#i heard it clang and started howling

[mermen]

dropped a wrench off a 12 foot ladder onto the aircraft elevator (sensitive part!!!!) below me. right in front of my professor. but he didn't get mad at me

[kabr0ztrousers]

Hiya, didn't wanna leave your asks dry for too long :3c

Fem hunter who's been trying to trap something terrorizing the village, only to realize she's the one caught in it's trap. (Maybe some knotting and overstim on both sides?)

I'll let you work your magic, Your Horniness~

Let's see if you can figure out which property this was almost fanfic of

Kabr0z Writes Episode 36: Hunter, Hunted

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: noncon; physical force; violence; knotting; overstim; creampie; transformation; Interspecies;

A/N: Still some asks in the box, including one that I'm definitely getting 2 unrelated stories out of, but don't let that stop you sending in requests! It might be a few days until they happen but I'm endeavouring to write something for basically every ask I get

Now without further ado:

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You lay another trap, wafting a bunch of smouldering twigs over it to mask your scent before moving on. Whatever was in these woods, it was bigger than a man and killing sheep. The villagers brought you in to put a stop to it before it started hunting villagers. You grasped the holy sigil dangling from a cord between your breasts. You were going to destroy this monster, failing that you knew a dozen binding spells to stop it doing any more hand.

A trap snapped shut, not far from you. You'd not even finished laying them all and already something's been caught. You took your scourge off your belt, the many barbed whips coiled in your hand, ready to strike as you stalked through the forest to where you heard the clang of the metal jaws.

The trap was empty. It had definitely been triggered by something, the bait was gone, but whatever took it was still around. You stayed in the shadows, the matte leather of your hunting garb disguising you despite the omnipresent full moon hanging in the sky. Your hand drew to the sigil again as you said a silent prayer for protection. The Angel was dead, of course, but it helped ease your mind. Few enough people even wear her symbol any more, not since the horror was trapped in the moon, but she saved you once and you had faith she'd do so again.

Another trap sprung, from the direction you'd came. You set off towards it. Moving quickly and silently, you avoided the moonlight. This time a clump of coarse fur was left in the jaws of the trap. This was probably a werewolf at work.

There wasn't any howling, it must be alone. You wondered if it's by choice or if it's newly turned and not been adopted by a roving pack yet. It's certainly still got enough of itself left that it knows how a bear trap works. That doesn't bode well for you.

You squeezed the weapon in your hand, the leather of the handle creaking as it pressed against the straps. Stepping closer to the trap you could see tracks, digitigrade feet taking long strides. Well formed pawpads. Stride length suggests something like seven or eight feet tall.

An experienced wolf, then. Shit.

You started backing towards the tree behind you, making sure to step in your footprints to avoid any errant snapping of twigs.

You bumped into something.

It wasn't a tree.

You spun, releasing the thongs of your scourge to lash it across the beast. You weapon struck true, vicious spines lashing across your mark. A sheep, freshly disemboweled.

It hit you. Eight feet and three hundred pounds of apex predator swept you off your feet and carried you a dozen feet or more. The tree you hit splintered on impact. The beast threw you. You hit another tree and slid down the trunk.

You could only sit there and cough up blood as the monster loped over to you. It tore open your shirt, bearing the silver mark. A guttural, growling laugh rumbled from the beasts maw.

"A dead protector, for a dying hunter. Fitting."

It grasped the symbol and tore it off you, the cord snapping like dry grass. You could smell searing meat where the beasts flesh touched the silver before it threw the totem away.

"I'm going to hurt you, then I'm going to turn you"

The monster grabbed your face in both hands and dragged you towards it. The cracked bones made you gasp in pain. The beast took advantage of your open mouth, pushing your face to its sheath and humping madly. Your head filled with his musk, the scent and the pain killing any thoughts that weren't about the rapidly growing cock being thrust against your face, painting you with precum, marking you as his. The cock slipped into your mouth again and again, the fluid coating your tongue and throat, making you choke and gag at the sheer amount of the salty pre flooding your senses.

He pulled you up properly, turning you around and holding you upright by your bruised waist. The broken bones grated against one another as you barely balanced, waves of pain coaxing you to delerium.

His claws tore the crotch out from your trousers, pushing aside your undies he lowered you onto him. You felt your mouth gape and your eyes bulge as the cock stretched you open. He was still humping even as he dropped you on him, his hips moving with a life of their own forcing him deeper inch by inch until he was buried in you, his knot already starting to swell and plug you up

The best drew you to his chest, hips bucking and pumping. The sensation of the thick knot bouncing in you, stretching your opening then jamming upwards again and again was making you sweat, the feeling of orgasm overwhelming the pain from your battered and broken body as you rode the first wave.

Your voice was weak, you could barely hear your moaning into his chest.

That's when he bit you.

His fangs sank into the meat of your shoulder, breaking the skin and drawing rivulets of blood. He staggered into the moonlight and let it bathe your skin.

The curse set in fast. Your cracked ribs set themselves and knit together. The tooth marks on your skin closed and faded as a thin fuzz of fur sprouted from every inch of your skin. Your legs cracked and reversed, your knees breaking and re-setting with a sickening crunch.

You barely felt it.

The moonlight brought something else. A heat rising in you. Your arms wrapped around the other wolf's chest as you drove your pelvis into his. You were desperate for him, and you didn't care about anything else. You toppled him as you started fucking yourself on his knot, hearing his grunts turn to yips as his overstimulated cock pumped more and more cum into you. You were a wolf now, just like him, and you'll be damned if you're not gonna make him your bitch.

Your fingers pressed and rubbed against your clit as you groped one of your tits, drawing you to orgasm after orgasm as you bounced on him. They were starting to hurt, your muscles cramping up despite their newfound power, your tortured nub sending waves of discomfort along with the pounding satisfaction.

At last you fell on him, the cold light of dawn starting to fill the sky above you, that full moon still hanging in vigil over the world

You're one of them now. A hunter in the dark. A beast to be feared.

#####################################

Thanks again, Anon, for the wonderful request

And thank you, dear reader, if you click my profile and leave a request of your own! Limits are in the pinned comment, but I don't bite and I don't charge!

I'm looking to do another 330-ish of these so I need all the requests I can get!

[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY

Part 2

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence

Summary: You confront your husband, the emperor of Rome, of his sickness.

You leaned back in your chair. The bracelets on your arm clanging loudly as you moved, showing off your riches with just such noise.

Your husband was right in front of you, yet his mind miles away. It was always away when the people in the coliseum roared as they saw a persons eye get gutted out of his head. He would howl with them as well.

You did not care so much for this marriage was not out of love but Marcus. Dare not ever call him that, Caracalla has been different these past moons.

So there you were, starring intensely at your husband back trying to figure him out.

…

“More food, my lady?” A servant came up with a tray of grapes, all laid out neatly with additional touches of green that was obviously there for decoration purposes.

You didn’t say anything and put up your hand and shooed him away, you were occupied anyways as Caracalla finally sat back down next to you.

He smacked his chair and gave a chuckle, “did you see that?” “I did.” You said plainly, looking straight ahead. He frowned, “you don’t seem excited by that?” You turned your head to him finally, looking into his eyes. You tried to seem something there but there wasn’t.

“No, I have just seen better battles.”

He scooted back more into his chair, trying to get comfortable in his seat. “You’re right.” He agreed with you, “It has only just begun though, don’t fret my dear.”

Your eyes drew back to the sandy arena floor, dust flying up as people tried to dodge other attacks. The clink of metal on metal and the blood dowsing in the sun, it gave you no entertainment as it did to him. It happened so often, how are they not bored of it?

Your fingers absentmindedly tapped against the armrest, the cold clink of your bracelets and rings brought you back.

“You seem bored.” Caracalla frowned at you. You didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between each other. Shifted in your seat, eyeing him once more, his posture relaxed, yet his eyes gleamed with a hunger you never quite understood.

“I suppose I am.” Playing with your rings as you let out a sigh. “Caracalla's gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he gave a short laugh. "You always were different. I suppose as well.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You don't care for the blood, do you?"

Your head turned as well to meet him again. You two were very close now and his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin.

The crowd went up again and his brother, Geta started to shout ferociously, almost as if he was fighting them down there as well. The sound broke you two apart.

His smile didn’t falter as he straightened in his chair, but there was something in his gaze—something that made the hair on the back of your neck stand. "You don't like the blood," he repeated, quieter now, as if testing something. Noticing him slowly disappearing more and more into his mind.

"You know, it's not the blood," you replied, your voice low and deliberate, "It's what comes after it."

He definitely heard you but decided not to pay attention to you anymore and decided to lean against the railing watching the show below unfold.

———

You did not see your husband, Caracalla until later that night, long after the sun had set and the games were done for the day. The moon shining bright and cooling everyone of the hot day in Rome.

Back in your chamber with the windows open. The wind blowing through your silk gown right in the moonlight’s direction. Looking out into the beautiful streets and hearing bells ring and children laughing. It was the only peaceful part of the day you would get.

It reminded you of home.

Nor did you care when you heard footsteps enter into the room. "Are you still angry?" Caracalla voice was low, tinged with amusement, though you could tell he was testing the waters.

Your head tilted a bit and your eyes lingered on the marble floor. “I never was.” Keeping your voice quiet and steady. For a moment, he said nothing, only watching you. His usual presence was like a shadow, but tonight it felt like he wasn’t even there.

"You always do this," Caracalla’s voice broke the stillness, soft but tinged with something darker. He had moved closer now, though still keeping a careful distance, as if measuring the space between you both. "You retreat into silence like a stranger in your own home. You’ve always been so... aloof. Cold, even."

You wanted to scoff at him. To throw the vase on the table at him. You knew better than this though, you’ve played this game your whole life. You had played it with your father. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your emotions. "I don’t retreat, Caracalla," you replied, your voice calm, though it held a trace of something sharper beneath it. “Something seems off with you these days, I fear.” You held your hands close to your chest for some comfort.

He breath became fast and he narrowed his eyebrows for a second. “Is this why you can’t look at me?” He raised his voice higher yet you did not flinch one bit.

“No.” You said.

He stepped closer to you to talk quietly yet anger was still in his body, it has always been there, a whisper in the night air. "Then what is it? What do you see when you look at me?"

You shifted slightly, the silk of your gown rippling with the motion, "I see a man who has everything, yet still wants more," you said softly, the words as sharp as the cold marble beneath your feet.

Caracalla paused, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, the silence between you both growing heavy. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might lash out, the fury in him barely contained. Yet, he remained still, his lips pressed tight together as he absorbed your words.

"You always were good with words," he muttered, you stood unmoving, your back to the open window, the cool night air sweeping through the room as the distant sounds of Rome's nightlife echoed faintly in the background. The weight of his gaze was palpable, as though it was trying to break through the carefully constructed walls you had built between you and him.

"What do you want, Caracalla?" You said those words very loudly. You weren’t afraid speaking out against him. “You are not yourself these days, you are restless in your sleep and crave blood more than ever…”

He looked down at the ground and almost began to shout. “It is my brother! He blames me for everything I’ve ever done!” His voice pleased and aching. You’ve seen him like this before, but never this serious. Yet, you don’t believe he’s telling the full truth, or at least he knows the full truth.

You drop your hands to your side and step close to him, your silhouette leaving the silver moonlight that touched you. You brush your hand into his hair and look at him, holding his head. Your rings felt cold against his skin but he did not mind it.

“You are the emperor.” You spoke softly, trying to calm him down. He had always been out there but you’ve always yet had a soft heart and it aches for him right now.

His eyes were stinging from holding back tears yet he did not shed any. He did not speak for he did not seem weak but he has a sickness of the mind and you knew it, Geta knew it, the senate knew it and damn that monkey probably knew it as well. You just kept denying it and he does not see it.

“It’s not enough. It will never be enough.” He whispered and turned his head to break away from your hands. Leaving the cold air to touch them again. Maybe you should’ve kept that window closed.

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 1.26

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: N/A really Word Count: 1,318

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The reaction was instant when you heard the crash. Everyone in the room with you from your place in the lobby ran up to the blocked front entrance to the building to sneak a peek through the gate.

A clanging noise is what brought your attention away from the wall you were glaring at as if you could see through it to where Jin-ok had walked in with a handful of pipes and other makeshift weapons. “Take these. We have to protect this place,” she told the three men all huddled up against the gate. You felt two pairs of small hands grip onto your clothes and didn’t even need to look down to see it was your two younger siblings. You wrapped your arms around them just as Jin-ok approached you and handed you your axe. “Take them somewhere safe and stay there. Protect them.”

You knew what she wasn’t saying because it’s what you were thinking as well. 

‘At all costs.’

So you grabbed Yeong-su’s hand while he grabbed Su-yeong’s and you tugged them over to the safest place you could think of.

It was only after an hour or so had passed, when the sun was starting to fade over the horizon and all the growls and howls and bangs had stopped, that you were found by Eun-yu when she came looking for you. After that, you immediately went off in search of Hyun-su only to find him sleeping against a filing cabinet in a secluded room. 

You watched as his chest rose and fell a few times just to give yourself some peace of mind before ultimately deciding to leave him alone for the night and get some sleep yourself after a quick shower.

You didn’t sleep for very long when Eun-yu somewhat drunkenly woke you up. 

“It’s story time! Don’t be a bum, come and hang out with us!” She whined and you laughed, reluctantly agreeing and listening to Gil-seop tell his scary story. You didn’t want to be rude to him or Eun-yu, but you were falling asleep more and more with each word. 

BANG!

The door to the daycare slammed open and you jolted awake with a yelp. Everyone had a similar reaction as they saw the unknown new man walk in and dash straight for the drained jar of Korean wine. He greedily ate scoop after scoop of the marinated berries at the bottom. Yi-kyung walked up behind him like a mother following her wandering child and sighed. 

“Who are you?” Mr. An demanded while holding up a metal pipe. 

“I think he’s a runaway soldier,” Yi-kyung explained her theory. 

The soldier pushed the jar away from him when he saw the mess it made on his hands and started mumbling incoherently before falling to his side and passing out. 

Everything seemed to blur as they took him into another room and everyone settled in for bed until you found yourself aimlessly wandering the dimly lit halls with a candle. Your side still hurt so it was more of just stumbling around while using the wall to help you, but you’d be damned if you woke someone up to help you have a midnight stroll. 

You’d be damned if the perfect person you could ask wasn’t sitting on the staircase you were walking straight towards. 

Hyun-su looked to be lost in his thoughts while staring at his wrist before you announced your presence with a small, “Hey.”

He looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You stumbled over, using the rail of the stairs to help you as you ascended and sat a level above him, placing the candle you held between the two of you. “Hey,” he replied, a little too late for the conversation but you decided to ignore it in hopes of not embarrassing him. 

“You shouldn’t be alone without a buddy, you know,” you teased. “I’m walking around without a buddy because both my official and unofficial buddies are passed out, drunk, in the daycare.”

“Are you scared?” He asked you after a beat. 

You sighed, thinking about your answer before saying it. “I don’t think so. Not for myself, anyway. I’m more scared about what will happen to Yeong-su and Su-yeong, to be honest,” you shot him a non-committal smile. “Hopefully, when this is all over, they can go back to living a semi-normal life.”

“Do you… think there will be a time after this?” He questioned rather pessimistically with his head down. 

The silence went on for a while until you decided to break it with an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Hey, give me your phone.”

“Huh? What? Why?” He asked in return and you flashed him a cheeky smile. 

“Just do it. Just for a minute,” you insisted. He reached into his pocket and placed the unlocked phone in your extended hand. “Thank you,” you expressed as you searched around before settling on the Contacts app. “How about after all this…” You spoke as you typed, sounding a little distracted before finishing. “You give me a call and we can meet up, yeah?” You handed the phone back to him with a shy grin. 

He took it back, staring at you for a moment before he glanced down at the cracked screen. There, he saw your name with a heart emoji written into his contacts. He was stunned, just staring at the phone until you gasped, remembering something and snatching the phone back out of his hands. 

“Oh! I forgot to put a picture in! Hold on,” you insisted as you opened up the camera and held it up, fixing your hair and wiping a stray drop of blood from your cheek. Then, you scooted closer to Hyun-su, who had been stating his thoughts at you in bewilderment and awe and held the phone up to take a picture. “Say cheeseeee!” You took the photo, smiling brightly at the phone, but when you looked at it your smile turned into a frown. “Hyun-su! You weren’t even looking at the camera!” You complained, turning to look at him and finding him already looking at you. 

He sneaked a glance at the photo and couldn’t help the stuttering of his heart when he saw it. You looked just absolutely gorgeous with your smile. Sure, he wasn’t looking at the camera - instead looking at you with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips - but it was 100% worth it for that joyful look on your face in the photo and the adorable pout you sported as you looked at him in real life. “It’s perfect.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his soft tone and tried to huff it away as you started making it your contact photo. “I wish you would’ve looked at the camera though.”

He couldn’t help the warm feeling that grew in his chest, and he honestly didn’t really want to. When you handed the phone back to him, he spent a long moment just staring at the screen, admiring the way your smile was brighter than the phone itself. 

