marine soldier hear them to his face from someone close to him.

To feel the same stabbing pain that Lo’ak most certainly did earlier.

Your aggressive protectiveness came victorious.

So you let them loose.

“You don’t get to say that; because we’re not the ones who betrayed an entire race to be where we are.”

Jake stumbled back in shock as if those very words had shot him right in the chest and he couldn’t stop them. Stop the truth that they were covered in.

It was like a pin dropped in the heavy silence that followed between the loose circle your family stood in. Your mother for the first time in her life since giving birth to you hissed in protectiveness over her mate - at her own daughter - your brother sprung to your side and twisted you away with a snarl of your name, in warning, not scolding. Whereas Kiri remained still, eerie gaze never leaving you.

However, you weren’t done.

“Hurts doesn’t it?” your voice croaked as Jake’s eyes slowly raised to meet yours. “Words.”

You left without saying anything else.

Warm. Gentle. Comforting and so loving.

Tsireya’s hold on his hands was always a welcoming feeling.

Her touch seemed to ground him more than he sometimes realized. A feeling that was unfamiliar to him mostly, and one that always reminded him of you.

But right now, with the two of them sitting on a boulder on the edge of a patchy space of grass and gazing out into the star covered night together, it was a touch that calmed the stabbing hurt from earlier and made the night all more bearable.

Lo’ak had no idea how many hours that passed since the chaos that had ensued after returning with you. His hearing basically stopped working after his dad’s true feelings had slapped him in the face with their words - that stung more than an actual slap would have.

He would have rather taken that slap.

“Are you okay?” Tsireya’s voice was soft and light, so sweet in its tone that he couldn’t even stop the small smile on his face after the tumultuous day.

“I will be,” he admitted honestly. He would always be somewhat okay after a few days, that was the truth.

The real question was if he would ever heal from it. That one he wasn’t so sure about.

Lo’ak might not have been mistreated or even abused by his family. A minimum that was expected for a happy life. Because in a certain perspective, he was fortunate in the life that he did have.

Two caring, protective parents.

Four loving siblings.

A grandmother for Tsahik.

And a home. Kind off.

Then why didn’t he feel fortunate?

“You can always rely on me, you know that right?”

Eywa. How beautiful her large eyes looked staring up at him from her place, where her head was previously leaned on his shoulder.

They were sparkling, he swore. The aquamarine color of them stood out even more in the darkness surrounding them. The bioluminescent lights of nature surrounding them made her all the more ethereal in his gaze.

So large and so loving and caring in the way they always looked at him.

And not for the first time, Lo’ak found his own gaze wavering - flickering down lower on her face and to her lips, which were adorably pulled down in a slightly concerned pout for him.

They might be young, just fourteen-year-old kids still growing. But he wasn’t stupid or ignorant at his age. He was well versed in romantic feelings and commitment to your partners, and how to cherish each other if the right one ever did appear.

And his dad made good on his promise to teach them all about teenage hormones and urges, and how to control them in a respectful manner. To know when it was too early to start exploring what he wanted or not.

Lo’ak wanted to kiss her. He knew that. It wasn’t a secret.

But it was too early. And in the aftermath of his falling out with his parents, it seemed too…raw.

He didn’t want to use someone he was growing to care more for each day as a way of making himself feel better.

And Tsireya deserved better, being the kindhearted person she was. And he wasn’t quite there to give it to her yet.

But one day, he hoped he would be.

“Thank you,” was all he managed to say in reply offering a small tug of his lips as she stared at him for a moment longer before turning away, the clear tell of redness on the tip of her ears as she realized their proximity for the first time.

He didn’t see a reason to tease her about it, not wanting to break the serenity that they were currently in. It was somewhat possible to block everything that happened.

He did say somewhat.

The rustling of bushes becoming louder made both of them straighten up and turn back, only to see Jake coming closer in a slow yet determined stride.

Lo’ak felt his heart starting to beat faster, a sudden change from the steady calm it had managed to find in the last couple of hours.

The reality was catching up to him again at the appearance of his father.

Tsireya turned to look at him with her concerned wide eyes again, he didn’t manage to answer her before his dad had reached them - but Lo’ak didn’t expect to notice the nervous fiddle of his hands as Jake stopped only a few feet away.

“Hey kids-” his pause was out of character. “Do you mind if I speak to my son a bit, Tsireya?”

As if Lo’ak couldn’t fall for the girl more than he already did. Because instead of letting the presence of his father and Toruk Makto completely intimidate her, she turned to him first; Silently asking if he wanted her to leave.

Jake seemed to be surprised himself, although pleasantly so. He has been so used to everyone outside of his family doing most things at his beck and call, both as a clan leader and war hero. He had clearly underestimated the relationship between the two young teens in front of him.

Tsireya stood to leave quickly at the assuring nod of Lo’ak, before parting with a polite smile in Jake’s direction and going back to the village with one last look over her shoulder.

There was a moment of complete stillness before Jake came and sat down on the space previously occupied next to Lo’ak. The boy didn’t even bother to acknowledge his father, simply staring out at the lapping water, shoulders hunched over.

His two braids on the side of his face felt like the only shield to cover him as he let them hang, avoiding eye contact firmly.

Jake let out a heavy sigh, having already expected the cold behavior of his youngest son.

He didn’t blame him either.

He had acted like a grade-A asshole, with the biggest A to exist in the universe. And towards his own child too.

Jake Sully has never claimed parenthood to be easy in any way. It was a hard, taxing journey that he obviously was still trying to learn from. It was a road that never stopped no matter how old his kids got. He would always be a father, but he’s admittedly been a shit one as of late.

And that wasn’t only according to you.

Your words had hurt. Like a damn punch to his face. Or ten.

That was true - Neytiri knew it too. And that made him think and regret. If those words stung him as they did, how much had he hurt his own kid by saying something he didn’t even mean?

Not really at least.

Jake had been angry at the moment. Pissed off, to be honest. But it was also the overwhelming worry of his kid’s disappearance that made him act out. But it was no excuse for anything he had said.

You were still avoiding him. Well, ignoring is more like it. Which was even worse. Besides your siblings, you were actively shutting out the presence of both him and Neytiri despite their tries in the last few hours to speak.

Kiri was the one to voice out your thoughts. “She won’t speak unless Lo’ak forgives you first.”

Was it strange that Jake was still proud of you? You owned the same pride he did as a young marine and his first moments on Pandora.

An unyielding pride that often got him in trouble.

But for you, it was a pride that protected your siblings even against your own parents.

“You know, sometimes I think you deserve a better dad.”

Lo’ak didn’t reply, but the shift in his body assured Jake that he was paying attention.

“I never wanted kids. Never even thought of having them until I met your mother. The world was already shitty enough as it was, so I didn’t see a point in bringing new life into it. And after my injury, that thought cemented.”

“Well, I’m sorry for ending up being your kid,” his low mutter was an inner thought not ever planning to see the light of day. Especially in front of the man himself. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Jake let out a shuddering breath, finally realizing how deep this…trauma his youngest son was experiencing. And you had been right again; it was all his fault.

“No, no Lo’ak,” moving closer, his son didn’t resist as he gently grabbed the back of his nape to push their foreheads together.

Despite his bitter words, his body still relaxed at the comforting feeling. Because it was obvious - even after everything, he still loved his dad. Still craved the comforts of his protective touches, and his overpowering hugs that were rare but much needed whenever offered.

“I’m sorry, son,” Jake whispered, eyes clenched shut and voice wavering with tears. “I have not been the father you needed since the war started, I know that now. I will try to improve, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck up further in the coming days, but I will never not love you.”

“Dad…”

Lo’ak wanted to cry.

And in the protective embrace of his dad, he did. He let those long held tears flow loose, dripping down his cheeks and starting to obscure his vision as his breath started to heave at the force of it all.

“What I said wasn’t true. I am proud of the man you’re starting to grow into, and you have never shamed this family. I am the one who should be ashamed, never you.”

“I-I am sorry-”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jake demanded pulling his son closer. “Your sister was right. My burdens should not fall on your shoulders. You’re still young and deserve to be a child, not a soldier. So I am sorry.”

Pressing his lips against the crown on his youngest boy’s head, Jake only held him as his silent tears turned into soft sobs. All the pain and hurt that he had bottled up because of him, finally being lifted off his young shoulders that should have never been born them to begin with.

“Will you ever forgive your old man of his faults?” His dad asked after several minutes he finished crying, his deep voice hoarse with nerves.

Lo’ak had no idea how long his meltdown lasted, only letting out everything in the presence of his dad without restraint until he had no more tears left. It could have been five minutes or ten. Who knew at this point?

“You’re my dad…” he had whispered in return. “I will always forgive you.”

There was a thankful smile on Jake’s face, wrinkles crinkling in the corners of his wet eyes. “Then you’re a far better person than I have ever been. Thank you.”

He swallowed, and for the first time in a while, his next words had never been more genuine than at this moment.

“I love you, dad.”

There was a firm, warm squeeze around his body at hearing that.

“God, I love you too, kiddo. So much you don’t even know.”

Maybe he’d been mistaken after all.

Lo’ak doubted this would be the end of their turmoils because life came with them. It was just how it was; parents get angry at their kids, siblings get angry at each other and vice versa.

It was expected, but at least from now on he would be assured of his parents’ love for him, and their presence would be constant and there whenever he would need them despite their own faults as people.

Updates will unfortunately be a bit slow moving forward. My 3rd semester has started and I’ve started to prepare for my MA thesis + 4 classes, so my days are packed 🥲

taglist:

@nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029 @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs @melllinaa @sugarmummystuff6 @lovekeeho @marit332 @hai-kbai @missroro @lola2004sworld @kage-yaa

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar imagine #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter #loak x reader #loak imagine #sully family #sully family x reader #avatar angst #jake sully angst #sully kids #sully reader

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robin374 · 4 months

Note

ROBIN HIHIHIHI, THINK FAST

*throws u silly HCS ideas yet again aggressively*

SOOO I KINDA GOT ATTACHED TO OUR ASSHOLE OF AN ANGEL, ADAM SO I WAS THINKING:

Adam x Sweet angel reader

basically reader is the most sweet person u can encounter, like always complementing Adam, giving him hand made gifts and etc, and then theres Adam.

wanna know how this dynamic will go

luv ya

"ᏖᏂᏋᏒᏋ ᎩᎧᏬ ᏗᏒᏋ, ᏕᏬᎶᏗᏒ ᏖᎥᏖᏕ!"

Character: Adam x reader (Romantic)

Notes: I'M BACK, I've finally finished my exams YIPPIE

Summary: Reader is a sweetheart and Adam somehow falls in love with them.

I'm pretty sure that he's always trying to make you angry in some way. For example, he will be trying to annoy you all the time, and you will answer him with a sweet smile asking him if he's happy that day because he seems more enegertic.

We all know that he sometimes says really morally questionable things, so whenever you hear him say those things you will hit the back of his head and scold him.

At first he thought that your kind and sweet nature was a sign of weakness, because well, he's always around Lute and the Exorcist angels. However, when he saw you ruining someone's day with just a smile and two sarcastic but bold phrases, all those negative thoughts about you dissapeared. Now you have a supportive angel behind you everytime you argue with someone. And with supportive I mean that he's flipping the other angel off while saying "That's right, bitch!" or "You tell ém, sugar tits!"

Yeah, he's pretty obvious with his crush on you, and he's not ashamed. He told Lute about it, she was bit confused at first, like... She's sure that your blood is pure sugar, how could he fall in love with you? You're the total opposite. But, she was happy that Adam found someone after the events with Lillith and Eve...

He's a bit insecure of those events, I mean, he's afraid that Lucifer goes to heaven and steal you away from him. Then, he realizes that you don't even know about the exterminations. He won't tell you, and if you were at the council when Charlie tried to talk to Heaven's leaders. He will be very afraid that you turn against him, that you see him as a monster. Of course, you don't want to accpet that he's been killing souls, even if they are in Hell, they don't desever to die permanentely.

He tried to apologize telling you that those souls desever it, they were in hell for a reason, right? You told him that as long as he didn't kill any children or people who didn't really deseve it, you would let him go down to Hell. If not, you would tell Sera and even God about it and forbid him to go to Hell.

