#i would have added All Is Not As It Seems and A Little Sacrifice but i don't have 12 option polls yet!

[whitetyger123]

Jaskier song poll! (Hopefully) in order that they happen

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.  

word count: 2,764 

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later 

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible. 

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose. 

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King. 

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King. 

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news. 

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought. 

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you. 

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor. 

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else. 

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong. 

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem. 

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that. 

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words? 

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said. 

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”

[dekariosmagic]

Safe and Sound- Gale x Tav/Reader

Paring: Gale Dekarios x Tav/Reader (Referred to as Tav)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Word Count: 1,515

Description: Gale seemed to take the news from Elinster fairly well, or so it appeared.

Other Things: Fluff. Hurt comfort. Uses lyrics from the song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. Pre-relationship (but they're basically there).

Warnings: Panic attack. References to potential story canon suicide.

Elminster’s news had been a bombshell in and of itself on the party. Gale had seemingly taken the news in stride, perhaps the best in the camp. 

Gale made dinner as usual, while everyone avoided the singular topic on all their minds. Tav assumed no one knew how to bring up the topic to the man himself. 

It wasn’t until Gale finished his own portion and took off to his tent for an early night, did the rumbling start. 

Tav did her usual rounds, trying to ignore the feeling of a rock settled in her chest. And with each companion she talked to with their collective rage and disgust toward the situation and goddess of magic, it just seemed to get heavier. 

It felt good to know the rest of them were all on the same page. That they’d rather fight the goddess herself than willingly give up their wizard. 

Hells Tav was ready to take the goddess on herself, as foolish as the task would be. The fact Mystra felt she could demand that of him. The ultimate sacrifice to end a threat to her power, and get rid of a loose end in one go. She’d not spoken to him since the orb incident, and this was how she broke the silence?

Her heart hurt for Gale and herself. The entire situation couldn’t be easy, not nearly as easy as he made it sound as he accepted the mission from Elminster at least. Hearing from an ex of a relationship that ended so badly would be tricky, make her his goddess of magic and it was far more complicated.

And her own feelings complicated it. She wanted to grab him by his shoulders and scream. Tell him to defy Mystra, to think, to not accept this outrageous thing he’s been asked to do. To spurn Mystra’s words and stay here, with her, in this… whatever they were building. 

She’d become far too attached to him already. But everyday at his side just added to the growing list of things she adored about him. The one bright spot in a bleak road ahead. 

Walking to the front of Gale’s tent, Tav freezes as she contemplates calling out to him. Whether she should try to talk tonight, or leave it for later after he’s had more time to think. Or just let him stick to his own resolve entirely…

Her thoughts are cut short at the sound of a broken sob on the other side of the fabric. 

Without a thought, she slips into the tent and throws her arms around his midsection from behind. His body tenses in surprise, but it does little to interrupt the next sob from his lips. 

She squeezes him tighter as his body shakes, using one hand on his front to rub slow circles on his stomach as she rests her head on his back.

“Y-you don’t h-have-“ Gale begins before slapping a hand over his mouth trying to stifle the next sob, sucking air in desperately around it. 

“Gale, I’ve got you. It’s ok to let it out. I’m staying right here, I promise.” 

She feels him nod more than sees it. She sways them slightly as he shakes, taking a moment to spin herself around his body and hold him more tightly from the front. 

His arms quickly wrap around her, his face pressing to her hair. 

Her fingers rub gently into his back as she softly starts to hum a melody, his tears running down onto her as he tries to mumble an apology.

She holds him for what felt like hours, lost in their own moment. His shaking lessens, and the sobs dwindled to small hiccups over time. 

Turning her head to glance around the room, she spots his bedroll a few steps away. 

“Let’s lay down,” she says softly, backing them toward the bedroll and carefully tugging him along with her. 

She drops down to her knees when she reaches it, grabbing his hands to tug him down to the bedding with her. Adjusting his pillows around and finding a blanket, she lies on her back and holds her arms out to him. 

He studies her for a moment before laying down and snuggling into her, his head resting on her shoulder as she pulls the blanket up around them. 

Her fingers slowly card through his hair as he buries his face against her neck, a shuddered breath leaving his lips as his hand grips at her shirt fabric on her stomach. 

She resumes her humming after they settled in, his face turning from her neck to glance up at her. 

“What are you humming?” He asks quietly, his voice raspy and unsure. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go. When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don't leave me here alone,” she sings softly to the melody she’d been humming. 

“Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone.

“Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound,” she finishes singing, rubbing a hand along his arm. 

“My mother would sing it to me at night when I was upset,” she finally answers. “When times are hard now I hum it to myself. Quite often lately if I’m to be honest.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he responds, his eyes reddened and puffy, but looking at her with adoration. “You’re beautiful. And I’m undeserving of your company.” 

“Oh hush,” she says and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re deserving of far more than you believe. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to have people care about you, and you deserve to live.”

“I… I don’t want to die,” he whispers after a moment. 

“Good, hold onto that,” she says squeezing him closer to her. “I will find another way. We will. There’s always another way. I’m not going to give up on you. You’re enough as you are Gale.”

His face presses back up against the juncture between her shoulder and neck, a shaky exhale on her neck, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear as she feels him smile against her skin. 

“Would you stay here with me tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it,” he asks quickly, keeping his face hidden from her. 

“Of course, I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite wizard,” her fingers go back to playing with his hair.

“If you only know one wizard, I’m both your favorite and least favorite,” he jokes with a dry chuckle. 

“I’ve met a few, but you make a good point. I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite person,” she amends. 

His hand drifts from her stomach to her side, holding her closer to him, “If you continue this I might believe you and you’ll be stuck with me, then you’ll be sorry for throwing those words around.”

“Is that a promise?” She grins and lays her head against his. 

“Promise?”

“If I keep saying you’re my favorite and that I care about you, I’ll be stuck with you? Because I can easily keep repeating the truth each day.” 

“I-I don’t know what… I mean, I still have that order and I might, but maybe,” he stumbles over his words, his brow scrunching in thought.

“You don’t have to think about it right now,” her hand lightly grips his chin to turn his head so she can see his face and presses her finger between his brows. “No decisions, sacrifices, or answers are needed right now.”

He blinks rapidly in response, tears building in the corners of his eyes again as he searches her face then nods, lolling his head back against her shoulder.

Tav lets her fingers drift down his cheek, then follows along his jaw slowly, enjoying the prickle of his beard on her skin.

He stretches some in her embrace, leaning into her touch, his eyelids drooping.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake,” she promises as she feels sleep starting to come to her as well. 

“A wondrous sight to awake to I’m sure,” he smile softly, his eyes drifting shut. 

Tav continues to stroke along his cheek and jaw until his breathing evens and his nose twitches in his sleep when her hand accidentally brushes against it. 

Holding back her chuckle, she wraps her arm back around Gale and snuggles her face against his hair, letting her own eyes drift shut. 

She sends out a quick prayer, to any god that may listen, that she find a way to get them all through this. Her new little odd family would all make it through this intact, or she herself would die trying. His goddess may have given up on him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to. 

--------

My Main Account: @lykaonimagines AO3 User: Lykao (Marvel, Sherlock, Cyberpunk 2077, and other video game fics)

[rightshoeonleftfoot]

From Afar

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x afab! reader

Summary: You had a bad day and you're head over heels for a Lieutenant that's not even yours. He never even seems to look at you, let alone speak to you. Little do you know, he's been watching you.

Warnings: Stalking (innocent stalking hehe), mutual pining, possessive! Simon Riley, power imbalance.

Words: 1.7k

Part 1 - Part 2

This is not proofread so I'm sorry for any mistakes!! Constructive criticism is 100% welcome :)

I wanna make this a series eventually so let me know if you're interested! I wrote this at work lol

Average. That's what you were. An average soldier. You weren't even a bad soldier, you just weren't outstanding. You simply didn't stand out even though you desperately wanted to. You wanted to stand out to him. To the one man you'd been longing for ever since you saw him walk past you in the hallway when you were on your way to training.

A tall, broad man whose gaze would scare anyone away. He seemed cold, distant, someone you could never get along with. A man with many secrets, someone who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice his life for his Taskforce. Lieutenant Riley. He never formally introduced himself but you'd heard. You'd heard all the rumours and chatter that surrounded him and you almost felt guilty.

He'd lead training every once in a while, when your superiors were away on important missions. You'd always do your damn best during those times, you wanted his attention, you wanted his praise. Yet, he'd never even so much as glance at you. It left you empty, disappointed and jealous. Jealous of your superior, Sergeant Davidson who'd openly flirt with him in front of everyone, especially in front of you. It's like she had something against you specifically, she'd often make you drop and give her 20 if you did anything that displeased her.