He only broke out of his trance when your pinkie suddenly interlocked with his. “What are you doing?”

Your lips shaped a shy smile and the sight tugged at his heartstrings. “You’re making a promise to me. Promise me you’ll call me when this has all cleared. Please.”

He couldn’t deny you when you sounded like that, so he minisculely tightened his grip around your pinkie. “I promise.”

He said it so softly you thought you would have fainted on the spot if his touch wasn’t grounding you. With your shy smile growing even shier, you pressed your thumbs together with a soft giggle and a whisper, “Promise.”

Neither of you truly knew what the feelings growing inside you between each other were, but neither of you wanted it to go away anytime soon.

[epicthemusical]

What if after Odysseus literally stabbed Poseidon in rage in the Vengeance Saga he then actually process the fact that Poseidon BEGGED for mercy, then Odysseus remembers Polities and Open Arms and has a breakdown from what he was become. They both then have to comfort each other. would be more impacting if Odysseus stabbed Poseidon more than in the musical actually making Poseidon cry...

so i dont fully like this but i have other prompts to get to so i thought i could share it anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Odysseus screams loud enough to be heard even above the howling winds and crashing waves. Every word and every stab is driven by 20 years of suffering and pent up emotion. He rages for everything he has gone through and everything he has lost, all the time stolen from him. He ignores the pleas for him to stop, he refuses to stop until he is home and he will crush every obstacle in his way no matter what he needs to do. Poseidon deserves to suffer and feel a portion of Odysseus own pain. He deserves to- "Alright! Please-"

A flash of a memory, a call of Captain in a similar wounded raspy voice that sounds like choking on blood.

He pauses his assault breathing heavy the trident dripping gold. The wind and waves calm and all his rage and adrenaline draining away with it. The trident slips from his grip landing on the rough rocks with an echoing clang. His shaky legs give way as he falls to his knees the rocks tearing into skin pain barely felt.

Odysseus stares at the sight of Poseidon laying across gold splattered rocks tears mixing with golden blood as every movement brings more pain. He finds his vision blurry and wonders when he had started to cry. He doesn't really know how he should feel at this moment, satisfaction maybe for finally avenging those who had been killed or perhaps pride at managing to break down a God. He should at least feel relief at being able to finally go home but all he can feel is hollow grief. Home is close true but will it really be him who returns?

I see a man who gets to make it home alive but it's no longer you.

His body makes known every throbbing ache and pain he had pushed aside as the he shivers at the soaked through clothes. Every muscle protests as he unconsciously grabs the headband at his wrist seeking comfort long dead. The cloth is worn and ragged its color long since faded as it barely holds on. The golden ichor stains and taints the cloth much like how he has tainted Polites memory by what he has become.

Monster

He tilts his head to the sky tears falling down his face as he grieves for those who died. 601 men have died leaving only a monster in human form.

Im sorry Polites..

[keffirinne]

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC

While I'm thinking to post more of my Roman x Reader oneshots, I managed to finish a few chapters of Zsasz fic that was on my mind for some time already. The story is gonna have 7, max 8 chapters.

I thought it would be fun to give Zsasz a GCPD officer to play with. He didn't seem to object.

Yes, it's gonna be smut.

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC (F!GCPD officer)

#Zsasz's creepy fantasies #blood #Zsasz being a creep #descriptions of violence

Chapter 1: Raid

Although it was May and the sun outside the window has already risen, it was chilly this morning. A cold wind, completely unsuitable for this time of year, blew through the open roof of the abandoned warehouse and easily got under Zsasz's tight-fitting t-shirt, reminding him that he should have taken a jacket. The air was filled with the salty and muddy river smell, resulting from its proximity to the docks, mixed with the metallic, strong scent of blood, resembling paint spilled in disarray, was covering much of the dirty warehouse concrete floor right now. When one of Roman's men closed the trunk with a loud clang and got into the car, the driver took off right after, leaving behind only dust and the sound of the vehicle moving away. And Zsasz. He was standing there, alone, gazing at the horizon. His breath had already calmed down and his excitement, shortlasting, started to fade, leaving him in his neutral, jovial state. For a while more, there could be heard noises of the engine rattling and the wheels bouncing on the rough road, but in time they completely disappeared. 

Avoiding the blood stains on the floor, Zsasz headed into one of the rooms that now served as a bathroom, since it had a sink. It got quiet, the recent screams and whimpers became only a memory that wasn't going to last long. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the abandoned warehouse, punctuated from time to time by the howling of the wind. Finding himself in the “bathroom”, Zsasz walked over to the tap and, smudging it with red fluid, turned on the water. Under the running, unfortunately cold water, he washed the traces of crimson, partially already dried blood from his hands, face, the tap, and started to rinse his knife. The blade shone proudly with its brilliance, having emerged its silver face from under the dark red clotted layer. Victor reached then for a cloth lying on a makeshift metal table and with surgical diligence, began cleaning his knife. He rubbed the tool for so long, looking at it carefully until he could see his own reflection in the sheet. As Victor was looking through the blade as if in a mirror and noticed a few dots of blood on his cheek, he washed them off with his thumb. 

The squawking sound of seagulls, making noise on the shore, came from the distance. It had something calming about it. Fishermans starting their shift, launching boats, just typical Tuesday. That's why when Victor suddenly heard a loud female voice close by telling him to raise his hands, he was slightly surprised.

“GCPD, you're under arrest! Drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them!”

Zsasz turned his head toward the door where now was standing a small, blonde woman dressed in a police uniform and pointing a gun at him. He lazily wrapped his eyes around her and  stopped at the barrel pointed at his chest. It had to be a Glock 38, a 45 would have been too big for the officer’s petite hands. One of the typical weapons in the GCPD arsenal. It wasn't bad, but Zsasz didn't like its simple, even simplistic design. 

The woman reached his shoulders, but she must have been trying to make up for her physiognomic limitations with her temperament and verve. She stared at him in full concentration, a pair of determined blue eyes glared at him from under her drawn-down eyebrows. It was almost unnoticeable that she was afraid. Zsasz found this amusing and smirked out of the corner of his mouth, not stopping to wipe his knife. 

Only when several more policemen appeared behind the woman, each of them aiming at him, Zsasz's smirk changed to a small grimace. Reluctantly, he dropped the knife he just cleaned to the ground and raised his hands to the air. As soon as the blade hit the ground with a metallic clang, GCPD officers rushed into the room and like one living organism, began their activities. The petite officer he saw first approached him and pulled out the handcuffs. She efficiently fastened them on his wrists, not at all as gently as he had expected. Meanwhile, she started to deliver her procedural monologue.

“Mr. Zsasz, you are being accused of the murder of Alfred Gibbs. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you...”

Zsasz didn’t protest, the warm body of the blonde officer was a nice change on this chilly morning and to the cold steel of the handcuffs. Next, with nothing but professionalism, she proceeded with the searching procedure. Quickly yet thoroughly she inspected his legs, shoes, back. From his back pockets she pulled out his wallet and phone which immediately got seized by another officer wearing latex gloves and tucked into a transparent ziplock bag, intended for personal belongings. Meanwhile another of her colleagues was carefully picking up the knife from the ground, that Zsasz dropped, to pack it in another, identical  bag. Others were looking around the rooms, mostly interested in the red blood stains on the floor, which until some time ago had been inside the body of Alfred what was his name Gibbs. 

His officer continued the procedure with encyclopedic thoroughness. She searched the left front pocket of Zsasz's pants, which turned out to be empty, while in the right pocket she found a bunch of keys, including car keys. Zsasz was surprised when, after pulling out the keys, her hand slid back into the same pocket. He knew he didn't have anything else on him.

Before she realized what she was actually touching, her  fingers tightened on the elongated bulge in his pants for a moment. Victor glanced at her from under raised eyebrows as her hand undeniably grabbed his dick. As soon as the woman realized what turned out to be the contents of Zsasz's pocket, she shook her eyes and immediately withdrew her hand in fright, breaking her hitherto unwavering professionalism. No one else seemed to notice this minor incident, but the officer was very abashed by her mistake. Her face quickly reddened, which she wasn't able to hide until the end of the procedure. Looking in a completely different direction but Zsasz, she ordered him to move and began leading him to the police car. Zsasz stared at her shamelessly, and although she completely avoided looking at him, she felt his gaze on her, as burning as the embarrassing flush on her face.

As Zsasz passed a dozen officers panning around the warehouse, doing their ant work, he changed the object of his attention and began to wonder how they got here so quickly. And who gave them a heads-up? If they would have arrived only a few minutes earlier, and they would find him in a very awkward situation with Alfred Gibbs still alive. Although, the police might have had a problem recognizing the victim, since it's hard to recognize a man with his face missing. Not that Zsasz was concerned about being apprehended, he knew full well that even if they would find him with his hand in Gibbs' guts, declaring that yes, indeed, he just killed him, Gotham's blind justice by some sudden miracle would find his guilt ambiguous, and a few witnesses who would show up unexpectedly would shed quite a different light on the whole case, dismissing it completely.  This “miracle” actually had a simple explanation, and his name was Roman Sionis. Since he worked for Roman, he didn't have to worry about such impediments to his work as  GCPD. What he was concerned about was if by chance there was a snitch among Roman’s loyalists. 

When they left the building, his personal officer tilted his head, not at all gently, while pushing him into the back seat of one of the police cars. She herself took the passenger seat next to the driver and closed the door. What was a nice change, inside the car was warmer than outside. Zsasz stretched out comfortably, as much as his tightly fastened cuffs allowed him to. 

The car took off. Zsasz ran his eyes over the interior; it had been some time since he found himself in a police car, but he knew it well. He gazed forward, at the officer's bright ponytail, which bounced now slightly on the verges of the road. Her and her colleague were talking about something, but Zsasz couldn't hear any words, the noise of the vehicle was drowning everything out. His mind began to drift off into fantasies, awakened by the recent feeling of insatiability. 

He was convinced that he could handle the blonde officer easily if he were alone with her. It would be enough to press her against the car when getting out and put the handcuffs chain around her neck. She would clench her fingers on the metal, while squirming in place before he would strangle her. Her reddened face would turn purple and her body would slide down on the side of the vehicle and fall inertly to the ground, neck adorned with the bloody necklace. Or if she would lean over, he would grab the knife she carried at her belt.... Her bright eyes wouldn’t hide the surprise as he would be cutting her throat. She wouldn't have time to feel fear either, just staring at him dully, not processings what was happening. Hm, Zsasz was not entirely satisfied with this quick ending of both visions, he liked when his victims showed terror. Unfortunately, for lack of time, he would have to let go of this satisfying part. 

He immersed himself in his imagination, running with his thoughts further, to the GCPD police station. Being surrounded by other officers would make the job harder, but not impossible. Maybe if he stayed with her alone, for example in the elevator or in the interrogation room. He wouldn't need much time. Her body must have been soft and warm, like her hands with which she fleetingly touched him. Yes, he was sure of it. Even though she used weapons on a daily basis, her hands didn’t get rough. He wondered how long she would remain so warm and soft as she would be bleeding in his arms. 

A sudden, strong thought, like a cockblock, stopped him from exploring this exciting fantasy further. Roman wouldn't be thrilled to find out that Zsasz murdered one of the GCPD policemen at the police station. Reluctantly, he had to let go of the pleasant fantasies, which began to warm him more than the warm interior of the police car. He spent the rest of the journey staring out the window in boredom.

ao3: 1 | 2

next->

@thegreatwicked @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover @dragon2d

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 16: Tagfer: Grief Can Be Cruel

He’s had enough of her singing. If Loid and the other Cavia won’t stop it, he will.

TW:

Grief and the loss of a loved one. Tagfer’s sorrow over Minn’s death is a huge theme in this fic, and that affects a good chunk of his actions. He’s irrational at times, but that’s to be expected.

Non-graphic mentions of the death of an animal. Minn’s death is going to be referenced throughout the fic, but not in detail.

Allusions to or mentions of dissociation on Lotus’s part, mainly because of the fact that she’s trying to keep the Indifference at bay.

As I’m sure y’all can guess, this fic will contain some spoilers for Ranks 1-5 with the Cavia.

With everything out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

He paces around the small metal pad…thing where he normally sits, his hooves clanging on the ground. His tail thrashes from side to side, its metal-covered tip clicking against the gilded posts. He shakes his head in an attempt to get back on track, to quiet his thoughts, but it doesn’t work.

That song.

It’s all because of that damn song.

Despite his insistence otherwise, the strange being still hasn’t left the cliff. No, of course not, he thinks with a huff. She seems quite happy to just stand there and tempt It, as if they don’t have enough problems already. Loid won’t tell her to be quiet—he doesn’t have the guts, the Cervulite tells himself—, and Bird apparently trusts her already. The fish is stuck where he is, so that option’s out too. He stops his pacing, stomping a hoof on the floor as he comes to a decision. 

If no one else’ll tell her to shut up, he’ll just have to do it himself.

His hooves click down the stairs—he ignores Loid’s cautious greeting as he pads past him—, each step propelling him closer to her. Each step is met with resistance from his instincts. He supposes he’s still a prey animal, at the end of the day. No amount of Void exposure will change that. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

Danger.

Stop.

DANGER.

Run.

He snorts in annoyance, his tail lashing as he treks through the sand. As he gets closer, as the sandy dunes start to turn to rough stone, Tagfer finds that he’s able to hear sadness in her voice. Sadness and…loneliness, he figures. A huff escapes him, the frills on his head pinning back as anger starts to twist inside of him.

What the hell does she have to be sad about?

The thought spurs him on and he stalks forward, finding himself standing behind the strange being—‘the Lotus’, he remembers Loid calling her…though he’s also heard Bird say different things. He doesn’t care what she’s called. He just wants her out. 

“Hey. Do ya mind? Some of us are tryin’ to get shit done. Your howling isn’t helping anyone.” She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t do anything to let him know that she heard him, and the Cervulite grits his teeth in frustration. She could try to be more responsive, considering they’re being very lenient about her presence here.

What does she have to be upset about anyways?

He can be sad. He lost Minn. The others can too, he relents. Loid’s allowed to be upset about Albrecht, even though he doesn’t agree with the man—out of everyone, why does he have to love him? But her? She just…shows up here one day to do…what, exactly? ‘Distract’ It? That isn’t helping. It isn’t bringing him any closer to getting revenge on Albrecht for what he did to his mate. 

“Seriously, stop it. We don’t need your depressing singing making us feel even worse. Cool, you’re sad and lonely. Guess what? We all are. And yet, we aren’t letting It in our heads. I lost my Minn and ya don’t see me howling into the Void.”

He lost Minn.

She’s gone.

The thought crashes into him full force, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to say. His tail lashes, a growl building in his chest. He shakes his head, trying to get her face out of it. 

He’ll never see her again.

They were supposed to be a herd. 

Why does she get to be upset when he lost everything and he still has to keep going?

Minn’s gone. Dead.

Why won’t she say anything?

Why won’t she stop?

Despair coils around his lungs, suffocating him as his hoof comes crashing down onto the stone, fury in his voice as he addresses the being who still hasn’t acknowledged him.

“Say something, damnit! You…you don’t just get to stand there like I’m not talkin to you!” A puff of air forces itself through his muzzle as he stomps his hoof again. He doesn’t hear the surprised hum—as if she didn’t know he was even there—as he lowers his head, his gaze clouded with rage and loss and hurt and hurt and hurt. He doesn’t notice the song stop.

His hooves thud on the stone below him for only a few strides before his head comes into contact with her leg. He feels her step backwards slightly to re-balance herself—when had she turned around to face him?—, though his vision swims from the impact. He stands in front of her, breaths coming in rushed pants.

His head hurts.

His heart hurts worse.

“I…Are you alright?” He’s not entirely sure what he expected from the mysterious figure, but…concern isn’t it. Especially not after he just rammed his head into her. The momentary confusion is enough to halt his spiraling thoughts long enough for him to turn his gaze up to look at her. He can’t see her eyes—the part of him that’s still just an animal yells at him to run, he won’t be able to predict her intentions—, but he notices that her mouth is turned slightly downward, a little like that look Loid got when he was trying to figure out how to save them. The Cervulite pauses for a second, his anger dimming as he lets out a wordless huff. His head shakes from side to side, though he’s not entirely sure if that’s meant to be an answer to the Lotus’s question or not. She seems to take it as that, though.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She’s giving him an out, he can tell. She doesn’t really seem to know what’s going on—was she really just…completely zoned out that entire time?—, but she’s giving him a choice. Talk about it, or not. 

Why’s she being so nice?

Why’s he actually considering the offer?

“We’re all upset here. You aren’t special.” Some lingering bitterness forces its way into the air between them, and he notices her tilt her head slightly, curiously. The slight frown—right, that’s the name for it, he remembers—remains on her face. She stays quiet though, and Tagfer feels frustration building in his chest again, tangling with the hurt and sadness and loneliness.

“…I miss Minn.” The whispered admission surprises even himself. He knows that the being in front of him doesn’t know who Minn was, doesn’t know what she meant to him. 