Before the extermination he wanted to talk to you in private. "I want to tell you something, sweetcheeks." You looked at him with a smile. "I... Sorry, you..." For the first time in centuries he was at a loss of words. So, he decided to kiss your lips. It was a bit aggressive at first, but when you softly put your hands in his cheeks his tensed up body loosened a bit. When you separated, you looked at golden eyes, which were looking at you softly. You caressed his cheek, you knew that Hell was going to fight back in that extermination, you knew that he was in danger. "Just don't die, please." You whispered. "I won't die, sugar. I'm Adam, the Adam, the original dick! They can't kill me." He said while hugging you. The, he put his helmet on and flew off to Hell. You gave Lute a gaze that asked her to protect him.

What you didn't expect was to see Lute without an arm. You rapidly rushed to her and started to treat her wounds. While you were stitching up her arm, she took something from a bag. It was a halo similar to Adam's. Suddenly you felt a knot in your throat, was he dead? The look that Lute gave you told you everything. "I tried... But... I'm so sorry..."

You took his halo and put it next to your heart. Tears were falling from your eyes, Lute didn't know what to do, should she comfort you? Should she walk away? Call someone? She just decided to stand behind you waiting for you to say something Now, you had mixed feeling about Hell, you were sure that souls could be redeemed and that extermination was wrong. But how could you fully believe them when they killed your lover?

#hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #sorry I made this angsty :(#adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam

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kitkatscabinet · 8 months

Text

Whumptober - 07: Drugged

John Mactavish x f! reader

A/N: For @bunnyreaper here's the whump version, sorry it took so long, hope you like it <3

Soap knows that something’s wrong the moment you call him. You drunk calling him wasn’t exactly out of the norm, in fact, it was weird if you didn’t spam him with texts and tik toks letting him know how much you loved him.

His team often sledged him jokingly for how whipped he was for you, but it was that adoration and care that let him know within seconds that you weren’t okay. There was no excited shout of his name, no blaring music that you were drunkenly singing along to and none of your friends were yelling at him for interrupting girl's night.

There’s just silence, a terribly concerning silence only accentuated by the shuffling of clothes and shuddering breaths. He’s on his feet and crashing into the wall on his quest for the keys in three seconds flat. His shoes aren’t even on properly and he’s already in the car when he finally gets a response to his barrage of questions.

“Johnny?” Your voice is slurred and confused in a way that has his blood freezing. You very rarely got so sloshed you couldn’t function anymore but Soap knew what you were like even then, and this was not it.

When the phone connects to the car's Bluetooth he’s throwing his phone into the passenger seat and reversing so quickly the tyres screech in protest. He knows where you are, you were always good at updating him if you moved venues but it doesn’t stop him from double-checking.

He has to ask the question three times before you eventually confirm that you haven’t gone anywhere, his heart rate increasing frantically with each second that passes and he’s not by your side yet.

“Johnny? Wh’re you? I think somethin’s wrong. Don’t feel so good.” Your whimpers fill the car and Soap starts to drive even faster, blowing through two red lights and a stop sign with little concern over the inevitable tickets and demerits he’ll get.

“I know baby. Am almost there, just hold on a little longer.” He commanded as firmly and gently as possible. “Ye in the bathroom? Locked the door?”

Once again it takes a while for you to understand and respond to his question but when you do he allows himself to relax a little. He tries to ascertain where your friend has gone and not for the first time he wants to kill her when you tell him you have no idea where she’s gone.

“Johnny?” you call for him a few more times as if forgetting you’ve already gotten on the line.

He throws the car into park when he arrives, not bothering with the handbrake and not caring that he’s just stopped in the middle of the road. Cars are honking and people are yelling but he doesn’t give a single fuck, his mind is on a one-track mission.

He’s even left his phone on the seat in his haste and the door open. Undoubtedly, you’ll yell at him when he relays the details later but he’s willing to cop all of your anger if it means he gets to you in time.

He runs past the bouncer, outpacing the shouting man and ducking past various security members as he beelines towards the bathroom. Vaguely he recognises that he’s being chased but it doesn’t matter because he makes it to the ladies' bathroom well before they catch up.

It doesn’t even register that the bathroom door isn’t locked like you’d said it was when he bursts into the grimy space because his attention and fury are quickly dragged elsewhere. Namely to the motherfucker that was sticking his hand down your pants as you sobbed and tried to get away with your body’s sluggish movement.

He’s letting out a furious roar and when the man turns with wide eyes at the commotion behind him Johnny’s fist smacks into his nose with a sickening crack that sends him stumbling backwards bleeding and onto the tile floor.

It’s only the fact that your legs give out without someone supporting you that stops him from beating the man to death as he grabs you and pulls you against him.

You’re so out of it that you protest, pushing against his chest as you cry because you don’t recognise him straight away.

It takes a bit of cajoling and pressing soft kisses into your hairline before you recognise him but when you do you completely devolve into a crying, sobbing mess, collapsing against him even further as you finally allow yourself to feel all of the overwhelming panic you’d been trying to hold off.

Security’s caught up and the commotion they make as they barge into the bathroom sets you off even further and Soap simply shoots them a heated glare before shouldering past them with you safe in his arms.

Perhaps miraculously, both the car and his phone are still where he’d left him and Johnny gently deposits you in the passenger seat, clipping your seatbelt in. His heart shatters a little further when you start to beg him not to leave you.

“M not leaving ye bonnie, just need to get myself strapped in.”

“Promise?” you sound so small and Soap is now certain that once you’re safe and looked after he’d going to hunt down the scumbag that dared lay a finger on you. For now though,

“I promise love.” When he slips into the driver's seat you’re reaching blearily for his hand immediately and he takes it just as quickly, pulling away and driving far slower than he’d gone to get to you.

“I promise.” The words are so soft that they’re more for himself than you. They’re an oath that he’ll keep even if it kills him.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod john mactavish #cod soap #cod mw

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goddessofwisdom-7 · 6 months

Text

Sacrifice

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Percy Jackson & female!reader

Description: Set after Titan's Curse before BoL, you rendezvous to meet Percy before heading back to Luke and he contemplates the intensity of your love and sacrifice.

A/N: I read the books like 7 years ago so I'm not super duper canon compliant

Percy notices the grey in your hair first and a phantom pain rushes through him. It's more discolouration than either he, Annabeth or Luke has and it's striking.

It aged you so much and he wonders how long did you hold up the sky? Why did you hold up the sky?

But your fatal flaw had been self-sacrifice. You'd given yourself up before anything, before Luke would be forced to take Atlas' place.

And the sky lay on your shoulders for days before Luke realised that the plan was going slower than expected and he needed to give you some respite.

That's why he thought of Annabeth, that's why he took on the sky as a trap. And the only reason you didn't push her out of the way and take the burden was because you spent much of those days unconscious, drained.

Percy thought he should hate you.

But his own flaw was loyalty and for so long you were running interference, a buffer, to slow down Kronos' ambitions. And you were too devoted to Luke to leave him behind just yet.

Anyway, your decision to play double agent was riskier still and here you were. Sacrificing. Again. The other side could find out, and the consequences would be gory and painful but you came to meet Percy, to prepare him.

And all he could look at was how grey your hair was.

A vainer person would've coloured their hair.

Your eyes are tired, entire body tense as if preparing for sudden attack. But you smile bravely at him, and Percy gets whiplash with how weirdly similar you resemble his mother back when she was alone and suffering bravely for him.

"You don't have to go back, you know," He suggests.

It's a bad idea and you both know it. But

"We could keep you safe."

"You've gotten quite the growth spurt recently," you say instead, "thank you Percy, but I'm meant to be at his side in battle. I promised him that much."

Is it worth it though? He thinks bitterly.

You love him so much, it's going to kill you.

But Percy has yet to realise that you're counting on that. That you will die at his hand, and Luke who'd burn the world and destroy all souls for you might finally see the destructive nature of his ways– see clarity through grief.

It's horrible plan.

Or maybe he does realise it but hasn't truly understood.

Regardless, he moves forward and pulls you into a hug. His first sister, his crazy friend and foe. Gods, he's as tall as you now.

Your hand brushes the grey locks on his head and you slowly back away.

"See you around Percy. Take care."

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo fandom #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader

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worldofkuro · 21 days

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIV

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I... I wanted to wait a little moment before publishing the first chapter of season II. But, as you know me, I'm not a patient being, so I shall give you this chapter sooner than expected. I hope you will enjoy it, season II is going to be... wild, I think, but I hope you will love it as you loved season I. TW: Rape mention, smut, blood, knife play, cheating

“ Once again, the police have found a body, the right eye missing and a smile carved into the victim’s flesh. This had been going on for years, yet, the police, led by John Felleur, still haven't found a single clue about the serial killer that haunts New Orleans’s streets. The killer seems to attack men only, so my dear fellow gentlemen, you should stay vigilant!”

“ He loves the attention doesn’t he?”

You looked at Alice, as Alastor's voice was coming through the radio.

So many things have happened since your wedding, three years ago. Alastor and you had succeeded in creating a bond between your two souls, making you elated. The three spirits that helped you were very interested in what would happen and sometimes, Legba or Baron Samedi would pop up next to you, wanting to talk.

Your control over your power has been getting better and better. You didn’t need to raise your hands anymore if you wanted to create your shield or telekinesised something, you just needed to think about it. You could cast your soul out of your body for one hour now. You could see things in another room thanks to your eyes or your shadow. Your shadow, which you inherited from Alastor’s power, was easily tamed. It was even useful, but it would always have some kind of fight because Alastor’s shadow would tease it.

Talking about Alastor, he has become stronger and more popular. His killing methods have become even more sadistic, more evil and cunnier but you loved him for that. You still killed pigs, Alastor would stalk them, finding every information about them if they were worth killing. He always chose the filthiest of mankind, making it a pleasure to dispose of them.

He never injured himself, he didn’t want you to use your healing power which created a huge argument between the two of you. You would hurt yourself to learn more about your healing abilities which almost made him snap. That day, you made a deal with him, Alastor would hurt himself on purpose and you would only heal what he said you could. You didn’t like the idea but it was mostly small cuts, nothing life threatening.

Or you would heal yourself after Alastor has played with your body and a blade.

As skillful as he was as a killer, he was now a popular radio’s host. He would get invited to fancy soirée, always bringing you with him. He would dine with high society, finding new prey there. Sometimes, Alice would ask for your skills, telling you about new people to kill because of their sins.

Speaking of Alice, your best friend was wed. After the incident with Larry, she decided to find a nice man so she could settle down with and she founded Tray Felleur. He was from John’s family, a cousin or something, you didn’t care. He was a rich man, he looked familiar, the Felleur’s genes must be strong. You were very worried when she told you her choice, but after meeting him, you felt a little more relieved. He was a nice, intellectual man. Alice told you he never forced her to do anything, letting her do what she wanted.

Which means she would meet Alyzéee, who was also wed to a man. Most of the time, Alice would wait for Tray to leave for work and Alyzée would come so they could still live their romance. She would feel guilty, sometimes wondering if she should tell her husband where her true feelings were. You and Alastor always said it was a bad idea, you didn’t want her to be in trouble, you asked her to wait a little longer. What for? You didn’t know yourself, you just… You could feel it in your bones, she had to keep her secret.

“ Well, Alastor has always been like this right?” you smiled at her, giving her a piece of cake. “ How are you feeling?” you asked her, worried. These days, she seemed paler than usual, always tired.

“ Tired, but that might be because of yesterday’s soirée.” she winked at you. “ You should have seen Alyzée’s dress, she looked divine.”

You smiled at her, listening to her talk, fanning yourself. This summer was really hot for some reason. You gossiped together, talking about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ You don’t need another killing?” you asked as you drank fresh water. The last man she wanted dead was a man who had raped two women in two months. You enjoyed his screams more than you thought.

“ It seems like you are the one who needs to kill something.” she mocked you. You rolled your eyes at her, you didn’t feel the need to kill like Alastor would, but it's been a long time since you sunk your hand into someone's eyeballs.

You turned your head toward the entrance. He was home.

