maenomia

[dropsnectar]

Courting a Queen: Bee Hybrids x Reader

I’m really into @bunnis-monsters Bee Hybrid universe. While reading, I always wondered how they managed to lure the Queen into their hive in the first place, considering they are human and all. This is inspired by that.

You had been perusing the stalls at the farmers market when you, distracted by a couple with a cute dog, ran him over. The tumble wasn’t too bad, as you had landed on something soft and fluffy; Only, that soft and fluffy thing happened to be a person. 

You started cursing and apologizing profusely when you noticed he wasn’t entirely human. A plush soft face, huge adorable eyes, and two fuzzy antennas popping out of a bunch of curly hair alerted to you that he was a bug hybrid of some kind. His features were delicate, as was his thin frame. Tufts of blonde and black spilled out of the collar of his shirt, and you could see a pair of beautiful round wings behind him, sparkling in the sunlight.

You’d repeat your apology at him, as you realized you had been staring for too long. His expression, at first shocked, morphed into a big, exquisite smile. He looked positively glowing, and shook with excitement as he stared at you. He reassured you he was alright and gave you a reassuring pat on the back, hands soft. 

You couldn’t help but note that he smelled amazingly sweet. It was an addictive sort of smell, and you had to force yourself to focus back on those incredibly big eyes. It seemed he had asked you a question, your name and what you were up to. His voice had a vibrating texture to it, but the tone was innocent enough so you were at ease. You mentioned that you had been shopping for groceries, and the two of you kept the conversation going. You suggested a stroll around the market as you did so. 

You normally had a hard time talking with strangers but there was something about him that put you at ease. He was a cheerful conversationalist, revealing that he was a bee hybrid. It wasn’t often that bee hybrids came out to this area, and he had been traveling a while, going out to get special supplies for his hive. 

He asked you questions about yourself too, most of which you answered honestly. You normally weren’t so open with strangers, but this man(bee?) was so gentle and puppylike, you didn’t feel on alert at all. The whole time you talked, he listened so intensely, his limbs vibrating with excitement as he gave you a huge dazzling smile. You couldn’t help but feel affection flood your heart every time he tilted his head at you. At some point, when you couldn’t remember, he had softly grabbed hold of your arm, face leaning close as you both batted questions back and forth. You kept going until people started packing up their stalls. 

When he noticed, he stuck out his bottom lip, and clung even closer to you. It seemed he had become attached, as he asked if he could see you again. You agreed to meet up with him again the next morning, and his drooping antennas bounced back up, his wings buzzing excitedly. He flew off, his whole body alight with glee, awaiting tomorrow.

 You smiled, a warmth blooming in your stomach as you thought of how cute he had been. You tried not to linger on the feeling of his breath on your face from earlier. It seemed that bee hybrids had a different idea about what personal space was, but he was harmless. What hurt could happen from seeing him again? He’d batted his eyes at you so innocently after all. 

You went home that night, not realizing it was one of the last nights you would spend alone in a long time.

***

You found your new friend again, next to the stall selling apples. This time, however, it looked like he brought some friends, as two other bee hybrids accompanied him. The wind whipped past you and all three of them turned, seeming to notice your presence. 

Elias, the bee you had met with yesterday, gave you a running hug. You laughed as he did so, charmed by his exuberance at seeing you. A rumbling purr seemed to be filling his chest, and you met his huge adoring eyes with your own smile. Without pulling away from you, he introduced his two friends, fellow drones who had wished to meet you upon hearing him abuzz about you all night. Much like Elias, they also had thin, delicate features, and moved with a certain inhuman grace. You smiled at them, and introduced yourself shyly. 

The other bee-men were also extremely friendly, leading you through the market by the hand as they told you about their jobs in the hive. You learned what a normal day looked like for them and you marveled at their stories. One of the drones, slightly taller than the rest, but just as gorgeous, talked of once when he had been forced to defend the hive from a wasp invasion. Apparently their hive had been enemies with the wasps for some time. You were learning so much about these three, beautiful and interesting creatures that it took a minute to notice that your casual stroll through the market had brought you to the neighboring forest.

You suddenly became aware that you were alone with three bee-men, in a place where no one could hear you scream. 

They must have seen the fear on your face because their own eyes grew full of concern and panic. Elias was the first to sooth you, running his soft hands up and down your arm, asking what was wrong. Another was at your shoulder drawing calming circles and humming a soothing tune as Elias babbled at your rising panic. The other drone  was in front of you, glancing around to see if there was anything that caught your attention, putting you in this state.

You suddenly felt very silly. These bee-man had been nothing but friendly and doting of you. There was no way you were in danger, right? You looked once again, at their round worried faces and took a deep, grounding breath. You explained that you had just been a bit anxious being out of the sun, and perhaps you could all go back to the market and talk?

If Elias had had eyebrows they would have furrowed. The other drones looked like puppies who'd just been kicked. Had they said something wrong? Had it been them who made you nervous? There was a slew of apologies. The drone with black curly hair looked so pained that he hovered meekly, wings fluttering in an agitated rhythm.

You tried your best to cheer them up but they couldn’t be consoled. Thinking quickly, you told them you were curious what their honey tasted like, would they bring you some?

Suddenly, all three of the drones stilled, faces frozen. Quickly, the silence turned into loud excited buzzing from all three of them. There was jumping, elation, even triumph on some of their faces.

“Of course, you can have some of our honey!” Squealed Elias. “Let us take you to it!” 

You were then hastily grabbed by the waist and princess-carried up into the air with a burst. You screeched at the suddenness but the harsh air rushing towards you squashed all noise in your throat.

You hadn’t realized such thin lithe bodies could hold all of your weight, let alone fly you through the air at such a speed. You tried to protest and pull on Elias’ shirt to get his attention but he only smiled dumbly at you, nuzzling your neck as you shot through the air. You couldn’t quite hear his purring over the rushing wind, but you felt his pur vibrate through the skin of your neck.

When you landed, it was at a place in the middle of the forest. A large structure, probably the hive lay out, unseeingly large and wide before then. Just as Eliases feet touched the ground, your body was suddenly taken out of Elias’ arms by the two other drones. Your arms were enveloped by their grasp and their big eyes stared at you, filled with adoration and expectation.

They rushed you towards what must have been the opening of the hive, guarded by quite a few other drones. They were MUCH taller than Elias and his company, more burly and muscled. When you met their eyes, the guards hovered and buzzed with excitement. A few even twirled around in circles, bumping into the walls. You thought it strange for guards to be excited about a stranger, but you didn’t have time as the bee-men you'd befriended pushed you past quickly. The smallest drone, the one on your right, went on in a singsong tone about the quality of their honey. “You’ll just love it! We work so hard, you know. We promise you won't be disappointed!” 

The architecture of the hive was strange. There were large twisting tunnels, but the roof itself seemed to glow softly, as if the sun itself had blanketed the ceiling in soft light. 

You tried to slow down your companions, explaining that they must have misunderstood you, you hadn’t meant to go anywhere, but they didn’t listen, just chirp excitedly as they dragged you through the halls. Even still, their grip was so soft on your arms, you knew you could break free if you truly wished. They must be just so over excited to show you their home and their honey. It was their life’s work, so it only made sense, right?

It seemed you had finally reached the destination you desired. It was a bright room with a large couch-like structure, adorned in blankets and pillows. They buzzed with glee and sat you down there. Elias pulled aside a passing bee hybrid, asking for some of their best honey. They met my eyes and buzzed gleefully, before bumbling off. 

You tried your best to remind yourself to be upset. You had basically been kidnapped! But every being you met seemed so adorable and pleased to see you, you just couldn’t help being mad. There must not be any danger here right? After all, bees were very soft and friendly creatures. It wasn’t like you’d been lured into the lair of a wolf hybrid or some predator right? You were safe right?

“Oh no, please don’t be scared, we’ll protect you!” whined Haven, the smaller of the drones. He leaned forward and nuzzled your cheek, tracing soothing circles on your arm. The other drone grasped your hand and brought it to his lips. “Please don’t be upset. We will take good care of you. The best care.” He also leaned forward and started to kiss your other cheek a few times, one reaching the corner of your eyes. It seems they had started to water. 

Elias flew from the door over to your legs. He slowly laid his head on your lap and rubbed the skin he could reach in comfort. You realized your chest was shaking. You were starting to get a bit overwhelmed. Each of the drones started to purr, shushing you and calming you in any way they could. They caressed your hair, they stroked your fingers, they readjusted you on the couch so they could get a better hold of you. Haven sat behind you and messaged your shoulders, while Elias took off your shoes and started on your feet. The other drone was using his own, long and delicate thumbs? Probelike hand-limbs to massage your palms. You slowly started to relax a bit.

They were so attentive and thorough, it was almost like they could feel where you were tense. “How are you able to do that? It's like youre reading my mind or something.”

There was a laugh from them. “Not your mind silly, your pheromones”, Haven's matter of fact tone chilled you.

 “Ph-Pheromones? Like, you can smell my emotions?” 

There was a satisfied chirp from Elias. You almost groaned in pleasure as he messaged a particularly tight spot down your heel. “Our new Queen is so smart. Yes, the whole hive can smell when you're in distress or sad. Or happy. We will always make sure to make you happy.” The three of them made a trilling sound together. It must have been their way of agreement. 

Your face flushed, and a heat spread through you. Queen? You should have been horrified, but a part of you grew excited. You lower part of you. A stupid, lower part of you.

“I-I can’t be queen! I’m not a Bee Hybrid like you! I’m Human!”

“A perfect human. You smell just like a perfect Queen! You will take our eggs so well.” The drone with dark hair moved forward, humming excitedly. He started to drag his long, textured tongue up your neck. You shivered and had to stifle a moan.

“We’ve been without a Queen for too long! You're just perfect! You act and smell so sweet, you'll make an excellent mother! Don’t be nervous, okay?” Haven’s grip on your shoulder loosened as he started to nibble your ear. Your lashes fluttered and your breath quickened, coming out in labored gulps. 

“We will all take care of you so well, you won’t ever wish for a thing. So just relax alright?” Purred Elias as he got up from the floor. His black fingers traced the waistband of your leggings. Your mind was so fuzzy from all the sensation you couldn’t do anything but swallow.

All three of your friendly bee-man keened with glee as you relaxed under them. They were going to make sure their Queen was utterly spoiled. 

After all, that was their job, and joy. 

***

Part Two

I hoped you liked it. Bunnis-Monsters described the first batch of bee hybrid suitors as feminine in order to ease the Queen into her *ahem* role. At first I was imagining these siren like creatures, softly seducing their Queen, but... they are bees. They are incredibly bumbling and cute. I hc that these first bees are the more verbally talented of the bunch, best to seduce their Queen into staying with them. Should I finish this with a part two for smut? Anyways, thanks for reading!

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part II

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, angst angst angst, mention of past trauma, expletives, pregnancy, contractions, heavily described labour, blood, mild physical violence, reader is really going through it, ralak is too but he'll be alright i promise, brother!neteyam makes a star appearance, cute family fluff, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 6.5k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hope you're enjoying your tour in angst town...we're almost finished. You could say we're nearing the final attraction, so continue to keep your seatbelts buckled. lol why am i like this? anyways... please don't hate me for this chapter, and i will try my best to get the next one out quicker so you guys can get some closure lool :)

Synopsis: You didn't plan for things to turn out this way. But no amount of denial can make reality go away...

<- Previous -> Next

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished.  His karyu.

Time chips by at a torturous pace. You spend the first hour sitting on the beach, eating some fruit whilst watching what your brothers get up to. Neteyam, of course, is bearing most of the responsibility whilst Lo’ak and Tuk are taking a more easy approach to the day. Mom and dad made sure to leave them with a list of things to get done whilst they’re away—number one being to keep an eye on their sisters. 

Number one, check. 

All that floods your mind is your mate and if he’s okay. You try to process everything he’s said but it’s all too much to wrap your head around. All too new. Your brothers aren’t much help either, as they claim to be ‘out the loop’ as much as you are. You know it's bullshit, and probably just another thing that they’ve been ordered to keep from you so as not to ‘stress you out’. 

Regardless, it’s all you can think about. 

Until you feel your son do a flip in your womb, big enough to make you gasp. Your hands immediately fly to your belly, feeling around to gauge his position. A pressure begins to grow against your bladder. One so intense it presses into your tailbone too. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin, tapping around as you make out a leg, then a knee. A hand to the left. 

Is he…head down? You think to yourself. 

“Everything alright?” Neteyam asks, concern wrinkling his forehead.  

“Hm?” You look up, seeing the outline of his silhouette in front of the sun. 

“You okay? You’re…you look a little—”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. He’s moving a lot today.” You smile, catching Tuk excitedly running over in the corner of your eye. 

“Really? Can I feel? Please?” She squeals excitedly, falling to her knees in the sand next to you. 

“Of course, Tuk.” You smile, and place her hand on top of your stomach, right where his foot is. Only a few seconds pass by until your son gives Tuk a strong kick, making her mouth open with glee. 

“Wow! Tey, you gotta feel this!” Tuk exclaims, tugging your brother by the hand so he’s next to you too. Neteyam looks at you, unsure if you’re okay with it. You nod with a gentle smile, tugging his hand over to the other side of your stomach. His hand hovers as he hesitates for a moment, this is his first time feeling his nephew move. He gives you a final look, and gently rests his hand on your belly

A few moments pass and nothing. 

“Aww, he stopped moving.” Tuk sighs with a pout. 

“Patience, Tuk.” You whisper, feeling him kick on cue. Her face lights up with a beaming smile and Neteyam seems to be in awe with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. 

“Woah, y/n. Your tummy’s getting hard.” Tuk says innocently, looking at her brother to see if he feels it too. 

“Hm?” You hum, feeling a bit spaced out and achy.   

“It is.” Neteyam lets go and keeps his hands to himself, feeling like he’s invading your personal space. A heat floods your back, and you feel your thighs spasm. You begin to groan, holding your breath until the strange feeling subsides. “Hey. You okay?” 

You nod, finally release your breath, and hear Tuk’s excited voice. “It’s all soft now!” 

“All good.” You smile, but Neteyam doesn’t seem convinced at all. “Ronal says they are normal. They aren’t the real thing. Mom had them with Tuk, remember?” 

Neteyams' features soften as he nods, prying his little sister's hands off of you. “Ease up now, Tuk.” 

“Sorry, sis.” She says quietly, ears laying flat to her head. 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” You say as you roll to your side to get up, shamelessly using Neteyam to gain some momentum. “Think it’s time for me to take a walk, though.” 

“Yes, sure. Where are we going?” Neteyam asks, ready to accompany you anywhere.

“I’m going down to the rocks.” You emphasise on the first word, making it clear you need some alone time after being babysat all day. “I think Lo’ak needs some help with the net.”

Neteyam and Tuk look over to see their brother struggling with a tangled fishing net, and turn back to see that you’re already waddling down the beach. 

——

Suddenly, Ralak’s back inside of his family marui pod on his iknimaya night. Trapped. Small. Powerless. Cornered by a person he once looked up to. A person he trusted. Manipulated by her heat— her pheromones. A crime punishable by banishment. Forced to give, forced to receive. A betrayal he’ll never forget. A face he swore to himself that he would never see again. 

No wonder they ‘demanded’ his presence.

Tonowari and Ronal lose their colour when their eyes land on her. It’s been so many years. They quickly look over to Ralak, who is seemingly falling to pieces where he stands. The expression on his face is no short of pure shock and… terror. Truthfully, the last time they’d seen such an expression on his face was the deaths of his parents and spirit brother. Jake and Neytiri aren’t aware of what’s going on, but they know it must be serious for Ralak to be so…expressive. 

They can even see his shoulders heave from how hard he’s breathing, and how his face of terror quickly morphs into something of fury. Tonowari notices the way he tightens his grip on his weapon, and his eyes as they gloss over red with rage. It takes a lot to make this man blind with anger. Tonowari knows if he doesn't step in now that this could turn sour in the blink of an eye. 

——

Two.

Releasing a shaky exhale, you begin your walk back to your siblings. That was the second ‘practice’ contraction you’ve had since starting your walk, and your third since coming here with your brothers. Your waddle is becoming more sluggish with each step and the fire in your back is beginning to burn hotter rather than fade out. 

“Not now, little one.” You whisper as you caress your bump. “…please.” 

Weariness sets in as you make it halfway back, making you perch on your knees to take a break. The fire spreads from your back to your thighs, and up your stomach. You brace yourself for the tight feeling, holding your breath in the base of your chest. You grumble a little, swaying side to side until it passes, which thankfully doesn’t take more than a few seconds. 

Three.

Finally making it back to the beach, you see Neteyam and Lo’ak hauling a few sacks on their backs, with Tuk skipping behind them. You overhear Lo’ak trying to convince Neteyam to let him be with the other warriors, and Neteyam reminding him of your parents orders. They stop mid sentence when they hear your heavy, muffled footsteps, taking one look at you and knowing that something isn’t right. Lo’ak in particular, to your surprise. 

“Damn. You look exhausted.” Lo’ak says, earning a jab in the rib by Neteyams elbow. “What? She looks like she’s about to pass out.” 

“You can’t say that to a pregnant woman, skxawng [idiot].” Neteyam hisses.

“It’s fine. He’s not wrong.” You say, tail dragging low and heavy behind you. Ralak still clouds your mind, and you’re eager to know if he’s back yet. “I want to go home now. I really need to lie down.” 

Neteyam just nods, understanding that something deeper is going on. “I will take you.” 

“I got it, bro.” Lo’ak interjects, plunking the sack off his back and onto the ground.  

“Stay with Tuk.” Neteyam orders, clicking for his skimwing. 

“Why don’t you stay with Tuk?” Lo’ak snaps back. 

“Guys. Please?” You sigh, waddling towards the winged beast, throwing a leg over its tough back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Come ‘teyam.” Neteyam smirks, making the bond with the beast and mounting it in one swift move. 