Something in him aches at the thought that no one will ever know Minn again.

A sniffle turns into a quiet sob, and his muscles slump as he lowers his haunches, sitting down on the cold stone beneath him. His muzzle scrunches as he thinks of her. She was so…She was Minn. She was gentle and soft and warm and he still doesn’t know how to be the only one left. 

What good is a Tagfer without a Minn?

He distantly hears a soft inhale, hears something rustling above him. He looks up, registering a hand outstretched to him, though it pulls back at the last second. He shrinks back warily, though even through his despair, he finds himself wondering why she’s acting so…unsure. There’s a few quiet clicks on the stone as she moves to the side, gently sitting down next to him…sort of. The other being is still a good tail’s-length away, a fact that helps with his uneasiness a bit.

“I…am sorry.” Her voice is nearly a whisper, and the Cervulite finds himself turning his gaze to her. He’s heard others say that before, but this is…different. The fish had only said that because he felt guilty, and the Tenno generally prefer not to mention Minn around him. This feels…genuine? He doesn’t know if that’s the right word, but it feels okay. Though, it seems like she’s got more to say, but isn’t saying it. They sit on the stony ledge, with Tagfer trying to calm the cries that still wrench through his chest, and the Lotus just…being there. Eventually, he hears a slow—almost distracted—voice, and turns.

“What would you have…wanted me to say? When you asked me before?” His eyes narrow, but he shakes his head, his tail-tip flicking slightly.

“Don’t know.” She hums softly, but seems to accept it. For a moment, they return to the silence, but Tagfer quickly realizes something, his gaze darting to her again.

“Wait, so you did hear that?” He doesn’t get a response for a second—he finds that he’s getting a little sick of that—, but eventually, she exhales slowly.

“I did not hear the entire thing. I apologize, my mind has been rather…occupied.” He doesn’t have any idea what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but whatever. Probably has something to do with the Indifference. He huffs wordlessly.

“I…apologize for causing a disturbance. I understand that this is not ideal.” Huh. She’s actually figured out what he came over here for anyways. Somehow…he finds that he’s not actually as angry about it as he’d been before. Especially as he begins to really listen to her, to hear what’s really behind the poised—if distracted—voice.

It was never about her song. Not really.

“Not your fault.” His sigh reminds him of what he’d said to the fish as they were succumbing to their Void-sickness. His words are right, he realizes with a bit more bitterness than is probably necessary. They sit in silence for a bit longer, and he notices that her muscles tense slightly, her jaw setting strangely. He doesn’t know what it means, but he can tell that she’s not particularly comfortable. There’s a break in the tension though, and he hears her speak softly, her voice strangely calm.

“Would you like to talk about her?” The ache of his grief flares again as he realizes who she’s talking about—how did she know Minn was a ‘her’, he wonders. He sniffs slightly, though his eyes widen slightly as a thought flickers through his mind, past the sadness, past the hurt.

No one’s ever asked him that before.

Maybe that’s why, despite the lingering distrust of the Lotus, he sighs.

“Yeah. Yeah I would.” He wants someone to know who she was. Someone who isn’t them, who isn’t Loid or Albrecht or the Tenno. Minn deserves that much. The Lotus nods slowly, shifting slightly to face him. He knows she’s waiting patiently for him to talk, but he finds that he isn’t sure where to start. The frills on his head droop as he remembers her. 

“She was the only other Cervulite. It was just us. Just us. We only had to worry about food, and sleep, and things that might eat us. We didn’t know anything different. Just warm nests and nuzzles and curling up to shelter from the cold. And…” He trails off, anger twisting around the pain as he finds himself about to mention what Albrecht did.

No. He won’t let Minn be remembered for what he did to her. She’ll be remembered as Minn, not the failed experiment. She wasn’t just the one that died. He sniffs, curling his tail around himself—maybe he can pretend it’s hers…even for a second—, but steels himself as he continues.

“She was brave. She was scared and confused, but she was brave. Kind, soft, brave, warm Minn. Good Minn. She was good.” He stops, his words drying up on his tongue as memories wash over him. 

“She sounds lovely.” He glances at the other being, her soft voice—almost…longing, he realizes—gently making its way into his mind, gently pushing past the hurt and pain and grief. He doesn’t know what exactly that word means, but…it sounds right.

“She was.” He hears her inhale, noticing a waver to the sound. Her hand twitches slightly, her fingers curling inwards for a moment before relaxing again. Suddenly, it clicks in his mind. Everything, from how she’s decided to interfere with the Indifference, to how she seems to just…know things, just clicks.

She’s lost people too.

She’s hurting, just like the rest of them.

But he already knew that, didn’t he?

Tagfer sighs, staring across the vast emptiness that is the Void. Minn wouldn’t want this—he bites back the thought that she can’t want anything anymore. She’d want him to bask in the sun, to roll in the sand. Not to waste his energy lashing out.

A part of him screeches as he shuffles closer to the Lotus. 

Danger.

DANGER.

Stop.

No, he argues with his instincts.

He nuzzles her hand with his muzzle, lifting it slightly. He hears a surprised hum escape from her, though he doesn’t turn his eyes up to look at her. After a moment, she takes her hand away. Then, the Cervulite feels a soft pressure on the top of his head. He finds himself leaning into the touch, despite the strangeness of it all.

Maybe she’s not that bad after all.

And if Tagfer starts paying more attention to her song, if he starts spending time sitting out there, silently looking out at the Void with someone who understands—on some level, at least—, well…

Maybe it’s what Minn would’ve wanted.

[aspenforest732]

Libertias aut Mortis Chapter 3: Last Chance

Ding dong ding Dong ding dong

‘ I still don’t understand why we’re getting there a day early, ’ Akira sunk back into the pristine white booth across from Hitoshi and Eri, readjusting to the ever so slight sway of the bullet train. ‘ Don’t he usually arrive just a couple hours before to double-check the setup? ’

Hitoshi shrugged and opened a bag of sour patch kids for Eri. “I don’t know. Dad said something about sight seeing? Maybe they’ve got something planned for Eri.”

She looked up from her treats with a grin at her name, a dusting of sugar already smeared across her lips. “Mhm! Daddy said there are a ton of museums and pretty buildings and gardens and we gotta be respectful when going into the gardens, but they’re super pretty. And a biiiig tree in the sky!” Eri happily rambled along, playing with her little brightly-colored, vaguely person-shaped gummies on the white cloth-covered table between them.

Akira curiously peered around Hitoshi towards the approaching couple, confusion quickly melting into amusement at their expressions. Yamada covered his mouth, trying to hold back giggles while Aizawa stared in fond exasperation at their table.

“Eri, sweetheart, that was supposed to be a surprise, remember?” Yamada managed to stop giggling as they approached, kneeling to get closer to her level. Mirth still danced in his eyes, and Aizawa’s expression softened.

“But you said no secrets,” Eri mimed him with a yellow gummy, making Hitoshi snort and Akira silently chuckle. “Especially when an adult tells you to keep them from your family.” She beamed up at him.

Ah, the death of nuance . Akira smiled at Hitoshi, but he looked away almost immediately. Right .

“‘That’s right! Good job remembering,” Yamada flashed a bright smile Eri preened under. “Let’s run through the checklist we made, yeah?”

Eri’s face scrunched up for a moment before she perked up. “Mh. Is the person a stranger? No.” She looked to Yamada, who gave an encouraging nod. “Will keeping the secret… hurt someone?” To her credit, she thought for a solid ten seconds before answering, “no? Did the person say not to tell another adult? No.”

Eri beamed up at Yamada as she finished the checklist, who nodded encouragingly. “And does the secret make you uncomfortable?” Her face scrunched up for a few more seconds before shaking her head. “So then…”

“I shouldn’t tell the secret until they say it’s okay,” Eri looked so proud of herself for a few seconds before she realized. Her face fell, but her eyes that once would’ve held fear that made her cower now shone with regret. “Oh. I’m sorry, did I ruin the surprise?”

“No, kid,” Aizawa spoke up from behind Yamada. “Just try to remember the checklist next time, okay?” A soft smile peeked over his capture scarf as Eri nodded emphatically, pigtails bouncing adorably.

They slowly unfurled as the slight, gentle rocking motion ghosted across their consciousness. A sense of peace washed over them and let their limbs untangle, not a pop or crackle to be heard. Did that mean they went the wrong way again? Even so, maybe they could stay a while. Then again, the bells could very well be covering the sounds, the near-constant clanging save for a static third beat echoing through the void. They couldn’t remember the train ride, but fierce familiarity burned somewhere deep down. The countryside sped past in a car too fancy, too expensive for any trip they would’ve taken. Maybe if they stayed long enough, the gentle laughter and easy banter would drown out the bells.

Akira pulled up by a life-sized Howl statue while Eri babbled on about Howl’s Moving Castle with the tour guide, a bored teen who looked all together done with this part of the museum. Akira wheeled forward a bit, eyes wide with fascination as they watched the display shift and shimmer between his pink and desaturated blue cape outfit and his bird-like appearance. They started to take out their phone to send to Fumikage, only to remember the strict no-cameras policy.

They were half-tempted to warp and do it anyway, but a glance at Eri kept them in their chair. The last thing Akira wanted was to ruin the experience for her. Aizawa nodded firmly, reminding them he knew their tells at this point. They continued through the museum, a few short films showing the old animation process and how the company and Miyazakis adapted over the years to appeal to younger generations. 

The older movies spoke of fighting for freedom from oppression, finding justice for the young heroes, and nature reclaiming its lands after disaster befell humans. Or human-like people anyways. Newer movies continued with albeit subtler messaging, but even in the museum and tour, they never quite came out and said they were working towards change.

Akira got a reversible, chibi Howl plush for Fumikage and Dark Shadow, declining anything for themself. They brushed away the pang of sadness at the reminder they had specific things in their go-bag for a reason. The remaining weight and space were reserved for their costume, not plushies or trinkets. 

Their little group pushed through the crowded streets towards the tallest building in the city, the Skytree. Yamada insisted they didn’t need a tour bus or anything of the sort. He’d been to Tokyo many a time and knew which tourist traps to avoid and where the best hidden gems lie in wait for an influencer to “discover.”

Hitoshi mostly kept to their family for the trip, not exactly avoiding Akira but not engaging either. That was fine, though. They could work with that. He probably didn’t even want to invite them in the first place, more of a formality since Aizawa knew… Akira made a quick mental note of an alley a public Legacy Holder ducked down. They still needed to find a good out or time when they could slip away, explore the couple points of interest they found. With the Legacy Holder stronghold hiding in plain sight in the city, their search grid only kept expanding as they kept to Yamada’s wake in the throngs of people.

They couldn’t risk casting suspicion on Yamada or Aizawa. They just knew the latter already had a target on his back as an underground hero, and Yamada would add limelights and twilights to the possible heroes working with them. The fewer leads the family had, the better. Not to mention the danger that would put the kids in. The very danger Akira isolated Hitoshi to the point of him withdrawing to protect them from.

Their stomach dropped to their feet as the elevator rocketed up almost a kilometer. Akira braced themself in their wheelchair, determined to at least try to enjoy this while they could. After an eternity, the doors opened with a ding, and Akira put a little extra force into their joystick to get over the lip into the slowly rotating observation deck. The hostess led them to their reserved table with a chair missing on the side facing the bulging windows.

They hesitated, but before they could say anything, Aizawa smoothly moved a chair over so they could choose which way to face. Akira shot them a grateful half smile. Alright, they may have gotten used to rooftop heights, but the skytree was just absurd. Torn between seeing the sights they came here to see and the vertigo they could already feel twisting their vision out of focus, Akira stayed mostly facing their table. Every so often, they tried to glance out the windows but resigned themself to happily nodding along to Eri with sparkling eyes.

Akira kept making slight adjustments to keep their wheelchair in place, refusing to lock their wheels as even the idea spiked their anxiety. They nibbled on their food, hating the idea of it going to waste but the vertigo kept challenging them to keep pretty much anything down. 

The couple kept casting them worried glances, but they just smiled and gave a thumbs up. Couldn’t ruin what even Hitoshi was excited for. He and Eri kept looking out over the city as the dining room slowly turned, pointing out places they’d been, the Tokyo Dome where Yamada would perform the next day, the Imperial Palace, and other sites they planned to see that day.

Once everyone else was done, they headed back down the glass elevator, Akira closing their eyes at some point to just pretend they were going down a normal elevator. A normal elevator that was just really slow. That’s the only reason it was taking so long. 

When the elevator finally jostled to a stop, Aizawa spoke up, “How about you three go ahead to the zoo, and we’ll catch up.”

‘ Sorry, didn’t realize it being that much higher would be a problem, ’ Akira added sheepishly. 

Eri protested, but Hitoshi narrowed his eyes at them, recognition flashing as they turned back. “Yeah, didn’t you say there was an area where you could just sit and feed the birds, Eri?” Hitoshi offered a strained smile. “If we go ahead, I bet we can get some of them to settle in pop’s hair.”

Yamada shared a look with Aizawa over the kids’ shoulders and let himself be swept along for a few steps before guiding them in the right direction. Eri may have pointed it out in the tower, but the spinning almost had them heading in the opposite direction.

To be fair, Akira did need to eat something. Aizawa tousled their hair and doubled back closer to the search grid. The Legacy Holder compound was one of two bases the Wrens kept sealed from the public, though the headquarters for the heads of the family took over Sado Island many years ago. They weren’t entirely sure how they would get on there one day, but the favor from Giran would at least open up more options.

Bento boxes in hand, Mortis warped to the rooftops while their clone continued with Aizawa, letting him push their wheelchair so they could focus on “eating.” Curiosity paused their step as they had their clone take a bite. They shrugged as the food didn’t magically make them feel fuller, instead turning to their own actual bento boxes. A little bulkier than what they usually carried on rooftop excursions nowadays, it didn’t take long to remember how to adjust for the boxes like they did on the streets.

Mortis practically flew across the rooftops, keeping within easy control range of their clone while scanning for any signs of the Legacy Holders they saw before. The first few paths on the fringe of the grid they mentally kept track of turned out to be duds, but they tried to keep pushing on. If it was that easy to find the compound, it would be common knowledge.

As it was, they only were fairly certain it was in this area because of conspiracy forums and the smallest of traces Haruki dug out of the back doors of the internet. Pigeons gathered on the edge of rooftops, cooing and chattering with each other. With so many in the city, there were bound to be a few with quirks. 

Mortis slowed slightly as they spotted a flash of red among the crowd. They hadn’t noticed their clone and Aizawa yet, though they were heading in the same direction. Further into the grid it was. Mortis pushed on, tapping out the signal to Aizawa letting him know there was one nearby. 

They didn’t know what would happen if one tried to touch their clone, but better to not risk it exposing any of them. Did their clones even have memories to alter? They certainly didn’t have anywhere near the autonomy Jin’s clones did.

A flock of pigeons took off towards them as they neared, chirping angrily at the remaining one, which had bits of metal sticking out. Mortis stumbled to a stop, turning on their heel to look at it again. They cautiously approached the poor bird, trying to get a better look at the reflections that first caught their eye under its feathers. They knelt down next to the pigeon, which had barely moved since they started approaching. Its head emerged from under its wing, and Mortis froze.

One eye replaced with a camera lens and the other milky and unseeing. What the hell… Mortis cautiously backed up, careful not to disturb anything else. A quirk maybe? Some kind of Tinker, probably, with the camera involved. After a moment, they relaxed as it didn’t seem to register their presence. Only visual light spectrum then?

Mortis darted away from the cyborg bird, head on a swivel as they searched for that Legacy Holder again. Their heart skipped a beat. He watched their clone and Aizawa from across the street, leaning against a shop window. The Wren ducked into the crowd, weaving towards them in a not immediately obvious path from ground level.

Mortis quickly transmitted “intercept” to Aizawa’s com, forced to hope any nearby heroes were on a different frequency channel. They darted in short bursts to keep eyes on the Wren from above, heart hammering as they were never more grateful for choosing an outfit that morning that covered almost every inch of easily accessible skin. Aizawa always had that between his long sleeved comfort clothes and capture scarf, but January chill and possibility of running into the Legacy Holders drew them to cover up more than usual.

The Legacy Holder paused, the crowd swerving around them with grumbles and rude gestures that went ignored. Mortis noticed the soft, awkward wing flaps just in time to tuck out of the way as the cyborg pigeon landed where they were just crouched. No, not the same one. This one had a functioning eye. 

The Legacy Holder worked his jaw but swept back through the crowd, shoulders set tensely. The clone tapped “clear” while Mortis warped after them, moving so their clone however briefly visible would be out of sight of the once bird. If the Wren was using them, that was definitely a Tinker’s quirk. Better to just assume the camera was always recording or broadcasting live to… that would have to be nearby, right?

Spurred on by the thought, Mortis kept pace with the Legacy Holder, drifting slightly further away from the edge of the roofs as they grew more agitated. Half of an argument drifted up to Mortis, something about needing more surveillance and griping about not enough resources. They startled, pulling back and down as the Legacy Holder walked through a door that was not there a second ago. They caught the briefest glimpse of a grand interior with polished floors and bright lights before it closed behind the Wren.