You smiled when you heard the door being opened. You stood up as you heard him walking into the living room.

“ How do you always know when he is coming home! Each time, it’s a different hour!” asked Alice, always shocked when you could tell when Alastor was coming home.

“ Good evening, Alice. What an unhappy expecting surprise to you here.” said Alastor with a mocking smile.

“ Even after all those years, you are still not a gentleman.”

‘ Only with my wife, right, my love?’

You smiled when you heard Alastor’s thoughts inside your mind. It was a new power you both acquired when you bond your souls togethers. You could talk in each other’s mind which created funny moments.

Be nice, Alastor. Alice is staying for dinner.

‘Of course, she is.’

You walked toward Alastor and kissed his cheeks before going into the kitchen. You have been living together since your honeymoon, buying furnitures, painting the walls. You still haven’t finished one of the bedrooms.

“ Unfortunately, I think I can’t stay with you for dinner.”

“ What? But I was going to make your favorite dish!” you shouted, going back into the living room with a pan in your hand. “ Did Alastor say something?”

“ Honey…”

“ Do you think he could make me change my opinion?” she raised an eyebrow.

“ Right, so why? Are you still feeling unwell?”

“No… It’s just…” She sat on the sofa, sighing. You sat next to her, taking her hands while Alastor was looking at her with his usual smile. “ I am pregnant.”

….

“ What?” you said in unison with Alastor.

“ You told me he never forced himself on you!” You stood up, your eyes flashing red. Alice just stared at you in silence. You knew she saw your eyes flashing red multiple times but she never asked you anything about it.

“ Do you need us to kill him?” asked calmly Alastor.

“ Calm down, the both of you. He didn’t force himself on me. I wanted a child, so this has to happen. He asked me multiple times if this is what I wanted, I said yes. He didn’t do anything bad.” she stood up, taking your hands in hers. “ But there is something worrying me. I think Alyzée is being stalked by someone… She says she feels like she is being watched.”

You looked at Alastor who seemed in deep thoughts.

What do you think?

‘ Alyzéee is the daughter of the mayor’s who have been in power forever. It’s not surprising.’

Yes, but why now?

‘ That is something we shall need to discover.’

“ We will take a look at it. You, stay at home, we wouldn’t want a future mother to get hurt, right?” he smirked at her.

You looked at Alice.

“ So, you… are pregnant. Is it good news?”

“ Yes, I’m happy.” she put her hands on her belly with a shy smile. “ I’m going to be a mother.”

You screamed in joy before rushing into hugging her. You squeezed her against you, being mindful of her belly even if she was still not showing yet.

“ How long have you known?”

“Maybe… three months?”

You looked at her with a beaming smile.

“ Is it really good news, really?” you grabbed her shoulders. “ Please, do not lie to me.”

“ It is. Alyzée knows and she is happy for me. In a way… We think of it as our child.” She smiled at you, her cheeks flushed.

“ Well, congratulations ladies. This child will be happy to have Alyzée as its mother. I’m not sure about you..”

“ Fuck you, Alastor.”

“ See ?”

You smiled as you hugged her one more time. You walked her toward the door, making sure she was alright. She smiled at you, she seemed really happy about sharing her pregnancy’s news with you. Was she scared you would judge her? You promised her you would protect Alyzée from whatever was stalking her.

“ Nothing will hurt your family.” you said to her. Alice looked at you, taking your hand in yours.

“ You know, you are part of my family as well.” she whispered to you. “ Even Alastor but never let him know that.”

“ I heard you.”

“ Fuck off!” she shouted before looking at you. “ Please, be careful. If you need anything, ask me.”

You nodded before watching her go. You looked as the cab took her home. You went back home, looking at Alastor with an exciting smile. He was looking at you, tilting his head.

“ Why are you so happy?”

“ Alice is going to be a mother! “

“ Poor child.”

“ Alastor.”

You both went into the kitchen, preparing your dinner. If someone were to see the both of you, they would mostly think they were dreaming. You were moving everything you needed in the air with your power, the plates placing themselves on the tables, the vegetables being cut while Alastor was boiling the water.

You smiled when you saw Alastor’s shadow begin, once more, to tease yours. They were fighting each other, you could see them on the wall. You looked at the clock, you weren’t hungry yet…

“ Alastor, should we finish painting the last bedroom?” you asked, taking off your apron. “ I’m not hungry yet.”

You watched as he looked at his watch and then he nodded, following you upstairs. You walked in and looked at the remaining wall you needed to finish. You took a paintbrush and dept it in the paint. You looked as Alastor took off his vest, staying in a light white shirt.

You both painted before an idea emerged in your mind. You smirked as you looked at Alastor who was telling you about his day. You took your brush and called his name making him look at you and threw paint on his face.

“ … Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?”

“ What game?” you tilted your head, smiling innocently. Your smile widened when you saw his smirk.

“ Mhn…”

You yelped when you felt the shadow held you while Alastor was painting your cheeks, smirking at you. You laughed, trying to escape from the shadow. Yours was jumping on Alastor’s, taking it away from you. You looked as both shadows were happily fighting each other. You quickly took paint and threw it at Alastor as he shielded himself with his arms.

You laughed, this life was the one you would protect.

After washing yourself, you went back to the kitchen to finish your cooking. You sat on the table and began eating.

“ How should we find Alyzée’s stalker ? Should we send our shadow?” you asked as Alastor made you eat from his fork.

“ Oh, my love, no. Do we really need to waste our power for this?” he laughed, waving his hand in the air. “ We need to kill John, remember?”

“ How could I forget? But right now, he isn’t a threat. The stalker could be, what if he found out about Alice’s relationship?” you asked as he wiped the sauce from your lips.

“ If this is what you wish for, we shall take care of Alyzée’s stalker. It shouldn’t take long, nor be difficult.” he said as he leaned against his chair. You smiled at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “ What?”

“ You are so sure of yourself, I admire that.”

“ Because no one could make me doubt my abilities,” he said before kissing your forehead. “ You should stay with Alyzée, try to see if you feel something when you are with her.”

“ Should I cast an eye on her?” you tilted your head. It was a new power you acquired, you could watch someone. It was like your eyes were watching from above.

“ You aren’t in full control of it and it’s tiring you faster than your other powers. Just keep Alyzée some company, tell me anything that is strange.”

You nodded, you closed your eyes. It was going to be easy.

—---

“ Yes, Alice told me you would… watch me?”

“ It's just like we are used to, hanging out. I’m just being a little more… watchful while we are together, Alyzée.”

Alyzée was in front of you, her long red hair moving with each movement she made, her deep blue eyes watching you, worried. You really were surrounded by beautiful people.

“ I’m more worried about Alice, I don’t want her to be sick because she is worried for me.” she said as she drank her tea. You looked at her, drinking your hot chocolate. You weren’t very close with Alzyée, she was more of an acquaintance but the conversations were always lovely with her.

“ Alice is strong, no need to worry. Right now, you might be in danger.” you said to her. She shrugged with a little smile.

“ Nothing that I’m not used to.”

You looked at her, observing her.

“ How is your wedding going, Alyzée?”

“ It is going well. My husband is always out working, which makes me have more time with Alice, so it’s a win-win situation. We don’t really talk to each other, we don’t… really care about each other. I might be envious of Alice’s wedding, they are like friends.” she said with a sad smile.

“ You know she only loves you.”

“ Oh, I know. I’m not doubting Alice’s affection for me, far from it.” she smiled at you. She put her cup down.

You stared behind Alyzée, a man was now sitting on the table behind her, his hat hiding his face.. You gestured to her to keep talking, fixing your gaze on the man behind you. Was he listening to you? What did he hear?

“ What about your wedding with Alastor?”

“ I have never been happier.” You smiled at her, still staring at the man. “ And I shall protect this happiness I gain.”

You stood up, guiding Alyzée toward the exit after paying. You told her to walk to Alice’s home, before hiding yourself in a dark alley. If the man was stalking her, he would have to pass in front of you.

You waited patiently in the dark, but you never saw the man you were looking for. Maybe it was just an error from you…

You gasped as you felt yourself being tugged by your hair, your back hitting the floor. You turned your head toward the man who was tugging you deeper into the dark alley. You couldn’t see him at all but you were sure it was the man from the coffee shop, you could feel it.

Your eyes flashed red, your shadow moving toward the man with a hideous smile. He let you go and you didn’t wait before standing up. You looked around, there was trash all around the alley. That would do. You moved the broken pieces of glass, nails and anything that could hurt, with your mind and threw them at the man who seemed to have escaped your shadow’s wrath.

You shouted in anger as you saw him running into an alley, your flying weapon digging into the wall. You ran after him, screaming at him to stop. As you turned into the alley, you hit something so hard it made you fall back on the hard ground. You moaned in pain, trying to stand up again, you couldn’t let him go, not yet.

“ Put your hands in the air, Police of New Orleans!”

You turned your head toward the light of a flashlight behind you. When you looked back in front of you, the man wasn’t there anymore. You spat blood on the floor, your eyes turning their usual color.

“ Are you okay, lady?”

“ Yes, thank you.” You turned around as the officer brought you in the busy street. You flinched when you saw the man. “ John, what are you doing here?”

“ There is a serial killer on the loose, we are making patrol.”

“ From what I heard, the killer murders men, not women.”

“ Can you just thank me? I just saved your life.” John said as he gave you a tissue so you could wipe your bleeding nose.

“ Thank you, officer.” you said sarcastically. “ Can I go home now?”

“ I’ll walk you toward a hospital, to see if you are okay.” You stared at him, as he put his gun back on his hips. John seemed to have changed, he was more serious, he seemed taller but his gaze hadn’t changed when he was looking at you.

You sighed as John walked beside you. You were so angry at yourself to have let this man go, you were this close to have him! You wanted to tear off your hair from your head, it was so embarrassing!

‘ Did he do that? Tell me, I’ll kill him right now.’

You stopped walking when you lifted up your head, Alastor was in front of you, it seemed like he had just finished working.

“ Mr. Felleur, please tell me why my wife is injured, next to you?” he said as he smiled like usual even if you could see anger swirling in his eyes. “ Please, answer me quickly.”

“ Mr.Sanglar, your wife has been attacked by a man, I happened to be there to save her life.” John said as you ran into Alastor’s side. Your husband stared at your face, observing every emotion in your eyes.

It’s nothing, I think I found Alyzée’s stalker. He seemed more aggressive than I thought.

‘ What about John?’

He came in time to make him flee.

“ Well, Officier Felleur, thank you for bringing my wife to me. I shall take it from here.”

“ I need her to write if she happens to see his face. It could be the serial killer I’m after.”

You tried to hide your smile while Alastor laughed out loud. Oh, John…

“ Oh right, but I think she would have told you if she saw something, right? But this is not the case. So, if you allow us, we shall go.” He wrapped one arm around your waist before walking away from John who just stared at you.

You looked at the tissue John has given you to wipe your blood off your face.

“ Should I give it back?”

“ No, never give something with your blood on it.”

Alastor walked you back to your car, opened the door for you before settling behind the steering wheel. You waited for him to drive but he stayed silent. You looked at him, curiously.

“ Alastor, my love ?”

You flinched when you saw him punch the steering wheel, grinding his teeth. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened.

“ I’m okay, darling. I just… didn’t expect to see you hurt.” He said before driving toward your home.

Home…

Wait.

“ Alastor no! Alice and Alyzée are maybe in danger!”

“ Does it look like I care, my love? You are hurt.” he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

“ Alastor, stop the car!” you shouted.

Alastor stopped the car on a deserted road, the one you always used to go home. He looked at you, his smile twitching. Your eyes were red and so was his.

“ Alastor, Alice is pregnant, Alyzée doesn’t know how to fight, they need us! What if the man is already there?”

“ Love of my life, curse of my sanity, Alice's family is the RicheMont. They have maids, butlers, their houses are on the richest quartier of New Orleans. Do you really think a mere human could walk in like that?” he asked you, his grip tightening on the wheel. “ They are safe there, my shadow is watching.”

You looked at Alastor, feeling relieved.

“ Alastor… A mere human fought me.”

“ You used your powers?”