Today had been a shitty day. You'd slept through your alarm and ended up late to an early training session. Your Sergeant made an example out of you, making you run laps and do extra push ups. You were tired and hungry as you'd also missed breakfast, your stomach growling loudly as you were exercising. She had no pity, it was your fault after all. "You shouldn't have been late." She told you. "Don't fuck with the rules." She berated you as you held a plank. She had her foot on your back, occasionally adding weight on you to make you shake and give in to the weight she'd put on you. It was a humiliating morning to say the least, yet your day somehow got worse.

He hated the way she treated you. He hated the way your Sergeant got a power trip every time you did the smallest thing wrong. He wanted to rip her off you, tell her off for treating a Private like an animal. He wasn't supposed to feel anything for you. Hell, he had never even spoken to you once. He would just chalk it up to him being tired and not sleeping through the night. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from looking at you.

At lunch, you were starving and the mess hall was full. Not having eaten since 8 am and you were in desperate need for food. You'd finally picked up your tray and the food looked mediocre at best but you were too hungry to care. You were looking for a place to sit but the mess hall was packed. You skillfully navigated through the crowd of famished soldiers until you found a place. You quickly walked over to it, but it seemed someone had had the same idea as you. In a loud crash, your food fell to the floor, face first because of course it did. Your stomach growled once more as you looked down at the splattered food on the floor. The soldier who had bumped into you quickly apologized, his food untouched apart from the splatter of sauce that had ended on your uniform. Instead of helping you, he bolted off to eat. As you cleaned up your food, you knew your lunch would consist of nothing but vending machine snacks.

He watched. He saw you get bumped into by the careless little soldier. He saw you mutter and swear as you looked down at your food on the floor, completely defeated. "Fuck me, fuck this stupid fucking day." You'd mutter. He saw the way you quietly stared down at your food before picking up the dirty dishes and cleaning up the mess you'd made. He saw the way the soldier left you to your own devices and wanted so badly to berate him for not helping you. But he couldn't. So he watched.

You had a bit of free time after eating your snacks so you went to get changed and take the shower you didn't have time to take. You picked up your clean uniform and headed off to the communal showers, getting ready to wash off the food and sweat off you from this morning. You stripped and eagerly got in the shower. A sudden gasp came out of you. The water was cold. Very fucking cold. It wouldn't warm up even as you waited, your hand in the water. So you took a quick, cold shower.

The shower had left you tense and unsatisfied. A fitting continuation for your awful day. Next came hand to hand combat training. This was led by Ghost, so it lifted your spirits up a little. You walked into the gym early, not wanting to repeat this morning's mistake. Ghost was already there and you saluted him. In what felt like the first time since you'd met, he spared a glance at you. His gaze was cold, his brown eyes felt like they were staring in your soul. It seemed like he was studying you as the glance turned into more of a look, his eyes wandering ever so slightly to your face before he spoke.

"At ease." His voice was deep, deeper than you'd remembered. You felt happy. He had addressed you. It was almost cathartic, hearing him speak directly to you. You almost wantwd him to say more but to your disappointment, he looked away from you and resumed his conversation with your Sergeant. She was laughing and smiling, clearly flirting with him but he wasn't paying her any mind. You found yourself a partner and surprisingly enough, training went without much of a hitch. Both Ghost and Sergeant Davidson were watching over and your Sergeant was being much nicer with Ghost watching over her shoulder.

That was until the Sergeant used you as an example. Ghost looked at her disapprovingly but you didn't notice. She'd tell you to defend yourself but every time would take you down with ease. It left you humiliated and defeated. She finally got off you, clearly proud of herself for whatever reason. Your sparring partner helped you up and muttered something. "That fuckin' bitch." You were happy someone was on your side yet you felt disappointed. Ghost had just stood there, watching. He didn't do anything.

He saw, his mind in turmoil. On one hand, he could stop your Sergeant from taking you down more and cut the training short. On the other hand, he could let her keep going. She was showing a good technique but she wouldn't even give you the chance to try it on her. So he just stood there, conflicted. He wasn't doing anything.

You left training as soon as you could. You were beyond pissed and annoyed at today. You rushed to the mess hall to eat something and for once, everything was going well. You were approached by a soldier. A poor little soldier who was just as oblivious of Ghost as you were. He flirted with you and made you laugh. It was the first time today you'd felt truly at ease. He was making you laugh and over all, the conversation was just nice. You ended up shutting the conversation down early but sharing your contact information with him, a new friend couldn't hurt after all.