As you arrive at your marui, you see Zu’té at the outside fire pit, concentrating on not burning yet another type of meat-on-a-stick. Hearing your arrival, Zu’té turns and acknowledges your presence. He puts down the sizzling meat on a leaf, allowing the fire to continue to burn as he begins to make his way over to collect you. Neteyam and him exchange glances and silent greetings, and suddenly the air is thick. 

“Right…I’m going up. Thank you, tey. See you.” You say out of breath, giving him a quick hug.

“Let me—” Neteyam begins.

“No, I’m okay.” You cut off your brother, hualing yourself off the tsurak. 

“Right. Kìyevame [see you again soon]. If you need me, send your watchdog.” He speaks clearly, holding you by the wrist to steady you as you get off. 

“I will, tey.” You chuckle lightly and make your way to the marui. Neteyam waits patiently, making sure you get in safely. 

Zu’té is only half way there when you reach the bottom step, already offering his arm for the stairs. You sigh and shake your head, hurriedly climbing the stairs as fast as your swollen ankles will allow it. For some reason, his gesture really annoys you. Your mood is off and you feel queasy and achy—like your entire body is throbbing. 

All you want is for everyone around you to stop babying you, and let you be alone for the rest of the day. 

“I got it.” Your voice strains as you wobble ahead, leaving Zu’té and your brother behind. Neteyam remains silent for some time, locking eyes with Zu’té. 

‘Keep a close eye.’ Neteyam signs with disquiet wrinkling his forehead. Zu’té gives him a puzzled look at first, but slowly nods when he successfully deciphers the message. Neteyam nods as well and dives underwater. 

By the time Zu’té gets to the bottom step, you’re already at the top, clutching onto the railing as you lean forward in pain. You couldn’t even make it into the pod without another hitting you so soon. You take a few deep breaths rather than holding it in, waiting until the tight feeling subsides. 

Four.

Zu’té darts up the stairs to your side, offering a hand in support only to be swatted away. “What is it?”

“It is nothing.” You catch your breath and insist that it was nothing—because it was nothing, right?

His brows furrow in disbelief, a look of concern washing over his face. Zu’té allows his eyes to fall to your bulging, veiny belly for the first time, taking in the sight. “You were in pain.”

“I’m fine.” You’re short with him, stony eyes staring into his.

“Someone once told me no good comes from pretending that things don’t hurt.” 

“Well nothing’s happening until my husband is back. Okay?” You try to remain nonchalant, to believe your own words. 

He simply stares down at you for a bit, analysing your facial expression. Despite your stone cold facade, he can easily  see the fear etched into your features. Fear that this baby may come before Ralaks return and that if you allow yourself to accept reality, then it may really come true. He glances down at your hand still stuck to the side of your stomach and swallows, looking back up to you. 

“Understood.” 

“Right. Now...” You huff, contemplating if you should say what you want to say. You feel like telling him to back off—to give you some space. But he’s obviously just making sure you’re okay. “...I need to lie down. Just, keep an eye out for—” 

“My brother? Sure. Rest well.” 

——

“Ay’ana.” 

The Olo’eyktan lets out a lengthy growl, earning a look from the traitor herself. 

“Waari.” She sings with a grin, shifting her leer to his mate behind him. “Ronal.” Her eyes fall to her swollen belly, “You are expecting…again.” 

It wasn’t a, ‘congratulations’ either, no. But rather a ‘I see that you are the most vulnerable.’

Ronal scowls, hissing through her teeth. Tonowari steps in front of his mate, blocking her from Ay’ana’s view. 

It was one thing to commit kawngkem [a crime; evil deed] and be banished for it, but it’s another to seek uturu with the enemy. She is no longer considered to be among the ‘banished’, but is now the ‘enemy’. 

Ay’ana looks behind Tonowari, not at Ronal, but at the two deeper skinned, slender na’vis. She scoffs, the corner of her mouth pulling into an evil smirk, revealing her sharpened teeth. Tonowaris eyes widen when he sees that she’s completely adapted to this vile peoples’ ways by putting a file to her teeth. Her eyes flick past them to the last person, the most important. 

“Ralak.” She slowly moans his name as she peers up at him with sultry eyes, allowing her tongue to glaze over her canines. “Such a pleasure.” Ralak winces, chest heaving violently as it fills with repulsion and loathing. “Ah. I remember you being quiet, but not this quiet. Nothing to say to your karyu?”

——

A couple hours have passed and the pain is enough to disrupt your rest. The sunlight dulls with each passing minute, casting a familiar orange hue into the marui. It comes in waves, rippling through you like a bolt of lightning striking the tallest tree in the forest. Making it hard to tell yourself that things are okay—making it hard to keep things quiet. 

“Agh!” You groan suddenly, feeling another jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. It stops you in your tracks, the tracks you’ve been burning into the floor with your constant, nervous pacing. You quiet down into a whisper, “...please wait for your sempu [daddy], my child.” 

“You—uhm.” You hear Zu’té clear his throat at the door, projecting his voice so that you can hear him through the curtain, “You alright in there?”

“Mmn—yes! Fine.” You grate out, making your way back to the bed to lie down. Your feet are so sore.

“Hungry?” He asks, food in hand in the case you were. 

“‘m not.” You try to speak up, but you’re still in the height of the contraction. 

He grits his teeth, leaning into the frame of the marui door. “I didn’t burn it this time.” 

You wish you could laugh, but you can’t even muster up the strength to raise your voice.

Zu’té lingers at the door quietly, knowing plain as day that you weren’t okay. “...what about water?” 

“No...I’ve got.” You say at a normal volume, finally released from the constraints of your pain. 

You begin closing your eyes in hopes that sleep may find you, even if it's just for a few minutes. Zu’té remains at the door for a moment longer, feeling so helpless and useless. He sinks back to the floor, putting down the meat and picking up a new, special piece to weave. 

Weaving passed the time, distracting him from the tiny sounds that managed to escape your mouth. 

Until night fell, and those tiny sounds morphed into deep, lengthy groans and high pitched wails. 

——

“Let us begin.” Tonowari speaks over Ay’ana, averting all attention back to their leader, another female that goes by the name of ‘Varang’. 

She’s almost grey in colour, embellished with a red headpiece that resembles something of an ikrans wings. Her eyes narrow as she looks straight at Tonowari, standing close to his height. 

“Let us.” She hisses with a smile, leading Tonowari to a smaller, private room sectioned by a leather curtain. She motions to Ay’ana to accompany her, leaving the rest of her men to stay with the others. Tonowari lets out a soft grunt, and grits his teeth. He knows he must choose, but his mate is heavy with child and Jake has no interest in leaving his mate in such a place alone. Therefore, he must choose his right hand—Ralak. He motions with a quick tilt of his head, prompting Ralak to clutch his weapon close to his chest and follow closely behind. 

——

“Y/n.” Zu’té’s at the curtain again, half considering to pull it back and come in on his own terms. But he would never invade your privacy like that. And by the sounds of it, things are picking up. “Do you need the healer?”

“No!” You shout out of breath, wobbling to the door with a hand clutching your stomach. You lean all your weight against the wall, knowing he’s on the other side waiting. “No healer.” 

You’re drenched in sweat, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He hears your back slide against the surface, and he mirrors your movements, sitting on the floor too. Only a wall sits between your backs, separating you two. 

“You’re in labour.” Zu’té speaks, his poor attempt at urging you to face reality.

You know that. Of course you know that. But you don’t want it to be true—you didn’t expect it to happen this way—you didnt want it to happen this way. You take a few deep breaths, concentrating on breathing through the remainder of this horrible feeling. And when it’s finally over, you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes—leaving silence to fill the air. 

Where are you, Ralak? 

——

The room is much smaller than the one they were in, equipped with some sort of table or workbench with a few spears and bows mounted on the wall. Ralak stands quietly behind Tonowari, as does Ay’ana to Varang. 

As they negotiate the terms of the treaty, Ay’ana keeps her eyes locked onto Ralak with a smug look on her face. Her hungry eyes wander, shamelessly taking in every inch of the man before her, surprised by how much he has changed. He’s much bigger, more filled out in his warrior attire. His muscles—more defined, thicker. His skin—calloused and scarred. Inked, unlike before.

And as her eyes trail down the line between his abs they lay upon the six stripes that peak out over the band of his loincloth. Her eyes widen and glisten with greed before darting back up to his face, meeting his eyes that bore into her fearlessly. 

What’s worse is that she can see that his mind is elsewhere. 

That his mind runs on you. You’re all he’s been thinking about since he stepped off the reef. He feels deep in his heart that something isn’t right back home. That you need him. That perhaps, you’re calling for him right now, swollen and heavy with his child. 

And it bothers her. 

“It is decided, then.” Tonowari speaks in a confident tone.

“Yes, it is.” Varang’s smile is uncanny as she unsheaths a small, double edged knife from her hip. 

She grabs Tonowari by the hand, placing the blade in the middle of his palm, and closes his fingers around it. She rips it from his hand, drawing blood, and then hands Tonowari the knife and gives him her hand. He returns the unsettling act, slitting her palm. She keeps a smile on her face, locking hands with him until their blood combines and drips to their feet. 

Supposedly, it is a method of establishing some level of trust between the two. Where each has the ability to do much greater harm, but makes the deliberate choice not to. Then, when blood has been drawn, it is mixed by bringing the hands together, sealing the treaty. 

“Bound by blood.” Varang whispers, letting go of his hand to bring hers to her mouth for a taste. 

She sighs and smiles, popping a thumb in her mouth before gesturing to him that they leave. Tonowari fights the flinch on his face, disturbed by her behaviour. Ay’ana stays back, watching the two leaders exit the room. But as Ralak is about to leave behind Tonowari, Ay’ana calls for him. 

——

Another couple agonising hours pass, and you’re constantly changing positions in hopes of finding some relief. Desperation sets in, making you beg the great mother herself to guide you through this. To bring your mate back home. But there’s still no sign of his return. The night dew settles on all the surfaces around you. Pacing no longer helps, leaving you to take refuge in your bed, panting and shivering. 

No matter how much you twist and turn, your stomach only tightens more. Deep groans rip past your lips to cope with the feeling—the pain shooting through your core. Beads of sweat roll off your body at an alarming rate, soaking the sheets on your bed. You feel him move further down, his head now sitting plush in your pelvis, creating an immense pressure that’s almost unbearable. His feet press into your ribs, and with each strained breath you begin to yearn for your mate more and more. For his comforting touch. For the bond.  

“Ralak…” 

——

“Ralak.” She sings, making him stop dead in his tracks. “A word.” 

His ears tuck back and he looks at Tonowari, who gives him a begrudged nod. Ralak sighs and turns around, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. He remains silent, his hand practically bonded to his spear. 

“Still tight lipped, hm? Come now, tak. That is no way to treat your karyu.” She speaks in a condescending tone, approaching him warily. 

Ralak nearly takes the bait, a heat growing in his chest so hot it makes his jaw tense. How dare she call herself that? To taint such a word? He swallows, taking a single, deep breath to recenter himself as he looks away from her. 

“I have to admit.” She steps towards him, the crown of her head meeting the bow of his shoulder. “You have grown into a fine man. You are taller than me now.”  

Ralak just looks down at her, still as stone, his mind consumed with the fact that he could be on his way home to you but this…vile creature is keeping him away. But he will do what he needs to keep you safe, even if it means to tolerate this for the time being. 

With no reaction, Ay’ana grows frustrated and begins circling him, a single finger tracing around his body. 

“You know…My body still yearns for you.” She speaks with a sultry voice, stopping at his side and bringing herself to the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear, “...especially when I’m in heat.”

For a second, Ralak succumbs to her tactics, the ones she used to use on him years ago. A memory, forcibly resurfaced, reminding him of the way she whispered in his ear on that night. It makes him feel so small. Impotent. But only for a second. Ralak recoils, stepping back to create distance between them. He towers over her, dwarfing this small, lanky woman, regaining his confidence and power. 

“Is that all?” He growls, looking her dead in the eye—facing his past with no fear. 

Facing the reason why he lived in a bottle before he met you. You. You. He can feel you. He can feel you yearn for him and he’s ready to come home to you. For this to be over. 

He’s too focused on you to even notice Ay’ana’s face of shock. Shock to know that she’s been releasing her pheromones this entire time and he’s been completely oblivious to them. Which only means one thing. 

“You’re mated.” She gasps. 

And he’s back. 

Staring at a mirror now that he is, too, in a state of shock. Ralak’s heart leaps out his chest, beating so hard that Ay’ana can hear it. How could she know that? He watches as a grin spreads across her face, ear to ear. She knows she’s got him now, despite the jealousy bubbling inside her. She could use this to her advantage—it didn’t matter to her that he’s called for, after all. 

“Using tsaheylu for such useless things.” She bellows a wicked laugh, which fades out when she sees an even more serious look on his face. A look that tells her he’s trying to mask something more, something deeper. “Oh? Is there more to it?” The twitch of his brows and quick flare to his nostrils reveals the truth. “I have to know. What is it, hm?” She nears him once more, two fingers walking up his chest. “Come now, you were never this hard to read.” 

Ralak remains silent, focusing on slowing his heart rate. 

“Is she ill?” She asks as she searches his eyes, fingers grazing across his quivering jawbone. “No, no. It’s not that.” She sighs, stepping closer and closer until his back hits the wall. He moves his head away from her touch, still looking her in the eye—refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Her eyes light up and her ears stand tall.

“She carries your child, doesn’t she?” Her eyes gloss over green with envy. “Pregnant.”

Ralak swallows his spit, the lump in the column of his throat quickly undulating. 

“There it is. I knew you would make strong babies.” Her hand slips down his chest, slithering over his abs and down to the twine of his loincloth, causing him to jolt. “Ralak.” She moans his name slowly, “Oh, Ralak. The last I see of you, you were barely covered in this vile ink with no one at your side…and now you are mated and a father to be.” Her fingers tickle the raised skin on his most intimate tattoo. “I have always longed to be bred by you.” Her fingers attempt to burrow themselves under the band of his loincloth.

“Enough.” He lets out a deep growl, shoving her away, dropping his weapon in doing so. She loses and quickly regains her balance in a few seconds, throwing herself on him. He grabs her by the wrists, restraining her with ease so that she can’t come any closer to him. 

“Perhaps we need to renegotiate the terms so that you are a part of them, yes?” Her voice is full of desperation, trembling as she strains against him. “How does that sound numeyu? You know we have a population problem, right? We could all use you.”

“I have no interest in being your stud.” Ralak spits, forcefully shoving her away, causing her to stumble back and for her head to hit the table. 

He moves quickly, picking up his spear off the ground and heading for the door. She lunges at him, dagger unsheathed from her hip and armed in her hand, whilst her other arm snakes around his throat to pull him onto the ground. 

During the struggle, Ralak drags her off his back, resulting in a nasty gash from his collarbone and down his shoulder blade. He hisses from the burn, instantly assuming an offensive stance to plunge his spear through. Ay’ana returns the hiss, crouching with her bloodied dagger ready to strike.  

“I will kill you.” Ralak threatens, nearing the pointed tip closer and closer to her chest. “And I will take great joy in doing so.”  

“Is that right?” Ay’ana hisses, tail wagging in excitement with unsettling smile spread across her face. She looks as if she’s toying with him. As if she’s playing a game and she’s winning. “Let me have a taste of you.” 

“Nìtam! [Enough!]” Tonowari roars as he yanks back the curtain, instantly averting Ay’ana’s attention to him. Perhaps it was her roots calling her to respond to her true leader. Varang appears beside him with a scowl stained on her face, displeased with her subordinate. One more move and the treaty would’ve already been broken. 

“Easy, Tak.” Tonowari murmurs, and Ralak relaxes into position next to him, blood trickling down his chest and back. 

“Come with me.” Varang snarls at Ay’ana, seizing her by the queue.

“Night has fallen. We will take our leave.” Tonowari speaks roughly, trying his hardest to contain his anger as he rests a careful hand resting on Ralak—leading him out the room.

“In another ten years, Olo’eyktan.”

Tonowari grunts as he and the rest push past the swarming ash people. As soon as they’re far enough, he stops Ralak and has Ronal safely look at his wound. It’s weeping and open, prone to a nasty infection if not dressed immediately. She unclasps her medicine pouch from her hip, and retrieves a small bottle of iridescent liquid, a viscous concoction of herbs, and a needle and thread.

“Come, son.” Tonowari speaks softly, ripping the cork from the small bottle with his back teeth and spitting it on the ground. “That vonvä’.”

Ralak sits on the nearest rock, elbows propped on his knees and head hung low to hide his face. Jake and Neytiri observe in silence, cringing as Tonowari douses the gash with the liquid as Ronal prepares the needle and thread. 

Ralak groans, biting down tooth on tooth. 

Tonowari leaves a little left in the bottle, offering it to Ralak who is visibly trying to keep it together. He plucks the bottle from Tonowari’s hand and knocks it back, puffing out a sigh. 

“Keep still.” Ronal orders, driving the wooden needle through his skin. 

Ralak grumbles, letting his head hang between his knees and his hair fall forward. At this point Neytiri looks away, but Jake can’t. His eyes are plastered to the scene unfolding before him as he recognizes his son-in-law’s strength and perseverance. 

“That should hold until we are back.” She declares, gathering her supplies and stuffing them back into her pouch. 

“Irayo [thank you], Ronal.”

“You’re strong, boy.” Jake mumbles, patting Ralaks back as he gets up. “Anyone care to explain what the hell happened back there?” 

Ralak just shakes his head, leaving Tonowari to speak for him. “I will explain on the way back. You all have someone waiting for you.”

Ralak’s ears spring up at the thought of you, giving him a burst of energy to spring to his feet, gather his gear and lead the trek himself. The women walk behind him, concerned about his wound. Tonowari and Jake are left at the back, sharing a look before they begin their journey. 

——

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant, looking down at your trembling hands that sink into the bed through double vision. You sway from side to side, trying to take steady, deep breaths, but the pressure between your legs is starting to make you panic. The possibility that you may have to do this alone is quickly becoming a reality. 