“ My shadow and Telekinesis.” you sighed, hiding your face in your head. “ But I don’t think he saw it. He was already running away when I used it. I think he must have felt my shadow like vines or something else.. And he ran away when he saw John behind me, the gun must have scared him off.”

“ I see…” He took your face between his hands, staring at your face before kissing your lips. You sighed against his lips as he tugged you on his laps. “ Are you trying to make me mad, coming at me with blood on your face next to this prick?” he asked against your lips.

“ No…” you breathed against his lips, kissing him more eagerly. You felt his hands on your waist, his nails digging into your skin through the clothes. “ I’m just… Angry at myself?”

“ Why?”

“ Because I let my prey run away.” you stared at him, anger still present in your body. He looked at you with an amused expression. He stroked your cheeks while you leaned against his palm.

“ Not for long… This man hurted you. His death has been decided.” You kissed his lips after his sentence.

“ This is my prey, Alastor, don’t steal it from me.”

“ He hurted you, my love. You can’t ask me to just–” you kissed him once more.

“ Yes, yes, but please, let me kill him in the end.” you smiled at him when you felt him relaxed underneath you. He nodded, sighing with a smile. You kissed his lips once more when you saw his smile and went back to your seat.

Alastor started back the car, driving you home. You walked home and sigh in bliss, nothing was better than being home. You let yourself fall on the sofa, what a day.

You let your husband cook for you as you looked at yourself through the window of the living room. You stood up and walked toward a mirror and saw the bruises on your face. You quickly took off the top of your dress and winced when you managed to see the cut on your back. Was it from when the man dragged you on the floor?

You sighed before concentrating on each cut. You could feel your power healing each cut, even the bruises on your face. This cold energy was seeping through your body, like a sweet caress before taking the pain away.

You opened your eyes, looking at the purple hues that were staring back at you. You saw Alastor watching you through the mirror, his arms crossed on his chest. You tilted your head as he walked toward you. He kissed your bare back, kissing each place a bruise has been made before you healed yourself.

You smiled softly, you wondered if he was aware he was doing the same thing you used to do when he was injured. Kissing his scars… You turned to him when you felt his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your face, his eyes looking at you.

“ Don’t let others injure you my dear. This is my privilege, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your face. You nodded when you felt his nails on your back. You sighed in bliss when you felt his nails dig into your back, the same place where the bruises had been a moment ago.

“ Please…” You looked at him, through half closed eyes. “ Mark me…”

You gasped when you felt him pin you on the table, your chest against the hardwood. You almost whined when you felt the cold blade against your back. You turned your head toward him, begging him with your eyes.

He slid the knife against your skin, tracing the cut you just have healed, the cut that wasn't from him but someone else. You closed your eyes, feeling your body relax. You wondered if it was normal to feel safe when your loved one was cutting your skin, never deep enough to hurt you, to scar you but deep enough to root you, to make you remember who was the one behind this knife.

You moaned your husband's name as he kissed your neck, feeling the blood sliding from your back. He hummed against your skin, kissing the blood that was coming from the small cuts he made.

You pushed your behind against his waist. You felt his smile against your skin, as you moaned.

“ I need to feel you…”

“ Mhn.. Really..?” he said, cutting your dress from your legs until he could see your bare form underneath him.

You shivered when you heard him take off his belt. You bit your lip when you felt the blade cutting your skin once more and your eyes rolled back when you felt him penetrate you slowly. You could feel every veins on his penis, your walls clenching around him.

He kissed your neck as the blade cut your skin once more, his hips pushing against you. You were holding on the table, trying to think. All you could feel was Alastor, inside you, around you. You watched as one of his hands was next to your head, holding himself up with this hand because the other one was busy carving into your skin.

You opened your mouth before biting him hard on the wrist. You heard his breath hitch, before biting harder against his skin when you felt him set a pace that made your eyes rolled back into your skull.

“ Fuck… !” you heard him moan, making you clench on his member.

You whined, your head swirling with arousal. How you loved when Alastor wasn’t his composed self.

You bite his forearms once more, your teeth digging into his skin, making him lose his pace, his hips pounding into. You grabbed the end of the table, crying from pleasure, screaming your husband’s name.

I love you.

‘ I love you.’

You came on his member as he dug the knife on your back once more. You felt like the world stopped, keeping your teeth in his arms, your hands gripping at the table, your walls clenching on his shaft, you almost black out when you felt Alastor’s pace getting faster and roughter.

You gasped, breathing once more when you felt Alastor’s weight on your back, his seed filling your womb. You held his hand, trying to root yourself to him, still sensible from your orgasm. You were both panted hard, coming back to yourself.

“ Are you with me, my love…?” Panted Alastor, his hand letting go of the knife and caressing your soft skin. “ Come on, dear…”

“ Yes… Yes… I’m okay..” you squeezed his arms, reassuringly.

He leaned back, after kissing your neck one last time. You sighed when you felt him leaving your warmth. You looked at him as he admired his handiwork on your back.

“ Do you want to heal it?” he asked, stroking your uncut skin.

You softly shook your head with a fond smile.

“ No, I want to feel them a little longer…”

He smiled before leaning down to kiss your lips. You kissed him back, stroking his cheeks with your right hand. How you loved him…

“ After all the killings I have done, you are my best prey, my love.”

You giggled at his words. You stood up slightly, sighing in bliss when you felt each cut on your skin. What delicious pain your husband had given you…

He kissed your neck with a big smile.

“ Now, how should we trap our next prey?”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 20 days

Text

A DC X DP IDEA #31

You and I, we’re not the same.

Imagine dis…

Corrupted ectoplasm is always the main reason why Jason had a pit rage. I know it was because he was dumped in Lazarus' pits when he was found wandering around.

What if I offer you guys another reason why he rages so much?

…

Lady Gotham is devastated by her little squire, her beloved child laid to rest. The little boy used to play around her alley as if it was the best playground he ever played in. The little boy whom she shielded personally with her shadows to hide from those who wished harm to her child. The little boy who shines the brightest when he laughs, and that good-for-nothing pest killed him.

If she had enough strength within her city she would have already dragged that clown’s soul to the deepest and darkest place of her realm but couldn't. She needed whatever ectoplasm and strength she had to bring him back. Her Dark Knight is getting reckless by the day, gone the knight that would protect and see the goodness in this cesspool of a city, was replaced by a man who is still grieving for the loss of his child and taking it out on everyone but mostly himself.

The boy rose and could dig himself out but his father didn't find him, someone else did.

That day Lady Gotham wailed in devastation. Every Gothamite felt and heard something, from the people who had hidden in the deepest of corners of her city for protection to the labyrinths that hold countless undead Talons all of whom simultaneously shivered as they all seemingly heard a mother’s scream that had just lost her child again.

…

It was assassins that had found him that was true but they didn't find him in his grave, they had found him wandering around with instincts and muscle memory as his only tool to survive. At first, Ra thought that he was the missing link, the key to everlasting life but after countless research and experiments thought that Jason Todd was a fluke in the greater systems. Seeing that Talia’s leverage on her beloved is about to be disposed of, she immediately throws Jason into the pits as it may have not raised the dead but he is alive enough for the pits to heal.

When Jason Todd was dipped into the green glowing waters of the Lazarus pits they didn't see it…

They didn't see the way the pits seemed to split Jason Todd in half. As if answering a man or a father’s prayer.

I need no other child as long as mine can split themselves in half.

At that moment, deep within the deep waters of the pits, there were two.

One who looked far too different from what he looked like before, a body that had been fixed by the pits.

One who had been left behind, the body of a teen who had been too malnourished.

The pits split Jason Todd apart, while the other one started to gasp for air and began swimming to the top, the other continued to sink into the endless pit.

No one was there to witness it but as the other one sank deeper a portal manifested behind the sinking Jason Todd swallowing him whole as if there was no one else.

…

Jason knew the moment he woke up in the middle of the Lazarus pit, was rage. RAGE for naively believing his birth giver yet she had given him to the Joker for safety, RAGE for not being avenged by his father, RAGE for being replaced before his body even turned cold…

rage for something, MISSING?!?!?!!?

Jason knew that there was a part of him missing, maybe it was the once young innocent naïve child that loved theater, perhaps it was the once hopeful child to help their home into something more, but it was because deep down he knew that there was something wrong with him.

He had memories missing or even spotty and blurry at best. He knew he used to help Alfred around the kitchen but the feelings and the details behind such core memory vanished. The sense of joy and utter happiness, when DAD Bruce bought a first edition book that he had been eyeing for a while, the fear and dread to open and read, said book in fear of damaging his first ever gift.

He knew that if the rest knew of it he would be kicked out, just when they were both trying to mend their broken bridges. So he kept it all in memories and emotions that should have been present are gone as if someone had cut through him and dragged those out.

But it all clicked in one normal night during patrol.

…

He was just swinging from one building to another when he felt it, a pulse, calling out to him. Every inch of him is screaming to follow it as if something is begging him to go, so he does.

Upon arriving at, his former rundown apartment. Where he and his mom, Catherine, once shared and called home.

Slowly entering the said apartment there he saw his old room where he and Catherine slept while cuddling when she had drugs out of her system.

A teen, looks exactly like him, same eyes that have the same shade of blue that the butler managed to capture before his death. The shape of his eyes, the way his hair was styled, the way he looked at Jason as if he was in danger.

But the moment the two of them met their eyes something clicked inside them.

They are each other’s half…

…

Jason and Danny, after he introduced himself which made him a bit confused and so that there would be no mix-ups seeing both of them are technically Jason Peter Todd, both began exchanging stories to each other seeing that even though they have no idea how and why they were separated better yet they don’t know how come Danny traveled to the past to be raised normally.

…

As Danny begins to narrate his story Jason can’t help but let his mind wander here he is. Talking to a version of him if Joker didn’t happen. A smart and innocent version of him that has a loving family, and haven’t have any blood in their hands. The perfect son, something Bruce would be ecstatic about. He is ruling over Crime Alley using every dirty trick in the book. Yet a version of him became the perfect vigilante, despite death wanting to do good and see good in everyone.

I am the sinner, and you are the saint.

…

I am the sinner, and you are the saint.

Danny thought as he in turn listened to his other part, he knew that that Jason the one in front of him was the one who made it out. While he merely drifted at the bottom, Danny felt envious of Jason despite the two being the same person just different experiences. Yet the moment he regained Jason Todd-Wayne’s memories he can't help but laugh at fate for pulling their strings. A billionaire who wanted to be his son, eccentric parents, dying once again with no mom nor dad within sight… He was laughing deep within his room when he got his memories back.

Even Clockwork looked at him with pity? Sympathy? sorry? He doesn't care when the ghost visits him for a timely visit.

Here he is looking at the version of him if he ever came back to Bruce. The father had yelled at him about not wanting teenage rebellion from him. When he remembered his memories it was already far too long when the League of Assassins had him and Bruce already had a shinier Robin, a perfect son and the perfect brother to Richard Grayson. So he didn’t reach out despite remembering each code that could verify his identity. Each secret and each whisper that only Jason Todd knew and experienced.

So he stayed, stayed with a family that practically raised him a family that neglected him and their biological daughter. But in the end, he still died, for their cause, he may be considered a trained individual but fought humans, not immortal-like beings that seem to have their version of madness.

His parents whom he grew to love and care for parents despite their shortcomings, still opened him up and explored his insides when they learned the truth.

It made him chuckle, he just never did learn, did he…

He escaped, running from one city to another, never staying for too long as many heroes despite their dislike of him when Grayson made his hatred known for him, learned and still watched him grow into a young teen.

So when he was living from one state to another, to avoid detection, lose his trail, escape his hunters, going back to his training as Robin as well as the memory of being a street kid deep within Gotham’s dirty alley. So when he first entered the city boundaries, Danny could feel it, the way Lady Gotham immediately welcomed him.

He heard it all, how Red Hood controlled crime, how he staking his claim on Crime Alley that even the Bats had forsaken. How within his rule was better than any gang or leader who did try and control that section of Gotham.

Danny can’t help but feel envy, here his other self doing good to the place where he crawled from. His other being the vigilante who made a change, has the drive to fight and protect, the drive to dirty his hands to ensure that the kids in his territory live a somewhat normal life. So when he made eye contact he knew that he was the sinner.