Your laugh. Your fucking laugh. Music to Ghost's ears. Music he never even thought he'd like, a soft melody that soothed whatever emotion he was feeling at the time. But that laugh wasn't for him. It was for this other private, this bastard, who dared to approach you while you were eating. He continued watching as you gave the man your contact information and he seethed. He didn't want to be jealous, but he was. He watched you leave to go to the shooting range for your nightly routine and as soon as you were out of sight, he walked to the soldier. The soldier froze when he saw Ghost. Ghost put his hand out, gesturing for the soldier to hand over what you'd given him. The soldier obliged and handed him the paper and Ghost proceeded to chew him out. He was ashamed of what he was doing and couldn't believe he felt the need to chew out an irrelevant soldier for hitting on you. He'd let his jealousy get the better of him.

The range was empty at this hour. Well, not fully but enough for the gun shots to be few and far between, startling you every time one went off. Going to the range after dinner was a part of your routine. There was a sort of pleasure in shooting targets to let loose of your emotions, it was therapeutic. The recoil of the gun as it went off in your hands, whether it was a p226 or an M4A4. You'd shoot for a while, never really looked at the time. But you'd often shoot until you felt the recoil of the gun in your hand without shooting, a familiar feeling.

Then came the cleaning. Cleaning your guns was your favourite part. It was slow and required patience, something you enjoyed. You'd take apart your guns with great care, feeling every nook and cranny as you did so. You'd clean them, taking the time to remove the dirt and grease which had lodged itself in all the cracks and crevices of the pistol. You liked it when they looked brand new. You'd connect your headphones to your phone and would listen to music, wanting to relax and take the edge off as you did a task most thought was tedious. Putting the guns back together was like a puzzle. A puzzle you'd done so much you could do it with your eyes closed. The way everything fit together perfectly, the way each piece clicked together with a soft, metallic sound. It was like a lullaby, soothing you to sleep. A welcome sound as it meant you'd go to bed soon.

Your ritual was over and you felt weary, your eyes closing on their own. With that, your day ended. In your shitty little barrack bed, still oblivious to your shadow. You fell asleep weirdly content with the day you had. Your alarm was set and you were confident you'd be ready for whatever awaited you tomorrow.

The range was big. Lots of places to hide, lots of places to watch. He followed you, his footsteps quiet, completely unheard by you. He enjoyed watching you shoot. It had become his routine as well. He'd watch you, correct your stance in his head without ever approaching you, then he'd watch you clean your guns. It calmed him. It soothed his mind and made him strangely happy to see someone who took such great care in cleaning their guns. He always wondered what you listened to. What had your foot tapping the beat, what had you softly smile when you cranked up the volume. He'd figure it out one day, just not tonight.

[chloedrewitt]

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 - 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 [𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 2]

summary: The day of your arranged wedding has come, and a new alliance is forged. Despite what you know about your new husband, his presence alone is enough to make your heeks flush and your hands shake. But would it be so bad to give in to these things you are feeling? Aemond, for one, seems to have made his mind up about you. Though the royal succession is a strong wind to withstand, and the future is never clear.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: making out, strangers trying to take the reader’s clothes off as part of a wedding tradition, no smut; fade to black

a/n: I can’t wait to see adult Aemond in a few weeks!

Part 1

Request status: temporarily closed [info]

Taglist:

@amethystwonders11 @khaleesihavilliard @nura300 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aestmilky​ @rainazinha​ @cullenswife​ 

If you wish to be added to or removed from the character taglist, please comment underneath this post​.

Masterlist - Ko-fi

All eyes were on you as you stepped into the throne room. On the right side, you spotted your mother and siblings surrounded by guards, as your stepfather Daemon Targaryen took his spot next to you in your late father’s stead. Your siblings looked worried, but when you met your mother’s eyes, she offered you a reassuring smile. She knew you were making a huge sacrifice, and she was proud of you for that. 

Music started playing as you put one foot forward and took hold of your stepfather’s arm, your gaze glued to the stone floor beneath you. The beautiful, cream colored dress you wore squeezed your waist so that you feared you would faint then and there, since the chest piece consisted of a corset partially made out of metal. The sleeves were of the same material, resting upon your shoulders and shaped like relaxed dragon wings, hidden underneath your maiden’s cloak which bore the colors of House Targaryen and House Velaryon. 

You raised your gaze only for it to land on the iron throne behind the altar, partially hidden by ornaments and decorations. The throne was not at the center of today’s festivity, and yet, it was the reason that the civil war broke out in the first place, and the reason why you had to marry a man you barely knew. When you were little, before your mother brought you to Dragonstone, you played with Queen Alicent’s children, but the memories of it had faded long ago, leaving only blurred images and memories of feelings.