Found you .

Asami and Her Handler

Asami’s white knuckles gripped her phone, willing the email to disappear with a blink. Damnit. She reread it, frozen with one bracer tied halfway on and her half of her costume in the tinker tech bag.

“Hey, what’s got you down?” Hana smiled brightly at her, emerald eyes sparkling. “We’ve actually got patrol today! Wanna swing by the botanical garden after paperwork? I heard they’ve got—”

“I’m actually going home today,” Asami kicked herself for interrupting. Hana’s smile faded slightly, confusion pursing her brow as her raven locks fell back about her shoulders.

“What, can’t take the pressure?” Yuki barely looked up from his phone.

Asami rolled her eyes even as the jab stung more than she’d ever admit to the asshole. “ No , my parents just want me closer to home for now. I’ll be back.” Will you though?

“Wait, you’re serious?” Hana’s smile faded as Asami avoided her gaze and gathered her things. “Asami, you love working with Nova. Why would they take that away from you? They can’t keep you cooped up forever, you know.”

Asami forced a smile, not quite reaching her eyes as Hana took a step toward her. “Really, it’s fine. They’re not taking anything away, just… giving me new opportunities.”

Hana held her gaze for a long moment, searching for something. She sighed and tucked a sweetpea into Asami’s palm with a slight glow. “There, that should last until we meet again.” Her hand lingered a moment longer in hers. “And we will meet again.”

Asami blushed lightly and chuckled, “Now why does that sound like a threat?” Nevertheless, she tucked the precious flower in her pocket, mind already racing with how she could sneak it in. Aimi-sama loomed in the doorway, and with barely a glance, Asami hurriedly shoved her armor back in the bag, keenly aware of her sharp gaze.

Asami waved to the other interns and willed the blush away as they strode towards their handler in the doorway. Aimi-sama was a stern but kind woman of tall stature and a modest interposing quirk, able to take a hit directed toward her charge. Asami bowed and dutifully followed her into Nova’s office. The adults talked for a few minutes while she poured over what she could’ve done differently or not at all to delay this.

“I hope you understand that this is nothing against you, Nova,” Aimi-sama said as she bowed.

“Of course.” Nova smiled thinly down at Asami and bowed to the pair. “I understand needing to keep family safe. I wish you the best in these trying times.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Asami murmured and bowed in return. Chin up,. Shoulders back . And walk . She followed her advocate to the waiting car, walking as if each step was filled with purpose. Asami barely spared a glance to Hana and the other sidekicks, knowing if she lingered a moment too long in those emerald eyes she might do something she’d regret. I thought I was doing fine. Everything was going so well. Why are they pulling-

“Asami,” Aimi-sama reminded, her sharp eyes in stark contrast with her kind voice and gentle smile. Asami snapped out of her spiral as the woman pointedly looked to the open car door.

“My apologies, Aimi-sama.” Asami quickly ducked into the car, gracefully sliding in with her skirt perfectly smoothed. Almost. She subtly smoothed a wrinkle before Aimi-sama could comment. A quick glance betrayed nothing on the woman’s smooth, cold face.

Aimi-sama handed her a small disk. Asami quickly pressed the activation button and scanned through the file displayed on the one-way holographic screen. Her eyebrows twitched upward and she glanced to the side. “Shield Maiden?”

Aimi-sama’s mouth ticked into a frown as she quirked an eyebrow.

Asami hurriedly corrected, “My apologies. I was simply surprised to be working with mother. Did I do something wrong?”

Aimi-sama slightly turned back to face the divider screen. “Your performance has been adequate since the Shie Hassaiki incident.” Asami nodded, a slight shiver running down her spine although she couldn’t quite place the reason. “However, Inoue children are being targeted. As the only child outside our immediate sphere of influence, you’re coming as close to isolation as the public will allow.” A sharp glance made Asami straighten even more. “Your time outside has not dulled your manners or tongue. Do not make mistakes or you will need correction.”

“Yes, Aimi-sama,” Asami spoke clearly but meekly. Of course Aimi-sama was right, as always. She was fortunate to have an advocate to remind her of her place after time away.

“Your sister”

Sibling .

“is becoming a problem. If she contacts you outside scheduled meetings, inform us at once.”

“Yes, Aimi-sama.” Asami didn’t really understand this phase Akira was going through, but she didn’t want her - them, Akira they/them, Akira they/them, Akira they/them - to hate her. She suppressed a shudder at the pain and rage in her twin’s eyes during the provisional licensing exam. I hope we can get them out from under the stoat soon. Who knows what else he put in their head.

Asami went back to quietly reading the brief, noting the increased shield training with a spike of fear. She inwardly shook it off. Mother’s a Shield Brute. She or Father may even know why this is happening! I probably just need a different kind of training. Of course. This is why you always stay with your quirk type. Asami couldn’t quite quell the growing knot of dread, so she tried to ignore it as best she could. 

After all, what reason could she possibly have to fear her family?

Notes:

So I know we have two fluff chapters in a row, but to be fair, I put off writing this scene until I started working on the bits that come between page breaks - stage 5. Technically there are 6 stages since this is stage 0, but programming logic I guess lol it should make sense by stage 2 or 3, but I’m considering adding what changes in each stage before the first chapter of each. That would probably help with understanding why there are stages…

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[rainydayfanfic]

Camping Mishap

Ghost x GN reader

Warnings: nsfw, gender neutral reader, violence, cursing, fighting, descriptive sex scene?, praise kink.

If I’ve missed something that I should put in the warning please let me know. I got this idea from fanficsforfun (hope you don’t mind me @ ing you ^^; ) they are pinned below if you want to see some of their writings.

@randomduckwrites @fanficsforfun

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The chatter of your teeth almost drowns out the sounds of the harsh winds howling past the windows of the old cabin. Today was not the perfect day to start a camping trip, you thought, pulling your knees closer to your chest. 

Earlier that week you had planned a camping trip, a trip you used to take as a child every summer. You were so excited to have gotten the time off approved from work that you immediately started packing your bag, a military bag your dad had passed onto you after his passing. You had packed your sleeping bag, a small tactical shovel, your hunting knife, and your dad’s military grade thermal blanket, along with a few snacks and your water bottle. You were so busy packing only stopping to search for other odds and ends, it had completely slipped your mind to check on the weather for the week. 

Now you’re paying for your poor planning, your head ducked into your sleeping bag, clutching your cold hands together in search of warmth as you shivered on the cold wooden floors of the small abandoned cabin. You speak praises to the cabin, “I'm so happy I found you, you have a few holes but it's better than sleeping on the snowy ground.” 

You chuckle to yourself, feeling slightly silly for talking to an inanimate object. You were about to voice this thought to the cabin but you stop, freezing in place as you strain your ears listening for the sound again. 

It was muffled but you heard it again just as the wind started to die down. You listen closely to try and hear what is being said, not daring to move a muscle. You couldn't hear much but you could catch a few words “cabin… found… staying”, the words didn’t fully process until you heard the creaking of the wooden steps as the stranger stomped up to the door. You leap from your sleeping bag grabbing for the tactical shovel strapped to your bag and pull it to you. The bag follows, the straps holding the shovel release its hold on the hunk of metal sending the bag flying across the room and crashing with noisy clangs. The stranger pauses, the wooden floorboards no longer creaking. .

You carefully make your way to the dirty window, peaking out to catch a glimpse of the stranger and what you saw made your stomach drop. A sniper rifle strapped to the back of a bulky figure clad in black, save for what looked like a white mask, holding a pistol. The figure was crouched in front of the door, a hand carefully reached out to push said door ajar. This door swings towards you, your grip tight on the hand of the shovel getting ready to knock the gun out of their hands as soon as it is in your sights.

The floor creaks as the stranger advances, pushing the door wider until they could fit inside. You see the tip of the gun first, you raise the shovel, then the bulky figure appears behind it just as quickly, and you swing.

A metallic clang sings your victory but it was short lived. The stranger tackles you to the ground quickly subduing you by straddling your waist and pinning your wrists under the cold metal handle of your shovel. You groan, lifting your head just in time to see their other hand reach for the gun. You bring your knees up hitting the person's lower back, throwing off their balance before you bring your hips up as quickly as you can before pushing the man off you and away from the gun with all the force you could muster and scrambling to stand up. You grab for the gun and turn to face him, only to have the gun knocked from your hands and shoved against the wall. The breath forced from your lungs in the process. 

“Stay down!” Shouts the masked man.

You flinch away, knocking your head on the wood of the wall, crying out in pain as the adrenaline quickly leaves your body only leaving fear and pain in its place. Your hip bones begin to ache from where he had pinned you, your wrists sting from scratches, and a dull throb starts to wrap its hands around your brain.

This is it, you think. ‘I'm cold, beaten, and miles away from home.’ Tears gather in your eyes, you squeeze your eyelids shut in an attempt to hide anymore weakness from the man, but your body gives you away. Waves of shivers wash over you, a mix of the cold air nipping at your exposed skin and the fear of being killed. 

“Look at me.” his voice is like sandpaper to your throbbing head.

You don't open your eyes, another wave of shivers push a whimper from your lips.

“I said look at me!” He shouts again, gripping your jacket to pull you to him then shove you back against the wall. You yelp as your head knocks the wood again. “I need to see your eyes on me, who are you?” He bellows. 

Your bottom lip begins to quiver and you try to answer, but he grabs your jaw before you can get it out. “Open.. Your bloody eyes.” The man snarls. You sniffle, fighting back the tears as you open your watery eyes to meet his stern ones. “Y/N” you whimper, body shaking with fear as you speak to the skeleton mask covering half his face. 

The hand on your jaw loosens but doesn’t let go, his eyes stare back at you, unchanging despite his curiosity as to why you are reacting this way. “Who are you with?” He continues his questioning, his voice softer but still stern, his hands still pinning you to the wall and keeping your eyes on him. 

“No one.” You sniff, fighting back sobs.

“Why are you out here?” 

You couldn’t hold it back any longer, squeezing your eyes closed as hot tears rolled down your cold cheeks. “I just wanted to go hiking.” You sob, crumbling against his hold. If his hands weren’t there to keep you pinned you would have fallen to the floor, tired from the hike and fight, too cold to think about anything other than how you wanted to crawl back to your sleeping bag. As you sniffle, trying to choke back the tears the man lets out a disgruntled sigh and lets go of your jaw. The hand quickly finds its way to a transceiver on his vest, “This is Bravo-07 I got a bloody civ in the hutch, over.”

“This is Alpha, Bravo 0-7 confirm..” A strange voice answers him back. 

“I got a civilian in the cabin. Put up a bit of a fight but I’ve naturalized them.” 

His voice was light at first but quickly back to his gruff tone. You sniff, raising your hands to wipe your face, the small amount of pride helps to calm your shuddering breath. Your hands rest on the arm keeping you pinned after drying your eyes 

“Ghost, we can’t have eyes on you. Incapacitate the civ and lay low, don’t hurt them though.” The voice demands. 

Your hands tighten around his arm, your eyes widen looking straight into his, a silent plea to not do anything else. 

“Negative Captain, we got into a bit of a scuff. Too late for them to not remember in the morning.” 

“Must have put up quite a fight to keep you from killing them.” The voice sounds a little impressed, you can’t help but look to the ground with a sigh of relief as the corners of your lips turn up. 

“Looks like you got company for the night, lucky bastard.” A new voice chimes in.

“Jealous, Johnny?” The masked man answers the new voice with a chuckle. 

“Wouldn’t say no to some nice company, ‘specially if they were easy on the eyes. Eh, Ghost?” ‘Johnny’ chuckles, his Scottish accent heavier than before. 

“That’s enough Johnny.” Ghost states harshly. No one chimes in until Ghost speaks again. “I’m goin’ quiet for the night, I’ll wait out the storm here with the civ. In the morning, have the evac team come and grab them for a nice chat.” 

This makes you shrink, another wave of fear wracking your body at the mere thought of this chat.

“Copy that Bravo 0-7. Stay warm out there.” 

Ghost takes his hand away, you stubble to gain your stability. While you gathered your senses again Ghost went to shut the door, a small patch of snow had already gathered in the doorway. Ghost’s heavy boot steps leave prints until he pushes the door shut, sweeping away most of the snow and forcing it back outside. You stand in place behind him, awkwardly rubbing your hands together for warmth until he turns back to face you. You smile sheepishly, one hand trailing up your other to rub your arm. He stands there for a moment, watching you carefully as you slowly move to pick up your backpack. You slowly open it, trying to show him you aren’t going to try and hurt him, and pull out a granola bar. “Uh..” you start, looking at the treat in your hand then to him as you stretch your hand towards him, “Would you like something to eat?”  

You try offering him a soft smile along with it. You feel like you’re an ill prepared host trying to offer a guest comforts you can't afford. He hums and takes a step closer, reaching to take the bar from your outstretched palm and nods as a thank you before taking a seat beside where you had laid your sleeping bag. As he stripped the treat of his wrapper you sat on your sleeping bag, tearing the wrapper away from your own bar.

You both eat quietly, passing glances at each other in curiosity before you meet his eyes to which you quickly look to the floor feeling as though you had been caught. You clear your throat and grab for your thermal blanket, “Do you want a blanket? It's probably going to get colder and I have my sleeping bag so I'll be okay. Well- not that I think you would be worried about me or you might considering I'm a stranger that keeps offering you things but its just cause I feel the need to keep-”

“I'll take the blanket, shakes.” his deep voice cuts off your rambling.

“Shakes?” you question.

“You're shaking.” He states simply.

You raise your brows in acknowledgment, nodding your head. “I'm cold.” you shrug it off and continue to hold out the blanket for him to take. He looks at the blanket, then his eyes start to follow the length of your arm up to your face looking at you with such intensity that it makes you feel naked. You break eye contact, slouching in a futile attempt to hide from his gaze shivering and unsure what to do. You hear him mumble something under his breath then speak clearly “Come sit by me. We’ll share the blanket.”

You sit up straight, your eyes darting back to meet him, “Share?” you question, stuttering slightly. 

He doesn't answer only signs in annoyance before standing again, leaving his uneaten granola bar behind. He towers over you, “Up.” he commands and you stand obediently. He grabs your sleeping bag and blanket and moves them to where he was sitting, opening the sleeping bag and lays it flat before sitting down at the head of it and rests his back against the wall with his legs spread. He's much larger than you, even with the sleeping bag fillaid open like this he would barely fit, he would have to lay flat to even get close. “Sit here. Back to me.” he nods between his legs. Blood rushes to your cheeks but you obey, knowing he didn't mean anything by it. 

��It's just to keep warm’ you remind yourself, sitting down in between his thighs but just far enough to where your back isn't touching his front. “All the way back, little thing. Won't be able to wrap the blanket around both of us like this.” 

His voice was softer this time, not a demand, a request.

You obey, scooting back until your back is flush with his chest. “Good.” he hums, wrapping the blanket around you in such a way that the remaining is draped over his lap. The warmth slowly wraps around you, tempting you to lean further on the man behind you. Your muscles slowly relaxing, your body no longer in a state of panic or fear as you gently rest against him. He must be getting warm as well, you can feel his body relax under you. He props up his legs and rests his arms on his knees, this makes the blanket shift. The edge of the blanket now pulled taunt up to your chin. 

You shift back a little more trying to get comfortable with the new position but no matter how much you try you keep laying on something hard on his vest. His vest is littered with pocket, deadly weapons concealed or proudly displayed within them. You briefly wonder why he didn’t kill with a knife but that thought quickly passes to getting comfortable again. You squirm against him, trying not to move too much but struggling to move correctly. 

You absentmindedly put your hands on his thighs under the blanket to try and lift your body to position it better, but you stop. His hand had shot up to grip your shoulder, “Stop squirming.” He grunts

“Sorry, Ghost.” You squeak.

You don’t move, your hands still planted firmly on his strong thighs, you had already partially lifted yourself and your arms were starting to get weak in the odd position. You try to carefully lower yourself but his grip on your shoulder tightens, “I said stop.” He grunts again, he almost sounds like he is in pain. 

“Am I hurting you?” You ask, turning your head to give him a worried look. 

“Quite the opposite actually, shakes.” 

You tilt your head in confusion before lowering yourself completely only to feel something hard pressing against your lower back. The realization clicks and you tense. Your hands gripping his thighs like his grips your shoulder. “Oh.” Is all you can think to say. 

He huffs a small chuckle at your reaction, “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been in such close contact with such a pretty thing.” 

You blush at the compliment, quickly looking away and squirming awkwardly against him. He notices your thumbs gently stroking his thighs and takes it as a sign to go further. In reality it was a nervous tick to play with the fabric but you didn’t feel like correcting the misunderstanding when his other hand finds its way under the covers and to your hip, pulling you closer. “Pretty and strong” he continues, watching from behind as the tips of your ears slowly turn red “You put up a good fight, shakes. Did so well.” 