Zu’té is the one doing the pacing now, unable to sit still in his spot for much longer. He has long abandoned his woven pieces, burning lines into the patio floor as he walks back and forth outside—conflicted on his next move. 

He doesn’t want to go against your wishes and call a healer without you requesting it. But he must keep his word to Ralak—to keep you safe—which means calling for a healer. He chews on the toughened skin on his thumb, listening to your continuous whimpers and whines. By the sounds of it, you’re in active labour now, ready to give birth at any moment. 

——

A few hours have passed since they started the trek back home. Everyone has fallen into new positions that work for them. Ralak, eager to be at his pregnant mate’s side, leads the pack, clearing the path for the others. Jake and Neytiri stay not too far behind him, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings. Tonowari and Ronal are far at the back, linked together as she trudges on despite her extreme weariness.

“Let us take another break.” Tonowari speaks quietly to his mate, hand on her stomach. They share a look, speaking to one another with their eyes. She doesn’t want to hold up the group much more than she already has. 

“No. We are almost there—ugh!” Ronal lets out a sudden groan, clutching her stomach as she doubles over. 

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, turning around with wide eyes. Tonowari supports her, and carefully walks her over to a nearby fallen log, lowering her down onto it. She takes a few deep breaths as Neytiri and Jake rush over to her. 

“Is it time?” Neytiri asks, crouching down next to her. Ronal nods once, completely in tune with her body and aware of exactly what’s happening.

Which is why she insisted they continue, or else she won’t make it back in time. Ralak watches at a distance, his face contorting with sheer worry. No, borderline distress. He looks almost mortified, but not for the reasons that one may think. They all know why, it's obvious. If Ronal is in labour,

…that means you probably are too.  

“Go ahead.” Ronal pants, beads beginning to form at her temple. 

But Ralak doesn’t move. He can’t move. He’s at conflict with himself. An internal battle of knowing that he should stay and help, even though he really wants to go—needs to go. 

“We got it, son. Go to her.” Jake huffs as he helps Tonowari lift Ronal to carry her. “Go on!” He shouts, prompting Ralak to look to his father figure for approval, to which he meets him with a quick nod before averting his attention back to his labouring mate. And with Neytiri’s soft smile of reassurance, Ralak takes a few steps back before turning his heel and booking it home. 

——

“Haah…holy fuck—holy fuck.” You moan, feeling another contraction start up and the pressure between your legs intensify. 

This one has you on your hands and knees, clutching the bed head so hard your nails dig into the wood. It’s undeniable now. This baby is coming whether you like it or not. And as the contraction reaches its peak, you scream. 

“Zu’té!” It pains you to cry out for his name and not your mates. Hearing your call—your permission to enter—he finally bursts through the door and rushes to your side. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” He’s out of breath and on edge.

“I think—oh god—I think the baby’s coming!” You cry out, swooping your hand between your legs to try and feel what’s happening. 

“Shit. Like now? Like right now?” Zu’té panics as he watches you, hands hovering around you, unsure of what to do. 

“I d-don’t know! I—I don’t—I want Ralak! Fuck, fuck. I want lak!” You cry out in sheer agony. “I want my mate. I-I need him!” 

“Y/n. Eywa.” Desperation is potent in his voice now. 

The fact that you’re calling out for his brother means the time has come and he feels like a fool to have let this get this far without stepping in. He swallows and takes a breath to calm down, just as your contraction ends and leaves you sobbing on your knees. 

“I’m getting the healer.” He says firmly, turning his heel to leave but you grab his wrist before he can walk away. 

“No! Don’t leave…Please don’t leave me alone.” You beg, fear glossing over your eyes until it spills onto your cheeks once more. He looks at you with furrowed brows, lamenting for you. Now he’s really conflicted, because this means…it’s him or no one. 

“Ah, shit. Shit. Uhm.” He rakes his fingers through his scalp, thinking about his next move. He’s seriously considering going regardless, able to see the situation for what it is.

“Please, Zu’té.” You plead weakly, slowly lowering yourself onto your behind and off your knees, leaning back into the bedhead. 

“Okay, okay.” He nods and you let go of his wrist, immediately using your hand to support your stomach. You let your eyes close, they’re swollen and heavy. “Uh–right, right.” 

For some reason he can’t stop repeating himself twice. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping grounded. He heads straight for the bucket of water and rag to bring it over to you. He dips the rag into the water, and wrings it out. You barely open your eyes at the sound of the bucket making contact with the floor, and see that he’s nearing you with a damp cloth and raised brows. He’s waiting for your go ahead. 

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse and trembling. 

Zu’té begins to wipe away the sweat that’s dripping in your eyes, your forehead, neck and chest. Dipping the rag back into the water, he wrings it out once more and wipes down your shoulders and arms. You can’t help but sit there and close your eyes, allowing him to do it all, exhausted.

Feeling something press against your lips, you open your eyes in a daze. Zu’té holds a cup of water to your mouth, and you drink ardently, gasping for air and closing your eyes when it’s emptied. Sleep calls to you, taking you as you barely manage to mutter out a weak, “...thank you.” 

Zu’té calculates another five minutes before your next contraction, giving him enough time to fetch a fresh pail of water—something absolutely necessary for the birth. He leaves you sat up against the bedhead, rag on your forehead as you sleep. But not even three minutes go by before he hears your languid moan. 

Abandoning the bucket, he rushes back into the marui, finding you standing and holding onto the marui stilt with one hand as the other tugs at the strap of your top. Seeing you try to undress has him stopping in his tracks and turning his head to look away. 

“Y/n—”

“Ughhaa—” You grunt, untethering the knot of your top. Your body is trying to get comfortable for the birth of your son now, and these pieces of cloth feel suffocating. “Get out!”

With that, Zu’té turns and retreats back to the patio, hands on his head as he begins to make his plan. If he flew on his skimwing, he could make it to the village and back with a healer in about ten minutes. But would that be enough time? What if you didn’t have ten minutes? Your pained groan turns into a howl and it makes his ears twitch. 

By the sound of that, you might not even have five minutes. 

“Come on, baby brother. Don’t make me do this. Please. Don’t make me go back in there. Oh shit—I’m going to have to go back in there, aren’t I? Eywa. Eywa. Okay—It’s okay. I can do this. Childbirth. It’s just childbirth. Right? Right.” 

Zu’té tries to convince himself that he’s capable of this despite this not being what he signed up for. 

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.”

Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice. 

“Brother.”

[eskumii]

yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

[libraryofolive]

candy please!

featuring: Modern AU!Husband!Suguru Geto x fem!reader

genre: fluff, drabble

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: You and your husband decided to take your twin daughters trick or treating for the first time.

part two of spooky section, my 2024 Halloween event!

Nanako and Mimiko coming into yours and Suguru’s life truly was a blessing. The two young girls had fitted into your lives so seamlessly that sometimes you couldn’t even remember what life was like without them. So, when it came to their first Halloween with the two of you, you knew you had to make it special.

The idea for your family costume came quickly and easily, straight from the girls’ current favourite TV show. Suguru had taken some convincing - “but they’re dogs,” he had protested - but one pleading look from you and his daughters had any other objections dying in his throat.

The lead up to final day of October had been full of many other Halloween traditions: you had carved pumpkins (only slightly destroying your kitchen whilst doing so), taught the twins how to bob for Apples, and even taken the girls to a corn maze. But what everyone in your household seemed most excited for was the promise of free sweets in the form of trick-or-treating.

You and Suguru were stood in front of the girls, who were sat on your kitchen island, various different colours of face paint and cheap make up strewn all over it. The two of you had yet to do your own make up, deciding it would be easier to quickly do it yourselves whilst your little rascals got themselves into their outfits. Said rascals were giddy with glee, large close-lipped grins taking up most of their face as you painted Mimiko orange and Nanako was being painted blue by your husband.

“How much candy do you think you girls will be getting tonight?” You asked the two as you gathered more orange onto your sponge.

“Millions!” Nanako squealed in reply.

“Millions? You’ll still be eating it when you’re on old granny!” You joked.

“Yeah, you’ll still be eating it when you look like Uncle Satoru.” Suguru joined.

“Is Uncle Toru really an old granny?” Mimiko asked quietly.

“Mhmm - Nana, I need you to stay really still for this bit - yeah Mimi, Satoru is really old.” You looked over at Suguru to see his tongue peeking out of his lips slightly as he coloured in the tip of Nanako’s nose with a black pencil.

“How old is he?” The currently half-orange Mimiko asked.

“96.” You responded, a sly smile gracing your lips. You would be visiting your husband’s best friend later, and couldn’t wait to see what this conversation brought.

“Wow, that is old.”

“Oh yeah, you should ask him what life was like before cars.”

“He’s older than cars?” a gob-smacked Nanako gasped.

“Oh yeah.” Suguru agreed, “he’s like, super ancient.” There was a pause, “Right, you’re all done Nana, go get your costume on. Be careful of your make-up though!” He lifted the girl off the counter, and as soon as her feet were on the ground she was sprinting off to the costume neatly hung up in her room. Mimiko was soon following her, scurrying off to complete the transformation into her favourite cartoon animal.

You and your husband sat down at the counter, picking up hand mirrors and sponges to start your own make-up for the evening.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this.” The man next to you sighed as he rubbed blue paint into his cheeks.

“As I recall, there was no talking needed. All we had to do was unleash the puppy-dog eyes.”

“Fitting, really.” You hummed, focusing more of your energy on perfecting the brown spot over one of your eyes. “You’ve really put a lot of effort into this.”

You sighed, “I mean, I just want them to have fun. And you know I’ve always loved Halloween.”

“The amount of costume parties you’ve dragged me to since before we were together speaks volumes in that regard.”

“Exactly. I just want them to love it as much as I always have.”

“Have you seen how excited they are for this? Honey, you go so above and beyond for our girls. They love you so much. And your enthusiasm has always been infectious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Babe, Halloween was always neither here nor there for me before we met. It was mostly just Satoru using it as an excuse to eat bucket-fulls of sweets and get himself shit-scared at some crappy horror movie. Then I met you, and all of a sudden I couldn’t imagine not dressing up, or going to a party, or even carving a pumpkin.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry my make-up off.” You threatened at his heartfelt words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stood up, officially finished with his make-up. “I’ll go see how the girls are doing.” He kissed the top of your head as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“And get your costume on! I want photos together before we head out!”

You pulled up to Gojo’s house, his being the test-run for the girls’ trick-or-treating. You had decided to trick-or-treat around his outrageously wealthy neighbourhood, and he had even offered for you all to stay at his home afterwards (although you and Suguru theorised it was an excuse to convince your daughters to share their stash of candy with him). You got the girls out of their booster seats and walked them to the front door, explaining what they should do.

“You shout ‘trick or treat!’, okay?” The girls looked at each other and nodded, before yelling it at the top of their lungs.

“No, sweethearts, you do it after he open the door, okay? How else will he know its you?” Suguru said through chuckles. He knocked on his best friend’s house, the door swinging open rapidly.

“Candy please!” The girls exclaimed, holding out their little pumpkin baskets to Gojo. You shook your head, half sighing-half laughing, whilst Suguru let out a roar of laughter. Nanako wandered straight past Gojo, as if to go and make herself at home, Mimiko trying to drag you with her as she followed her sister.

“You’re the family from Bluey!” Gojo said excitedly, looking at all of your costumes.

“No, Nana, Mimi you can’t just go into random stranger houses-” You rushed after your daughters, ignoring the white haired man completely.

“But he’s not a stranger, he’s Uncle Toru!” Nanako yelled from the sofa, where she had made herself comfortable.

“Yeah, but we’re going to lots of people’s houses tonight, and you can’t just walk in, okay?”

“Maybe we should try that again…” Suguru suggested from the doorstep, where he was still stood with his best friend.

“Good idea. Okay, girls, come with me.” They took your hands as you led them back outside, Gojo closing the door after you.

“Remember, you say trick or treat when he opens the door, okay?” Suguru said as he knocked on the door.

“Okay!” The two kids chorused. The door swung open once again to reveal Satoru Gojo.

“Is it true you’re older than cars?”

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

[emeraldelysian]

Park Seonghwa ✧ Piece By Piece

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Requested By: @acciocriativity Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You decide to surprise your boyfriend with a gift he's always dreamed of. Wordcount: 1.0K+ Warnings: If you're allergic to cuteness, please look away Note: This is just so wholesome and cute. I'm so sorry again for how long this took to get out, but I hope you enjoy it!

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The idea of surprising Seonghwa with something special had been on your mind for a while. He was always so loving and expressed it with the sweetest gestures, so you had been trying endlessly to figure out the perfect gift to show your appreciation for it. Seonghwa wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend, your confidant, and your biggest supporter. You wanted to give him something that would show just how much he meant to you.

One chilly autumn evening, you were snuggled on the couch, idly scrolling through TikTok. A video popped up that instantly warmed your heart. It featured a girlfriend who had surprised her boyfriend with an extraordinarily large and expensive Star Wars LEGO set. The boyfriend’s reaction was priceless—filled with glee and child-like wonder. Your thoughts immediately turned to Seonghwa and his unabashed love for Star Wars and all things lego. He had mentioned wanting that particular LEGO set countless times but always decided against it because of his busy schedule.

An idea began to blossom in your mind. Over the months, you had noticed how his eyes would light up whenever he walked past a LEGO store or how he would spend hours browsing through online forums discussing the newest releases.

There was no question about it anymore: you had to get that LEGO set for him. It wasn't just about the gift itself; it was about celebrating who Seonghwa truly was. You couldn’t wait to see his face, to capture that moment when he would walk into the room and see the LEGO box waiting for him. You were determined to make this surprise one of the best moments of his life.

The next day, you set out on your mission. You had been diligently saving up for a gift to make sure that no matter what you got, it was the best one on the market. When you finally found it at a nearby toy store, you smiled, your heart swelling with anticipation at the thought of Seonghwa's reaction. You paid for it excitedly and hurried home to prepare the surprise.

As you quietly entered your apartment, lugging the massive box behind you, you noticed Seonghwa lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book. You carefully hid the box in your bedroom before calling out to him.

"Hey, love! How was your day?" you asked, trying to keep your excitement in check as you joined Seonghwa on the couch.

He looked up from his book, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, comforting warmth. "It was good, just the usual hustle at work. How about yours?"

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, hiding the bubbling anticipation beneath the surface. "Pretty good! Did some shopping, nothing special." You hoped your face didn't betray the secret you were hiding. Seonghwa, as perceptive as he was, didn't seem to pick up on anything unusual, thankfully.

As you both settled into your evening routine, the hours seemed to crawl by. Dinner had never gone by so slowly, and each moment felt like an eternity as you eagerly awaited the perfect time to reveal your surprise. After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen was tidied up, you suggested watching a movie.

"How about we watch one of the Star Wars films?" you proposed, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up instantly. "I would never say no to that. Which one do you have in mind?"

"How about Empire Strikes Back?" you suggested, knowing full well it was one of his favorites. As the iconic opening crawl began, you watched Seonghwa's face glow with excitement, and you excused yourself to 'grab a blanket.'

Rushing to the bedroom, you grabbed the massive LEGO set from its hiding spot and hauled it into the living room. The box was nearly as big as a coffee table, the image of the intricate Star Destroyer emblazoned on its side. You carefully positioned it near the couch, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

"Hey, close your eyes for a second," you called out to him, trying to keep your voice casual yet laced with excitement.

Seonghwa looked at you curiously. "What are you up to?" he asked, his practicality tinged with curiosity as he closed his eyes as requested.

"Keep them closed!" you insisted as you positioned the box right in front of him. Finally, taking a deep breath, you said, "Okay, open them."

His eyes fluttered open, and what followed was a moment that you would cherish forever. The look of pure, unadulterated joy that spread across Seonghwa's face made every bit of effort worth it. He was speechless, his eyes darting between you and the gigantic LEGO set as if trying to confirm it was real.

"How did you- when did you-" he stammered, enveloping you in a bear hug that almost knocked you over.

You laughed, unable to contain your excitement. “Surprise! I know you’ve always wanted it, and I thought, why not get it for you? You deserve it, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa's eyes shimmered as he blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “I- You didn't- You didn’t have to… thank you, truly.” He wrapped you in a tight embrace, his excitement completely contagious.

“I’m glad you like it.” You smiled, your heart fluttering as you hugged him back.

The next few hours flew by as Seonghwa eagerly unpacked the LEGO set, and the two of you began assembling it together. Laughter filled the apartment as you experienced small mishaps—misplaced pieces and confused instructions—but those moments only brought you closer. You shared stories and enjoyed each other’s company, the air sweet with the scent of hot cocoa you had prepared.

“Piece by piece, just like our relationship,” Seonghwa mused, his eyes warm as he glanced at you.

You smiled, placing another brick carefully. “Exactly.”

Before you knew it, the cold autumn evening had given way to a starry night, and the almost-completed LEGO set sat proudly on your living room table. Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you. For this, and for everything. You make my life brighter every day.”