So here he was talking and listening to a grown Jason Todd of him. It made him cringe the moment he saw him, it made him think of Dan, the way he stood, his expressions, and even the tiniest of details. The anger, if Danny and Jason never met again despite one knowing of the other’s identity.

…

If one looked from outside of their little bubble one would see two beings. Who truly understood, acknowledged, and accepted each other. No matter how different the two are, one would comment that they look like soulmates, who gravitate toward each other and readily accept each other’s edges. One would whisper that the two are brothers, who support each other and rely to each other.

No matter, the Gothamites muttered, Gotham never have felt more content and at home than the day they saw Jason Todd, the supposed right-hand man of Red Hood, and Danny Nightgale, the Gotham’s guardian for the children. Talking and spending time to each other.

Now, if only Batman and Co. stop sneaking in to take a glance at their new resident.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton

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scorpioriesling · 2 months

Note

May I please politely beg for a fic based on the Eris bc post you did? It was so good and I’d love to see him confront Rhys + co and taking care/loving reader

I’m the “Bad Guy”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: some graphic-ish injury

Summary: Eris Vanserra; he was your… what? Enemy? Ally? Both? Sort of — at least, that’s what Rhysand says, and whatever your High Lord says, goes. But, Eris saw you for more than anyone in your court ever could, and deep down you knew he had one more title, reserved for just you: true love. What happens when you’re in danger, and he’s the first and only one you go running to?

SR’s Note: Yes you absolutely can have a fic based on Eris’ HC in this post. No need to beg — I’m happy to oblige. Here it is, I hope you like it. xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace, embers creating a soft glow in the darkened sitting room. Eris was alone, lounging on the sofa in the Forest House, his newest read in hand. He liked spending his time this way — alone, reading, warm. He felt… content.

Little did he know, you’d quite enjoyed your evenings the same way.

Sure, he knew you shared an interest in reading. That’s where he usually found you when he’d visit the Night Court — shelf combing in the library of the House of Wind; curled in a chair, a different book to read each time he would see you again; sometimes, you’d even be caught talking about your favorite ones with Nesta. You quite enjoyed her, as well as her company and character, as she was very honest and real with you.

Yet, another thing in you’d shared in common.

On this particular evening though, the sun had already long set and the stars were sprinkling the sky when Eris felt his body tense on instinct. He had suddenly lost interest in what he was reading when he heard a commotion coming from outside. Well, not a commotion, but rather some sort of… crying. Whimpering, rather. He straightened in his chair, straining his ears to hear what was happening beyond the windows of the Forest House.

Usually, when this happened, it was the work of Beron — some cruel or unusual punishment that Eris had learned long ago to stay out of. Recently, tensions were running high with the Night Court; though Eris was still secretly meeting with them, it didn’t change that his father wanted to sever all ties with the solar court completely.

But this… this time, it was different.

“Please… please…”

Eris’ heartstrings pulled in his chest as he strained to listen, wanting to make any excuse or reason for his ears to be deceiving him.

But, he knew in his heart, they were not.

In an instant, he’d snapped his novel shut and was racing toward the front door. He threw it open, rounding the corner of the house and bolting for the enormous hedge maze in the backyard of the grounds. He wasn’t sure exactly what had come over him; on any other day, he’d leave you to suffer as he would the other Night Court Inner Circle members. But the squeeze of barbed wire around his heart propelled him forward.

He knew you were here. He knew it was you that needed him.

It was an odd feeling, tearing around corners in search of the one woman he’d thought over and over about torturing. He’d thought of you crying. He’d thought about how he could hurt you. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. So be it. You weren’t perfect either. Over the last few years, he’d even thought of how he’d kill you himself — just, once, he’d thought of this. It was during a meeting with the entire Inner Circle, of course; Eris was present. He’d arrived early and heard you, again, talking to Nesta about your ideas on strategy and negotiation. Though you were speaking of ideas that would affect him directly, he didn’t care — the ideas were good. Nesta wasn’t shy to give credit where it was due, either.

But, none of that mattered because during the meeting, you hadn’t opened your mouth once or said a word about your ideas. You’d tried to interject, actually — but Rhysand was quick to silence you.

But how did you handle that?

Like a good pet would. You sat, and stayed silent. Just like you always did. You’d never challenge your High Lord, oh Cauldron no — he could just simply use you as a doormat, and it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe that’s what pissed Eris off so badly.

He knew what you were capable of, what you had to offer, and what you were worth; but it seemed that most of the Inner Circle didn’t bat an eye at you, especially Rhys, whom you bowed to and that was that. Your talents could be used for so much more, but you always stayed within the guidelines in which you were allowed.

“Please… Eris…someone help me…”

Eyes straining in the night, Eris followed your pained cries until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large marble water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck. Drying crimson flakes dirtied your usually vibrant tendrils, and your hands braced over your abdomen, hot tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you peered up at him in desperation. His heart split in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him as he took in your appearance in full.

But, his sadness turned very quickly, to anger. You laid, panting and in pain, in his court, on his grounds. No explanation, no one coming to help you. He felt... violent.

He knelt down to your level, leaning in and stretching a hand out to trail over your face, registering the blood pouring from inside your lip. He then reached up to move your hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing maroon pool you two were in.

Well, one of the causes. Your hands still covered your stomach.

He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, a few blood-tainted drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over the bone. You relaxed a bit at his touch, though he usually appeared so tense and malicious. When he looked into your eyes again, his whiskey irises were dulled to a deep bourbon, and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Come with me."

He stood then and wrapped his arms around your knees and lower back, scooping you up and carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out a few small yelps here and there as the searing pain in your stomach was getting to be too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. Your usually soft eyes met his, and his wire-wrapped heart strained once more. He’d felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were in his eyes. A gentle, wise, little doe. His little doe.

Whatever he’d been feeling before, it was long gone. The only thoughts clouding his mind were ones of keeping you safe, helping you in every way he could, and providing you with everything you could need.

Little did he realize, you just needed him. Wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

When Eris had finally made it inside, he sat you gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and ran to the washroom. It wasn’t long before he’d returned, presenting a small wet cloth in one hand and taking your chin between his fingers kindly in the other. He began to wipe away the trailing stains all over your delicate skin, trying so hard to stay gentle with you; trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others. He felt better seeing you relax into his touch a bit as he continued to work.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. It was one thing he pretended to hate; he “hated” your kindness to everyone, even his father, of all people. He “hated” your soft voice, one he wasn’t used to hearing all that often. He also “hated” your gentle loving nature — so, so much he “hated” it.

He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes to attempt to ground his senses and avoid thinking about punishing whoever hurt you like this. It only caused him more agony, watching as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping away the last of the blood from your hairline, he dropped his head for a moment, raking a hand through his hair.

“I can’t stall for you any longer, love.” He said softly. Your stomach muscles continued to tense under your palms, and you watched as he rolled a clean cloth between his hands.

"I’m going to put this,” he held up the rolled cloth.

“In here," he tucked it into your open mouth. You closed your mouth over it, so usually defiant towards your “sworn enemy”, but, really...

You'd do anything he asked of you.

His hands moved to cover your bloody ones, still clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N... you’re going to have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, fresh pain raging from the wound in your abdomen. Eris sighs, looking to you with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N… you have to help me help you.” His thumbs stroke over your knuckles, now covered in your blood — and you begin to remove your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp as he sees your laceration in full, and shakes his head slowly. He sits back on his knees, positioning himself between yours.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your clammy fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on yours for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest,” he begins. “I've thought about hurting you before, as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus on his words as your mind started to fog over, your vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view between your knees, his fingers ablaze with his gift of fire. You immediately sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again, his tone warning. His fingers meets your bubbling would, flames searing the skin as a scream tears through your dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for just a moment — only to press heat onto your would again within seconds.

Your hands claw at the collar of his white button down, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would, flames stinging and burning your sensitive flesh.

Over. Over. Over again.

You tilt your head back, the familiar weightless feeling becoming all too apparent. You felt it coming; you were going to black out. His once-white collar begins to slip from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before glazing over as you slink into darkness.

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Soft streams of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow when you open your eyes again. You register the feeling of comfy, loose-fitting pants amid the cool, mahogany silk sheets you’re enveloped in. You blink a few times, and reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

When your eyes adjust, you realize what’s so different; everything. The sun is illuminating the room from a window. A window across this… bedroom, with a stoked fireplace and four poster oak bed. A bed with mahogany sheets, a stark contrast to your usual lilac ones at home — as well as the teakwood bookshelf along the far wall. At least those are familiar, most of the titles. One novel is laying on the window seat; it’s one you’d just finished last week.

Then, the realization hits you; you were in Eris' room.

You try to sit up, but wince in pain and end up laying back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you donned. A thick bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing your abdominal injury. Your mind wandered to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

Within moments, Eris appeared in the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" In three steps, he’s made it to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head in honesty, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

He knew you’d be honest with him. Yet, another thing he “hated” about you.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to choke out. Eris readjusts to face you, scooting closer and reaching out a hand to stroke through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of freezing snow under your knees, the jagged rocks slicing into your palms would only be the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you swallow, the lump in your throat only growing as another tear slips free. Usually, he’d be the type to taunt you for crying or appearing so weak, but Eris only brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away.

"The fucking Blood Rite?" He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second. The muscle in his jaw feathers as his eyes train on yours, and you nod in confirmation. His other hand rests on yours clasped atop the sheets, and you can’t help but register the heat he is emitting, even from the small touch.

He sighs, hanging his head low and shaking it slowly. When he makes eye contact again, he takes your hands reassuringly in his. “Y/N, I’m only going to ask you one more time. Who. Did. This. To you.” You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and you lean forward an inch, almost nose to nose with him. His strong scent of cinnamon and burnt timber wafts through your senses, and you feel a small tug on your heartstrings.

“Eris, look it’s not anyone’s fault, okay? I mean, well, it is…” you begin with a sigh, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “I was sleeping over at the House of Wind with Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie, and… oh, the guys were there too, for most of the night. Cassian and Azriel.” You explain. He nods for you to continue.

“Well, we were just having a nice time and when we went to sleep, I don’t know I just… one minute I was asleep and the next, I had a mask on my eyes and someone was… uh…. mm… uhm covering my mouth and… Nesta was screaming-“ you hadn’t noticed your hands beginning to shake, until Eris laced his fingers with yours. You took a steadying breath, but the shaking only subsided a little as you still remembered the horrors of the night prior.

“So… Cassian and Azriel. They were supposed to be watching you.” Eris says evenly. You look at him incredulously.

“Watching? Oh, hardly. I mean, we’re not eight years old, Eris.” You explain. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek and contemplating your words. You can practically see the gears turning in that beautiful little head.

“It seems a little chat is in order.” He chides. Your eyes widen, and your hand braces on his bicep. He glances down at your touch, then back to your face again, nose still just inches from yours.

“No! Uh… I mean, no. Please.” You say. “They haven’t done anything wrong, and-“

“I’d hardly say allowing for you to be kidnapped for the damned Blood Rite is an inexcusable offense.” He interrupts. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Andddd, I shouldn’t have been allowed to winnow at the Blood Rite. Anyone found using their powers or plotting to escape the rite once it’s begun is…” you trail off. He nods. He knows; it’s an executable offense. Bringing any of this to attention could perhaps put you in more danger.

He didn’t care. He was prepared to do anything to save you, just as he’d done the night before. He definitely wouldn’t allow some dirty Illyrians get their hands on you again, either.

“How were you able to winnow, anyway? I thought powers weren’t able to be used on Romiel during the Blood Rite,” he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, wincing and regretting the movement.

“I don’t know… maybe, since no one knows I am capable of winnowing, they didn’t think it’d be necessary to shield those abilities from me? I don’t know Eris, I don’t know how all this works.” You say exasterbatedly, absentmindedly wiping at your nose again. Eris only seems to become more troubled by your response.

“So… they didn’t teach you to winnow, you just… did it… and they didn’t think you could do anything with your powers, so much so that no one bothered to remove them?” His voice pitches, and you nod in agreement.

“I suppose.” He slips his hand from yours, standing and straightening his shirt. He moves toward the door, not uttering another word.