He watches as you shiver from the praise. It wasn’t something he did often, praising people, the words almost felt foreign on his tongue but he couldn’t help but give you more when you rewarded him with such cute reactions. You on the other hand were not as cool and collected as the masked man. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at any second. You feel him shift behind you, sitting up to get his face closer to your ear. “No thank you?” He muses, you can practically hear him smirking from behind the mask. 

“How… how do you know I’m not doing this on purpose, seducing you before going for the kill?” You stumble over your words, eyes staring straight ahead.

He hums at the thought. “You don’t have a concealed weapon on ya’ do you, pretty?”

You don’t answer. You don’t, you’re sure he knows you don’t. He doesn’t let it go that easily, the hand on your shoulder lifts to gently grab your chin. Guiding your face with his hand so your eyes meet his. You are so close now you can see the smears of his war paint across his eyes, the color of his lashes a striking contrast to the dark background. 

“Do I need to search you?” 

A needy whimper you didn’t even know you were holding back answers for you. Ghosts' hands waste no time. The hand on your hip comes up, gently grabbing the back of your neck to push you forward so your back is exposed to him. His other gloved hand trails from your chin to your shoulders and down the side of your back over your jacket, humming in fake interest as he works. You suck in a breath when his cold glove meets your bare skin, shivering as it makes its way up your back and around to your front. He gently guides you back by your neck so his other hand finds its way to your warm chest, your hands resting on his forearms now to give him space to move. He grabs at your chest, teasing a nipple with one hand while the other continues to search your body. “Nothing up here.” He mumbles in your ear as his hand passes over your belly, his chin resting on your shoulder keeping you in place while you quiver in his arms. 

“Fuck, you’re shaking again. I’ve barely touched you.” His hand makes its way out to glide over your clothed thigh, groping at the inner part of your plush thighs. “Can’t wait to feel” his hand inches closer to where you want him most, “how you shudder when I touch you” his fingers brush so close, “right” you bite your lips to keep from whining when he lifts his hand, “here” his warm hand cups your privates. You gasp, squirming your hips against him. 

“Fuck that’s right, pretty.” He growls, chuckling at the way your body twitches from the smallest pinch of your nipple to the way his palm grinds against your needy core. However, much to your disappointment his hand stays still despite your efforts to subtly grind against his hand looking for friction. His hand follows the small bucks of your hips, not allowing you any pleasure unless he decides to give it to you. You attempt to press your thighs together, trapping his hand so you can grind against it. 

He’s quick to stop you though, the hand on your chest darting out to push your pillowy thighs apart. He clicks his tongue at you, “Naughty thing, you were being so good. Don’t ruin it now, love.” A warning. You huff in frustration, parting your thighs for him. “I’m sorry.” You mumble but he doesn’t seem to accept your apology. Instead his hands cup the backs on your knees, lifting your legs off the ground and holding them there with one hand while the other goes to unbuckle your pants. He pushes them up and off your legs until your pants are dangling still wrapped around one of your ankles. Both hands are behind your knees again and suddenly your whole body is hovering in the air as he maneuvers under you. Leaning against the wall a little more stretched out than before. Your head is resting on his shoulder now when he sets you back down on his lap, his knees between yours to keep your thighs spread wide when his hands leave to return to your chest and core. The hand is now flattened against your chest, keeping you close to his chest while his other rubs you through your undies. You squirm on top of him, your own hands finding their way to his on your chest and the other snakes around his neck grabbing the back of his mask. 

“The mask stays on, love.” He tells you, “But these are coming off.” He pushes your undergarments off your hips and down to join your pants around one ankle. You gasp and tense when the cold air hits your once warm skin until skilled hands glide over your most sensitive areas. You’re too focused on the pleasure to notice his hand is now glove free, too busy holding back moans to wonder when he had removed it. The hand on your chest is suddenly pressing two fingers against your lips, forcing their way in to let your moans spill freely. Groaning in your ear when he’s rewarded with your mewls and moans, bucking his hips up against your rear while he pleases you. “You sound so pretty for me, all for me.” He groans, “Keep your mouth open, love. I want to hear you scream for me.” He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, now wet with your drool, and guides them to your entrance circling it. 

“You want my fingers inside you, pretty thing?” 

You try to speak but before a full word can leave your mouth he’s growling in your ear “Nod your head, I only want to hear those cute moans.” 

You nod quickly and he chuckles, “Good pet.” 

As a reward he presses his fingers inside starting with one, slowly spreading you open to take the second all the way to the knuckle. You moan softly for him grinding your rear against his growing bulge, the desperation, pleasure, and dominating presence of Ghost causing your need for more to only grow more feral. “You keep grinding that ass on my cock baby and I’ll fuck you right now.” He warns, pistoning his fingers in and out, “don’t you want to cum around my fingers, pet?” 

You don’t answer, instead you grind your ass against him harder and your vision blurs. Just as fast as you sealed your fate he complied and flipped you both over. A hand on your hip to keep your ass up and a hand grabbing the back of your neck keeping your chest down, leaving him with a lovely view of your arched back while he used the hand from your hip to undo his pants just enough to let his throbbing cock free. “Brat.” He growls and you whimper in response while he lines the tip against your greedy hole. You wait for him to press into you, but he never does. You try and lean back but he stops you. “Beg for it first, brat. You were doin so good for me, being such a lovely pet.” He rocks his hips against you, the tip gliding over your entrance, “but you had to go and get greedy. So beg for it, pet. Beg me to fuck you.” 

“Please!” You whine, “I need to feel you inside me. I need it, please ghost.” You look over your shoulder to meet his eyes with your glassy ones. You see his eyes widen slightly before his head rolls back letting out a satisfied groan. He takes the hand off your neck and leans over you, his forearms supporting his weight as he leans down to kiss your ear through the mask, “Call me Simon.” Is all he says before his hips snap to me the curve of your ass, sliding the entire length into you. You yelp, the stretch stings. Your hand comes up to grab the back of his neck “Wait!” You squeak as he’s still waiting for you to give him the all clear before he drags the length back to the tip and snaps forward again. A string of curses and praise fills your ears as he finds his rhythm. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” He pants finally finding the perfect pace to have you seeing stars with each thrust “You feel so good wrapped around me.” 

You clench around him, gripping the sleeping bag under you tighter at the praise and hide your face from his view. “Fuck… so tight, so perfect.” 

He wraps an arm around your chest to pull you close and so you're standing on your knees with your back pressed to his chest. White hot pleasure seemed to have consumed your mind, pushing out any room for anxiety or rationality. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to feel his bare lips on your skin. Before you could stop yourself you were whimpering. 

“Simon… kiss…”

His hips stutter at the mention of his name and he waits no time to kiss your shoulder through his mask. “Nooo!” you whine. “I want to feel you! Please, Simon!.” 

Ghost doesn’t stop thrusting into you but he’s silent, thinking over the request. He tries to ignore it, hoping you would forget about the request and go back to moaning so sweetly for him but he’s meet with whimpers instead, “Simon. Simon please.” You sound so sweet when you say his name. He would never admit it but his head goes a little fuzzy when people say his real name, so used to his alias and code names that it almost doesn’t feel like his name you're saying. “Simon!” You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks from a mix of overwhelming pleasure and need to feel his lips. 

He growls in your ear, “Fuck” and a large warm hand covers your eyes before you feel chapped lips pressed against yours. You don’t mind, in fact you moan when you finally feel his lips against yours, you don’t even mind his stubble scratching the skin on your cheek. When you break apart you gasp for air as he growls still covering your eyes. 

“Desperate needy slag. My desperate needy bitch just can’t get enough can you? My cock not enough for ya’?” He nips at your earlobe, his hand moves from your chest to your lower abdomen and presses firmly against the skin. This makes you groan, clenching harder around him as the pleasure increases with the pressure he adds. 

His hips stutter again before picking up the pace, almost pulling out completely before forcing it back in. “I can feel it.” He whispers, grabbing your wrist and putting your hand where he had his. It takes you a moment to clear your mind enough to focus and feel the dull rhythmic poke behind your skin. The feeling buzzes through you with each thrust, and it doesn’t take much more to send you over the edge. Crying out his name as you clamp down around his cock hard enough to slow him down as he rides you through your orgasm. 

He’s still fucking you when you come down from heaven, shushing you when you start to complain about being too sensitive. He kisses you to keep you quiet, licking and nipping at your lips until he reaches his own euphoria. 

______________

In the morning you are picked up by strange men on snowmobiles and taken to a nearby building for questioning. Ghost had already left by the time you had woken up, but he was nice enough to get you properly dressed before he left. You patiently sit through each question all while his cum is still dripping out of you.

[virtual-luvr]

Morning Cuddles

Pairing: Howl x Reader

Pronouns: he/him

Content: calcifer rambling, domestic, G A Y

Description: domestic mlm, chefs kiss

Note: I watched Howls Moving Castle a few days ago and he gave me such big mlm vibes that I had to do this immediately.

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Different sounds ran throughout the whole castle. Pots clanging, Calcifer rambling, things falling from time to time.

All very familiar and, in a way, homely sounds. You were used to them after all, it happened on the daily and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Calcifer kept on rambling on as you clean up in the kitchen and start preparing breakfast.

"Why can't Howl move this god damn castle by himself, I always have to be doing all the hard work you know? Its infuriating, im an incredibly powerful fire demon and this is how he treats me. You know, you should be helping me man, but of course Howl probably got you wrapped around his finger, eh?"

He said that to you atleast once a day, maybe each few hours as well. At this point you learned to drone out the sound of his voice, knowing he won't stop unless you somehow get him out of there.

Its been years and he still does it, he acts as if he wasnt the one who decided to stay. After all him and Howl werent "connected" anymore. If he wanted to leave, he could whenever he wanted.

You werent very concerned or even trying to get him out so, he'll have to wait.

Suddem footsteps were heard, and as you look up a figure walks down.

Coat hanging off his shoulders, dark hair draping his face, there stood Howl. Beautiful as ever, there was never a chance where he couldn't take your breath away.

"Hello, darling" he says while walking behind you.

Giving you a kiss on the cheek before nuzzling into you. Warm cheek resting on your shoulder.

"Good morning love" you say while cracking some eggs.

Calcifer reaches his fiery hands from underneath the pan, effectively swiping at you jokingly while shouting, "hey im still here ya know?!"

Howl lets out a laugh before pressing a kiss to your neck and moving off of you, giving a greeting to Calcifer and then moving on to helping you with breakfast.

"Now now Calcifer, is it a crime to show some affection to my husband, hm?"

Calcifer grumbles before shoving his face down under the pan, no longer wanting to talk to the two of you.

Howl chuckles at his antics and decided to annoy him more, grabbing your face and spreading kisses everything.

Cheeks, forehead, nose, eyelids, you name it. In the end he plants a soft kiss on your lips and almost makes you forget you were cooking in that moment.

You playfully push his chest a little so you guys could stop and actually prepare some breakfast but he whines, he didnt want to.

In a snap of his fingers you now both sat at a small sofa near the kitchen, him cuddling you and nuzzling his face back into the nape of your neck.

"Howl the food-"

As soon as you say that different ingredients start floating and in the blink of an eye your breakfast is making itself.

Not something that didnt occur, but it certainly wasn't how you normally prepared breakfast. Howl, of course, being how he is he just wanted your attention at the moment.

He got incredibly clingy when it was morning time.

"You better cuddle your husband or ill become your ex-husband soon enough" he says mumbling against your skin.

Of course, as dramatic as always.

You start stroking his hair and he lets out a small sigh.

You now rested on the sofa with Howl on top of you. Giving him a small kiss on the top of his head before resting your chin on top of it. You could already imagine the contempt smile he had on his face right now, life has been so good since you met.

Of course, nothing is perfect, but you were both there for eachother countless of times.

Soft music played in the background as the both of you cuddle on the sofa, it very faint but you could stoll hear it.

And in that moment you felt complete bliss, what a life you lived.

[733 words; feb/22/21]

[animatorweirdo]

When the arrow flies

Fallen for a golden flower

(There was some delay, but here it is. Hope you enjoy and hope you’re ready for action, )

Chapter 11

Warnings: chasing, near death experience, violence, running away, reuniting, some teen romance stuff. 

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The howling of wargs cut through the air. The forest stayed quiet in fear. You and Glorfindel had quickly packed your stuff and saddled the horses, who moved around anxiously. 

Rex whined, stepping aside when you climbed up on his back. You gently shushed, stroking his neck to comfort him. Even though; your heart was anxiously beating too. You nervously glanced at the forest and heard the howls getting closer. 

“They’re coming from the south. It would be too dangerous to go back to your town since it’s too far away, “ Glorfindel stated as he climbed on Asfaloth. “Our best chance would be Rivendell. The trip might take a while, but we will be safe inside its borders,” He explained, looking at you. “Alright,” You nodded. He glanced at the forest. “It's very unusual for them to move in broad daylight. Something must be going on to make them move like this,” He explained. “Whatever it is, stay close to me,” He looked at you with seriousness. “They don’t often dare to approach me but with you by my side. I’m afraid they might try their luck,” He said, which made you shiver at the thought of possibly being attacked, wishing you had your bow. Your father’s hunting knife was the only one you got. 

You two heard the howling again through the air. “We must go now. Follow me. I know a shortcut we can use,” Glorfindel said, clicking his heels and making Asfaloth go into a quick gallop. You did the same and followed him out of the field.

You both rode fast through the forest. Your heart was racing, but you kept your fear and breathing under control because panicking while in danger was not an option. You have faced orcs before, but not a whole pack of them. 

Your heart started accelerating when you saw a couple of warg riders in the corner of your eye. Trees were in the way, so you didn’t see them clearly, but they were there. They ran past you and didn’t start chasing you, bringing some temporal relief. They most likely didn’t because Glorfindel was beside you. 

The elf beside you rode close, watching for possible dangers and ready to take action. 

A warg suddenly appeared, growling and almost snapping your leg with its teeth. The orc upon its back nearly struck you with a sword, so you quickly reacted by taking your hunting knife and shoving it into the orc’s face. 

The orc screeched as it fell from its steed back, tripping the creature and preventing them both from chasing you further. You looked back since the orc took your hunting knife with it,  your father’s gift. 

“Are you alright?” Glorfindel asked. You hesitated to answer for a moment but turned to look at him. “I’m fine!” You said back. Even though: You just lost one of the dearest gifts from your father. 

Glorfindel had a solemn expression on his face, and at that moment, you swear he started glowing with power. 

You two managed to get out of the forest and be safe from the chances of getting ambushed. It seemed that everything was going to be okay, but then you heard the howls and the cursed speech the orcs used. They were after you. 

“Follow me!” Glorfindel rode past you, running in front of you and helping you maneuver obstacles and avoid incoming warg riders. It was hard to control the tension and fear you felt, but you managed to keep yourself calm and guide your horse through the way Glorfindel showed you. 

You then noticed an archer in the distance. Your heart stopped for a moment when the orc released its arrow. You thought you would get hit, but then Glorfindel unsheathed his sword and quickly deflected the incoming arrow with a loud clang before it could strike you. 

You sighed in relief, then followed Glorfindel out of the forest into a riverside. 

You quickly crossed the river and stopped for a moment. Several orcs and their wargs stopped on the side of the river, snarling and cursing on their tongue. There were at least over ten orcs, so you were shocked to know that many had chased you and Glorfindel. 

The orcs snarled and returned to the forest, going elsewhere than continuing their chase upon you and the elf. You were confused but glad to have room for a breather. 

“I know they have a fear of water, but the river was not too deep to be crossed,” You started. “Why didn’t the orcs follow us?” You asked, looking at Glorfindel. “There is power upon the rivers and borders of Rivendell created by the twins. It’s similar to a cirdle that once protected a great elven kingdom before its creator had left its land,” He explained. “That creator is the twin’s great-grandmother,” He smiled. “Ah, Melian the maia,” You said, having heard that name before. He smiled and then proceeded to ride toward a path. You glanced at the river for a moment before following Glorfindel. 

You noticed a lot of activity among the elves when you rode through the gate along with Glorfindel. You felt concerned when you saw them wear armors and hastily prepare for something. They looked like they were preparing for a battle. 

“Glorfindel!” Elured called out when he noticed you coming. You two climbed down from the horses and walked with Glorfindel to meet Elured and Elurin. “Where have you been? The orcs are swarming around the borders and coming in from several passages,” Elured explained. “I know. Not too long ago, we got ambushed on our way here,” Glorfindel said, motioning at you. 

“Ambushed?” Elurin questioned before grabbing you and looking you in the eye. “(Name), Are you hurt? Did they manage to lay a finger on you?” He questioned, checking you out for injuries. “I’m fine,” You said, trying to assure him. “They tried, but Glorfindel managed to protect me from any harm. He also said it would have been too dangerous to go home from where we were, so now we’re here,” You explained. Elurin sighed in relief. Elured touched your shoulder with a soft expression. “It was a good choice, and we’re glad you’re okay,” He said, then turned toward Glorfindel. 