[bunnyreaper]

guy fawkes/bonfire night with the 141

(mild nsfw/18+, mostly fluffy though)

as the resident demolitions expert, you best believe johnny has that shit on lock. he refuses to go to an organised display because he just knows he can do way better. his job gives him the expertise and access to anything he might need (and ghost secretly helps him assemble anything else if they need to skirt the law just a lil)

he ends up with a massive cache of intricately rigged up fireworks all perfectly timed--johnny had been planning it on and off for half the year, working on preparing for all of october and pulling late nights leading up to november 5th.

he bonds/flirts with you by begging you to help him a little with the set up. of course you don't really know enough to help, but you hold things for him, give him encouragement and listen to his excited rambles after you make sure to ask questions to get him going.

when the big night finally comes, he's setting off remote detonators with glee, pulling you into his body as the two of you watch the display. you get lost watching the sparkle in his eyes--both his passion and the flurry of sparkling explosions.

the sex that night is even more frantic than usual, johnny filled with excitable energy after watching all the blasts.

simon is in charge of the bonfire and is very territorial about it. starts collecting huge amounts of wood early on and setting it all up in the field behind the barracks. the whole thing is stacked PERFECTLY, structurally sound as fuck and to go up in a barrage of flames.

he'd love to make "guys" to set up on the bonfire, leaning into his goofy side. some of them have masks just like him, some of them have printed out faces as your enemies, one of them has hastily sewn in features that look a LOT like soap... but simon swears it's just coincidence when the scot loses his mind looking at it.

he's happy you have to quietly tag along as he sets up, and occasionally indulges you in chat as the two of you carry piles of wood back and forth. of course he keeps jokes for the occasion in his back pocket.

on the night he lights the fire, steps back and admires his work as he hugs you from behind, cradling you as he rests his head on the top of yours and the two of you listen to the crackle of flames as they lick up the sides of the structure. as the night goes on, his hands start to wander over your body and his lips find their way to your neck, making you burn hotter than the fire did.

john is on general dad duty ensuring safety, but more importantly he's pn hot chocolate duty. his recipe is a special one (and yes there's a bit of whiskey in there of course) passed on from his mother and his grandmother.

he's insistent on everyone having a thermos filled with it, to keep you warm and to enjoy the start of winter properly. of course while handing out the flasks he tells stories of bonfires he saw as a kid.

he invited you along with him while he worked in the kitchen, allowing you to be the only one to know about his secret addition to the drink (you'd giggled and encouraged him to add more, as well as making him do a shot as he prepared the other drinks).

the two of you had a blast shoving the whipped cream can into the thermos to fill it up with the topping--and price had definitely squirted some on your face.

he also put you in one if his oversized jackets, wrapped a scarf around you and made sure you were covered in layers of clothes and hats and gloves. he didnt want you getting cold even for a split second. the coat smells just like him as he leads you out into the field hand in hand, his other holding a bag with your hot chocolate filled thermos' in.

when you make it back to your room after all the festivities, he makes sure to warm you up properly, pinning you to the bed making you feel drunker than the whiskey-filled beverage did.

kyle takes point on setting up a cozy space for you all, but especially for you. he knows exactly what he has in mind to make the night just perfect for you. he sets up a little lean-to or two, lays down a picnic spread and fills it with all the warmest and comfiest blankets and cushions for you to lounge on. he strings dimmed fairy lights across the top, lays some lanterns around the outside and creates the most enchanting little set up imaginable.

he does it all because he knows it'll make your night, your month, your year. yes the guys will be there two but this is all for you, because he knows something so pretty and aesthetic and cozy will make your heart so happy.

he makes sure to help you snap photos of the comfy space, making sure the memory is never forgotten, but mentions that he has one final thing before you all get comfortable and wrapped up in the blankets.

he has a stack of sparklers waiting for you, as he knows they're one of your favourite parts of the occasion. two two of you take cute photos with the sparklers, with kyle showing you how to make the trail show up by giving the shot a long exposure time, of course the two of you draw hearts together.

later on when you're cuddled up, maybe his hand sneaks under the blanket and finds your clit, making sure you really see sparks.

[strikersexhaver]

𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 🌊

A/N) Trying something different today! At least with formatting, this is also inspired by Billie Eilish’s ‘ocean eyes’ song!

Since, well look at his beautiful eyes, very all fluff not really substance.

————

Marrying the Chief Justice of Fontaine had perks to it. Of course, there was popularity in news, perhaps financial opportunities that could open itself to you. Maybe getting a seat in the Opera Epiclese each trial or event? Getting closer to the Lady Furina? The Hydro Archon of Fontaine?

These were all pleasurable to most, but to you, none of it was even close to simply just being able to marry him was amazing… It all felt like a dream.

To caress his cold yet smooth face, to look into those beautiful eyes of his. A light blue with slight hints of red on the edges with the silted pupils he had added to his ethereal beauty. Some would call it monstrous features that were unnatural but to you, he was everything.

Here you were now, staring at him in awe in his office…

“Are you listening?” Neuvillette’s voice alongside side a slight wave, woke you up from your lovingly gaze.

“Ah, yes I am- sorry… I was-“ you paused, looking for the right word, “daydreaming.” You scratched the back of your neck.

He let out a small chuckle, “it’s all right… We might as well take a break, you and I have much more planning to do.” He closed his journal gently, sealing away to-do list of wedding details.

“I was thinking actually, perhaps you would like to join me in a stroll after the trial soon?” His smile small but happiness covered his aura and energy.

“I would love to,” you said, kissing his cheek then hugging him.

He caressed your cheek, tilting his head as he smiled softly. Enjoying the warmth from your body onto his naturally cold one. His oceanic eyes glimmered with glee, enjoying every part of this.

The tears of joy that fell from his face unexpectedly ran as he realized the euphoria he would experience on the two of your’s special day. It was making time seem so slow for him, which for an immortal… Is strange, time usually is quite the opposite.

As it started to drizzle outside your attention turned from him to the rain.

“Oh Neu… Are you alright my dear? It’s raining, and well-“ you looked back at him, “you’re crying?”

“It’s happiness ma chérie…” He wiped the tears off before pulling apart from you, his composure fixed to a more hardened less softened expression. His gaze gesturing you to follow him outside of his office, which you eagerly did so.

[xinamie]

🥟 — dumplings & dimples.

pairing: kung lao x gn! reader

summary: owning a food cart has its fun days, especially when that cute customer comes by. ♡

tags: flirting, fluff

The dumpling dealer — that's what younger customers called you. Apparently, they even spread that title amongst their peers which is why you had swarms of them waiting in line almost every other day. Xiao long bao, or soup dumplings, were the most popular! There was no secret recipe or ingredient though, you just made them with time, patience, and lots of care.

Someone seemed to disagree, however, wanting to know all your secrets. You could see the wide brim of his hat at the end of the line, most likely praying to that one benevolent lord he talked about. There was nothing to worry for as you always kept his favorite dumplings in stock. It was tradition at this point.

When he finally reached you, a grin stretched across his face as he ducked his head under the cover of your cart. His eyes immediately darted across all the steamer baskets before they settled on you, the corners crinkling in glee.

"Well, if it isn't my baobei..." He would joke every single time, the term of endearment being a play on words for the items on your menu. And without fail, he would receive an eye roll followed by that smile he grew to adore so very much.

No other words were necessary as you packed up his usual order, but of course it wasn't quiet for long.

"Don't forget the extra ch—"

"Chili oil on the side, yes, I know."

His lips curled into a satisfied expression as you poured the delicious spice into a little bag. As you twisted the plastic to secure the juice, Kung Lao couldn't help but speak up again. One of his arms leaned onto your cart, though he kept a respectable distance while you worked.

"Ready to spill your secret? Madam Bo said you told her, so why not me?"

There really was nothing special about your cooking, but the man could be pretty adamant at times. For him to keep coming to this same stall, there had to be a reason why and you just assumed it was for recipe leeching. At least, that's what he made it seem on most visits. Handing him his prepared meal, you shot him a look that he was familiar with.

"Fine, how about a date then?"

That was— certainly new. He held the bags with one hand while the other placed more than enough funds to cover his order into your money jar. A steaming hot bao was already in his mouth as he raised a brow, waiting for your answer.

"You're joking, right?"

A muffled noise escaped him, vaguely hearing a nuh uh in the middle of his snack. He then swallowed the dumpling properly, leaning forward to tap the tip of his finger against the visor you wore for food safety. A huff escaped you as you leaned back, trying to understand his motives here. All you received was a chuckle, the low tone rumbling from his chest and feeling as if it entered yours.

"Your time wouldn't be wasted, you know. Give me a chance." His words were buffed by his own secret weapon, those damned dimples, on full display just for you. It was one of his features that had always attracted you and by the look on his smug face, he knew it too.

A much more boisterous laugh came out of the man as he swiveled around, waving a dumpling in the air.

"The main fountains, tomorrow evening. Say... seven? See you then!"

He left without confirmation, a heavy sigh parting your lips as you watched his back. There wasn't much time to think about it as more customers demanded your attention.

If anyone asked, it was all the steam and pan frying that got you all heated!

☆

a/n: omfg i thought tumblr deleted my draft and i almost cried but hiii first fic! sorry if it's lame jfjeirkekdb

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Goons of Gotham

There was no shortage of goon, miscreants and scoundrels in Gotham City, far too many to list individually in this project.  That said, here are several of the more prominent goons that batman has had to contend with throughout the years.

Germs and Bell

A pair of neurotic goons in the employ of Roland Daggat, Germs and Bell handled the illegal dirty work that allowed Daggat to conduct his illegal affairs while keeping his hands clean and maintaining plausible deniability.  Unsurprisingly, this did not work out well for the pair of ne’er-do-wells and both ended up defeated and apprehended by the Dark Knight.  

Actor Ed Bagley Jr. provided the voice for Germs while actor Scott Valentine voiced Bell.  The cads first appeared in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Feat of Clay Part One.’    

Carlton Duquesne 

A renown mobster in Gotham City, Carlton Duquesne ran highly successful protection rackets for The Penguin. Duquesne teamed up with the Penguin and Rupert Thorne in a potentially lucrative scheme to sell illegal weapons to the war torn nation of Kaznia.  The operation was taken down by the mysterious Batwoman and Duquesne and his coconspirators were sentenced to prison.

Actor Kevin Michael Richardson provided the voice for Carlton Duquesne with the character appearing in the animated feature, Batman: Mystery of The Batwoman.  

Ma Mayhem

The villainous Ma Mayhem was an old-fashioned criminal in the futuristic Gotham City. With her two sons in tow, Ma Mayhem committed several robberies that eventually led to her running afoul of Batman (Terry McGinnis).  Although Batman initially struggled in dealing with the villains, the hero eventually prevailed and Mayhem and her two boys were captured and incarcerated.

Actress Kathleen Freeman provided the voice for Ma Mayhem with the matriarchal menace  first appearing in the nineteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Egg Baby.’  

Captain Clown

Not much is known about Captain Clown, other than it was absolutely terrifying.  It was a powerful android of unknown origins that The Joker had obtained and dressed up as a sea-faring clown.  The android was programed to follow The Joker’s instruction and aided the Clown Prince of Crime in his scheme to use a garbage barge to embank all of Gotham with his toxic laughing gas.  

It was quite difficult for Batman to defeat Captain Clown, only succeeding when he was able to trap the android in an industrial car crusher that compacted it into a cube of metal and wires.  Distraught over his robotic minion’s demise, The Joker exclaimed ‘You’ve killed Captain Clown!’

The frightening android appeared in the fifteenth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘The Last Laugh.’  

Armory

A former Special Forces operative, Jim Tate later acquired advanced degrees in electronics and engineering, with which he made an impressive career as a small arms weapons designer.  After he was fired from Wayne/Powers, Tate became desperate to maintain his tony lifestyle.  Utilizing his training and expertise in experimental weaponry, he became the villainous Armory yet was ultimately taken down by Batman.  

Actor Dorian Harewood provided the voice for the Jim Tate with the character first appearing in the tenth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Spellbound.’ 

Nitro

An explosives expert and arsonist, ‘Nitro’ Nelson took great glee in blowing things up.  He was hired by Roland Daggett to set off a series of bombs that would level the Park Row neighborhood of Gotham.  Actor David L. Lander provided the voice for Nitro, with the villain appearing in the twelve episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Appointment in Crime Alley.’  

Golem

Nelson Nash was a student at Hamilton High School who was frequently bullied by a fellow student.  Pushed too far, Nelson decided to get his revenge by stealing a Galvanic Lifter Machine so to destroy his tormentor’s car.  This Galvanic Lifter Machine (nicknamed a ‘golem’) was an enormous robotic loading device with a roughly humanoid shape.  The machine was operated by way of a neural-syncing headband that enabled the operator to control it through mental command.  

After destroying the car, Nelson used the Golem to menace another classmate he had a crush on.  At this point Batman interceded and debilitated the Golem unit with an electrified battarang that caused it to short circuit and shut down.  The feedback into the neural headband caused Nelson to be shocked into unconsciousness.  When he awakened, however, he found that had somehow cultivated psychic powers that enabled him to control the Golem even without the rural headband.  

Actor Seth Green provided the voice for Nelson Nash with the young villain and his robotic companion first appearing in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Golem.’  

Garth

An early subject outcome of Doctor Dorian's experiments, Garth was a gorilla with enhanced intelligence and other rudimentary human-like capabilities.  Not as refined a subject as Dorian’s later creation, Tygrus, Garth did prove useful as muscle to execute the scientist’s schemes.  

Actor Jim Cummings provided the voice for Garth, with the brute appearing in the thirtieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Tyger Tyger.’ 

Ian Peak

An ambitious and unscrupulous television journalist, Ian Peak was the host of ‘The Inside Peak,’ an infamous tabloid newscast that dished the dirt on the influential people of Gotham City.  After stealing an experimental intangibility belt from a scientist, Peak used the belt to garner all manner of secrets regarding the luminaries of Gotham.  He even discovered Bruce Wayne’s secret identity as Batman.  Unfortunately for Peak, however, the belt ultimately caused his body to lose structural integrity and he perished when his body defended down into the earth’s core.  

Actor Michael McKean provided the voice for Ian Peak with the villainous paparazzi appearing in the eighteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond ‘Sneak Peak.’   

Doctor Belson

Gregory Belson was a transplant surgeon who had previously worked in the  cryogenics laboratories at GothCorp where he was a colleague of Victor Fries.  A series of poorly thought through investments resulted in Belson’s finding himself in a dire financial situation.  Mr. Freeze was able to leverage Belson’s debts as a means of getting him to conspire with him in a dastardly plot.  This resulted in the craven Belson meeting a fiery end.  

Actor George Dzundza provided the voice for Dr. Belson, appearing in the animated feature, Batman & Mr. Freeze: Sub-Zero.

The Repeller

Dr. Suzuki was a researcher working in the medicinal technologies department of Wayne-Powers.  He and his colleague developed the ISO field generator rings which could generate a magnetic forcefield around a living being.  Suzuki stole the device and used it to commit crimes as the villains ‘Repeller.’  Batman was ultimately able to surmise the Repeller’s true identity and take the villain down.  

Actor Gedde Watanabe provided the voice for the Repeller with the villain appearing in the second episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Untouchable.’   

Vincent Starkey

Also known as ‘The Shark’ Vincent Starkey was a mobster and drug dealer who had previously been put away by Detective Harvey Bullock.  When Bullock was receiving death threats, he was certain that the recently paroled Starkey was behind them.  Aided by Batman, The Shark was taken down as he was starting up a new narcotics racket.  Although it turned out that it was actually Bullock’s landlord who was behind the death threats.  

Actor Gregg Berger provided the voice for Vincent Starkey with the villain first appearing in the fourth episode of the fourth season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘A Bullet for Bullock.’  

Falseface

The mysterious mercenary known only as Falseface possessed the ability to shape the contours of his face so to imitate any man of his size and stature. The villain was hired by the terrorist organization known as Kobra to smuggle a deadly virus into Gotham.  The plot was thwarted by the combined efforts of Batman and Stalker.

Actor Townsend Coleman provided the voice for Falseface with the villain appearing in the twenty-first episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Plague.’  

Montague Kane

Doctor Montague Kane traveled around the world publishing works on debunking the supernatural.  He showed a particular interest in magicians, revealing to the public the non-magical ways of how their illusions worked. 

The stage magician known as Zatanna was aware of Kane's reputation.  Revealing the secrets of stage magic was very much frown upon and Zatanna was eager to stump him with a trick he would not be able to figure out.  Although Zatanna was practiced in real magic, she relied on traditional sleight of hand in her stage act.  And she had created an illusion utilizing mirrors that would make it appear as though ten million dollars had disappeared from the Gotham Mint.

Kane was actually a cheat and a thief.  He learned how Zatanna was planning to pull off her trick and seized upon it as a means to steal this money for himself.   And Kane's expertise of illusions allowed him to rig the trick so that it would seem the money was there, while it was already stolen.

Kane and his lacks tried to make a quick getaway with the stolen money but were stopped by Batman and Zatanna.  Kane was delivered to the police and Zatanna was cleared of all charges.

Actor Michael York provided the voice of Montague Kane with he villainous skeptic appearing in the fiftieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Zatanna.’

Bigtime

Charlie ‘Big Time’ Bigelow was an ambitious hoodlum and former friend of Terry McGinnis.  Three years prior to Terry becoming Batman, Charlie and Terry were arrested for burglary.  Charlie was eighteen and tried as an adult, resulting in a three year prison term; whereas Terry was still a minor and hence avoided jail time.  

Following his release, Charlie fell in was a gang of thieves who planned to steal an experimental chemical from a Wayne-Powers facility.  

The robbery went awry and Charlie ended up doused in the mutagenic chemical.  This caused him become physically deformed, yet also bestowed him super human strength and durability.  Going by the alias of ‘Big Time’ Charlie used his newfound powers to become a super villain and had multiple altercations with Batman.

Actors Stephen Baldwin and Clancy Brown provided the voice for the villain, first appearing in the fourth episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Big Time.’  

Mutro Botha

The killer known as Mutro Botha was a top lieutenant within the mysterious Society of Assassins.  When the Society found itself hunted by Curaré, Botha attempted to extort Batman into protecting him.  The plan did not work and Botha ended up killed by Curaré.  

The legendary Tim Curry provided the voice for Muto Botha, with the desperate criminal appearing in the fifteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Final Cut.’  

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congrats on the 4000🎊🎉🎊

Could I request 🧳 with Asmodeus 😘

Thank you, and thank you for your patience!!

"If you really want to go, I'll come with you." - Asmodeus

cw: blood, implication that a drink was laced

*Note: Afray is one of several demons that serves both Asmodeus and Astaroth, and their name means "dust".

“Afray,” the lesser demon’s name leaves Asmodeus’ lips in a near-whine as he holds out an empty glass, “I feel like you haven’t been paying me enough attention lately. Do you like being with Astaroth more?”

“Of course not, Lord Asmodeus.” Afray smiles as they dutifully pour more Demonus into the offered cup. “I’ve just been quite busy, that’s all. But just between me and you,” they lean in closer, “I much prefer being by your side than Lord Astaroth’s.” 