“Your mother would want me to say that you are doing the right thing,” whispered Daemon when you looked to the left, where the groom's mother and her other children stood. It pained you to see Helaena, since you had spent a lot of time together when you were younger. They all had grown so much, you would have never recognized them on the street. 

“And what do you want to say?” You asked, your voice sounding the most emotionless it had been in years. You heard people whisper as you slowly passed them, and the name ‘Strong’ rang in your ear, but you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to focus on walking. 

“That you should run if you want to.” His voice was even quieter now, and for a moment it seemed like you actually contemplated the idea, but then you looked at Daemon and offered him a weak smile. 

“I will be okay,” you said, which ended the conversation. 

The wedding altar had been placed before the iron throne was made of dark stone, and you almost felt a hint of remorse for those who had been tasked with bringing it here. Usually, weddings took place in a sept, but since this was very likely to be the most important wedding of the century, Aegon had allowed to use the throne room for it. 

The septon who would officiate the wedding smiled at you as you took your place next to Aemond, who was wearing an own version of the wedding cloak, only his was kept solely in the colors of House Targaryen. Underneath, you saw a black vest and parts of the Targaryen sigil. You looked up at your fiance, taking in the eye patch and scar that appeared from underneath it, while the septon gestured for you both to take each other's hands.

Aemond’s skin felt warm on yours, and you only noticed that your hands shook when he gently squeezed them, making you raise your gaze to meet his eyes once more. The entire throne room was looking at you both, while the septon spoke about a holy union, but looking into Aemond’s eye, the moment felt surprisingly private and intimate. He offered you a faint smile, most likely in an effort to reassure you further, and you smiled back, which made him visibly relax.

You were so caught up in your silent communication that you tensed when Daemon placed his hands on your shoulders, ready to take off your maiden’s cloak. You nodded at your stepfather when he joined your mother and siblings, your cloak in his hands. It was an old tradition for the father to take the bride’s cloak when the time came, and even though you always got along well with Daemon, a part of you wished it was your real father standing next to your mother now. 

For the first time, the gathered could marvel at your dress and the beautiful handiwork. You even saw Aemond admire the way the material hugged your body, and the dragon wing shaped sleeves that made you look like you were the embodiment of dragon flame. 

“Princess.” You turned your head towards the septon when he addressed you, and you quickly realized it was your sign to proceed with the ceremony, so you let go of Aemond’s hands and turned your back towards him. Without his hands or eyes to anchor you, a brief wave of panic overcame you and you cursed yourself for how pathetic that sounded. You told yourself that you would be brave. It was the responsibility you carried as heir. 

You felt Aemond’s presence behind you when he stepped forward to place his cloak on your shoulders, the soft fabric warming your naked arms. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and gently brushed down your arms when he lowered them again, something that caused some of the spectators to whisper. You drew in a breath, reminded of the time you spent together on Zaelix, when he’d held your waist and you’d felt free for the first time in years.

You turned to face him again, taking your hands in his, and waited for the septon to allow you both to speak before proceeding. 

“With this kiss,” Aemond and you began in unison, “I pledge my love, and take you for my-”

“-lady and wife.”

“-lord and husband.”

Your eyes dropped to Aemond’s lips as the words left yours, and you caught yourself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. He was so close that you could smell him; an earthy note with a hint of leather. 

“With the power given to me, I declare you man and wife. From today on, you are one flesh, one heart, and one soul. Now, and forever. You may kiss.” The septon lowered his head in respect, taking a small step back to offer you two some space. 

Your lips parted as Aemond placed his hand on the back of your head, gently guiding you to meet his lips. Applause erupted from all around you, and all the tension you had felt in your body before eased when Aemond placed his other hand on your cheek and pulled away slowly. 

The tingling in your stomach made you open your eyes, realizing that you wanted to kiss him again, but it would not be appropriate and you had enough self-control to behave like the princess you were raised to be. Still, you were reminded yet again of when Aemond took you to your dragon and went against his brother, the king he swore to serve, by letting you go for a ride. 

The feast that followed was mostly uneventful, except for the numbers of men who got drunk on the finest wine House Targaryen could afford. Loud chatter swallowed any attempt at conversation that you tried to make with Aemond, especially when the food was served and the clinking of forks on plates increased the volume even more.