“Ready the troops and deal with the orcs inside the borders. When you are ready, prepare them to march toward Lindon,” Elured explained. “Lindon? What for?” Glorfindel questioned with a concerned tone. “Eregion has fallen,” Elured said. “Celebrimbor has gone missing, and Sauron has made himself known. We’re going to Lindon to join with king Gil-galad and king Oropher,” he explained, then turned toward you. 

“I’m sorry we’re seeing each other off like this, but you will be safe here,” Elured explained, then motioned a servant to come over. “Lindir here will help you with a room,” He explained. You glanced at the servant and saw it was the elf who accidentally broke a pot once. “He will also deal with your needs and anything you ask. Have I made myself clear?” He looked at Lindir. “Y…yes! My lord,” Lindir bowed his head. You glanced at Elured and Elurin. “Thank you, and be careful,” You said, then glanced at Glorfindel. “All of you,” You said, then followed Lindir out of the front yard. 

Glorfindel sighed. “Great, just a moment of peace, and the orcs come right back knocking on our doors,” Glorfindel stated with a shake of his head. Elurin stared at him with a half frown-like expression. “What?” Glorfindel looked back at him. “What were you doing with her before the ambush?” Elurin asked almost with a demanding tone. “We were having a lovely picnic on the field,” Glorfindel smiled. “Then the orcs made themselves known,” He said. 

“So, you have been spending time with (Name)? abandoning your work and vanishing for long periods?” Elured questioned, hands on his hips. “Why? What are you planning?” Elurin stepped forward, making the golden-haired ellon step back and raise his hands. “Nothing! We became good friends, and I like spending time with her. You know, she’s a nice company,” Glorfindel explained. Elurin stood quiet with a stare that almost looked angry.

Elured stepped between them and slapped his hands against their shoulders. “I know our (Name) is precious, but I’m afraid we need to discuss this later. We have bigger things to worry about, like preparing for an upcoming battle,” He said, then glanced at Glorfindel. “But we will be discussing this later,” He patted Glorfindel’s shoulder. Elurin scoffed, then left the two to deal with things. Elured and Glorfindel then proceeded with the preparations and what was to come in the future. 

You sighed, sitting on the balcony, watching the lowering sun and the elves being busy preparing for what was to come, a horrible battle possibly. You did not like the sound of it, especially when you merely escaped death. It would have ended worse if Glorfindel wasn’t there to deflect the arrow. 

Your mind returned to that moment in the field before you were distracted by the sense of danger. That moment when you looked into the eyes of each other, something invisible pulling you together, and how you half closed your eyes as he leaned down - oh! Eru. Were you going to kiss him?

Your heart started accelerating at the thought of feeling his lips upon yours. Eyes widened, and you slapped your mouth. You didn’t hate the idea, especially how you felt about him. The thought made you realize something because you remember him leaning down first. He feels the same about you. 

You mentally whined when you remember pulling away. It was because you felt shivers and like something terrible was going to happen, but Glorfindel most likely took it as a sign of rejection. You hated the thought. How do you bring this up the next time you see him?

Your ears picked up sounds of footsteps then you saw Elrond appearing out of the corner. “Ah, Elrond. Good to see you,” You smiled. “How are you doing despite the current situation that’s going on?” You asked. “I have been doing fine. I heard what happened,” He said, approaching you. “Are you alright?” He asked. “I’m fine. I was merely frightened by the experience,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It was wild, though,” You said, remembering when you almost got shot by the arrow. “I could have died if Glorfindel wasn’t there to protect me,” You stated. Elrond hummed. 

You sighed, looking toward the busy elves. “What do you think is going to happen next?” You asked. “I do not know, but I hope it’s not something we have to sacrifice too much for,” Elrond said. “I wish to join the healers, so I’m able to help many injured as I can,” He said. You hummed silently. 

“I might join as well since I’m here. Rather make myself useful than stand around like a duck,” You said with a chuckle. Someone new appeared on the balcony. 

The maiden had silver-like hair, and her eyes were bright like pearls. She wore a bright white-colored gown with familiar gems hanging from her sleeves and shoulders. She was perhaps one of the most beautiful elves you have ever seen. You also had a feeling you had seen her before. 

You didn’t recognize her at first until Elrond reacted by looking away with a somewhat shy expression on his face. You almost chuckled. This elven maiden was the daughter of lady Galadriel. If you remember correctly, her name was Celebrian or something. 

“Greetings, you must be lady (Name),” Celebrian said, bowing her head toward you. “Yes?” You nodded. “I’m sorry to disturb you on this busy day, knowing what is happening at the borders. I heard what happened to you and lord Glorfindel, so I wished to see if you were doing alright after that experience,” She explained. “Oh, well, as you can see. I’m doing alright. Thank you for your concern, lady -” You said, uncertain about her name. “Celebrian, my lady,” She bowed. “Ah, lady Celebrian,” You nodded. You glanced at Elrond. He was standing there silently, trying to avoid eye contact with the elf maiden. 

“Say, I do not believe we have met before, but I think I have seen you last time at a party. You’re Galadriel’s daughter, right?” You asked. “That is correct,” Celebrian smiled. “It is an honor, but I wonder what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your mother in Lothlorien?” You asked. “I was here for a short visit. Then the orcs arrived, so I have to stay here temporarily until it's safe to travel again,” She explained. “Ah, I see. I understand since I’m in the same predicament. I hope the twins and Elrond here have been hospitable to you,” You said as Elrond’s shoulder stiffened when you brought the attention upon him. 

“Yes, And I humbly thank them for having me here,” Celebrian said, bowing her head toward him. He almost jumped and shook his hands frantically. “It’s nothing. It’s my pleasure and responsibility to make sure the guest feels safe and comfortable, and my uncles are more than happy to have you here,” He explained almost with a high-pitched voice. You almost giggled at the sight. He looked like a rabbit caught in the act. 

“I’m afraid it’s getting later, but if you need anything, lady (Name). You can ask anything from me,” Celebrian said. “Thank you, and please. Just (Name) is fine,” You smiled. “As you wish. I bid you goodnight,” She said, walking away. “Goodnight,” You said with a smile. You two watched as the silver-haired maiden walked away. You then turned toward Elrond. 

“What a lovely girl, isn’t she?” You smiled. “Y..yes! She is,” He said, making you giggle. “Have you tried talking with her more she seems interested?” You asked. “Whatever do you mean?” He asked, his face almost beaming red. “My boy, you were standing like someone was hunting you. Does she make you that nervous?” You asked. “Last time I saw you both talking happily at a party,” You said. He turned away to control his flusters, but his pointy ears gave it away since they were beaming like cherries. 

“Excuse me,” Elrond walked away. “Hey! Don’t run away. You can’t escape your feelings!” You called out. “Bold words from someone pining for a blond elven lord,” He called back. “Don’t change the subject when you’re doing the same for a blond as well,” You said back with a laugh as he disappeared. 

You shook your head with a smile. “Youth,” You muttered as you tried to continue watching the sunset.

[venushasvixens]

October 4th - Hunter/Prey (Din Djarin x Reader) / Kinktober 2021

[A/N] first time ever writing with Mando, and was a lot of fun ✨

WARNING: 18+, contains adult content

Night time.

You didn't take this game so seriously. It was a fun frolic in the woods of Endor, long after the battle of the moon. For once, you wanted to feel like the bounty, running for their dear life from the feared hunter. You had overgone the rules with Din, who thought you were crazy for asking such a fucked up request. Masking it as practice, you really see how quickly the Mandalorian could find you, even if you did decide to run away if you had a falling out.

It wasnt exactly a clear view around you, masked by trees and foliage. Outfit consisting of browns and greens, you made sure that there was no way to find you at all for a good three hours. But a rustle here and there behind you made you oddly suspicious. Paranoia got the better of you, your head snapping back to see what the source of the noise was. It was only an hour, and he gave you a head start. How could he have found you this quickly?

Your flight or fight kicked in. As you ran through the brush, your hood fell off, your hair bellowing in the wind. Great, you thought. All the better to get you caught. Panic seeped into your shoulders as the feeling of being watched grew stronger. You could’ve swore you saw the glint of silver beskar catch your eye in the distance. Just as you come onto a stream and a few large rocks, you hid yourself behind, trying to make yourself blend in as quickly as possible.

The running waters could overcome your panting, while the rocks gave you some shelter to hide behind. One more look around, and your attention went instantly to your tracker. Opening the small screen, you could see a little dot some distance away, inching closer to your location. You prayed that it was an Ewok, since they were so easy to fight off. All you had to do was kick them and they would go flying. Your eyes grew wide as you glanced back onto your tracker, the dot now gone. Oh shit.

“Found you.”

Fear filled your body as you felt the strong hands of the Mandalorian picked you up like a rag doll and shove you into a rock. You came face to face with his smooth daunting mask, not sure whether or not you were looking him straight in the eye underneath his helmet.

“And so the hunter has caught his prey.” Din said, his voice hoarse and amused. His large body pressed right into yours, he made sure you felt all that you had done to him. Unbeknownst to you, watching you ran away from him made Din excited. It was primal and animalistic as he craved to catch you, bringing you in and using you as a reward for catching his prey.

And now that you were here, he has to take his reward now.

The only light was that from the stars, and even that wasn’t enough. You heard the clang of Din’s helmet as it fell onto the ground, and two strong hands lifting your legs around his waist. You gasped as you felt, through however many layers of clothes, his hard cock pressed against your clothed cunt.

“So that's why you were so eager to find me?” You huffed as Din grinded and thrusted against you. You could feel the want and need in his arms as they held you tightly, yelping as he bit down onto your neck.

“I-I couldn't hold it in any longer,” Din’s voice cracked into the small of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “I-I could just eat you u-up, right here, right now.”

Those words sent a shiver down your spine. He needed you so badly, his love bites only a fraction of what he was going to do to you. You could feel your cunt jolt as you craved just as much as he did, allowing yourself to be used and fucked to his liking.

“Then take me.”

That was all you said, a signal to Din for his mauling. In a flash of motion, your pants were thrown off to the side, and pulled down almost all the way. He was going to take you standing, holding your thighs in his strong hands. You both let out a pained moan as he sheathed himself inside you entirely. Balls deep, his thick member stretched you out entirely, threatening to split you in half.

As he ram his hips into your cunt, all you could do was gasp as you tried to adjust to him. It sent waves of ecstasy with each thrust, his strokes erratic as he aimed to drink in this moment. How desperately you wanted to see the expression on his face, lost and concentrated as he fucked into your tight hole. You felt so small as Din engulfed your body, but that was perfect. You were easy enough to handle and control and thats how Din liked it with you when it came to this.

“G-gods, I’m making you mine tonight,” He snarled in your ear as his hips rolled even harder into you, stamina stronger than before. “You’re all mine.”

At first all he wanted was to be inside you, using your pussy to milk him for all the cum he had in him. It was with precision as his cock hit your cervix with each stroke, making sure that every inch of your pussy was marked with his touch. All you could do was scream as he tore into you, a howl that pierced the night sky. The squelching sounds of your juices was drowned out by all the feral cacophony that emitted from your mouths. Caterwauls, moans and yowls as you felt the incoming explosive ball of euphoria looming over you both.

“P-please, oh stars, D-din.” You cried, nails digging into the back of his head. You decided this was the time to return his favor by biting down onto his exposed neck, latching on. You only made it worse as Din sped up, nearly knocking you out unconscious by the brutal force of it.

You were already over the edge, mindlessly cumming on his cock. Overstimulated, your orgasm stretched out longer than normal, something that has never happened before. One, two, three thrusts was all it took as hot ropes of cum spurted inside you, the Mandalorian completely unhinged. Each pant sounded so pained, full of relief but with a beastly undertone. It was so similar to the sound of a monster coming to the end of a fight, attempting to calm down and retreat, with a few scratches here and there.

Your cheek rested onto Din’s cold beskar chest plate. As you tried to catch your breath, you could hear the Mandalorian trying to utter a few words as they got caught in his throat. It brought you immense pride that you rendered one of the most feared bounty hunter’s in the galaxy speechless.

“You’re amazing.” He finally said, leaving a kiss on the temple of your forehead. “D-didnt know you had that in you, angel.”

“Don’t act like you didn't have any part in it.” You smiled weakly, feeling the soft gumble of a chuckle vibrate against your face.

“Now, come on,” he groaned as lifted off himself, “lets get back to the ship.”

[myclownjunction]

The real thing! Karl Heisenberg x reader

GUUUUUUYS I SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT, I JUST EH, CONFESSION TIME I HAD A WET DREAM, YES ABOUT KARL FRIKIN HEISENBERG SO NSFW AHEAD YOU'VE BEEN WARNED! JUST FOR REAL THIS IS NOT FOR MINORS SCATTER AWAY!

WARNING: size difference, blood, swearing a bit, twisted reader, Metal magnetto man with a huge ass hammer, that destroys your poor soul but you love it...

You liked to read A LOT about the man named Karl Heisenberg and damn you liked him since your play with your friend of Resident Evil 8, but the fandom made it hard for you not to notice a lot of things, like his hands, movements, sturdiness, cockiness, clothing, and how tall he was, how different he was, his eyes, his scars his everything and you knew every possible fanfiction featuring reader (you) x him. You came many times only imagining what he could do to you with his power, but you somehow felt unsatisfied, as you decided to take bath and relax but you failed to hear the quiet crashes and clangs of metal that was vibrating now and then, as you drained the bath, you reached for the soft black cotton towel, as you dried your wet body from the water and dried your hair. You went into your room, as you felt a rather strange smell, like leather and motor oil you lived with friends, as you blamed it on them, you dressed your fav pajama and slid into the softest of your bed, the warmness made you dreamy and you slid into the darkness of your dreams. 

You dreamed of him the things he did to you, oh damn you had a wet dream, as you were almost there you were awakened by the strange feeling of being watched, as you were trying to gain your consciousness still in your sleep haze you spotted something terrifying, two yellow eyes were peering at you from the darkness of the room, the room was filled with the smell again but this time accompanied by tobacco smell as you still thought you were dreaming you heard a grave voice. "Oh-ho-hoooo, look at the little human being naughty, naughty kitten, what thoughts about me do they have. Dirty, DIRTY LITTLE TOUGHS, huh!" he roared with laughter making you fully awake and terrified now "Oh nooo!" he let his hand slide the huge hammer to the wall with a mocking coo he rose to his full heigh "But you summoned me, little one...oh yes you did, I'll give you what you want but don't think I will be easy on you little kitten. After all, you want this, do you? Yes you DO!" he smiled with his sharp fangs present, the sight of his wide smiling toothy grin made you frozen in place with fear, he bent down and smiled "Let's see what are you made of little kitten, shall we!?", you tried to scatter away but it was useless, you were cornered. As he jumped over you nearly crushing you, you thanked every single god that he didn't as he took a deep inhale he looked at you with these two yellow embers making you whimper with excitement but too afraid of what will happen next, he was tall and so sturdy, a well-built man his smell was so intoxicating, he was so tall that you felt like a small lamb cowering in fear in front of the big bad wolf, now you were scared and this my friend only turned him more on. "Tasty, tasty, beautiful little lamb, I wonder what your taste is like?" he launched at you but instead of ripping you into sherds, he kissed you so messily drawing blood from the collide with your lips, you were so shocked that you responded to the kiss, as you felt his tongue evading your mouth fighting for dominance and winning as he caged you, you tried to push away but it was useless he was powerful, you didn't even budge, as his tongue was exploring your mouth and making you choke for air as he withdrew salvia connecting your mouths. You, on the other hand, were trying to gain some air, greedily taking in the so much-needed oxygen.

 He laughed as he slid to your neck and bit making you scream and arch into him, he smiled as he lapped your blood "So naive, so stupid little human, I can rip you in sherds and still you want me to fuck you, to make you take my brood. Oh little buttercup, I will give you what are you wishing for!" he ripped your pajamas and left you exposed to him, as you tried to cover yourself, he used his hand to pin your hands over your head, he tsk at you "No, no little one, don't be shy one, you little filthy beasty!" he licked his lips as he without rising a finger let his buckle snap open the zipper slid down as the bulge that was hidden by the pants was enormous for you he then took off his hat and glasses, sliding his boxers off his cock sprang and twitched like it had mind on its own! You were terrified now that was so huge how would you even take it in, he was thick and long, you whimpered and tried to break free as he snarled "Little warning, sweet little lamb, try this trick again and rip you in half but the other way!" he said it rather calmly as you laid there accepting your fate, he let his tip slide in as you were lready wet from the happening his head was fully in you making you moan at the alien sensation inside of your body, the intrusion of something so big as you felt you womb being almost torn in half you screamed in pain as you saw black spots in your vision you almost blacked out you hear him taunting you "Oh what is it little one can't handle ole' Heisenberg? I thought that what you all wanted to be brood by me?" he licked the blood from your neck, as he bit down again, but this time you felt something strange like you was under some kind of drug you felt him shudder in you as you felt the first pang of pleasure and not pain. You moaned as you looked at his half-lidded amber eyes peering at you and smile as you reached over to him as he leaned and kissed you messily, you tasted your blood as he purred and started pumping into you deep and hard you were drooling and moaning bloody mess, but he somehow liked it, he liked your little filthy mind that called out to his electrical field caught his attention and somehow he teleported here, and he accepted it, he needed to relax a bit and have fun, right away from this shitty family and Bitch Miranda! He pumped into you hard and deep slamming you into the bed almost breaking it with you as he took you and every surface of your room you were passing out for the many orgasms your poor body suffered and the drug made you go as he pumped you with some kind of adrenaline to numb your pain and brain to think straight. 