“Of course you do!” Asmodeus giggles before taking a slow sip, his gaze still focused on the other. “Who doesn’t want to be by my side and have the privilege of being so close to all this beauty?” 

“Indeed,” their smile doesn’t budge, “I’m forever grateful that you’ve deemed me worthy enough to serve you.”

“Well, I don’t let just anyone get so close to me like this, after all.” Finely manicured claws go to gently hold the other demon’s chin, thumb stroking their lips. “While no one can compare to my beauty, you’re just so pleasing to look at.” 

Something flickers in Afray’s eyes, and Asmodeus notices. 

“It’s really a shame, though.” His grip tightens, claws beginning to pierce flesh. “You’d be so much more pleasing to look at if you were a better liar.” 

Finally, the smile drops as disbelief takes over Afray’s features. “Th-that hurts – and whatever do you mean? I haven’t lied.”

“Mmm, and there you go again. It really does make you look much more…” he scrunches up his nose, “...ugly.” Asmodeus holds up his glass with his other hand, turning it slightly in the light. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” 

There it is again, that look in their eyes. 

“N-notice what?” Afray gulps, a hand going up to grip Asmodeus’ wrist in an effort to be released. “It’s just a particular vintage. I’m sorry if it wasn’t to your taste, I can grab ano–AHH!” They let out a yell as they’re lifted into the air,  bleeding from where claws have fully dug into their face.

“Oh, if only it was a matter of taste.” Asmodeus slowly licks his lips, as if savoring every drop. “It’s you tampering with the drink that I’m not a fan of – and let me guess, you gave those bottles you wanted me to take home to my brothers your special little treatment too, right?” 

“P-please, l-let me go!” Afray hisses, struggles in the greater demon’s grip, tail and feet flailing in the air. “I-I’m sorry, I–ack–I’ll do what..ever you want, just…let me go!”

“Whatever I want? Well, what I want right now my dear, sweet Afray, is to make it so that your name is quite literal.” He smirks as he sees the panic spread. “Turn you into dust, and oh, I’m sure you’d make for a wonderful highlighter. Could really make my cheekbones pop!” 

“Just let me go!” Afray scratches and claws at Asmodeus’ arm, desperately trying to escape. “Please!” 

“Tch, really, you’re just going to ruin my skin like that?!” Tired of how much they were struggling, Asmodeus tosses Afray to the floor. They scramble to get up, but find themselves pinned down by a heel as the greater demon hovers over them. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, I-I was put up to it! They offered me so much I couldn’t refuse!” They grovel, hands now clawing at the ground. “I-if you let me go, I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes! I’ll tell you everything! I’ll go a-and make things right!” 

“Alright.” Asmodeus takes his foot off the other’s back. “If you really want to go,” he leans down, his voice full of devilish glee. “I’ll come with you!”

“Wh-what?” 

“Well, I need to make sure you actually ‘make things right’. Astaroth won’t be too pleased to hear about this either, you know? You’re going to want me there to make sure you don’t mess up again.” He grabs them by the scruff of their neck, hoisting them up so that they’re now on their knees.  “And you know how much I enjoy beauty. After all, you just look so much prettier when you beg.”

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss, Rachel Zegler, Joy Woods, and More Celebrate Theatre Kids at Elsie Fest 2024

After a two year hiatus, Elsie Fest returned to New York September 8, and joy was in high supply.

Staged on the picturesque Pier 17 rooftop, the theatre-themed music festival was filled with reunions, surprising moments, and special previews of the 2024–2025 Broadway season. The beloved brainchild of Emmy winner (and star of the upcoming Broadway musical Maybe Happy Ending) Darren Criss, his influence could be felt across every inch of the festival, from performers setlists to the colorful shirts emblazoned with his face worn by many of the attendees.

Beginning at 5 pm on the temperate Sunday, the festival loomed over New York Fashion Week as the Tommy Hilfiger show was held on a Colin Jost and Pete Davidson's ferry only a few stories below. Kicking things off with Broadway Rave (a DJ dance party that spins a mixture of new theatre hits and modern classics) and Marie's Crisis-style singalongs, fans flooded onto the rooftop in order to scope out their ideal spot before the live performances began. This year's lineup of performers was a doozy; the setlist for the evening, which spun through sunset and up until the 10 pm noise curfew, was as followed:

----------

Darren Criss: As the festival's steward, Criss had the largest set of the night, paying tribute to his past, present, and future with a setlist that was filled to the brim with nostalgic surprises. Opening with a raucous rendition of "Teenage Dream," Criss stayed close to his Glee roots with "Cough Syrup," an onstage Warbler reunion ( featuring Telly Leung, Curt Mega, and Max Adler) where the group performed "Sincere" from The Music Man, "Arthur's Theme," and Billy Joel's "Movin Out" with his Glee costar Chord Overstreet (who summoned thrilled screams from the crowd when he came out to end Criss' set). Criss even found the time to tip his hat to his Team Starkid roots, bringing out Little Shop of Horrors star Andrew Barth Feldman and Maybe Happy Ending co-star Helen J Shen to perform "Granger Danger" from A Very Potter Musical, the college project that launched Criss into the public eye.

Speaking of Shen, Criss let fans into his present with a special preview of the upcoming Broadway musical Maybe Happy Ending, which will star Criss and Shen as two outcast robots nearing the end of their lifespan. Performing the show's title track, the duo also welcomed newcomer Dez Duron to share his Sinatra-esque ballad, "A Sentimental Person," which seems destined to become a slow-dance staple. The present portion of Criss' set also included a touching duet of "Dear Theodosia" from Hamilton between him and Hadestown star Jordan Fisher—the performance was particularly poignant since Criss became a father for the second time this past June, and Fisher has a young son at home.

Oh, and one more thing. While celebrating the music that made him during his adolescence, Criss brought out JC Chasez of *NSYNC to sing "It's Gonna Be Me" and "Bye Bye Bye" before peeling back the curtain on the future: Chasez announced his impending Frankenstein musical Playing With Fire.

----------

Death Becomes Her: The sheer scope of Criss's artistic family became clear upon the entrance of Julia Mattison and Noel Carey, the lyricist and composer of the upcoming Broadway musical Death Becomes Her. Mattison, who has known Criss since they were five years old, debut new lyrics for the show's song "Let’s Run Away Together."

----------

Hazbin Hotel: The popular animated musical series made their festival debut, with star Blake Roman (Harmony) performing the song "Poison," with Criss ducking back out to play guitar and provide background vocals.

----------

As the evening came to a close with a massive group sing-along of "Defying Gravity" from Wicked, a sense of community and camaraderie glimmered under the darkened sky. As these stars from theatre, film, and music came together, one thing was made clear: Once a theatre kid, always a theatre kid.

[dawn-moths]

♡ “what he does for you on your birthday” sd!nanami headcanons (since it’s my birthday today and i want this man to spoil me lol)

♡ words: 2,800+

♡ content warning: contains 18+ content! minors please do not interact! daddy kink, size difference, reader is called “princess, sweetheart, angel”, reader is picked up and carried shorty, aftercare, bathing together.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡ You start your day having slept in (which you usually do, Nanami knows his precious little baby needs her rest) and wake up loosely tangled among the soft sheets and fluffy comforters of the king sized bed. You look over, expectant and excited to see Nanami lying next to you, but your joy quickly turns to confusion when you find his place in bed empty. However, the moment you smell the decadent sweetness of your favorite homemade french toast drifting in to the bedroom, and hear the distant, muffled clinking and clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen, a gentle grin finds its way back onto your face.

♡ Stepping out of bed, you slide your feet into your favorite fluffy pink slippers, scuffing them gently across the floors as you wrap your billowing silk robe tighter around your shoulders and approach the kitchen. You can hear him humming, the melody slow and lilting in his rich, smooth baritone. Sometimes he hums to you when you can’t fall asleep at night, softly stroking his knuckles along your cheek or his palm against your hair until you finally doze off. But now, as he looks over at you standing in the entryway, his song ceases and a smile spreads across his stoic features.

♡ “Good morning, princess,” Nanami greets you with syrupy sweet adoration, setting the spatula that was in his hand off to the side where he’d just flipped the piece of bread cooking in the pan before migrating closer to you. You meet him in the middle and fall into his arms, nuzzling into his chest as he kisses you on the head, squeezing you slightly tighter in his embrace, and asks, “Sleep well, birthday girl?” in a quiet, velvety murmur.

♡ You nod against him, feeling a yawn rising in your chest, knowing you won’t be able to suppress it as it fights its way from your body, limbs still a little heavy with fading slumber. Nanami hums out an endearing note, beginning to guide you further into the kitchen to sit at the white marble counter where he’s already made you a plate piled high with fresh, juicy strawberries and rippling, fluffy whipped cream, mini chocolate chips sprinkled atop the mountain of the sugary masterpiece.

♡ The first bite tastes like heaven, your eyes glittering with glee as you shift your gaze from your breakfast to the man you love so much. A part of you is honestly a little impressed how well the french toast turned out. Nanami’s cooked for you before a few times in the past, but with his busy schedule the two of you usually end up at one of your favorite 5-star restaurants or have one of the interns drop off some fancy takeout. You’re glad that Nanami is willing to indulge with you, sliding into the seat next to you with his own plate that’s nearly identical, though his has far less whipped cream and chocolate chips and is accompanied by his usual mug of black coffee. He’s never really had a sweet tooth like you do, but once in a while, on special occasions, he’ll make an exception.

♡ Golden sunlight streams in through the tall, floor to ceiling windows as breakfast concludes, and Nanami says he has a surprise for you— only, it’s hardly a surprise, as you know he goes above and beyond on your birthday. The only question will be how will he outdo last year?

♡ He leads you by the hand towards the living room, then, right before you can turn the corner he stops and tells you to close your eyes. “Promise you won’t peek until I tell you?” He playfully requests, and you giggle and do as he asks, replying with excitement, “I promise, as long as you don’t make me wait too long!” From there, once your eyes are closed and covered by your hands, he guides you into the room, leaving you waiting in suspense for just a moment before announcing you can open your eyes, and as soon as you do, you can’t help as a gasp slips past your sugar-dusted lips.

♡ The whole room is decked out with glittering decorations and fresh bouquets of roses in pink and white and red, balloons of the same colors scattered across the floor and floating in their own hovering bouquets in each corner of the room. Sparkling confetti is strewn across the floor (you can’t believe Nanami was willing to make such a mess, even on your birthday, but he must’ve remembered when you said how much you loved confetti at your childhood birthday parties growing up and decided that one day with the mansion in slight disarray couldn’t hurt) and at the center of it all is a pile of neatly stacked presents, each box wrapped in shiny paper and topped with a big, silky bow, metallic silver balloons hovering behind the gifts in the numbers of your new age.

♡ For a moment, you’re so caught in awe, you’re just standing there, but as Nanami places a big hand on your shoulder and says, “You know, the presents aren’t going to open themselves…” with a hint of harmless teasing, you instinctively begin to draw nearer to your shimmering gifts, all the decadence luring you in like a moth to a flame.

♡ It takes over an hour for you to open everything, leaving the room littered with more glittering paper debris and streamers of ribbon, this year’s birthday gifts consisting of everything from the latest designer handbags and shoes in your favorite colors to the oversized plushies that you so adore (and keep piling high on all the guest beds as Nanami had to put a cap on the number allowed to live in the bedroom you two shared at three) and some books you’d been dying to read. In the end, it doesn’t matter the cost of the gift, you love each and every one of them equally because they all came from your Daddy, specially and thoughtfully selected for his perfect little princess.

♡ But the day has only just begun, and as the clock ticks over into the early afternoon, Nanami is already suggesting you go get ready for a day of top secret, super special birthday soirée activities. So you put on your favorite dress, pairing it with one of your new pairs of shoes and a pair of diamond earrings, grab one of your new handbags, and walk out the door arm in arm with Nanami. He lets you choose which of his sports cars you want to be driven around in today— you pick one of the convertibles— you queue up your favorite playlist, and you sing along to your favorite songs with the wind twining through your hair as Nanami speeds into the heart of the city.

♡ Your first stop is the luxury shopping block where your Daddy treats you to even more expensive items from your favorite brands, designers, and boutiques. When he asks you what you want for lunch and you reply with, “Ice cream!” followed by an adorably devious giggle, knowing if it were any other day, Nanami would never let sweets substitute a meal. But today, of course, is no ordinary day, so Nanami gives you a grin and shakes his head to himself, unable to say no to you as you’re already drifting towards your favorite little ice cream shop and all its pastel pink, blue, and green flag banners beckoning you from the elaborately decorated window display. Nanami must be in an especially cheerful mood today himself, as, not only did he have french toast this morning, he also indulges in two scoops of his favorite flavors.

♡ You two take a break from all the walking and shopping as you enjoy your afternoon dessert in one of the plush retro booths of the ice cream parlor, sampling each others flavors here and there as your ankles intertwine underneath the table. When the toe of your shoe begins to inch further up his leg, slow and teasing, Nanami flashes you a look that is both warning and wanting, as if he’s daring you to see how much you can get away with here before anyone else catches on. But you decide to cease your little game before it goes too far, knowing full well that tonight he’ll be the one teasing you.

♡ After ice cream, you two do a little more shopping and then decide to catch a movie as you happen past the theatre and take a peek at what’s playing. You’re so exhausted from shopping that you nearly doze off with your head rested against his shoulder in the dark of the room, the theatre nearly empty aside from one or two other people catching the matinee showtimes. Nanami’s arm drapes comfortably around your body, wishing there wasn’t an arm rest in the way so he could let you curl into his lap like he knows you love to do so much. You guys are in the very back row, so he figures he might be able to get away with it what with the other scattered patrons sitting more towards the middle and front, but you seem to remember that you actually want to pay attention, stirring back awake and trying to right your posture a little straighter so you don’t get too comfortable.

♡ Once the movie is over, you two head back to the car and it’s already dinner time. Nanami hopes you didn’t fill up too much on the ice cream earlier, because he has a reservation at one of your favorite 5-star restaurants tonight. He was even able to get your favorite table too, the one on the second floor with the view from the window where you can watch the glittering lights of the city as you dine on delicacies from all different corners of the world. In the end, you do have to take about half of your dinner home, but that’s alright, because Nanami knows you like to snack on your leftovers the next day.

♡ It’s nearly nine o’clock when you two finally arrive home, and Nanami can tell you’re worn out, but in the best way. “Tired, princess?” he asks when he catches you in the middle of a big yawn. You nod and smile, telling him “Only a little bit…” to which he chuckles under his breath and replies, “It’s hard work being the birthday girl, isn’t it?” and that earns him another sleepy nod and a grin. But Nanami has one last surprise for you, so he hopes you have enough energy left to enjoy it.

♡ Suggesting you two head upstairs, you’re none the wiser to the fact that, while you two were out, he had Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi drop by the house to set up the last surprise in the master bedroom. He’d been secretly texting them throughout the day and getting updates on how things were coming along. His interns never disappointed, and even Nanami is in awe once he finally pushes open the doors and casts his gaze upon the room that’s been so decorated it’s nearly unrecognizable as your shared bedroom. You, of course, are blown away, completely and joyously surprised as you take in all the bouquets of flowers and balloons and ribbons that curl from the ceiling down to the floor in a cascade of all your favorite colors.

♡ It’s so much to take in that, at first, you don’t even notice the box topped with a big, silky pink bow sitting at the center of the bed, just waiting— begging— to be opened. Once you do though, you glance back at Nanami as if to ask, “For me?” and he gestures a hand towards it as if to say, “Of course, do you even need to ask?” and that’s all the confirmation you need to go bounding towards the bed, doing a jump to land before the box with your legs tucked beneath you, knees bordering it on either side. No matter how excited you are though, you always savor the way the thick, colorful paper peels away to reveal what’s hidden underneath, appreciating it like it’s art— sort of like how Nanami always takes good care to enjoy every detail of how each piece of your clothing he takes away reveals a view of your skin to him, no matter how familiar, no matter how eager he may secretly be, he always takes his time in unwrapping his favorite gift.

♡ He delights in the way your eyes light up as you land your gaze upon the new lingerie set he picked out especially for you— another one in your favorite pink and white with ribbons and lace, yet still unlike all your others of a similar design— and mutters in your ear as he places one of his big, warm hands on your shoulder, his palm engulfing you, “Wanna try it on, sweetheart?” to which you flash another one of those devilishly adorable smiles and reply, “Be right back,” before planting a quick peck on his cheek and scampering off into the master bathroom with a giggle. Once you’ve changed you merely crack the bathroom door, giving him a teasing sliver of a peek from the gap between the connecting rooms before emerging all the way.

♡ Sometimes Nanami likes when you play with him, likes how you’re able to help him forget all his important, pressing responsibilities, even if just for a short while, and go to a place where it’s just the two of you, living in your own perfect little fantasy world. He likes that you challenge him sometimes too, thinking you’ve gained the upper hand— and he lets you believe it too, for a little while— before being reminded just who’s really in control here.

♡ So, standing by the bathroom door, back pressed to the wall, he rhetorically asks, “Is everything alright in there?” catching another quick glimpse of you through the tiny opening. “Why don’t you come find out?” you bait, a devious lilt woven into your sweet tone. You two go back and forth for a little while, the push and pull of who holds the power egging you both on, until it all ends with you sat atop one of the counters with him standing between your legs, his jutting sex pressed to your soaked core, your mouths locked in a languid, deep kiss that leaves you breathless, lips slick with each others spit. When he suggests you move things back to the bed, you just give an eager little nod and let Nanami scoop you up in his strong grip, fingers digging into the plush flesh of the back of your thighs, and carry you back to the mattress.

♡ And he puts every other year of birthday sex to shame this time around, his hands and mouth and cock practically worshiping every inch of you, taking his time and really working you up until your legs are trembling and your back is arching and you’re whining his name through a clipped moan of divine pleasure, giving you a little more time than usual to come down from the high before he’s gifting you with another earth shattering orgasm.