“Eris, where are you-“

“Y/N, trust me; I’m only doing you justice. You’ll thank me later, dove.”

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

“What are you doing out of bed?”

You hear him before you see him. When you slowly turn from your spot at the stovetop, Eris is leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin on his lips, brow raised in question. You roll your eyes, the only movement you can do at normal speed without tensing in pain.

“Well, smart guy,” you say. “You ran off and left me for half the day, and didn’t feed me. So, I forced myself up and… went on a little scavenger hunt. To the kitchen.” You say simply. He scoffs and strides over to you, stopping to lean against the counter behind you. You turn to face him, and he glances at the bandage peeking out from below your top.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, no tone or condescension evident in his voice. You cautiously take his hand in yours, and his eyes gaze at you in silent question. You press his palm to your side, and smile softly at him. All those years thinking he was your enemy; all those years thinking he would truly hurt you; all those years suppressing what you knew was true all along. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy that everyone made him out to be. You knew he was a good male.

“I'm stronger than you thought, hmm?” You say with a wink. His eyes soften, and a little smile plays on his lips as his other hand braces your other hip bone. He pulls you close, so close your pelvis is touching his upper thighs. You peer up at him through your lashes as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’ve always been the strongest woman I’ve known.”

You blush at his words, finally accepting what you’ve been running from all along; you care for Eris. Truly, you did. Why else would you winnow here, of all places? Why else would you feel a familiar tug on your heart strings when he was around?

You cared.

And, Cauldron behold; he did too.

“And… you had to show me how strong you could be today?” You ask, your tone dipping low. Eris rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“All I did was go over there, and demand to know why the hell they’d allow for you to be kidnapped in your own home-“ You gasp and swat his arm lightly.

“Eris!” You scold. He grins down at you, taking your face in his hands and looking at you lovingly.

“Maybe I should irritate you more… look at you, taking initiative and putting me in my place.” He chuckles. Your face reddens, and you stare at him wide-eyed as he runs his knuckles down your jaw, his cool silver ring easing the burning hot you felt beneath your cheek.

“Maybe you should do what you're suppos-“ Eris cuts you off with a tsk tsk tsk, pulling you in close and finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You part your lips, fingers caressing his jaw and threading through his hair as his lips dance with yours. His fingers trail from your cheek down to your waist, holding you close as one hand runs up and down your side; grabbing firmly when your teeth graze his bottom lip. He pulls away, breathless as he supplies you a feline grin.

“Now, where is the fun in that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

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pearlsandpemberly · 7 months

Text

shared breath - levi x reader (18+)

Summary:

Levi's last chance at life allows him to love her the way he's always wanted to.

Genre: Light Smut, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff

POV: Third Person, f!reader

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51501670

Note: This can be read as a follow-up to my other fic 'until then', but can be read on its own.

“Do you need help?”

Levi doesn’t look at her, hands still occupied with his shirt buttons. “I haven’t lost all my fingers now, have I?” is his quiet response.

He hears her walk closer to him and exhales softly through the nose when she places a hand on the back of his neck. “You and I both know you could still kill a man with your eye shut – I also know that you usually undress yourself a lot faster than you’re doing now.”

Levi shrugs a shoulder, hands coming back down to his lap. They are ensnared with the slightest of tremors – a rarity, despite everything his body has endured. He curls his fingers inward, clenching his fists.

She doesn’t move, threading her own fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of her touch still affects Levi as it has always done, the shiver up his spine as prevalent as it was when he first took her hand in his. He tips his head back slightly, leaning into her touch.

“Do it,” he says. “Please.”

“Ah, manners.” She comes around, kneeling in front of his chair. “So easy to forget that you know what they are.”

Levi huffs but finds his words lost when her hands come to finish the job he barely started, the pads of her fingers brushing against the cotton of his white shirt. He looks at her in a simple white nightgown, the small straps of lace kissing both of her collarbones. Her face is illuminated by the warm glow of the candlelight and once again Levi finds his mouth drying up, feeling his heart thud a little faster as she exposes more of his chest. Her expression morphs, a shy smile forming on her lips. As her cheeks darken, Levi’s do too, as he realises she can feel his pulse quickening.

Her movements slow as she comes to the bottom of his shirt and he sees that her hands are slightly unsteady as she pulls the fabric out of the waistband of his trousers. It is something she has done for Levi countless times before, and yet…

The thickness of the air grows as she looks up to him, tilting her head to the side. “I’ll leave you to do the rest,” she says quietly, raising herself off the floor, ready to step back.

Levi takes a hold of her wrist, keeping her in place. “Have I shown you what this new chair can do?”

She shakes her head, smoothing her gown.

Although his hands are still unstable, Levi turns to the side of his chair, pulling at several mechanisms until the left arm disconnects from the chair. He places it down and moves to the right side, repeating the process. When he’s done, Levi looks to her to see her raised eyebrows and intrigued smile.

“Was this Onyakopon’s idea?” she asks.

Levi swallows and takes a hold of her hand again. “It was mine.”

One of her eyebrows raise a little higher. “Yours?”

He nods. “There was something I wanted to be able to do,” he whispers.

She understands without him having to say more, but she waits for him to pull her closer before she straddles Levi, hitching her legs and settling cautiously onto his lap. Her hands find their usual place on his chest and his come to settle on her waist, squeezing her gently.

The warmth of her body stokes the hunger building up within Levi and his hesitation begins to dissipate. Her sweet smile and shining eyes only makes him want more of it, more of her.

She shuffles further up his thighs, skirt bunching up so her own are beginning to show. Her breath fans shakily over Levi’s lips and her eyes flicker down to glance at his bare skin.

He taps her side gently. “Distracted?” he teases, though it comes out a little hoarse.

“Can you judge me?” she responds, looking back up to him.

“I do, only because this is not a new sight for you.”

She flicks his sternum playfully. “I know, I know. I just…”

As her fingers cling onto his shirt, Levi leans in and kisses her.

Although it is another thing that is not new, the flame that ignites within the pair touches them with the same sharpness that it always does. His hands run up her back and shoulder blades, pulling her flush against him, intoxicated and entranced by the beautiful being that he can call his. When she sighs against his mouth, his fingers flex, moving down to grab onto her plush hips, willing her to move just a little – and when she does, Levi lets out his own muffled sound of relief.

Bliss is not easy to come by, despite living in the most peaceful era of his entire life, but whenever she’s with him, he’s a step closer.

The candlelight flickers, the heat builds, and the world blurs as they lose themselves in their own private universe sealed within these four walls. Their sounds become less controlled and their movements become more bold: Levi comes to run his hands up and down her soft thighs, fingers splayed; she tickles the sides of his ribs as she pushes her hips down against his, furrowing her brow with restrained desire. They’re waves in the ocean, pushing and pulling in sync, their emotions ebbing and flowing alongside each other with practised ease; and yet it is unique, somewhat in unchartered waters, and the thrill of anticipation mingles nicely with their shared adoration.

Levi is the first to pull back, though not too far; their eyes meet and it takes all he has not to pull her as close to him as he possibly can. Her pupils are dilated, her cheeks red, her chest heaving, her lips slightly swollen. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and he places a thumb on it, taking a hold of her chin.

“I want to make love to you.”

The hitch of breath that escapes her mouth would have made Levi smile if he weren’t so nervous. He rubs a circle into her upper thigh, only just glancing the skin under where her skirt ends.

“Are you sure?” she asks when she finds her voice, gaze fixed on his good eye.

“I am,” Levi affirms. “Only if you would like to.”

She doesn’t need to think, but she takes pause, scanning his expression. When she comes to hold onto his wrist, Levi notes that her fingers are trembling – she is just as nervous as he is.

After a moment more, she nods. “Yes – please.”

If Levi were still in the state where he could pick her up and take her to the bed, he would do it that instant. However, it’s not going to be that easy, and whilst there’s no rush, he wants it so badly that he can’t quite help the quick swiftness in which he pulls her back towards him, letting out a groan when their kiss deepens almost instantly. Her own desperation shows in how she wraps her arms around his neck, their chests pressed together, a whine trapped in her throat. Their mutual desire becomes more pronounced by the second and Levi wills it not to be over before it’s begun, though it is hard to concentrate on that when she is everywhere.

This time, it is her who breaks away, placing one hand over his heart. “Would you like to move to the bed?” she murmurs, tone tentative but buzzing with eagerness.

Levi nods a little too vigorously, but he is not embarrassed.

Though walking any distance is greatly difficult – and some days next to near impossible – his legs decide to cooperate with him, though he still needs her to help him stand. Her hand holds his tightly, arm bent ready if he needs to support himself further. Together, they move slowly towards the wooden bed; she lets Levi brace himself as they reach the side and he crawls onto the mattress, coming to sit in the centre. She pauses before he tugs on her wrist with playful impatience, patting the space between his legs – she clambers carefully onto the bed, coming to sit in the gap, legs hooked over Levi’s, facing each other again. Levi takes his time admiring her, running his hands along her arms and shoulders, coming to play with one of her nightgown straps.

The couple can communicate through stares alone, but tonight is different. “May I?”

“Yes.”

The lace falls easily from her shoulder, resting halfway down her upper arm. Though it barely exposes anything new, the picture of her naked shoulders connecting to her neck lights something anew within Levi. Carefully, oh so carefully, he pulls her a little closer so he doesn’t have to strain – his lips caress her collarbones with a feather-light touch, grazing her skin gracefully as he listens to her, watching how her head tips back and how her chest rises and falls a little quicker. He can feel her burning underneath the thin material of her nightgown, her body yearning for him and only him.

As he trails up the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses and a delicate bite, she gasps out, hands tugging on this open shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Levi doesn’t reply, instead shrugging the cotton off, lips never leaving her skin. She helps, removing his shirt and pushing it warily onto the floor, though Levi is past the point of caring about it getting dirty or wrinkled. The way her soft hands dance over his chest, shoulders, and abdomen causes his concentration to slip, a noise of want escaping past his teeth.

In slow movements of clothes being removed, broken up by hushed questions and affirmations, Levi lies down naked, any self-consciousness slipping away as she lies next to him as exposed as he is, her gaze still fixed upon his face. A sight that is not unfamiliar but illuminated in a different context only opens Levi up to how he can love and appreciate her in so many different ways, and that privilege almost brings tears to his eyes. Her own are slightly glassy, and she moves his hair away from his face before kissing him again.

Their bodies press together, their hands exploring each other with cautious care as the warmth of the room encases them, the tenderness and sensuality clouding their minds and burning pleasantly under their skin as they come closer together still. An age passes before they find purchase on the most intimate parts of each other, but they’re in no rush – too many things are new in order to rush.

Both of them are trembling as they begin to learn how to make the other come undone – Levi, an Ackerman, always one who can do everything perfectly first try, has to fight off his doubt, concentrating on her alone. Every sound she makes, every furrow of her brow, every twist of her body sears into his memory and he chases that pleasure alone, the pleasure he derives from this sight being his to see, this experience being theirs to share. A sheen of perspiration layers over her skin and it enamours him. She watches him just as closely, smiling against his mouth whenever he grunts or hisses with gratification, whispering words of devotion and praise that travels straight through him and makes his face grow even hotter. When her name tumbles from his lips, she moans and it’s a melody that Levi wants to hear over and over again.

Everything keeps blurring at the edges and blood roars so loudly in Levi’s ears that time escapes him entirely and their actions become instinctual, and their bodies are moving and they’re whispering one more question to each other before his eyes fly open to see her atop of him, nails digging into his chest and eyes screwed shut. He holds onto her hips so tightly that he’s sure it will bruise her, but he can’t stop himself because they’re the closest two humans can possibly be and he might let go, and god he never wants to let her go.

It's slow and careful and hot and messy. The melding of their bodies from their connected lips to their flushed chests to their stirred sexes fall into a somewhat cohesive rhythm together, but neither worry themselves when they fall out of sync. They pant and moan with abandon, their tongues touching as they kiss each other senseless, both lost in the heat and emotion of everything. Levi feels himself slipping closer to a precipice and he wills himself to cling on a little longer, his fingers grabbing hold of any part of her he can find so he can keep himself there.