Your new mother-in-law gave you disapproving looks all evening, but you noticed Aegon trying to ease her repeatedly, until he must have given her the order to behave, because at some point she stopped even looking at you. It helped that she was seated on the other side of the banquet table, out of your sight. But it did not help with the loss of appetite you experienced as you pushed a piece of meat around with a fork. 

Then, Aegon stood, his goblet raised towards the ceiling and silenced the room with a single word. All eyes were on him, despite some people being barely able to stand. The part you had dreaded the entire night came, you knew it the moment Aegon’s eyes fell onto you and your new husband. “It is time for the bedding,” he declared, clearly having had his fair share of liquor himself. 

You clenched your teeth, hating how every man in the room turned to look at you with hunger in their eyes. Some women were eyeing Aemond in a similar way, but you could only drop your gaze to the half-eaten plate before you and try to ignore the burning in your cheeks. 

Next to you, your mother put her hand on yours and leaned in to say something, but loud singing interrupted her before she could even speak.

Two men you had never seen before walked around the table, as they threw their drinks on the ground as if the throne room was a simple tavern smallfolk would visit. But your disgust turned to horror when they grabbed your arms and dragged you from your seat, tearing at the fabric of your dress. The tradition was old and respected by most, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of being undressed by strange men. 

Your mother  told them to stop, but the men were too drunk to think straight, so they continued singing their sea shanty instead, about the daughter of a captain and the untamable waves of the sea. It made you sick. 

Just as a woman reached for Aemond, he stood from his seat and wrapped an arm around your waist gently. “Traditions are all good and well,” he said, loud enough for the gathered to hear. “But you’ve all clearly had too much to drink.” The booing almost made you roll your eyes and even move a bit closer towards Aemond, which he must have registered without looking at you, since he tightened his arm around your waist. 

“The bedding will take place!” Exclaimed Aegon before falling back into his chair laughing. 

“That is quite enough,” intervened your mother as she gestured for you and Aemond to leave, just as Queen Alicent made a snarky remark you were too exhausted to pay attention to.

You felt relieved when Aemond started guiding you out of the throne room, followed only by a handful of servants who had probably been assigned to show you to the quarters. You noticed that you were clinging to Aemond’s robes when you entered a corridor, letting the door fall shut behind you. The sudden silence was deafening as you let go of Aemond’s clothes to rub the palms of your hands together nervously. 

You could not look up at him, too big was the unease about what was going to happen. Would he force you to do things you did not want to do? Would he claim you as property, despite it being against the agreement between Queen Alicent and your mother? He could do what he wanted behind closed doors, after all.

Suddenly, the servants stopped in front of a door and lowered their heads. You looked around, trying to figure out which wing you were in, since you had been too busy thinking about the possible outcomes of the night. It was easy to get lost in thought when Aemond helped you navigate the castle, but as you both came to a halt, he removed his arm from your waist. 

“Thank you,” he said to the maids, and they bowed their heads again, before leaving you both alone. 

Aemond did not seem keen on letting the silence between you become uncomfortable, since he immediately moved to open the door and let you inside. The room was large, with a king sized bed on the right side and a red velvet carped on the stone floor. You heard the door close behind you, but you did not turn as you looked around, taking in the paintings that hung on the walls and the chandelier above your head, until your gaze landed on the bed. 

You swallowed, before finally turning to face Aemond. He looked at you softly, his black clothes seemingly blending in with his surroundings. A sudden shiver came over you, and you missed the cloak he had put around your shoulders during the ceremony. 

“I will not force you to do anything tonight, Lady (y/n),” he said genuinely, but you took your time to answer. There were no chairs in the room, so you were forced to sit on the bed to relieve your aching feet, watching as he leaned against the bed frame first, but you moved over a little to make space and gestured for him to take a seat. You’d have to sleep in the same bed tonight anyway, refusing to sit next to him would have been ridiculous.

“I appreciate it,” you replied and Aemond nodded at you as he sat down, eye wandering around the room in thought. You looked at him silently. It was the first time you two were so alone in such an intimate environment. Yes, the dragon ride had been more physical, but now you could properly look at him for the first time. At his scars, and the way they disappeared underneath his eye patch. You raised a hand to touch his face but stopped when he tensed. 

“I remember when that happened.” Your voice was quiet, your hand still lingering in the air. “I don’t remember much from when we were younger, but… I do remember that. There was blood everywhere when my brother took your eye.” 

Aemond pressed his lips together, and you saw him reaching for the eye patch, but his hand dropped before he could do it, so you decided to touch the leather, watching as Aemond closed his eye in response. “Why do you wear that?” You whispered, tracing the leather band wrapped around his head. 