He then quickened as he was chanting something in a foreign language hard for your little brain to understand but you thought it sounded like german but you didn't need to so you let it slide past as he roared and pumped you full of his seed as some of the seed was spilling past your hole and down your tights as the other fill that he pumped deep into you making your belly bulge with his brood, as he stilled he took few breaths and he was looking rather strangely, licking his scarred lips he muttered something that you heard this time "Du wirst für immer meins sein, Kätzchen!" (You'll be mine forever, kitten!) as he kissed your lips and whispered "Be careful what you wish for little one, it might come true, alas I think I'll visit you...more often now!" he looked down at your belly and gave it few pats and a loving kiss "More often, that you think!" he smiled and howled in laughter, everything was on him as if nothing had happened, his hammer flew to his hand and he winked disappearing with a zap as the only thing that left after him has destroyed bedroom and a bit of blood splattered everywhere, you laid there totally worn out as was in post orgasming trance you smiled and licked your lips where he kissed you, you were waiting for him to return after all he was right, you were a twisted beasty and that was only for him!

Holy SHIT I'm twisted! I'm so damn twisted I...I...*bursts into flames*

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 17

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory @justbreakonme @downrivergirl914 @cdragontogacotar @whumps-up @vaguelyhumanvoid @kim-poce

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, fingore, amputation, mentions of alcohol/being drunk

-

It was the middle of the night- probably- when Rowe was startled awake. He could hear the sound of the door at the end of the corridor unlocking, impossibly loud against the silence. There was a shuddering bang as it struck the wall. Kasia had slammed it open. He was angry.

The next sound was footsteps, irregular and heavy. Stumbling.

Ice ran down Rowe’s spine. It was stupid, he knew, but the fact that it was night-time made everything worse. It was night. It was dark. He was chained up in his old master’s basement for being a stupid, bad, ugly little dog, and he was going to start screaming in pain very soon.

He tried to focus his eyes. He was here, in the present. He was chained to the floor in Kasia’s personal torture chamber. Not much better. Oh, god, and why had he charged in in the middle of the night?

Was this it?

I’m a person, I deserve, fuck, uh, I deserve to be cared for, I’m, I’m, I have worth, I don’t-

Kasia stepped into view, looking down at Rowe with half-lidded eyes. He had dark, bruised knuckles on one hand. His weight shifted unevenly along his hips.

He grabbed the key to the cell, but before he unlocked it, he leant out of sight and dragged the duffle bag towards him.

It had been there the whole time. Rowe hadn’t realised. Kasia unlocked the door, pocketing the key again, and kicked the bag through roughly. The sound of metal clattering inside made Rowe’s skin crawl. It had only been a few seconds since he’d first woken up and his head was pounding.

He stayed very still, watching, waiting. Not wanting to do anything to piss Kasia off more.

The kicks weren’t too bad- his aim was off, tonight, and Rowe could grit his teeth and take it. Maybe he just needed to quickly let off some steam, maybe this time he wouldn’t bother with his sadistic creativity.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” he spat, reaching down to grab Rowe’s hair. He missed, swung again then blanched and pulled himself back up. He took a shaky step back to right himself and a hand came to rest on his belly. “Stand up. Stand the fuck up! I’m not crouching down. Ugh.”

Rowe stammered, words failing him for a few seconds as he tried to push through the fear and reply. “I-I-I can’t, I’m ch-chained to the f-f-f-floor-“

“Fuck,” Kasia shouted and Rowe whimpered, pulling back. Kasia yanked the duffle bag up and began digging through.

A smile spread across his face and Rowe’s heart stopped when Kasia pulled out a pair of bone shears. He hooked them onto his thumb while he continued to rummage until he retrieved a key.

Rowe realised it was the key to his collar. Kasia grabbed his hair successfully this time, pulling Rowe up so effortlessly he could have been made of paper. God, he was still so hungry.

The collar fell open and Rowe stayed where he was, hanging pathetically from Kasia’s hand. His lips parted to ask what he planned to do with those shears, but sick fear kept his tongue clamped down.

“Stand up then,” he snapped, his eyes burning two holes into Rowe’s. He obeyed without a thought, and Kasia locked his fingers around his throat, slamming him against the far wall. It was the hand holding the bone shears, and the thumb hoop pressed against his windpipe like a threat.

Oh hell, Rowe thought, staring up at the ceiling. Is he going to slit my throat?

“I’m going to fuck you up,” Kasia growled, and a few tears slipped down Rowe’s cheeks. Kasia’s free hand suddenly grabbed his left wrist, holding it up, looking at it.

Rowe did he best to keep breathing through his rising terror. “Pl-please, please d-d-don’t, have mer-mercy, pl-“

Kasia pulled his wrist out straight with such ferocity that Rowe’s pleas died immediately, turning instead to gasps of horror. The hand holding the bone shears left his neck, opening wide like a jaw.

It all happened too fast. The bone shears clamped down onto Rowe’s ring finger, only slowing when they struck bone, but within seconds his finger was severed and blood was streaming from the fresh wound.

For a few moments everything was silent; the only sound was the ringing in his ears. His vision splintered, the form of Kasia blurring before him, and bile quickly rose in his throat as he screamed. Oh, god. Oh god oh god my finger he really did it no please no no no no it’s not real it’s not real.

Kasia released Rowe’s wrist and took a step back, admiring his work while Rowe howled. Both pairs of eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring at the empty space between Rowe’s fingers.

“Now,” he slurred, drawing up his weapon hand once more. “I’ll make it symmetrical for you, Pet.”

All Rowe could do was try to get away. He didn’t think about it, he just knew he had to. Kasia filled the entire space before him, a great towering beast. There was nowhere to go except to stumble on his weak legs towards the corner of the cell.

Kasia smiled at this pitiful display and moved forwards, when it happened. His foot landed in the fresh pool of blood and onto Rowe’s finger and he slipped.

Rowe had until Kasia hit the floor to make a choice. As his tormentor’s back struck the concrete, Rowe chose.

He thrust his arms forward and grabbed the duffle bag, and fuck, it was heavy. It must have been adrenaline and the raging thrill of disobedience that imbued his limbs with the strength to heave it up and send it whirling into Kasia’s head. It connected with a rusty clang and Kasia let out a thick groan, collapsing.

There wasn’t a second to lose. Rowe reached out with his good hand, the one with all five fingers, and gripped the chain still attached to the floor anchor. Pulling it up, he twisted towards the dazed and hurt Kasia, and wrapped it around his neck, gritting his teeth and begging silently for this to work. He pulled as hard as he could.

Kasia’s hands shot up to Rowe’s, scrabbling and writhing. His nails easily broke the skin along Rowe’s taut, pale-white knuckles in a desperate attempt to get free, but Rowe was used to pushing through pain. He dug his feet in and summoned his whole weak, malnourished body to help him.

“You- fu- ugh!” Kasia’s words failed as the chain around his throat only tightened. He kept struggling, thrashing his legs until they were soaked with Rowe’s blood. One hand stayed scratching around the chain, while another reached up to claw at Rowe’s face, but Rowe easily evaded it.

It was sickening. He was hurting him, he was being a bad Pet, he was forgetting his place, he was going to become a murderer if he didn’t let up soon.

Kasia’s arms fell limply down. His legs stopped kicking. Rowe loosened the chain just a little, leaning forward and listening. He was breathing- just. Unconscious. Good.

“I hate you,” Rowe whispered.

His skin was still prickling with terror, and he dug around in Kasia’s various jacket pockets until he found what he needed. The collar snapped shut around Kasia’s neck nicely, the click of the lock filling the room.

Finally, he could breathe. He noticed a watch on Kasia’s left wrist- it truly was the middle of the night. Rowe had to go. He had come too far now. It would be cold. There would be people about. He was drenched in blood, old and new, and had burns, sores, bruises, and a neck bearing all the hallmarks of a collar. He decided to take Kasia’s jacket. It wasn’t much, but it would keep him warm, and hopefully make him look less like an escaped Pet.

Before he put it on he ripped a portion of Kasia’s t-shirt and did his best to staunch his wound. It would have to do. He draped the jacket over his shoulders and opened the cell door, taking a last look inside. Kasia was lying in a pool of blood, more similar to a corpse than a living being, the collar trapping him within the confines of the short chain. To the walls, and the tap, but not the door. The duffle bag lay near him and Rowe pulled it out of reach, just in case anything inside could double as a lockpick. Somewhere in the midst of all the gore was Rowe’s finger, but he couldn’t mourn it. Better it was left in there, rather than him.

He shut and locked the door, and turned to look down the corridor, his heart in his mouth. It was short, with only four cells on either side. He walked down it, and-

Yes, oh thank fuck yes, his suspicion had been correct. He had truly heard it. The sound of the door at the end of the hall opening- and nothing else.

Kasia, in his wondrous, amazing, heaven-sent state of drunkenness, had forgotten to lock it behind him. The keypad sat uselessly on the side of the open door.

He reached the exit. This was it.

Rowe pulled the jacket tighter, and ran.

[akampana]

“ it’s just an innocent kiss. “ a little innocence with ko-gil and lily

an innocent kiss__________

Words: 1k

Characters: Child Gilgamesh | Archer, Artoria Pendragon Lily | Saber, Artoria Pendragon | Saber, Gilgamesh | Caster etc

Ship: Ko-Gil & Artoria Lily

Tags: Fluff

featuring: CasGil Art, cause why not?

_______________

Okay. That just happened.

There was more than enough chaos going round what with there being three Gilgameshes and…an alarming amount of Arturias. The situation was, of course, made worse by the simple fact that the former would always pursue the latter, no matter what shape, form, or method, with a limited amount of success.

In fact, such success was so unreachable, so out-of-this-world, so unthinkable, that nobody in Chaldea could imagine the blue Saber ever letting Gilgamesh’s mouth land on her lips.

But she did.

The whole world’s gravity shifted. Staff stopped typing at their computers. Servants’ hair stood on end. Ritsuka felt his jaw drop. No one, absolutely no one could even breathe. Not for the next minute.

And then the bluest Arturia pulled away, loosening her grip on the wide collar of Caster’s nonsensical vest.

Several crashes resounded through the hallways as the Earth began to turn again. Shakespeare tripped over Hans. Iskandar bellowed an unwarranted congratulations that rendered both Ozymandias and Napoleon deaf. Phantom screamed an unholy chorus of Christines. Mash’s shield clanged onto the floor as Ritsuka innocently turned toward her. Every Berserker began to howl amidst the chaos.

Seemingly, the only truly unaffected person in the entirety of Humanity’s last bastion, was Arturia herself. She calmly retreated without a sound, leaving behind a slightly flushed CasGil who gently held two fingers to his lips. Caster seemed like he was lost in a world of his own, completely oblivious to the teasing of a laughing Lancer Cú and the slaps on the back from an ecstatic King of Conquerors.

“So…” said the youngest of the Gilgameshes, kicking up non-existing dust while his lovely flower fanned her burning blush away. Lily had reacted to “the kiss” the least violently out of all her counterparts, fainting instead of deciding to go on a manhunt. In Ko-gil’s opinion, hers was a reaction a little more appropriate than what the other kids proceeded to do.

Nursery Rhyme was still screaming incoherently as she scrambled between covering Jack’s eyes or her mouth. Alexander had his face frozen with his tongue out and was slowly turning greener by the second. Sétanta was wringing his hands, shouting his fifteenth “EW!” as he jumped around.

But now that Lily was awake again and her blush was beginning to subside, Ko-gil had a chance to act on his envy.

“...Can I get one too?” he asked slowly, tilting his head to his head to the side as the taller girl turned to look at him.

Lily froze faster than water in a snowstorm. For a while, the child in modern clothes wondered if she had even heard him. By the blank expression on her face, it sure didn’t seem that way.

A beat. Two.

“E-ehh?!?”

Lily’s fair skin glowed tomato red for a second time, blood rushing up all the way to her ears. However, the tiny Archer was unfazed, tilting his head a little further with a smile like sunshine on his face. She could be so cute sometimes, and so pretty. Ko-gil really did think she was like a white flower bud about to bloom. This time, however, he supposed she was more like a rose bud with how red she was getting.

Arturia Lily floundered around, her arms flying in front of her face. Whatever grace and poise her foster mother and Merlin had instilled in her evaporated in an instant. Meanwhile, the nicest Gilgamesh kept up his tiny grin, making her realize he was being serious.

“W-well…” the young squire started, shyly twiddling her fingers. The small Archer looked up at her expectantly.

“To be completely honest, Ko-gil, I think we’re a bit too young?” she said, a little doubtful of her own words. Servants were a little tricky when it came to age, but she was sure she still classified as a child, and so did Ko-gil. It was literally in his name.

The boy pouted before she even finished her explanation. “Aw, come on, Lily, it's just an innocent kiss,” he reasoned, folding his arms. Lily thought it wise not to comment on how much he resembled his older self (the one with the updo, who had been leaning on the wall after 'the kiss', looking a little disgruntled).

“Still,” she argued back, still fanning her face as Ko-gil’s pout increased in intensity. The bluest King of Knights used to complain about how much of a brat both adult Gilgameshes could be. Apparently those tendencies took root a little earlier in life, even if Ko-gil was still the most polite of the three. And the sweetest. And the cutest.

Bollocks. Lily said internally, mimicking her older brother’s exasperated tone. What am I thinking? Ah, no, no, no. A king should be more resolute. But then…

Lily’s shoulders slumped as she gave a heavy sigh. She motioned for the smaller boy to come forward, heart once again beating like a frantic rabbit’s.

His pout now replaced by a charming grin, Ko-gil got on his toes and puckered up, only to feel her hands gently pushing his bangs away. Not a moment later, a soft set of lips landed on his forehead for a brief, but precious, second.

And then Lily stiffened like a board, scrambled to find words to say, and bailed. She ran, probably to Merlin, with her hands covering a furiously blushing face.

Ko-gil stood stunned as Alexander and Sétanta erupted into a fit of hoots and hollers. He didn’t move even as his two friends poked and prodded him, busy holding two gentle hands to where Artoria Lily had bestowed upon him a kiss. Slowly, his face began to color, his skin burning with a feeling somewhere between happiness and embarrassment.

Sétanta’s glance traveled between the frozen Ko-gil and Caster Gil. The latter still stood with a hand to his lips in the middle of the hallway, steady as stone while Cú Chulainn snapped his fingers in front of his face. Iskandar met Alexander’s eyes. They both shrugged. Guess it was a Gilgamesh trait, no matter what age.

________

Hope u liked this! Haven't written pure fluff in a while lmao ty for the ask!!!

-akampana

[littlemissnoname13]

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader) - Part 5

Summary: y/n and Draco find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader ft. Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini

Warnings: Excessive smoking, mature language and themes, smut labeled as ⚜️, 18+ content, reader discretion is advised, also Draco is kinda soft in this one. Just sayin.

A/n: Ik this was supposed to be the final part but I wanted to wrap things up properly. The last part will be dedicated to the ball itself.

A massive thank you to everyone that has read WOS. Your feedback makes me so fkn happy. I love you all sm.

Word count: 3700

Link to Part one, two, three, and four if you haven’t read them already.

My other stories are over here. And you can join my tag list here.

As always, Smoking is injurious to health y’all.

24th December

Home was just the way you’d remembered it. 

From the Goldchild Ivy covering the white colored walls and the stepping stones leading all the way to the main entrance to the way your parents kept nagging you about your “future” with Adrian Pucey.

“You still haven’t told me what kind of dress you’d like to wear to the ball.” Your mum reminded you after taking a small sip from her wine glass. 

“I don’t know mother.” You sighed,stabbing repeatedly at the sautéed mushroom on your plate. “Can’t I wear something I already own? Like the blue one I wore last year.”

“Well, what is Adrian wearing? May I suggest some colour coordinating?” 

“I really don’t know mother.” You coughed. 

“Well, why don't you ask him?”

“I can't.” You mumbled dropping your fork on your plate. The loud clanging sound earned you an eyebrow raise from your otherwise quiet father. 

“Why not?”

“We broke—we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” You said quietly before quickly standing up and dismissing yourself from the dining table before your parents could ask you a thousand questions.

As you walked away from the table and towards the balcony, you could still hear your parents calling after you while simultaneously speculating about just what you may have done to scare Adrian away. 

You weren’t going to tell them about Draco because you weren’t even sure what to tell them.

I broke up with Adrian because I’m sleeping with Draco Malfoy.

Yes, the one that is getting engaged soon. 

No we’re not together.

I may or may not have developed feelings for him.