When she brings him to sit up with her, Levi wraps his arms around her middle and uses all his strength to help her move, leaving messy kisses over her breasts and not caring about how he’s beginning to lose control. Though his exhaustion, he pushes his hips up to meet her and almost falls over the edge when she cries out and tugs on his hair. He keeps it up, trailing a hand up to cup the back of her head, connecting their foreheads together, her gorgeous eyes staring straight back into his. Her name tumbles from Levi’s lips and then it doesn’t stop, the syllables tripping over themselves again and again as they guide each other to the edge of the precipice together.

And the light dulls because nothing shines as brightly as she does – they unravel together, a miniscule supernova exploding between them as they lose their breath in a fleeting moment that now only exists in their memories. All she can do is babble incoherently as she comes apart on top of him, her limbs becoming heavy as their movements slow.

And her name is all Levi can say, a song that is stuck on repeat, a sweet symphony that devolves into a choked refrain as tears stream down his cheeks and his throat seizes up. His lips find hers, and they are wet and sticky, but she doesn’t pull away as she clings to him tighter than before .

They stay like this for a time, catching their breaths and gazing at each other, rooting themselves in the seconds that they never thought they would get to have.

Pain and fatigue begins to weigh Levi down as the high slips away from him, but as always she is aware. She pulls away eventually, albeit reluctantly, and begins to make their space ready for rest, wiping him and then herself with a damp cloth, bringing him clean sleeping clothes, and moving to blow out the candles sans the one on their bedside. All the while, Levi watches her, the smallest smile on his face.

When she climbs into bed next to him, Levi wastes no time in taking her into his arms once more, coming to cup her face and kissing her cheeks one at a time. She chuckles, dipping her head as if she’s shy, and all of the love he holds for her increases tenfold. He tells her so and her cheeks go redder than they’ve done all night, just like they always do when he says it.

“I love you too. So much.”

She falls asleep before he does, just like always, and although Levi has no need to memorise every detail of her lovely face, he still watches her until his eyelids betray him. Only once does he wake up that night, and it’s to the sensation of her placing the gentlest kiss over his blind eye, a gesture so tender that Levi for the first time believes that perhaps when they die and their spirits move on, that they will find each other there again.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot #levi smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x fem!reader #shingeki no kyojin

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ghostofwriting · 27 days

Text

in London: but in my mind I play it back

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Another random drabble idea that popped into my head. This can be read as a stand-alone but it is the same Rafe and Reader as in London: I break done cause you're not around I might continue doing angst drabbles for this and by that I mean I have one other idea rattling inside my brain for this universe.

Not KS related.

Word Count: 914

Summary: Rafe sees her for the first time in years. He learns something that shows him he needs to let go.

He didn’t want to wake up today. Something was telling him to stay in bed a little longer and take his time.

He’s older now, more disciplined. Even on his day off he has to be out of bed and doing something. Today it was going to the grocery store.

He freezes when he sees her in the parking lot as he’s grabbing his reusable bags from the backseat of his truck. Her hair looks freshly cut and styled. The breeze makes her look like she’s just stepped out of a magazine shoot.

She looks older, grown up and just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. His breath is shallow as she turns around with the empty shopping cart ready to put it away.

Their eyes meet for the first time in years. Hers go wide when she notices him.

He didn’t want to wake up today.

“Hey.” He says awkwardly. He’s fidgeting with the straps of the bags in his hand and bouncing from one foot to the other.

“Hi.” She gives him a small wave, her body turned, slightly as she pushes the shopping cart into another one.

“How are you? Been a long time.” He walks closer to her but keeps a good distance between them.

She bods agreeing with his statement, “I’m well! How have you been?”

“Good, yeah, no I’ve been good.” Her body is still halfway turned to him. Showing him that she can’t stay for long.

“You look good.” He has no filter when it comes to her. Wants to be polite and not tell her that he’s still in love with her. That he’ll probably never not be.

“Thank you. You too.” She motions in the direction of her car, opening her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Are you here to see family?” She doesn’t come to the outer banks anymore. No one ever sees her around. She lives in London. That’s all he knows. He thinks back to the days when he knew every little thing about her. The smell of her perfume, how many sugars she took in her coffee, the looks she gave him and the meanings behind every little micro expression. When she loved him.

“Uh-“ she swallows and smiles, “I’m here for my wedding.”

His mouth goes dry. His hands start to shake so he puts them in fists and digs his nails into his palm to stop the pain from spreading into his heart. She stares at him, a soft smile still on her lips. She’s so beautiful he could die right now and be content with it. Seeing her happy would be enough for him even if it’s not directed at him like it used to be.

She’s getting married. The girl he gave a promise ring to in their last year of high school is getting married and it’s not to him. Because he fucked up. Because she stopped looking at him like that the minute he betrayed her. His heart aches. It tells him to do something. To tell her that he loves her, get on his knees, and beg her to run away with him. It screams at him to stop the wedding. To fight one more time and leave a fire in his wake so she has no choice but to follow.

He can’t do that to her. He ruined her one too many times, he’s hurt her enough. She deserves better than him. She deserves to be happy. Deserves someone who didn’t sleep with her best friend. It hurts. It kills him to think this way. He wishes he could be the guy waiting on the other end of the aisle. He isn’t. Not in this life at least. He only has himself to blame.

“Congratulations.” He tells her. His hands still in fists at his side.

“Thank you!” She smiles wider, “It was nice to see you, I should get going.” She goes to turn around again but he can’t let her leave. Not yet.

“Are you happy?” He swallows.

She nods at him, “so happy.” His heart leaps for her once more.

“Good. Yeah, you deserve that.”

“Thank you, Rafe.” He hasn’t heard her say his name without hostility in such a long time. He melts at the sound of it leaving her lips.

He loves her. God does he love her.

And he lost her.

“Bye, Rafe.” She waves.

“Bye.” He whispers to himself, watching her walk away and get into her car.

The next time he sees her, if he sees her, she’ll be married. The woman he loves will be gone.

Anyone who knows him will know that after all these years he was still holding out hope. He thought that one day he would gather enough courage to go find her in London and make her believe him when he told her he had changed. He would fight for her and their love and he would be the one to get down on one knee and ask her for forever.

He dreamed that they would bump into each other at the beach by Tannyhill because she would be drawn there by their memories and he would ask her to come inside and they would start their journey back to each other.

She’s getting married. This weekend she’s getting married.

That alone leaves him empty of all the hopes and dreams.

He lets go.

He didn’t want to wake up today.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks au #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fic

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scarletskiesinthepaths · 2 months

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I can’t get over the fact that seeking out physical mementos of his dead loved ones is something Levi has been doing since he was a young child. He sought out his mom’s tea set because it was the last tangible symbol of the life she lived and the impression he had of her—never wanting to forget her. Levi keeps inside of him the memories of every person he has ever lost.

Levi does the same thing again when he loses his squad in the “Female Titan” arc, and he cuts out Petra’s Scout badge from her uniform. He wanted a physical reminder that they had lived. These physical reminders are signs of who they were when they were still alive. To Levi, everyone deserves to be remembered as such. There’s such tragic selflessness in Levi, though, that he willingly gives up that last memento of Petra to help alleviate the grief of Dieter, who had just finished accusing Levi of being “devoid of humanity” and then endangered all of them in an attempt to retrieve the body of his dead comrade. Levi consistently forgoes his own needs to help others.

That same tragic selflessness is present in Levi in “Bad Boy” because Levi was ready to die in order to preserve that last impression he had of his mom, the one good thing he ever had. Let that sink in. Levi didn’t even fully remember his mom, but the mere impression of her was the one good thing he had. That says volumes about the suffering Levi must have experienced in his short life up until that moment. He truly does not see any worth in himself or in his own life. He actively endangered himself in “Bad Boy” because of this. He was suicidal.

And yet, Levi values the lives of others beyond anyone else. He seeks to give their deaths meaning. All this, despite seeing no greater value in himself beyond his ability to help people. Levi sees others’ lives as inherently valuable, but not his own.

It is significant to note that Levi’s powers awakened from a desire to protect. It wasn’t until the men attacking him in “Bad Boy” spoke horrific things about his mother that Levi fought back with the intention to protect his mom’s image. It was that moment in which he awakened.

The trauma of going into a situation fully expecting to die and then coming out of it having murdered multiple men is immeasurable. Levi never wanted this life of violence, as evidenced by the fact Levi peacefully asked multiple times for these men to give him an item that was rightfully his in the first place. Then, this bastard with the glasses later attempts to carve into Levi the idea that Levi’s own mother would be disappointed in him and hate him for having defended himself—when the only reason Levi even fought back was to protect her image. The tea cup breaking at the end acted as a metaphor that Levi had sullied his own image in the eyes of his mother, reinforced by the likely fact that it was his newly awakened strength that broke the handle—Levi views himself as the problem. The title “Bad Boy” is in reference to Levi’s perception of himself as a bad boy.

It is clear to me that the only thing that motivated Levi to live after all this was the idea that he could possibly do something good with his newfound strength—even though he viewed it as a monstrosity within him, being the cause of him destroying the last memory of his mother and resulting in him killing multiple men (likely for the first time). His newfound strength was also associated with leading directly to Kenny abandoning him. As such, there is no other reason Levi would have wanted to keep living otherwise. All of this speaks to an innate goodness in Levi. His selflessness is both his greatest flaw and his greatest strength.

#levi ackerman #aot bad boy #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot.meta #meta.levi #c: levi ackerman #my thoughts #aot meta #snk meta #levi ackerman meta #attack on titan meta #shingeki no kyojin meta #bad boy

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iceinwhb · 1 month

Text

Dark headcanon

﹅ contains; what in hell is bad, sensitive content, nsfw, explicit content, foul language, explicit lenguage, female Mc.

﹅ warnings; Dark headcannon, insane descrptions, unhealthy relationships, the softest is at the top.

He no longer had any idea how long it had been since he had last properly killed an angel. Perhaps too long to remember how to avoid instant death on the first hit.

Another army of wounded angels came out of their territory, weary from the constant fighting that hadn't changed for years.

Solomon's descendant no longer participated in the war, nor did he allow her to use any special skill. She only stayed in hell so as not to break the guidelines that bound her to him.

And it worked well for a while, until she became suspicious of the strange movements, and eventually, she realized what was going on.

He tried to hide it, but it wasn't long before she realized his intentions.

He still wanted to believe that if she spent more time in hell, maybe just a little longer, would learn to love it and stay. But the betrayal in her eyes, the feeling of him having cheated on her was still there.

She never said anything, and the more time passed, less she liked Gehenna. He couldn't follow her either, or even claim her because he himself condemned her, every day, to delay what might be inevitable.

But this time, at least that day, she had not avoided him. Her eyes did not leave him as he moved deeper into the room where he had taken refuge, so as not to feel that he was losing her.

“Let me go.” Her determination formed quickly, as he approached. “I want you to take me back to Earth. Reverse the deal right now.”

His brow furrowed, not only at the order, but at the strange feeling that plagued his chest.

“Hell…”

“It's your fault, not mine that the deal hasn't yet…!”

“If you can't deliver it, then you shouldn't have made a deal.” He tried to convince himself that this was the right thing to do, even if was wrong. “Or you're going to lie, and tell me you don't enjoy this place…”

“What the hell is there on earth that you can't have here!” He finally reached out, and touched her, not allowing her to move further away. “I saved you from dying back there, you can still die if you come back! You know exactly what you promised.”

“What I promised ended when you did what you wanted, you don't care about anything else!”

“Then go and ask any demon you find if he wants to help you. Go again, scour hell looking for just one…!”

The resounding smack on his cheek stung, especially since it was full of rage.

“Shut up!” he stepped back a few inches, trying to process the kind of feeling that was rapidly evolving, and looked at her again.

The silence was long, more tense than it had ever been, but no words could fix the mistake.

“Whatever you do, you're not coming back” He closed his mouth tightly and gritted his teeth, not knowing exactly what to hide, but already fury was beginning to rise in his brain, as the tingling in his hands began to rise. “At least I thought it would be different.”