“I do not wish to scare the ladies at court.” Your heart ached when his words reached your ears, and you could see on his face that it must have bothered him a lot.

You cupped his cheek, continuing to stroke the leather with your thumb. His lips parted, gaze jumping between your eyes and mouth. 

“Do you think you scare me?” You asked, but he didn’t answer. “I am not a mere lady at court. I have been born into war and bloodshed, my earliest memory is of it. I have seen bodies rot and men die. So, no. You do not scare me, Aemond. And you do not have to hide in front of me.” A pause followed, as you searched for the right words to say.

“We are wed now. And, as you said, we should make the most of it. Neither of us should feel caged or unseen.”

You pulled at the string a little to see whether he would resist, but he only closed his eye and allowed you to gently pull off the eye patch, revealing the scarring underneath. You traced the soft skin with your finger, and brushed over his lid softly, before he opened his eyes again, revealing a sapphire crystal which the scarring framed, just big enough to substitute his actual eye. 

It was glistening softly when he tilted his head to look at you better, and you let your hand drop, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed, gaze flickering between his eyes. You noticed how the blue of the sapphire made his iris seem brighter in color, as well. 

“Do you really think so?” He asked, doubt in his voice but you nodded, and shifted a little closer towards him. 

“I’m sorry my brother did this to you,” you said genuinely, “but scars are proof that we survived something. I have my fair share of them, too. At first I hated them, especially the ones caused by my own folly. Then I realized that they are a constant reminder of how fragile we are, and that makes life worth living. Knowing that there will be an end one day, that it could be tomorrow, lets you cherish and live it to the fullest, and gives you courage to do the things you want to do.”

His gaze dropped to your lips again, where it lingered even as he replied, “And what do you want to do, Princess?”

You closed some more of the distance between you slowly, giving him time to retreat if he wanted to, but he placed a hand on your back and pulled you even closer towards him. The sudden movement made you gasp, as you placed your hands on either of his shoulders. Your bodies were so close now that your torsos touched each time you inhaled. 

“Do you remember when we were younger, we used to play together sometimes. Before your mother brought you to Dragonstone.” You felt his breath on your skin as he spoke, and his muscles underneath your hands tense. But all you could do in response was shake your head, since you did not remember much from your childhood, one some core memories. “You wanted to train with the swords like us boys, but Ser Criston Cole did not allow it.” That, you did remember. A smile appeared on your lips as you thought about how let one of Helaena’s bugs crawl into his armor when he hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Each night,” Aemond continued, “you’d sneak out of your quarters to secretly train.” 

“How do you know that?” You asked curiously, since you had been sure no one had noticed back then. 

“Because I did the same. Only I did not train, but used the peace of the night to spend it in solitude. Back then, you thought no one saw you. But I did. I saw you how you wielded that sword, getting better each time you picked it up. And when I look at you now, I still see that fierce warrior you trained yourself to be.”

You could only look at him, mouth agape. He clenched his teeth, and you saw that he started regretting saying anything, but you placed your hand on his. “I truly thought no one had even noticed. But… why did you not say that you not mention our past when we saw each other first in that dungeon?”

“I did not know how much you remembered.” 

You smiled, as the tingling sensation returned, and you twirled a strand of his long, white hair between your fingers, nose brushing his. “Earlier, you asked me what I wanted to do,” you whispered, before pressing your lips to his softly. “This,” you added when you pulled away. “I want to do this.”

Aemond searched your eyes for a moment, seeming surprised and uncertain. The muscles of his arms flexed, but whatever internal battle he was fighting, it seemed to be over the moment he placed his arm on your back, hooking the other under your knees. His mouth ghosted over yours, before uniting again. You remained in this position while you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and melted into the kiss. It was more passionate and fierce than the previous one, a fire that the kiss which sealed your marriage had ignited and could now finally burn. 

Aemond bit down on your bottom lip softly, and you moaned just as he finally lifted you up a little, only to lay you on your back, letting you sink into the soft mattress. He climbed on top of you, his long hair tingling your cheeks, which made you giggle against your will. 

You weren’t sure about your feelings yet, and this marriage had just begun after all, but something about the way his hand felt on your skin, and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention made you believe this might not have been the worst thing to happen to you. 

In fact, you were sure that the entire castle could hear the euphoria he made you feel that night, and you did not mind even the slightest bit.