♡ Once all is said and done and you’re both fully satisfied, Nanami cleans you up with a warm washcloth and leaves you to rest while he draws up a candle lit bath for the two of you to share, vibrant crimson rose petals scattered and floating along the water’s surface, and gently massages different parts of your body as you rest with your back to his chest, your body cradled between his legs. Your lethargic little fingers reach back behind you and lazily play with his hair, tired whispers of “Love you, Daddy…” and “Best birthday ever…” falling from your lips. Nanami kisses the top of your head, his grip flexing slightly tighter on you for a moment as he says, “I love you too, angel. I hope you had the best day ever.” You turn to face him, still moving slowly, and straddle his lap in the big, porcelain tub. Staring into his eyes, the flickering candle light dancing in the center of all that dark, alluring tawny, you press a chaste yet lingering kiss to his lips. “Every day with you is the best day ever,” you tell him, and it’s so sincere it sort of catches him off guard. “You’re the best gift any girl could ever ask for.”

♡ Nanami’s expression of awe morphs into adoring contentment, into the purest, softest kind of love. He lightly nudges his nose against yours and says, “I’d still give you the world, if you asked for it.” Laying your head on his shoulder and relaxing against his form, you mutter, “Don’t have to… I already have it.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[rainroses45]

My Moonlight

(Neteyam x fem. reader)

☾description: You wander off into the forest and Neteyam is out looking for you….this takes place 10 years later

☾a/n: I promised fluff so here it comes

☾song inspiration: Neytiri’s song cord and melting

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

You twirled through the forest as a gentle hum played in your mind. Your hands scattered through the different plants feeling their unique textures. The simple breeze of fresh air flowed through your messy hair. A smile spread across your face as you stopped your movement and stared off into the distance. The beautiful sun began to settle down for bed, but still giving you an hour or two to rejoice in its natural glow.

“Ngati oel munge soaiane.” You sang gently as you sat slowly onto the ground, needing a little rest from the climbing and walking. Your baby bump caused you to struggle a bit, but you still managed to get comfortable. The beautiful flowers blossomed around you, heavenly disposing their scent onto your smooth skin. The forest stayed quiet as you sang it a song.

“Lie si oe atanur,” your voice carried through the forest surrounding you. The moss underneath you was so soft and laced in bright green. A soft small kick was felt on your stomach. You smiled down rubbing one hand on your bump.

“Pähem parul, tì'ongokx ahuta.” The flowers swayed towards the melody as the wind grew quiet. Your necklace rattled gently with the wisps of the breeze. The feeling of freedom and glee made you glow in the evening dew.

“Lawnol a mì te'lan,” your soft voice sang as the sun slowly began to leave you for the night. It was the moon’s time to shine.

“Lawnol a mì te'lan,” you sang the lyric once more, wood spirits flowed towards your direction like graceful dancers.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, tonìri tìreyä,” the world around you began to glow in vibrant colors. It’s soothing pigments lured you into a sleepy trance.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe,” you were so tired and liberated from the world around you. The need to close your eyes grew stronger and stronger every passing second.

“Srrìri tìreyä, ma Eywa, ma Eywa.” You let out a yawn as you finished the song, nestling up next to a tree you allowed yourself to drift into dreamland.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“There you are my love,” a familiar voice said as you opened your eyes to greet the special intruder. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder softly waking you back up.

“Neteyam, you nearly scared me to death,” you weakly laughed as you turn yourself to lay on your back. A yawn escaped from you as you rubbed your eyes open.

“I could say the same thing,” he commented back “I told you to not travel too far, with you being almost ready to deliver, I do not need you to be far away in pain.” His expression lightened up after seeing you and the baby were more than alright.

“I know, but I just wanted to adventure out for a bit.” You explained lifting yourself up with the help of your husband into a sitting position. “I’m just tired of being cooped up all day staring at the same wall.”

“I understand my love, but tell me when you are going to wander off so I may accompany you or send one of my siblings too.” He pushed back a strand of your hair behind your ear, admiring your beautiful features.

“I don’t need a baby sitter Neteyam.” You stated in an annoyed tone. “I am perfectly fine by myself.” You looked away from your mate, wanting to enjoy the beautiful night sky before you were sent back to your prison.

“And I didn’t say you weren’t capable sweetheart, I know fully well who I chose to spend the rest of my life with. You are a strong warrior Y/n, but-“

“There is no but, I just want to be able to have some privacy.” You responded back with tears in your eyes. The moon light shines across the sorrowful liquid.

“I understand that Y/n. I just don’t want to be told that my lover is in labor alone with no one to help her.” He argued back grabbing your hand in his, intwining your fingers in a tight hold.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized looking down at your baby bump, grabbing Neteyam’s free hand and placing it on your stomach allowing him to feel his baby’s kicks.

He looked back at you with gleaming eyes and a soft smile. You had the sweetest soul he has ever seen, he thought as he cradled your right cheek carefully. Gently bringing your faces together, your lips touched in a passionate delicate kiss. He held your face as you melted in the feeling of love.

The kiss was soft, he held you like a fragile flower who’s petals only began to bloom. Neteyam loved to lavish you with his love. You are his sweet caring mate who deserves nothing less than the world after all. He was so proud of you, so very proud of you for carrying his child.

He did everything for you, feeding every one of your cravings no matter how weird they were, massaging your sore feet as you cried out in pain over the cramps. His protectiveness over you increased once he figured out you were gifted with the blessing of having life. Oh how he loved you, you were his moonlight who paired so well with his stars.

A blush blemished your face as you parted away from the kiss. Your hands still intwined with one another.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” you whispered softly as you shifted yourself into his arms, trying to drift back into your wonderful nap.

“I love you to Y/n.”

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

a/n: if i was only this motivated to finish essays this fast…welp

[grackleshells]

I haven’t finished the series yet but Scarecrow in Batman: The Audio Adventures has to be one of my favorite iterations of the character. Gah! I just can’t get over it!

He’s so sinister yet has this giddiness about him and I just adore it! The knife game scene comes to mind first but even just his dialogue as Dr. Jonathan Crane is so full of energy and character. Like he takes glee in terrorizing people! And I love that! It makes everything he does more horrific.

Also the fact he has little quirks like giggling sinisterly (even when he’s supposed to be a regular not-evil Dr lmao), having a love for old creature features, and a reoccurring desire to eat fear (hot) makes his whole character stand out- he’s not just the same scary, evil guy but in a different medium. Why are so many people sleeping on him?? It makes me insane

Bradley Whitford absolutely stole the show and his voice-work is truly something special. Really hope we see more of him as Scarecrow in the future

[drapopia]

the flames devour (everything that we are)

pairing: (young) sister imperator x (young) papa nihil emeritus

warnings: SMUT! vaginal sex, vaginal fingering/cunnilingus, groupie sex/mild infidelity, a messy coupling, some light angst and mentioned misogyny, mentioned past murder, set around the late 60's but before the Kiss the Go Goat incident, only Primo and Secondo exist

summary: Control, power, fame. Everything Sister Imperator promised the Clergy that the Ghost Project would culminate and more. But when push comes to shove and Nihil can't look past the packed backstage doors, someone has to put their foot down. (Surprise, surprise. It's not Sister Imperator).

word count: 10.2k

authors note: special thanks to @barelydaisy for commissioning this piece from me! the gratitude i feel towards you makes me ever so fond! i hope whoever reads this enjoys it, comments/reblogs/likes are always appreciated!

MINORS DNI

Read On AO3

--------------------------

Facetious. Flippant. Exaggeratedly stupid enough to make her head thrum with anger on a daily basis. How unfortunate that he be so alluring. 

The motel lobby was stuffy, the air thick and humid with the hum of the heater. She assumed it was the owner’s fault the heat was up so high, the flurries of snow outside swirling across the frosted panes of glass. She looked at the carpet below her, mottled with green and brown in an unappealing combination. It was a struggle to push down the urge to scoff.

Lifting her head, she studied the features in the dimly lit foyer. The furniture was mismatched in an abysmal show of ‘interior design’ skills, a mixing of modern and so dreadfully outdated that it made her want to retch. Resisting the urge to openly huff, Imperator pulled her coat tighter around her. The fur trim tickles against her neck, her hair further up than normal and lessening the chance of it whipping in the wind. The silk scarf wrapped around her head protects her ears, and heightens the anticipation of walking into a room and having all eyes on her. 

She walks closer to the small front office window, peering in a bit more. The urge to ring the call bell and finally get some goddamn service was at the forefront of her mind. The dingy carpet, the thick lining of dust in the creases of the front desk, she could go on about the reasons she wished they were at another motel. To put it lightly, they were shit out of luck. She was no stranger to dingy motels, but the fact that they were better than that was a nagging thought in the back of her mind.

The tour was going well. In fact, better than well. Throngs of screaming fans, clubs and bars packed with people begging for an opportunity to see Papa Nihil up close. From her spot in the wings, Sister Imperator watched with subtle glee. She knew that Nihil was charismatic, but she hadn’t anticipated the reception they had gotten from the public. There were those in it for the music, for Satan, or more overwhelmingly for him. The dingy bars had been acceptable to play, the low tickets quickly piling into more than they had ever imagined possible for the Clergy. 

Sister had fought for the Ghost project, staring down the eyes of men she knew only wanted to see her on her back with her legs spread. Men who wouldn’t shirk the chance to push her down for fun, to throw down her ideas with a lackadaisical “We’ll consider it.” But Sister Imperator had listened to her, looked at her ideas with an interest that led to her taking a young woman with wild ideas under her wing. And now here she was, with her title and her status, a former name now neglected, a shallow grave in the woods at the Abbey that nobody would find,  and a small syringe hidden in a lockbox that she had thrown away the key to. 

But with fame and a message spreading far quicker than anticipated, Sister couldn’t help but wish to stretch the budget in other ways. For once she would like to lay her head in a bed she hadn’t voraciously searched for bed bugs, stripping the sheets to find cigarette burns in the mattress. Nihil hadn’t cared, simply flopping down beside her and mouth opening in an uncaring yawn. Though they had separate rooms, it was seldom that they spent the night away from one another. Though she was loath to admit it, she had grown used to the weight of his head on her chest and the rise and fall of his breath on her nightgown. The road was lonely, who else to turn to but him? Practically any ghoul or stage hand , she thought to herself. But where was the fun in that?

Her line of thought was broken as she heard the waddling gait of the man stationed at the front desk, his non-slip shoes certainly close to slipping on the waxed linoleum. He appeared at the window, the flannel buttoned so tightly around his neck that she was frightened it was strangling him. 

He let out a huff, flipping through the pages of paperwork that the Clergy had sent months earlier in preparation for the tour. Three rooms, two for her and Nihil and one for any reclusive ghouls that didn’t want to pile in on the bus. The man looked at her, locking eyes with an uninterested, if slightly bored, look. “Alright, I found the work in the back. Took me a minute, but it was just tucked away. You have ID, right?” 

Sister nodded, her hand reaching into the mustard yellow vinyl bag she kept her clutch in. After flicking through her pocket change, she found her ID behind Nihil’s credit card. She grabbed it, placing it down on the cracked plastic of the desk and pushing it towards the man. Though she had gloves on, she didn’t trust how clean the man's hands were and didn’t want to risk him staining the crisp white of her faux fur gloves. (She cared little for the plight of the leather industry, but she couldn’t deny the news articles dampened her excitement for a new addition to her closet). 

The man picked up the ID, gave it a cursory glance and nodded his head in acceptance. His hand slid under the desk, looking around for the keys no doubt. She turned around, her arms lightly wrapped around herself as the heater had stopped its incessant blasting. She turned in a half circle, her boots clicking against the floor once and then stopping. Her eyes turned to the window, the flurries coming down as mercilessly as they had been when they had rolled into the parking lot. 

The light from the overhead street light shone hazy light over the parking lot, blending into the dark of the winter night as seamlessly as cream stirred into coffee. The bus was in the distance, the tinted lights only showing blurry shapes moving against the inside of the vehicle. That wasn’t what she glimpsed that snatched her attention away from the moment.

 Leaning against the pillar of the motel was the curved posture of Nihil, his coat wrapped around his waist in a way that posited his sculpted abdomen that anybody would blush at. His makeup was still painted on, though a familiar eye could tell where it was beginning to pill on his neck from the copious sweat that poured down in the stage lights. His legs were crossed behind him, his platforms digging into the swirls of snow that would no doubt accumulate over night. Even through the heat of his body, the flakes of snow drifting down had caught on the unruly strands of hair and failed to melt. That wasn’t what Sister couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away from. 

Nihil’s arm was placed along the hip of a woman, unknown to her. No doubt a fan from the way the woman’s lips were curled into gleeful disbelief at her luck. Sister could almost imagine the tittering, the vapid flustering of words that had become so commonplace that all she could do was turn with a roll of her eyes and a tap of her cigarette. The woman’s lips moved, and Sister could see Nihil’s mouth open in a laugh, the easy smile on his face directed at her. The hand on the woman’s hip visibly gripped tighter, pulling her closer to the warmth of his torso. The woman’s hand raised, gripping his clothed bicep and running up and down. Mocking. 

Nihil turned, the woman moving alongside him and his arm curling around her hips, her deliciously full waist. His fingers pulled at the flesh, and his touch was… soft. Unfamiliar and with an air of understanding that no doubt made the woman’s stomach flutter with warmth. Had she ever been touched by a man, a woman? The intoxicating knowledge that she had sealed the deal with Papa Nihil, up and coming star of the Olde One himself. Did she know just how well his fingers moved, how his cock had made so many feel like their world was melting around them? She soon would. 

Sister’s face was blank, her eyes narrowed in contemplation and thinly veiled vexation. Her stomach was simmering with… rage? Unclear. Her gloves squeaked as her hands squeezed together, her arms still crossed tightly together. 

“Ma’am?” A voice said behind her, and she turned on her heel. What now? Imperator thought, her eyes flicking down at the set of keys on the ledge of the desk and her irritation fading. She picked up the key, gripping it in her hand. 

The front desk attendant reached into the drawer, his head tilting up to meet her gaze. “Do you want the other key for your friend?” He motioned his head, leaning on his foot to look at Nihil outside. 

Sister shook her head, her hair weighing heavy on top of it. She still needed to take a shower, unravel the intricate pins around her bun, and unpack her clothes for the morning. She let out a sigh, a careful shrug of her shoulders as she craned her head around to look out the window once more. Still in the cold, Nihil’s arms were wrapped tightly around the woman, his lips latched onto her neck and her mouth open in what was undoubtedly a wanton moan. In the middle of the night, no one was around to see them. But Sister knew he would have done it onstage, at an after party, on an altar at Black Mass for Satan’s sake. 

She swiftly turned her head, meeting his gaze and pointedly dropping a twenty on the cracked plastic once more. “He can do it himself, I’m certain he can manage.” Her voice came out firm and stiff in the quiet of the lobby, and she turned to walk to the door. While she could ignore the way he licked at the woman's ear, turning pink from the bitter gusts of wind, she couldn’t ignore the simmering heat in her stomach. But there was nothing saying she couldn’t try. 

___________________

The heat of the dressing room was sweltering, the push and pull of bodies making Imperator’s lip curl in disgust. The heat of the fire ghoul to her left was making her sweat, and she couldn’t afford to stain the new Emilio Pucci dress she had purchased earlier that day. The pink and green pattern helped to disguise the sweat no doubt attempting to push its way past her slip, the silk cool against her skin in the overwhelming bustle before the show. She was happy she opted to wear her hair in a high bun, the bump in her hair allowing the thin air to waft against her neck. 

As she studied the people (and otherwise) in the room, her eyes landed on Nihil naturally. His hands were steady as he painted the lines across his lips, his mouth open in what would be a gasp if the thought to do so struck him. She smiled, her hand raising to her lips and taking a small drag of her cigarette. She let her hand fall away, tapping the ash into the crowded ashtray to her left. As the months in the tour had gone on, she had felt drawn towards Nihil. Long nights were spent with him nestled into her side, speaking about where they had come from, their dreams, what toppings they would add to a sundae, what colors they look best in. It was hard to deny the way her heart pounded when he drew near, though she hid it behind a stern demeanor and a perfectly drawn on smile. 

The door opened, a ghoul walking in and looking towards Nihil. “Papa? You’ve got a call on the other line, the manager is trying to patch it through to ‘ya.” The earth ghoul spoke in a lethargic sway as he pushed his way through the crowd, the familiar pungent smell of dope stuck to his clothes. Nihil nodded, shooting the ghoul a half painted grin as he set down the brush and reached for the white marbled telephone to his left. He picked it up off the receiver, holding it against his ear. He paused, listening for the feedback of the call. 

“Yello?” Nihil said into the phone, a confused look on his face, though it stretched into a grin as he let the call go on further. “Yes, it’s Papa. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping? Is it not night there, ragazzino? ( little boy).” Nihil’s lips were wide as he snickered into the phone, cradling it to his ear as he listened intently. Imperator could have bled from the ears at the urge to roll her eyes. 

Nihil’s son Primo was sweet, there were no doubts about that. Quiet and intelligent, he was racing through his studies with diligence that was admirable for children his age. However, she couldn’t stop the irritation that fueled her when she saw him, heard his voice. He was a child, for Satan’s sake, she was being unreasonably harsh! But he was part of the bloodline, time would tell if he was worthy of his spot as Papa in adulthood. For now, he would watch Doctor Who and study to be the antipope. What an antithesis, she snorted to herself, pulling her cigarette to her lips for another puff. 

“I will keep you on my mind, make sure to keep an eye out for your little brother. Especially him, I know he has been eating my Cordials. I have eyes on him, the piccola rana. (little frog).” NIhil laughs, his white paint creasing where he had failed to set it. After a minute or so of diligent listening, he shushes into the phone. “Goodnight, tell your fratello I send my love.” A pause, and a look of tired fondness softens his face. “Bye bye.” He pulls the phone away from his ear, placing it back on the receiver with a ring. 