“Don't you dare…”

“He and his lineage is always the same…” He held her again, unaware of how much the pressure of his touch had increased, as he threw her onto the bed. His body trembled as the high-pitched whine entered his ears. “But there will be no one who can take you.”

“Son of…” He held both cheeks with one hand, clenching her jaw tightly, the energy of fury continuing.

“Try it. Leave this fucking room and you'll see.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't stay.”

It was the first thing she did, politely, as she turned down the marriage proposal. She wasn't able to remember how many times considered Mammon's feelings after that.

In truth, she did nothing more than take care not to be rude, as her purpose in hell came to an end. She was more relieved to finally be able to come out to earth again, and feel like had a normal life, that even the excitement was more visible than could have imagined.

Didn't care that hell was safer, not quiet either, or that it could give her anything in return, after all, she was aware that once got out. She wouldn't remember anything.

Didn't want to be like Solomon, looking for a place in the heart of the demons because knew that wasn't her place. The reflection, as walked down the hallway of Satan's palace, ended.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the figure, too large not to quickly identify. The clear eyes, with a hue as beautiful as gold shone in a different way than she knew, especially as the silence continued.

“What are you doing here?” she hugged herself, as walked in the direction of the greed demon, without a fear in the least. Eyes felt intense as it followed her, and immediately, the decompensation of familiarity when not greeted by a habitual smile appealed to her senses.

“You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?” she laughed, as excitement rose in her head again.

“Yes, that's why I couldn't sleep and thought it was a better option… To have some peace, but if you're here…” She looked around, especially to the sides and frowned slightly, forgetting what was about to say. “Just…”

“Can we walk together?” She nodded absently.

“That's what I was going to do anyway.”

“Aren't you too happy?” Mammon seemed to notice the strangeness she felt at every turn, but the question only made the atmosphere more uncomfortable. Discomfort pounded in her brain, making her aware of the bad feeling that slowly clung to her flesh.

“I don't…”

“You know you're going to forget hell, and all the demons in it when you get back.”

“I thought they were all aware that I wasn't going to… I didn't do anything to make them think more of me, either.” She looked up, leaning closer to Mammon, but was unable to look him. “I never coveted a place in anyone's heart, and I never wanted to hurt yours either.”

“I always told you I'd give you anything you asked for.” Long fingers covered her wrist, gripping her hand tightly. “And I'm willing to give you anything as long as you stay.”

Her only response, at least quickly, was easy to get out of her mouth, with a clear denial that there was nothing better than hell.

That was the worst mistake she could made.

Tried to remove his hand a few seconds later, but failed to move his hand at all.

The last thing she remembered hearing was Mammon's deep voice, with a completely different tone to the assurance he exuded.

“I can't… forget you.”

It was dragging, full of feelings she couldn't understand. But she didn't need to because his thoughtfulness was extinguished when she suddenly lost consciousness and woke up in that place.

A year ago.

And every day she could clearly remember every movement, every gesture. The difference from what Mammon was, to the demon of greed who only looked at her from the other side of the room.

Like at that moment, where the clear, golden eyes were brutally digging into her skin, burning her nerves and digging a deeper and deeper emptiness, to the point that she could even feel cold.

She tried to understand it every time Mammon spent hours watching her, where she had gone wrong, or if from the beginning her fate had already been written by the demon who rose from his desk, with the slowness of a predator about to hunt, until he touched the barrier that separated them.

The hand was not on her skin, but she could feel the need it gave off, the desire to touch her again, and play as if her body was that of a doll for the enjoyment of whatever needs Mammon might have.

A soft smile rose to his lips, and his cheek hit the material of gold and diamond cage. He dared to savor the minutes as fingers slowly opened the door.

“Don't you think it's time for a bath? I'll buy prettier dresses today than last time, and change your place, sweet master.”

Her lips trembled, in sadness, but she made no visible grimace, for no matter how hard she tried, was unable to move the crystalline diamond because of how heavy it was, and also to escape because the hands were too strong to hold her, like a leash that would take her for all eternity if possible.

And at that point, when he carefully held her waist, she was already resigned to being an object that she hoped, would be discarded as soon as possible.

Beelzebub's eyes were lost in the flickering spotlight, with a dull light, and the humid atmosphere only increased the rapidity of his breathing, as his nose sank into the wet panties. The smell of semen and female cum was so thick it made him dizzy.

It was an addictive drug that he could not stop consuming more and more, more and more hours of his day until he completely stopped moving, the bittersweet smell, the salty taste of sweat, and the moans made him lose the thread of coherence that he didn't know when he had lost, or for how long.

Only rolled his eyes, drenched in lust as he looked at the body of the descendant of a man he had forgotten. Tears steadily filled her eyes, as the moans were muffled by the cock that was penetrating the back of her throat with desperation, while pussy and ass were filled by others.

The scene made him move his attention to the semen-filled bosoms, the same that also marked the panties and cheeks, full of deep bites and saliva his. He didn't need to get lost from sight because another copy, took it upon herself to lick the red, sore, and quivering peaks.

His copy's fingers moved to her pelvis, and deftly advanced on her clitoris, before his eyes connected with it, and with a mischievous grin, the Beelzebub overstimulating her parts, opened her lower lips. The copy of his cock was crushing harder on the small body, to the point of making her squirm and almost scream.

He moaned, raw, as his hand pumped the erection harder than he should have applied. He felt suffocated, and at the same time, ecstatic in madness and pleasure.

Came down from the cloud of pleasure as the precious semen was held between his fingers, and his eyes came back into view, where his copy had already cum in his mouth, burying it to the full.

They all came out at the same time, leaving a long line of white semen, with no space to stain when he finally stood up. He held her neck carefully, and swallowed her tongue, the taste so exquisite that he just clicked his teeth together again.

She screamed, but he kept stifling the sound as the blood touched the roof of his mouth. And when she pulled away, his nose followed the line of his neck, perversely enjoying the smell.

She was the king of gluttony's whore. He could smell it in every pore of her skin, so deeply that it stained even her soul.

“You smell soo good…” Too good to want to eat her in one bite, too good to want all hell to notice how much she'd taken and how very much his she felt.

He bit into the skin again, making her scream again, but even the sound impoverished his ability to reason, and heightened the mammoth pleasure. The piece of skin he had torn from the soft skin made him shiver. The softness in each bite, the sensation that scraped warmly across his throat.

It was a taste he had never tasted before. Beyond anything he could have tasted. He sighed, almost cumming again as the whisper burned in his ears, his name, in the bulging mouth that did nothing but tantalizes him, every bite until there was nothing left.

“Please, Beel.” He brought his eyes to the sound, and his mind paused for a moment. The lips were bruised, red, hot, bleeding.

The tears wouldn't stop flowing, and her body barely had the strength to move. She was so adorable that made him laugh, as he held her wrists tighter and his gaze bored into the dark, tired, on the verge of fainting eyes.

“Should I eat you now?” Her eyebrows furrowed, blood continued to drip, staining the white red, and her consciousness slowly faded. He smiled, as he ran his lips over her wrist. “Unless you finally choose to stay. By my side.”

She didn't speak. The silence became so grotesquely awkward, for seconds before another bitter laugh hit his throat.

His chest wouldn't stop pounding, and the shape of his body was becoming less easy to hold as remembered why they were in that place.

They had gone through Abyssos. Passing time as usual, until her excitement slowly faded and she began to want to go back somewhere else, desperate to get away and leave him abandoned.

He returned to his reason, got control of his body and breathed hard.

“Then eat and fill yourself with my cock until you agree. And if you deny it again…” He held her chin, to make her look him in the eyes, but her eyelids fell slower, even disoriented. “I will eat you.”

“Come to Paradise Lost, one last time” She never denied him the opportunity.

He only acted out of condescension, because his conscience was pounding with despair at the thought of losing another loved one, and being forgotten as if he were nothing.

That was the decline of the last drop of patience he could have. He wanted to respect her decision, but the dark thought that she, in particular, did not want to stay was stronger.

And then, once he managed to have her one day, to give her up, but he did not succeed. They walked together, talked, laughed, even the tender moments became a burden and finally, before sunset they ended up in the greenhouse. He offered her a last cup of tea and they continued together as if nothing would happen afterward, as if it was just another day, where he could see her later.

And when she stood up, slightly dismayed, she finally looked him straight in the eye. For a moment, there was clear hesitation, but instead, she reached over and hugged him.

There was a small farewell, the size of a sigh. She touched his face, held his cheeks, and said words he could not have forgotten, “I am grateful to have known you, and I would only like to stay. But this is goodbye, and I hope it won't be the last.”

“You can't go.”

The minutes went on in silence and continued for twenty after his first words were not a simple acceptance.

“I have to go, Luci.”

“I'm not letting you go.” Surprise came over her, slowly, obfuscating his chest, but it was no greater than the sense of loss that kept dripping out, unsteadily, and almost choking him, as he clung to the hands that were still on him.

“Lucifer.” She swallowed saliva, then looked at the door, thinking of a possibility he had already completely abandoned. He tried to stop her, but she only took a step back, avoiding him, wrenching the resignation from holding her even without knowing what would happen.

“You're going to die if you walk through that door.”

The silence continued, before she sat back in the chair, almost laughing, incredulous at what was happening.

“You're not going to keep me here forever. You know that.”

But even if she was sure of it, she wasn't aware of what it meant forever. But that didn't matter after a while, nor did the certainty of an eternity.

He was barely able to leave the room because each time, he found something different, with the same ending, before Gamigin fixed it again and again.

At first, he could understand the urgency to remain vigilant, and eventually, stopped weighing too deeply, because he was by her side, after all she would always live, no matter how many times tried to kill herself, like in that moment, where she was scratching hard at his throat, looking to cut it for having tried to disobey his words again.

He stopped her fingers, lowering them, and momentarily removed the restraint. She finally drew in a sharp intake of breath, coming back to herself. She moved her hands quickly, trying to pull away before salty tears filled her cheeks and came with a loud sob.

Lucifer moved his hands to her cheeks, as she finally seemed to give in and lick gently at the wetness, savoring the salty taste, then sucked hard, longing for the sensation, taking his full attention.

“Stop it, just let me go…” He brought her tongue to his mouth, and tangled his tongue with the other, which was trying to hide, and the tears continued to enter his palate, relentlessly.

The human body was too weak to resist, even when she tried and finally manipulated it to his liking, even touched hard, to the point of leaving nail marks on the soft, warm skin.

But it was not enough.

He grabbed her neck and pulled her towards the wall, the sound was dry, he repositioned the barrier, and his teeth dug into the flesh, mercilessly, as he removed the clothing, ignoring even the struggling that went on constantly, not giving up even when he tore the blood-filled shirt.

Before his eyes, there were only marks of the countless bites that sank into the skin, each time he made her own. There was no longer any place without scars. Even the fingers, hands, and thighs that struggled to flee from his grasp were marked as his.

Though at that moment she was not yet ready to stay, she would slowly realize that the only one she needed by her side was him, for he would not let her see and touch others.

“The only thing you have now is me.” Blunt teeth bit into his shoulder, as nails dug into the wound in his bleeding wings. “The only place you belong is these four walls.”

The little grunt of discord entered his ears, but it was useless when she continued to cry, without stopping, to the point of shaking off his need. The hand he still had available rose to the nape of her neck, and again, he licked away the tears, for he was unable to let her go.

“Only me, descendant of Adam.”

⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧

I dance to you so that it is not obvious that Leviathan is missing here, but don't worry. I'll write it later.

On the other hand… I don't know about you, but they are still very soft cuties (I also don't want to stress that I censure it too much, because yes, you can imagine how they ended with their own mc).

Aaaaaaaaaand… I think when I'm really fucked, sleep deprived and hundreds of wanting to sleep, I don't check well the coherence of the sentences, which is who, and for you guys it must have been a fucking shitty thing to read it, LMAO. I promise to check that for you guys, and even “render” my headcannons. For your health, and mine.

But right now, if I got something wrong, many apologies, (I love very, very, very much the beautiful people who did help me in the last poll. I need you guys too much, I will never leave you. <3).

Although… (I am a poll addict)

#whb #what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#pretty busy #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb mc #whb mc x kings #Don't ask me where is Min

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