Yes, it is inconvenient because I have no idea how he feels. 

Did I mention he is getting engaged? 

You tugged on the sleeves of your sweater to warm your hands up as you stared up at the surprisingly clear night sky splattered with only a few clouds and shimmering stars. 

You took it upon yourself to start counting the stars to distract yourself from thinking about Draco again.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was standing on the balcony of his room trying not to think of you too. 

The only difference for him was that the sky was a little less cloudy where he lived and he wasn’t going to bother counting stars. 

“Happy Christmas Draco.” You whispered to yourself,staring at the shiny emerald ring on your finger. 

“Happy Christmas Y/n.” Draco mumbled into the night air as he fidgeted with your amethyst ring. 

~~~~~~~~~~

25th December

It was a surprisingly quiet Christmas Morning at the Y/l/n household. 

Your parents were still fast asleep when you walked towards the kitchen to fix yourself a cup of coffee. 

It was probably because your parents hadn’t quite processed your break up with Adrian and had spent their night discussing it.

Seeing it was Christmas, you decided to put a dash of white chocolate and whipped cream in your cup of caffeinated goodness in order to feel a bit more festive.

You were feeling anything but festive. 

There was a kind of dread crushing your insides when you thought about the ball. 

You’d have to watch him dance with her and kiss her lips at midnight. 

Fuck, you’d have to congratulate him after he slipped a ring onto her perfectly manicured finger. 

Just when you were about to take a sip of your drink, you heard a knock on your door. 

You frowned and walked towards the door because it was way too early on in the morning for anyone to come over. 

When you yanked the door open, you saw him of all people, standing on the other side of the door with his white blond hair messier than usual. 

He was wearing one of his rare genuine smiles that showed his pearly whites making you feel wobbly in the knees. 

“Draco—What are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas to you too.” He said with the smile still fixed on his lips. “Tell me y/l/n is this how you greet all of your houseguests?”

“How rude of me.” You muttered to yourself still befuddled as you stepped back to let him in. “Come in, sit down. Cup of tea?”

“I’m actually in a bit of a hurry.” He said as he fidgeted with his blazer pocket. “Just came to drop off something—ugh hold this.” 

He placed a pack of cigarettes in the palm of your hand before fumbling with his pocket again. 

“Ahh. There we go.” He retrieved a lilac colored box from his pocket and brought it back to its normal size before handing it to you.

“What’s this?” 

“What does it look like y/n?”

“But—But I haven't even gotten you anythi—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, tenderly pressing lips against yours. 

The softness of his lips made the heaviness you were feeling on your shoulders fade away as you faded into him—only him and the way he held you firmly around the waist as he suckled on your bottom lip.

“Thank you.”  You whispered burying your face into his chest, trying to inhale a scent of his cologne. “Thank you.”  

When Draco left, you ran up to your room and opened the lilac box to find a blush coloured slip dress folded neatly with a note on top of it written in his neat handwriting.

~~~~

Dear Y/n

I really am sorry about what happened to your old silk dress but I just couldn’t help myself. 

I hope you’ll understand.

I also hope I get to see you wear this one someday.  

Yours,

D.L.M

~~~~~~~~~~~

26 December 

The day after Christmas, the boys decided to do a little cleanup. 

Quidditch and house memorabilia, novelty artefacts they no longer cared enough for and items of emotional value. 

The boys wanted a fresh start. 

A clean break.

A clean slate. 

Theo and Blaise were done with their cleaning so they were now at the Manor helping Draco who was surprisingly not very convinced about the whole “fresh start” ordeal. 

“Remember this?” Theo chuckled, clearing out all the books that covered Draco’s desk and using his wand to cast a quick spell that revealed carvings they’d made the summer before their second year.

“Oh?” Blaise gleefully raised his eyebrows walking towards Theo. “I’d forgotten about this.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and followed Blaise and the three boys stood around the table reading out everything they’d managed to carve out. 

There were some very unholy words, tally sticks and unfortunate looking doodles of Harry on the table.

“Theodore Nott was here.” Draco read out loud looking unimpressed.

“Read this one.” Theo chuckled pointing at a carving. “Daphne Greengrass + Blaise Zabini.”

“Hey! We were barely second years.” Blaise protested while his eyes kept scanning the table. 

As Blaise’s vigilant eyes trailed to the farthest corner of the table, a wicked grin started to form across his cheeks making Draco’s face turn pale. 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Blaise read out loud smirking at Draco. “Well well Malfoy—From the second year?...Interesting.” 

“It was always obvious even though he expressed himself in questionable ways.” Theo shrugged. 

“What was obvious?” Draco quirked an eyebrow with a scowl on his face. 

“The fact that you were and are absolutely enamoured with y/n.” Theo rolled his eyes. “It has always been obvious to everyone but you. Back me up here Zabini.” 

Draco crossed his arms and looked at Blaise who just gave him an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry but he’s right mate.”

“I am not enamoured with y/n.” 

“If you say so.” Blaise shrugged.

“And what if I were?” Draco spat, clearly irked by the condescending look on Blaise’s face.

“If you are, then I only have one question for you.” Blaise said with carefully selected words.

“And the question is?” 

Blaise went quiet for a brief second before looking at Draco, dead set in the eye.

“What is holding you back, Malfoy?” 

~~~~~~~~~~

27th December

Draco wondered what life decisions he’d taken to find himself seated at a murky little pub with Astoria reclining against his shoulders—sipping on Butterbeer. 

Pansy, Theo and Blaise were taking shots next to him and you were awkwardly seated right across the table next to Adrian fucking Pucey. 

What was he doing here anyway? Who even invited him? 

Even though he’d overheard you telling Pansy that Adrian was there only because of your parents nagging you, seeing you seated together bothered him nonetheless. 

Draco wasn’t even meaning to eavesdrop on your conversation with Adrian but he just couldn’t help but divert all his attention to your sweet voice and the way your lips moved. 

You were telling Adrian about the sweet shop next door and Draco’s lips involuntarily twitched and curved upwards when he noticed just how excited you were about sweets.

It was like you softened him—made him vulnerable. And the whole feeling terrified him.

Between smoking his fifth cigarette, occasionally chatting with Astoria and looking at you from the corner of his eye, one rather simple thought encircled Draco’s mind. 

Why didn’t he knock Pucey off his broom when he had the chance to?

~~~~~~~~~

28th December

Lightning crashed. Thunder clapped.

Fat drops of rain started to fall on the enormous glass window in Draco’s bedroom. 

You placed your finger on the glass as you watched the infinite droplets race all the way to the bottom of the window.

The howling winds brought in the scent of wet grass and sent the dark curtains flying in all different directions.

You took in the smell of fresh rain and sighed sinking blissfully into his embrace.

Lucius and Narcissa were away, preparing for the upcoming ball and Draco had owled you asking to meet. 

And so, both of you were now sitting on the windowsill in his room that was much larger than the one in the abandoned classroom. 

In fact, it was so spacious that it served as his own personal reading nook—complete with a velvety throw blanket and some cushions. 

His hands held open a book and you let yourself get comfortable between his long limbs, still counting raindrops on the window. 

“What are you doing?” He asked looking towards you and away from the worn out pages of his book. 

“I’m watching the raindrops race each other.” You said with your eyes still fixed on the glass. “infinite little droplets.”

“It's just rain.” He shrugged as his eyes went back to his book. “Quite mundane if you ask me.”

Sure rain was mundane. 

But this rain felt different. It sent you into a state of melancholia. 

You couldn’t dare to tell him but those infinite droplets resembled the amount of times you’d wanted to tell him that you loved him. 

Even though you couldn’t find the courage to tell him, it was like the look in your eyes gave it all away.

It made his features soften as he slowly shifted and got up from the nook to fully open the window.

You shielded yourself as cold drops of rain started to hit your face. “What in the actual fuck?” 

“Shut up and follow me.” He said as he climbed out of the window and onto the ledge.

“Are you mental?” 

“Just do as I say.” He said helping you onto the ledge. 

Both of you laughed hysterically as the rain seeped through your clothes as you sat on the ledge with your bare feet dangling in the air. 

One wrong move and both of you could fall to our deaths. But there came an adrenaline rush with the risk of it all. 

He pushed away the hair sticking to your face and brought your face close to his before pressing his rain soaked lips to yours. 

Theo was right. 

He was fucking enamoured.

~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~~~

After coming back inside, you walked into his ensuite to fix your ruined hair and cast a quick drying charm to your clothes before heading home.

You had barely managed to pick at the tangles in your wet hair when an equally soaked Draco walked up behind you—clothes sticking to his toned body and hair sticking to his face. 

“Draco. Sorry for hogging the mirror. I thought I’d be done sooner but these tangles are—hmmm.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and pressed his cold lips against the base of your neck.

Even though your hair was entangled and unruly, you looked bewitching to him.

Especially the way the thin and drenched fabric of your seafoam colored dress draped your body—transparent and accentuating all your curves. 

He just couldn’t help himself from unzipping your dress while he admired the sight of your dress slowly leaving your body in the mirror in front of you both. 

“Draco?” You whispered as you watched his lips move their way from your neck to your shoulders. His hands gently gripping and massaging your breasts. 

“Yes?” He whispered into your hair as he began nipping on your earlobe—his hands never leaving your breasts. 

You wanted to tell him that you were in love with him but the words just refused to leave your lips. 

“I—I missed you so much.” You said instead as you watched the corners of his mouth twitch. 

He didn’t say a word back.

Hips lips were too occupied with sucking love bites against your skin. 

He didn’t need to tell you that he missed you too. The deep reddish purple markings on your body said it all. 

Draco intertwined his fingers around yours and placed your palms flat against the marble basin in front of you. 

Your dainty fingers brought out the verdant tones of the emerald ring and Draco couldn’t help but admire his family heirloom on you. 

He slowly moved his hands up your arms and let them brush against your bare back—trailing lower and lower till he was barely touching your soaking wet cunt.

“You like it when I touch you here?” He murmured pushing one of his fingers inside for a fleeting second. 

“Hmmm.” You moaned gripping tightly onto the basin and pushing your hips backwards to get more. 

Draco brought his hand to your arse and struck once causing you to hiss through your teeth. 

“Words darling—use your words.”

“Yes….” You whimpered, opening your eyes to stare into the reflection again. There was a kind of unrestrained hunger in his eyes that only made you want him more. 

“Good girl...so fucking perfect..so beautiful.” 

He reached out and wrapped his left hand around your throat and brought your face close to him while the pad of his right thumb rubbed steady circles on your throbbing clit. 

He loved that you were always so wet and ready for him. 

“Draco..I want you inside me..Please..” 

He could have spent hours on end just teasing you with his fingers and tongue if he could. There was just something about you that just made him want to take his time to worship you—to ruin you. 

But time was not on his side and the reflection in front of him was making him increasingly impatient so he did not tease you any further. He simply unbuckled his trousers and pushed his cock where it belonged. 

“Fuck...yes Draco..”

A whimper let your lips at the sudden push and your knuckles turned pale as you gripped tightly onto the marble basin. 

“Look at you…” He murmured against your shoulder as he stared ahead into the mirror—his cock pounding in and out of you. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” 

He let go of your throat and used his hands to hold your hips firmly in place as he fucked you mercilessly. 

Every time you two had fucked before this, Draco had constantly reminded himself to be a little gentle with you—but today, he wanted to wreck you.

He wanted you to scream his name in a bittersweet mix of pure pleasure and pain as he fucked you relentlessly.

“More...Draco...oh..fuck…yes.” 

Beads of tears started to slip out of your eyes and you started to squirm—clenching him inside of you as your started to feel your orgasm approach. 

“Don’t.” He growled digging his nails into the flesh at your hips. “Don’t fucking come just yet.” 

You winced when he slipped himself out before carrying you back to his room where he sat down at the edge of the bed—positioning you on his lap with your legs on either side as he slipped back into you. 

Draco let you adjust to the new position for a few seconds as you gripped his shoulders as you moved your hips, slowly riding his cock. 

“My perfect little slut.” He sighed cupping your face in his hands as you continued to move against him. 

After letting you ride him for a little longer, he gripped your hips and started to pound into you making your tits bounce up and down. 

“Feels so good Draco—feels so fucking good. Oh god yes.”

With one hand on your arse and his mouth attached to your nipple Draco kept thrusting into you till the room was filled with the sound of your screams mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the sound rain splattering against the window glass. 

“Fuck y/n...your cunt is so perfect, you take me so fucking good..god.” 

“Harder…”

“So good when you clench me in like that... fuck y/n..I need to fucking fill you up…”

“Draco please..don’t fucking stop...oh..I’m so close..”

You always submitted to him so easily, he enjoyed the control he had over you.

But your sweet moans, the way your lips moved when you sighed his name was enough to make him weak for you. 

You were completely oblivious to the power you held over him. 

He loved you.

And he wanted to say the words out loud over and over again. 

“I love—I love being inside you..I have missed you so much” He said instead. 

“Draco I’m—I’m fucking cumming.” You whined as he continued to move his hips.

“Let go. Fucking cum y/n. Cum with me.”

You let your head fall against his shoulders and dug your nails into his biceps as you succumbed to your orgasm.

He soon followed, painting your walls with his release as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin. 

You held each other close as you both recovered from your highs and and when he eventually fell asleep you whispered into his ear. 

I’ll be thinking of you too Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~~

29th December 

Once glimpse of the calendar and all the feelings you had shoved into a deep dark part of your mind trickled out in the form of tears.

Silent tears.

The kind of tears you cry when the silence of the night gets unbearable.

The kind where you suppress the sound of your wail and hopelessly try and mute any kind of sniffle by pressing your face hard into the pillow because you don’t want to wake anyone up. 

Silent tears are the most painful of tears when mixed with the sound of the clock ticking. 

For some bizarre reason, every second gets more prolonged than the other.

You had tried to hold it together for days. You tried to pretend like Draco’s engagement didn’t bother you. 

But it did. 

You turned your head on your very damp pillow and eyed the pack of smokes on your night stand. Draco had left when he came to drop off your present. 

On an impulse, You stepped out of your bed as your trembling fingers reached for the 25 pack of expensive looking cigarettes. 

The second you opened the box, the slight scent of nicotine wafted up your nose and you slowly placed a cigarette at the corner of your chapped and dry lips and lit it up. 

Like always, you coughed and wheezed the second you inhaled. 

You hated how it felt. 

But you loved how close you suddenly felt to Draco.

In a twisted kind of way, It felt like you were submerged in his presence again. 

Your lips tasted like they had been kissed by him again.

The more you inhaled the better it felt.

In a fucked up kind of way, The word felt right again.  

And slowly, the night faded into morning as one cigarette turned into another. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

30th December 

Pansy had flooed to your hour the minute she received a letter last night in your drunken handwriting talking about how amazing cigarettes were and how pretty Astoria was.

With a mug filled to the brim with tea in between her hands, she rested her back against the armchair in your room, tilting her head to get a better look at you. 

Your face was pressed sideways against the pillow and she could tell you’d been crying by the dried mascara stains on your cheeks. 

A half smoked cigarette was pressed into the makeshift ashtray that you’d made out of your bedside table making Pansy wonder if she’d ever seen you this miserable. 

Your duvet was barely covering your shoulders and just as Pansy was standing up to pull them up, your bedroom door creaked open. 

“I just wanted to drop something off.” Draco  mumbled almost like he was talking to himself as he took a step into the room—hand in his blazer pocket.

Pansy didn't say a word as she watched Draco with her eyes narrowed. She observantly watched him pull out a tiny box from his pocket and mumble a spell to restore it to its original size.

“What are those?” 

“Assorted sweets.” He said softly, with his gaze not leaving your sleeping form once. “She wouldn’t stop talking about exploding bonbons the other night at the pub.” 

Pansy heaved out a sigh as she watched Draco place the box of sweets on your bedside table before reaching to gently push away your hair from your face. 

“Don’t get me wrong Draco, but you really shouldn’t be here right now.” 

His weary eyes flickered as he turned to look questioningly at Pansy—retreating his hand from your face. 

“You are getting engaged tomorrow—look at her, look at the state she is in. She won’t say it out loud but It’s clearly killing her.” 

As much as Draco hated agreeing with Pansy, she was right. 

Even while asleep, you looked worn out and restless with your eyebrows scrunched up indicating tension.

He wasn’t even going to get himself started on the cigarettes and wine bottles on your night stand.

“Will you let her know that I came by?” He looked half expectantly at Pansy who gave him an apologetic smile in return. “Never mind I guess.” 

As Draco reluctantly backed away from you,  Blaise’s words lingered in his mind. 

What is holding you back Malfoy?

(To be continued...)

~~~~~~

Part 6: Final Chapter Preview:

The Malfoy Manor was being decorated and every little detail of the decor screamed nothing but aristocratic, pristine, perfect.

It was like everything was just a futile attempt to conceal the dullness, loneliness and the fucked up pure blood traditions hiding deep within the manor walls.

Much like his so-called arrangement with Astoria that seemed so perfect on paper.

Pure blood families, rich family history, old money.

What could go wrong right?..

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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