She wouldn’t pry, Sister thought to herself. Though she was never one to shy away from stirring up the mud with a well placed jab, she knew better than to push at the… delicate nature of Nihil’s relationship with his young children. It’s not as though they were all little monsters (She found herself grimacing internally, they weren’t little monsters all the time. But it would be no hard challenge to count on her fingers all the times she’d found leftover Chiclets from Secondo in her purse. Little bastard). 

She rose from her seat, pushing through the ghouls pulling on their clothes for the performance. Walking up to stand behind his desk, she met his gaze in the mirror with a smile barely noticeable in the haze of the dimly lit room. 

Nihil meets her smile with one of his own, his hand deftly gripping the small liner brush to his left and dipping it into the black grease paint. His eyes pull away from hers with a small degree of difficulty, she notices, and looks towards the mirror and continues the small strokes across his lips, above the bow of his upper lip and ending at his full lower lip. Hands rise, resting on his shoulders as she leans slowly down. Sister smiles, pulling in his scent that was so delicately him. How he managed to smell like juniper and basil eluded her, Nihil even going to a point of going into another room to spray his cologne so she couldn’t see the bottle. (“A man has to have some sort of mystery, si?” He had laughed, and she responded with a scoff. It still didn’t stop her from scouring every perfume counter in every city to find it). 

She leaned her cheek against his, his eyes still locked onto his visage in the mirror, but his hands had a perceptible shake to them. “Nervous?” Sister purred, her pink frosted nails tracing along the line of his black leather coat.

Her cheek pulled away from his, her lips turning to the shell of his ear. Her breath was soft and warm on his ear, a tickle against the skin of his neck that pulled the hair on end quicker than the cold outside. Even in a warm room, Sister made him feel as if he’d gone skinny dipping in November. 

“No, I am not. Merely hot.” His voice was soft in the din of the crowded room. “You would think they would have another room to dress in, si ?”  He smiled at her, adding a thicker line to balance the larger stripe alongside it. Her nails continue to trace along his collar, the soft pads on her finger edging along the skin of his neck. Dipping into the countours of his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple with a calculating grace. His breath was steady, but his eyes, not yet coated with black shadow, were lidded with a hazy fondness. 

An excited yelp from the corner by Nihil’s own guitarist shocked her out of the moment, her hands quickly pulling away. NIhil’s smile dropped in disappointment, but it stilled as Sister’s hands returned to tug his collar closer together and quickly fasten a button.

“We have a budget, Papa.” Sister’s voice said softly, though it was said with such finality so as to stop the train of conversation from going any further. Nihil shrugged, setting down the smaller liner brush and reaching across the table for his loose powder. As he opened his mouth, she knew the attempt would go ignored.

He hummed, looking up at her with a playful smirk, “Oh? And our budget includes a new pair of pumps?” At that her smile becomes an even line, her thin eyebrows furrowing as the words drop from his lips. Of course he had to push too far. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the limits of their spending allowance. It didn’t stop him picking the most upscale restaurants in the area, loosening the buttons on his shirts as more and more drinks were sent to the table, the way his eyes roamed the women who passed by. To her annoyance, he had never noticed the way her hands gripped the stem of her wine glass with vitriol, how she met the gaze of every curious woman and turned their eyes away. 

“Yes. Just as it apparently includes a new coat and- oh? What’s this?” Sister’s hands shot towards him, gripping his wrist with care. She held it with tightness, making sure not to hurt Nihil. Never hurt, she told herself. Sister’s eyes sparked with a curious viciousness, but her stomach burned with ire.

“A new watch? Where could you have possibly gotten this little gem?” She hummed similarly to his own playful song moments beforehand. If there was one thing Imperator could do, she could match someone’s game. In kindness or in truculence. 

Nihil’s smile didn’t drop, but the kidnapped arm rose and cupped her cheek. She sighed, resisting the urge to lean into his palm. The hand remained around his wrist, but she let it it go somewhat lax. The thick curls of hair along his arms were soft, though the wiry swirls of hair along his stomach were similar but not quite so coarse. Her thumb rubbed along his wrist, a gentle back and forth. 

“I want to look nice for you, Sister.” Nihil’s accent and the curiously odd intones of ‘Sister’ made her cheeks tighten with the urge to giggle, and the tight smile made Nihil’s lip lift even further.. “Do I not look nice for you? I try so hard, you know this.” He pouts, the pop of his lower lip making her smile spread further. Damn fool, she thought to herself. Was she speaking about herself, or Papa? She could parcel through these thoughts later in the obscured dark of the tour bus. 

“You do.” Sister said in a low mumble. The way her stomach buzzed was unfamiliar, the compressed feeling around her lungs making it hard to conceive of any thought besides how Nihil smiled at her, the way his hand fit along her hip and how her hand had never felt so drawn to touch someone. His skin was so warm, a sunkissed tan that made her buzz with something unknown. Or maybe she had always known. 

He pulled away, and she fought the urge to jump towards his arms again and pull him to her. No, she wouldn’t stoop to begging. He turned to the mirror, patting the powder into his lips. “Good! The crowd will love it, always so attentive. The doors are open after performances, as always.” His eyes gleamed, the devilish glow of his one white eye gleaming in the muted warmness of this damnedly hot room. Could it compare to the warmth in Sister Imperator’s chest? 

The fuzziness she had felt moments earlier was extinguished in that single sentence, burned by the way she had to stop herself from reaching forward and throttling him right then and there. How stupid could a man be? She was stunned every single day by the utter idiocy of men, going from not knowing how to do laundry all the way to this. She let her face go blank, what other course of action was there? If she followed her emotions, Papa Nihil would be buried in a shallow grave behind this very club. To hold her in his hands, and then casually drop that he wanted to get his dick wet? 

Satan, maybe she should have listened to her mother and just become a lesbian in Boston instead. 

Sister straightened her posture. “Of course they’re always open.” she said coldly. Her hands folded in front of her. They’re always fucking open. 

His eyes look towards her, the grin still on his face but his eyes speak of something she can’t pin. She turns around, pushing through the throng of bodies with the force needed. Nihil has the right to his body, just as she does to her own. She could find any man in this glorified venue, pull them into an alcove and possibly cum. There’s no guarantee of that, she thought, fighting back the mocking laugh that wanted to tumble out of her mouth. 

But she won’t. She won’t do that. 

_____________________

The crowd was loud, though the indescribable energy that had pulsed in the room minutes earlier had fallen as the show had come to a close. Sister Imperator looked from the wings, Nihil was glorious. Sweat dripped from his chin, his eye gleaming in the stage lights as he pranced along the edge of the stage. His shirt was unbuttoned, the ringlets of hair soaked under the fabric. His boots were clinking against the floor, the pointed tips tapping in a calculated rhythm. Women were lined along the edge, their hair curled and their lashes stark against pastel blues and blush pinks. Pink blush against dark skin, similar beads of sweat lining their cleavage that was oh so pointedly pushed forward. All for Nihil. And she knew that he knew, regardless of if he had made the asinine comments earlier. 

She turned, walking along the dark corners. Stage hands were leisurely walking, some carrying side lights and some carrying cords, wrapped in loops and gingerly carried to storage closets nearby. She needed a cigarette before he came back there, shucking his coat off and waiting for women to fall to their knees before him, to curl up in his arms. 

She felt the familiar burn in her stomach of anger, of envy. Where the hell did she put her handbag again? She slid along the walls, feeling her way through the dark as her boots clicked along the waxed floor. The burn of eyes along her legs made her grimace, one more nuisance to deal with. Being honest with herself, all she wanted right now was to be curled up in her blankets back at the hotel, pleasantly sated and sweaty, held in Nihil’s arms and dozing in the glow of the television set. But no, she had to see him go back to his room with one, if not several , women running their hands along his thin body. 

She needed a cigarette.

The space opened, the stairs leading back to the green room intersection between a larger side door. She sighed, the flow of air leveling out in the space, away from sweaty rugged men. Reaching for the door, she felt the sweat at the nape of her neck go blessedly cold. A break was what she needed, it would be another hour or so before Sister had the opportunity to be completely alone with a nice glass of champagne. Damn it all, she’d pay for the room service her fucking self. The last thing she wanted after a night like this was the Clergy treasurer waking her up in the night wondering why they’d been notified by the hotel of another ‘useless’ purchase. 

Imperator leaned against the wall, the high collar of her patterned dress constricting the skin around her neck. She was lucky she had done her hair so high, the beehive allowing her to feel the cold air on her skin as best as she could. As best as she could, the thought mocked her. Out of all the times Nihil had fucked her into the bed, it had been her controlling his moves. Grabbing him by the hair and moans punching out from his throat, riding him until he cried from the sheer ecstasy of the orgasms rung from his overextended body, sucking him down in the shitty tour bus bunks when the ghouls had finally taken the message and left. And here he was, leering over the edge of the stage like he called the shots. 

Sister Imperator knew he couldn’t take initiative if it offered itself up with its legs spread. Why the hell would he start now, she lamented. 

The door to her left opened, the conversation high and energetic. As the door opened, she met the gaze of three women. Their conversation halted, noticing the woman on their right. She doesn’t look at their clothes, what point does it serve? They’re back here now and have come for a reason. At one point, she had made a point to memorize what they wore. How their belts cinched their waists, how their breasts spilled softly from their blouses in an appealing display of warmth. Not that she stewed on it, she would just have a bartender conveniently card them, or they would just so happen to lose their tickets. 

Her eyes meet with the first woman. She smiles, a warm if not curious smile. “Hey, sorry to bother, but could you point us in the direction of the dressing rooms?” Her smile is toothy, Imperator files this knowledge away. 

Sister crosses her arms, steeling her features into a cold impasse. “No, they don’t have one.” Her voice is oppressive. 

The other woman with a pale nude lip, stark against the darkness of her skin and softness of her cheeks blinks and screws her face in skepticism. The confusion is clear on her face. Here’s the thing about Sister Imperator: she doesn’t give two shits about her confusion. Sister is tired, her face baking under the powder she applied earlier that day, her feet burning from her platformed boots.

She’s not quite inclined to point these women towards Nihil and exclaim, “Here he is! His cock is always ready! Would you like condoms, or would you prefer to go raw? Both are enjoyable, I surely would know!” 

At this point in the night, she’s far more inclined to being difficult. 

“They don’t have a dressing room?” The first lady intones, her head tilting as she pouts in confusion. 

“Precisely.” Sister says dryly, her eyes narrowing. Her arms, still crossed tightly, allow her to tap her fingers along her arm in impatience. The woman laughs, smiling at Sister. She clearly hasn’t caught on that Sister Imperator would rather be anywhere but here, especially in front of these other women. 

“So does Papa just get changed in the hallways? That’d be a gas.” She giggles, leaning against the propped door. The other two women ignore her, exchanging a look that spelled their confusion more clearly than if they had spoken aloud. 

Sister scoffs sarcastically, her lips lifting in sardonic aggression. “Yes, it surely would be.” The last thing she wanted was a conversation, just let her get her fucking cigarettes, go home and have a good cry away from where anyone could see her. 

The woman smiles at her once more, looking forward and then turning her head back. “Do you know where he might actually be? We wanted to see him before we ditched here.”

Imperator can feel her smile tighten, shaking her head. Get the hint, lady, good fucking Lord. “He ditched earlier. You just missed him.” Her fingers still rap against her arm, the flickering lightbulb above making one of the other woman’s eye begin twitching. The toothy woman’s face falls, her smile twisting into a pout. 

“Bummer.” She sighs, turning back to retreat back through the door. The third woman, her eyes narrowed, lets her eyes run over Sister’s appearance. She scoffs in dismissal, turning back. But before Sister can sigh in relief, her night continues its downward spiral into her own foray into the question of her own sanity. 

The space is swallowed by the dark leather and painted face of Nihil himself, panting heavily. Though the sweat has been patted away from his face, his neck is red with exertion. Of fucking course. His eyes turned to her, and then to the three women currently staring at him with varying degrees of joy. 

“Oh, hello!” Nihil chimes, his eyes flicking to Sister and then the women once more. “I do not think we have had the pleasure of meeting, no?” The women smile at him, the one in the front walking forward and daringly placing a hand on his arm. 

“We were in the crowd, Papa. You were unreal!” She smiles at him, her toothy grin making his own smile widen. Sister watches as the other two women walk closer, closely inspecting his wide white eye that shined intriguingly off in the shaky light of the bulb above them. 

“Your eye is so beautiful, how do you get it like that?” The woman’s nude lips are wide, her arms wrapped around herself in a way that allowed her to push her tits further together. Sister frowned, her stomach roiling with annoyance. Good grief, just get it over with. Have him grab you by the hips and fuck you in his hotel room, leave the next morning and giggle about it with your girlfriends. 

“A gift, bella.” Nihil purred, his hand rising to cup the second woman’s face. Her eyes widen, her cheeks filling out with a flush as he giggles at her. As much as Sister wants to move, she can’t stop. She hadn’t been wooed, as much as she was loath to admit it. Always the one to walk forward first, she had led Nihil along like a puppy on a leash. Of course she loved it, admired how much he turned to her. Either for kindness or guidance, for a fuck on the road late at night, she remained. But had he ever cornered her backstage and let him lick the sweat from her neck without her gripping him by the lapel? 

“A gift? Not meaning to bug out or anything, but the speech you gave on stage was unreal. We’d love to hear more.” Ah, the usual segue. Begging for guidance on the Old One’s beliefs and then fucking at his metaphorical altar. She didn’t care anymore, she couldn’t stand to listen. It was one thing to see it at the hotel last month, another to hear him imply it earlier, but she couldn’t take the scene in front of her. 

Sister turned, pushing gently past the woman at his side and walking past the gaggle. She walks briskly down the way. 

“Mi dispiace belle signore , but I am unfortunately on a tight schedule. Perhaps you could ask one of the ghouls? I’m sure they would be more than happy to speak to such pretty fanciulle.” She can hear the groans of the other women, and the click of their heels as they walk away. The urge to pause and look is strong, but who knows why he did it? Nihil could have already got his rocks off with someone on the way, or the chance of another rendezvous already scheduled. Fool her once, shame on you. Fool her twice, shame on her. She’s already gotten through a third time, and a fourth would just be pathetic. 

She turns the corner to the dressing room, thankfully clear. The packing up tended to go quicker than setting up, so hopefully things were going to plan. Sister still needed to check in, but first she wanted a damn cigarette. She walks across the room, leaning against the couch and looking behind where she had kept it. A growl released from her throat, couldn’t she have anything go right tonight? She wouldn’t cry. She knew better than that. But the tightness in her throat was beginning to hurt, the anger from earlier receding. And the sickly green feeling in the pit of her stomach was back, mocking and ugly. 

A knock behind her, soft and gentle. She didn’t turn, knowing the click of his boot heels as familiar as her childhood home doorbell. 

“Tesoro?” A soft voice calls into the room, loud in the now silent room. Warm earlier with the countless bodies, the lack makes her skin cold under the long draped sleeves of her mini dress. Even adverse to the company of others, she wishes that someone was here to pillow the moment with a stranger's presence. 

“There’s no need to speak so quietly, Papa. We’re the only two here.” Sister says plainly, pushing the emotion out of her voice. All of this because of jealousy towards some fan? Out of all the shows she could have gotten upset over, this is the one? How demeaning. 

“I am aware we’re alone. I see you after all my shows, yes?” She doesn’t turn to look at him, but his hands come to her hips behind her. Imperator stills, the hot sticky feeling in her stomach still there. Why couldn’t she just let it go? Out of all the times she had seen the way he acted, why is now the time she chose to turn her back? 

“Not all of them.” The accusation hangs in the air, Nihil’s hands tight on her hips through the silk of the dress. The heat of his palm almost scalds her, he burns as hot as the sun, a constant inferno that scorches her when she touches him. It burrows into her flesh, finding nirvana in the way he fits inside her. The thought is swiftly cut off as he sighs into her ear, the shell warming with the outtake of breath. She doesn’t move. 

“Si, not all of them. Concerts can be stressful, after parties and such. But do I not come back to your bed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Imperator yanked herself out of his grip. She walks across the room, looking into the dressers of the cabinet for her purse. She could just get her purse and walk out, back to the hotel. As soon as this Ghost Project was over, she could go back to her comfortable office and deal with this from the back burner. No more Nihil, no more bastard children, no more goddamned groupies. 

“Indeed you do.” The words grind out of her mouth like a knife on stone, slamming the drawer closed and straightening up from where she had been crouched down. The heels click against the floor quickly, and she gasps once she feels the warmth of his torso pushed against hers, her back pushed against the dresser quickly. She can feel the ledge of the small desk pushed against the small of her back. Sister looks up towards him, the placid look on her face crumbling into something sour, and surly, and she has to stop herself from pushing him away and leaving without her purse. 

The words had never been said aloud by her. Late nights where she imagined Nihil fucking her with abandon, taking her from behind and treating her like one of the sweet little things that came to pray at his altar. It lingered in the atmosphere until she saw a scene like earlier, like a rubber band being pulled tighter and tighter until the middle burned hot from heat. White hot heat settled in between the space between her and Nihil, in the impasse of their stares. Always looking, across a room or when she kissed the overstimulated tears from below his eyes in the night. 

There is understanding finally in his eyes. The crystal clear realization that maybe his actions did matter, through the smoke and haze of the lights above him as he sang and crooned to women who had never even conceptualized an existence beyond a white picket fence. Maybe he had finally crossed the line that had always been there. 

(Maybe, everything has always been filled with maybes between the two of them). 

“ Innamorata… Maybe I have not been so attentive.” He says softly, his gaze never wavers. That infernal eye never moves from its impassive gaze. His hands grip her waist, and she glares. She feels it like a warm hand against her throat, and she banishes the thought. 

“Attentive? There are things you want… an inexperienced fuck in a cheap hotel room with a fan that doesn’t even know where her clit is. By all means, go for it.” She spits out, the words scraping out of her throat by the fine edge of a knife: the same knife has plunged into her back countless times during this tour. Pardoned by their own lord, sanctified in blood and sin, and here they were. 

“Oh? You think I don’t smell it, tesoro? It’s dripping off of you.” His hand slides from her hip to her cunt, a gasp ripping itself from her throat as he cups it softly through her dress. She knows him, knows the way his eye glows, the way his cock is pressed against her leg and how it throbs hot, hard, natural. Oh, and it feels good. Feels, she finds, even better as he rubs the palm of his hand against it. 

“Dripping off of you, dripping out of you? I can think of many things I want to fill you with.” Nihil chisels a space into the emptiness between them, rasping out a groan into her neck as the silk of her dress catches on slick between her legs. She should push him away, but it feels too good to have him take the lead. It’s burning, hotter than the fires of hell they pledge to have when they leave this mortal plane. When it all burns down, it is always captivating and aposematic.

Through the back and forth of his hand Imperator can feel him lean forward, his mouth latching onto the soft molten skin of her neck. He lifts his other hand not busied with the soft skin below, grabbing the burning flesh of her breast. She has to stop this, take control. She isn’t a woman begging to be let backstage, flashing her tits at the bouncer and hoping that he’ll press his face between her legs. His mouth is an ember compared to the blaze in his eyes, lavascapes in the stark whiteness of blue and white. She could burn, she realized, but she leans into the hand pressing into her softest places. 

Papa’s mouth is soft against the dewy skin of Sister’s neck, the paint so delicately applied earlier is no doubt a parting gift against the paleness of her skin. His breath ghosts against her skin, pulling away. And she pouts at the loss, ichor rushing through her veins. She never quite understood the meaning of hunger until she met Nihil, a hunger for a man and not power. He rips open a vacuum inside of her, a festering hole that is utterly insatiable. A constant ache that drives her delirious with the urge to consume him with her gaping maw. Rapacious charm, never full. 

“How long have you wanted this? For me to take you like a slut?” The words drag over his tongue, and she’s alarmed by the moan pushing its way from her mouth. No, this has never happened. A step closer, her blood burns. The green feeling in her stomach has uprooted itself, destroyed in the endless warmth of his gaze. From where it had been clotted in her throat, for months upon months on tour, and it’s gone. 

He smiles, leaning down and finally taking her mouth in his. His lips are firm, pressing against hers with a deliberate force that she hasn’t experienced. Is this what these women have been packing at the door for? They had surely kissed, but it was her biting and forcing her way into the soft cavern of his mouth. But at this moment, his mouth doesn’t rest. She presses against him, her arms reaching around his neck and pulling him closer. Her hands shake around his neck, the pulsing of wetness and warmth between her legs dizzying. It jars her, head gummy and full of sin. These women wanted this. 

Their mouths press together, Nihil’s tongue pushing against hers in a sloppy push and pull of slickness. He tastes like sin, cigarettes and the heady tang of peppermint gum. He’s rough, a palpable hunger that pulls the last threads of jealousy from her mind. Papa pulls away, his eyes sharper than Sister had ever seen them. A yawning abyss of knowledge, and then she remembers. Women came to him for a reason, an unknown that would snap at the tips of their fingers if they got too close. And Nihil smiles, his hips pushing against hers and a sigh falling past his parted lips. It’s messy, adrenaline from onstage clearly pulsing through the fog of his mind. 

“Do I interest you? Is that why you haven’t set me aside?” His voice is harsh, his eyes lidded and heavy. 

“I could ask the same.” Her head is a slurry of pleasure, her clit throbbing where it meets the harsh bulge of his cock and the back and forth of silk against her body. It’s messy, less defined than anything she had ever allowed to happen. The backstage fumblings of curious women and- 

“Shush.” He makes a noise, condescending and somehow sweet like a cocktail at the dingy bars they had performed at. It punches into her, makes her gasp. Her hips stutter, she’s never seen a sight more damning. If she had been more stupid, she could imagine herself in a crowd. Peering up at him, a smile tugging at her lips and watching him thrust against the mic stand. And by Satan, she realizes it. The brutality of it makes her crush her lips against his, tongue sliding against the wetness of his own slippery muscle. There is embarrassment of course, and there is shame. But she wants it, the horrible emptiness inside of her that wants to let him treat her like a slut. A groupie begging on her knees, her back, for his tongue and cock to complete her. 

His hands return to her hips, lifting her onto the desk without breaking the kiss. The embers spar, blazing, when he deepens the kiss and presses the bulge of his cock into her pussy. She shivers, a whole body chill that has her breaking the kiss and moaning into the air. “Please.” It’s a plea, a whimper that she has never once spoken aloud to Nihil. And the way he chuckles, biting her lip with ravenous hunger that reminds her of the blood that courses through his veins, has her pushing back against him. She can’t resist, she wouldn’t even try. 

“Oh, please?” His voice sings, a derisive coo that makes her keen. He pulls back, his hands lifting her dress to reveal the pale pink briefs beneath. Nihil crouches, kneeling before her and running his hands over her soft thighs. A sigh, and a kiss pressed against the pliable porcelain before him. He had spent hours before, his head pressed between her thighs while she gripped his hair in a domineering grip as she took her pleasure from him. But now simply gripped the edges of the table, her wide eyes meeting his as he grazes his knuckles against the soft skin. Nihil sighs, shaking his head. 

“Have you thought about my head between their legs, tesoro?” The question is clipped, a grin on his face as he lets his palm glide up and down her legs. A hesitant nod, and her legs quake as Papa Nihil presses a kiss to her inner thigh. He lathes his tongue over the small scar at the influx of her thigh. Another whimper pours out as he peppers kisses against her, and she can’t tear her eyes away from his cocky grin. She should hate this, should be pulling him away and reprimanding him for taking control. But with the way he grips her thighs and the way she drips onto the table, she knows she loves this. Sister mewls as Nihil inches further, his eyes meeting her own. 

“I will take my pleasure from you the same as I do from them.” He murmurs, his mouth latching onto her skin. Her hands grip into the desk tightly, keening as he meets her gaze. “A powerful woman, la mia dea. But a slut all the same, begging for my cock.” He growls, and she moans as he presses the flat arch of his painted nose against her clit, his tongue tracing circles into the slickness of her pussy. 

Moans fill the silence of the room, muffled groaning and the slick movement of his mouth against her creating a back and forth cacophony of sin. Nihil’s hands against her thighs continue their back and forth as he takes his fill, his eyes closed in satisfaction. Sister whines as the sucking against her clit intensifies, his tongue swiping against her entrance. The hand against her leg moves, a finger dropping and dipping lightly at her dripping cunt, lightly swirling around the slickness collecting there. She bites her lip, catching the moan that bubbles out of her throat at the way he slurps at her cunt. 

His eyes shoot open, meeting her own with his mismatched gaze. He pulls back, his mouth unlatching from her pulsing clit while his fingers continue toying with her. “Don’t keep your noises from me, I want to hear.” Papa’s finger slides inside, and Sister chokes out a gasp. “Do you think these women hold back their pleasure? Have you not pulled similar noises from me while you choke down my cock, tesoro? ” She should be angry, she thinks to herself, but she can hardly think after he pushes two fingers into her utterly drenched entrance. He grazes a knuckle against a spot inside her, a high moan punching out of her throat as her walls flutter around him. 

“Nihil, I-” Sister Imperator gasps, her lips swollen and her lipstick rubbed off even earlier than now. He pulls his fingers away, and she moans in complaint. His eyes blaze with ire, his frown making her stomach clench in distraught anticipation. He rubs his fingers over her entrance, toying with the slick collected there. 

Nihil shakes his head, pressing a chaste kiss to her clit. “That is not my name. What am I called?” She whines, thinking back to the times they’ve fucked. It had been either Nihil, slut, or even my love. Never had it been- 

“Papa.” She whispers, his lips raising in appreciation. To everyone else, it’s Papa. His fingers slide back inside, the curls of his breath over her soaked pussy making her eyes roll back. Her hair knocking against the wall was probably a mess, her once perfect beehive now more of a honeycomb. While his tongue sucks against her raised clit, his fingers continue to coax burning pleasure that made her thighs shake. She can feel her lips are bitten raw, her knees pressed against her chest and exposing herself to him entirely. She should blush, she’s sure everyone else does, but his huffs and moans of pleasure persuade her to moan. 

She whimpers, and all thoughts are stuck in the burning mess in her head, rendered out into ashes and into cries for Papa, for more. It’s all a puddle of bliss, including her. His fingers brush against a spot inside that makes her cry out, a wail that she’s sure can be heard outside of the room. The thought is knocked out of her head as the pads of his fingers bump into it again, coupled with Papa’s tongue swiping against her bud. Oh, how she needed this, for him to just show that he knew how to please. 

She feels his lips curl against her clit and a muffled chuckle that makes her gasp, Coy, sweet, the type of mocking grin that he shot the crowd at the end of his show. He pulls back, fingers pistoning against her fluttering pussy, “Are you going to cum already, cara ? I thought you were a seasoned slut, opening your legs for any man with an ounce of talent?” He chuckles darkly, timbre drenched in sex and promise. She grits her teeth, eyes narrowing in a defiant glare that dissolves as he begins to softly lap at her clit. Sister wants to scoff, to roll her eyes but the breadth of his shoulders spreading her legs wide and the ministrations on her cunt cut the words on her tongue short. 

He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, lapping softly and moaning against it as he closes his eyes. The makeup around his mouth is smeared, his lips shining with her slick and his spit. His mouth is molten, and she can feel her weeping hole clench around his fingers. It’s hot, the high collar of her dress collecting sweat. It’s messy, the opposite of the nakedness she was used to with him. Debauched, wanton, desperate for him. The desperation is tangible.

“Show me how much you want my cock.” He growls into her cunt, nuzzling his cheek into her thigh as his fingers increase their speed. Imperator moans, her thighs shaking as she feels her climax approach much more quickly than usual. At the speed of his fingers, she can feel the delicious burn of pleasure that nears so deliciously into pain, a wire pulled taut and begging to be released. She arches, canting her hips greedily into his mouth. If he weren't so intent on making her cum, she’s sure he would be grinning like the damn dirty tease he is. 

A particular curl of his fingers sends her over the edge, his tongue laving over her clit and his fingers fucking dangerously harshly against the sweet spot inside of her that has her choking out a moan. She can feel the rings of cum wetting her thighs, the spit that coats her lower half. She can’t help but whimper when she crests the wave, an embarrassing litany of pleads for her Papa, a melted husk of a woman drunk on the high of her orgasm. 

Sister can feel the way he presses kisses into her thighs, the way his fingers have been pulled out of her and she cries at the need for him inside of her. Nothing where she rides him for control, where he begs and whimpers for her to let him cum. She lets her eyes fall open, a quavering moan from her mouth whenever she witnesses him suck her cum from his fingers. His eyes blaze as he stands above her, his mouth stretched wide into a grin that makes her heart swell.

Sister’s eyes flick down, where his bulge pushes against the black leather of his bellbottoms. Her hands shoot forward and reach for the laces, if not a bit clumsily trying to pick apart the laces. She knows he aches for it, and can feel him twitching against the confines of his trousers. His hand drops down, and Papa smiles down at her with a fond, if not condescending, smirk. 

Her hands pull the laces apart, a joined moan between the two of them as his swollen cock pops out. The head of his cock is red, smeared with sticky spend at the tip that aids her as she begins to pump him leisurely. He sighs, a hand gathering in her hair as she looks up at him. “You do such a good job pleasing Papa, you know?” She nods quickly, her hand not slowing. Just as she finds a rhythm, his hands have shot out to stop her. The hardness of his cock in her hand makes the emptiness inside her known, aching even. He steps between her legs, craning her head upward towards him. 

“Will you let Papa fuck you?” He whispers, stepping forward to rub his cock against her soaked folds. A whine forces its way from her throat. God, she just wants him, any way at any time. To say she’s been denying it would be an understatement. She needed him, wanted him near her always. It’s easy to worship him, she thinks to herself through the delirious haze of his weight against her cunt. Easy to kiss offerings into his skin, sing a hymn of praise into the dips of his neck.

“Yes, Papa.” A whisper, heavy and breathless. The way she addresses him makes him moan helplessly, and there’s nowhere else to burn eternally than with one another. Leaning closer, the head of his cock nudges inside her, popping in with such ease that it makes the both of them pause in the sheer buzz of skin on skin. Sister leans back, allowing herself to moan as she feels the heavy weight of him inside her. Nihil chokes on his gasp, pushing slowly inside of her. The head of his dick pushing against something soft in her cunt that makes her clench around him with a whimper. 

The cloying feeling of him on top of her, inside her, makes her keen. Why had she fought this for so long, for the treatment he gave other women? The very feeling of him inside her is dizzying, the way he hovers above her with a self satisfied smile makes her match it. The fuzzy feeling in her stomach returns, her heart lifting from the well it had drifted to earlier. Control was something she had vied for, and couldn't let go. The ebb and sway of how he would let her control him, and this is where he got his kicks. Maybe now he could find his respite within her as well. 

Nihil moans, rolling his hips into hers in a way that makes her eyes roll back. The thrusts are slow, a back and forth that knocks the air from her lungs in the most delicious way. Each time he retreats he comes back home, the tip of his cock kissing the place inside of her that makes her legs lock around his waist tightly. Strings of pleasure lick up her spine, her nipples hard underneath the fabric of her dress. She can smell the heady smell of sex in the air, the wetness between the two of them slick in the cool air of the dressing room. Maybe everyone would hear, hear how he fucked her like a woman, like any woman out there in the crowd. 

His hair is soft beneath her hands, moussed from the sweat of the stage and his lingering adrenaline and the many times she had already gripped it in the space between the two of them. 

“So good for me, you take me so well Sister,” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against her lips in a salacious lick against bitten lips. He tips his head forward as Sister clenches around him, his thrusts grinding his cock into her pussy in a way that makes white hot pleasure tickle her spine. She combs over his face, his perfectly debauched makeup sliding down the smoothness of his skin. A thought passes about what he may look like when he’s older, how the makeup will pool in a similar way perhaps. 

As she clenches around him his dick twitches in agreement, his eyes lidded in pleasure as he continues to fuck her. A hazardous grin spreads across his smeared lips when he catches her gaze, his eyes sweeping over her bent form as he continues to fuck her, spread out and stretched over his thick cock. Anyone can hear her, she realizes, can hear how badly she wants her Papa to fill her cunt, to make her cum, how good he is at making women achieve hedonistic pleasure. A star frontman, an experienced lover. 

He grins, and she can feel his cock brush against a soft spot inside of her that makes her positively wail. His hand drops from where it’s clenched around her thigh, thumb swiping over her clit and she groans, needy and breathless. Sister’s hips work with his own, Nihil’s hips knocking against the silky walls of her cunt. His head brushes deep, her back arching in pleasure that makes her quiver in a profoundly intense ache. As his hand works over her throbbing clit and his hips batter against the meat of her ass, Nihil leans over. A kiss pressed to her neck, a stream of moans into her ear dredged up from a place of love and desperation. 

“Will you cum for me?” A whisper into her ear, a fervent nod answered back. Her heart flutters, a taut softness as she feels her toes curl. It pinches taut as he angles his hips, tendrils of pleasure as he pushes his cock further in. In a moment like this, she couldn’t give a damn about a groupie, some faithless devotee. The devotion is right here and right now, between the one at the altar and the abnormality present. 

“Please. I want to be your whore,” Sister whispers, haze filling the curtain of her gaze as she feels the pleasure ratcheting higher and higher. Papa Nihil feels similarly, she knows this, the desperate high moans against her neck as he visibly fights the urge to call out for her like normal. 

A vicious swipe against her clit sends her over, liquid bliss spuming deep within her and setting her off. The rhythmic clenching of her softness around his cock makes him gasp, his breath choked in her throat as he cums deep inside her. She sighs, eyes slipping closed as he sighed against her neck. Her hands rose to his back, slow careful swipes of her hands on his shirt as he heaved for air. 

The air was warm, and she could feel their shared spend dripping down from her hole onto the floor. The sickly green feeling in her stomach was gone, filled with the deliciously delightful feeling of Nihil in her arms, his hands warm against her waist. When he quiets by the end of her gentle petting, the mushy misty eyed look in her eyes won’t leave. An odd juxtaposition for a woman who could bring Nihil down to size in a matter of moments. 

“You don’t suppose I could have a cigarette after this?” She mumbled, smiling softly as she heard a muffled laugh against her neck. Pulling back, they looked at one another. His makeup was ruined, as was hers most likely. Though they still had the drive back to the hotel to fare with, nothing delighted her more than knowing she could curl up in bed delightfully moisturized and nestled against Nihil. And looking into his eyes, she knew he was just as enchanted at the ending of their night together. His hand drifted to her cheek, his eyes soft in a way that made her stomach flip. 

“Never again, Genevieve. I promise.” And she knew he wasn’t talking about cigarettes. He whispered, a delicate kiss pressed against the tip of her nose. His hand was warm, and she leaned into the soft embrace of it against her dreadfully sweaty cheek. Although her heart jumped at her given name, the irony of it in her current religion a mockery to her sensibilities, Sister sighed.

The sickly feeling of envy an ever looming fear now, she knew she could push through. Though he had two children now, the fear of a third, even a fourth was gone. He was hers, and she was his, even through the possibility of another Prime Mover. Satan forbid a groupie try to coax their way into his pants in the future. 

The thought passed with a drop of disdain in her eyes, and a smile making its way onto her kiss swollen lips. All these months of sweat soaked nights on a bumpy bus, a hand held out in a busy afterparty, the soft breath against her neck as she held him close. A hand held in another hand with care, with no fear to be found. 

“Of course. Never again.” 

[historyofglee]

On this day in 2009:

Glee season 1, episode 3 “Acafellas” aired.

Written by Ryan Murphy and directed by John Scott, the episode was originally watched by 6.69m viewers in the United States.

1x03 featured 5 new cover songs- This Is How We Do It, Poison, Mercy, Bust Your Windows, and I Wanna Sex You Up.

The episode also introduced special guest star Josh Groban as himself, and guest starred Victor Garber as Mr Schuester, Debra Monk as Mrs Schuester, John Lloyd Young as Henri St Pierre, and Whit Hertford as Dakota Stanley.