---

Eight Years Later

You were gently swaying the crib from side to side when Aemond entered the candle lit room, your six year old son, Aerydor, behind him. He giggled happily when he spotted you, and you wrapped your arms around him the moment he ran up to you. 

“How is the council?” You asked Aemond as you ruffled your son’s white hair. 

“Unbearable in your absence, my love,” he replied with an exhausted sigh, but a smile soon followed. 

He came to a halt next to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, which he slowly started to massage. You exhaled deeply when he kneaded your tense muscles, looking down at the peacefully sleeping baby in the crib. “As it is when you are looking after her,” you replied, turning to offer your husband a tired smile. 

“At least she grows up with her parents taking care of her, not maids.” Aemond dropped his hands from your shoulders and walked to the side of the crib, to pull the baby’s blanket higher a little. 

Six years ago, Aegon and his children had died, leaving you and Aemond to inherit the throne. Since then, you had both attended council meetings and reigned as equals. Though your luck couldn’t be greater, you had a feeling that your family had had something to do with Aegon’s death, but you chose not to investigate further. None of the plotting and family wars of the past concerned you anymore, since you had found your luck and happiness.

“She seems to get bigger with each day that passes,” Aemond said, smiling brightly. You hadn’t seen him this happy since your son was born, and it warmed your heart. 

“Mommy, I’m tired.” 

Aemond and you both looked down at the little prince, who was now rubbing his eyes and looking very grumpy. You laughed and lifted him up to sit him on the bed behind you. “How lucky that you are already wearing your sleeping clothes, then.” You kissed his forehead and watched as he crawled underneath the blanket, hearing the sound of Aemond extinguishing the candles one by one. 

You both changed into your nightgowns and soon joined your son in the bed, where he was already sound asleep between you two. Although he had his own room, he was scared of the dark so you and Aemond let him sleep in your bed from time to time. Though Aerydor had most likely already decided that this bed, which was four times the size of the one standing in his room, actually belonged to him. 

“When Elaena grows up,” you whispered to Aemond, whom you were facing on the bed, “I want her to train just like Aerydor does.” 

“So she wouldn’t have to sneak out at night and do it herself?” Aemond teased, but you only rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“Yes, precisely.”

“Do not worry.” He reached over Aerydor to caress your cheek with his fingers, eye flickering between yours, as his sapphire glistened faintly. “I will see to it personally that Elaena will be as skilled with a sword as she will be at court.” 

You smiled, eyes jumping between Aerydor and Aemond, as you marveled at your small family. Briefly, you wished your mother could have been here to see how well your life had turned out and that you had ascended the Iron Throne at last. Not as consort, but as Queen. It was the first time in history that Westeros had two reigning monarchs, and it was a change you were keen on keeping. 

Aemond closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as he wrapped his arm around you and Aerydor, and soon you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a princess and a dragon, who brought even the strongest of knights to their knees.

[animehideout]

A Deal ( Ryomen Sukuna x F.Reader) Part 2.

Read Part 1 here.

part 3

Manga spoiler⚠️

WARNINGS: Sensitive, smut content. Minors and those who don't like this kind of stuff please DO NOT INTERACT 🔞🔞

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

6:12 PM

You laid on the soft silky bed. Sukuna departed early in the morning, having taken all he could from you, leaving you completely drained. You were aware of the cost when you got yourself into this for your loved ones; the cost... was you.

Despite the comfort in the room, it couldn't soothe you enough. All you wished for was to be in Satoru's embrace. You understood it might not happen, but at least he was alive now – Sukuna did keep his promise in the end.

You thought about surrendering, running away, abandoning everything even if it led to your death.

"No, I can't abandon Megumi" you whispered to yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Leaving is impossible as long as Sukuna controls Megumi's body.

Yet,perhaps ....perhaps when Sukuna regains his own body, you can leave, when you make sure everyone's safe.

Surely, this deal has got an end.

......

"I see you're still awake," Sukuna remarked, pulling you from your trance. You chose to ignore him; the last thing you desired was to see his face or engage in conversation with him.

"Come now, puppet, don't ignore me," he sighed while settling on the bed's edge.

His hand began to wander across your form, starting from your shoulder, waist, hips, down to your exposed legs. His sharp nails grazed your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, like being struck by lightning.

You'd had enough of him using your body for his own impure pleasure.

“I have a mission for you” he added.

"What mission?"

"I keep my promises, you know. I need you to find me another body ...of a powerful sorcerer so I can return to my true form."

You smiled, aware that this task wouldn't be simple, but it meant Megumi could finally be free.

"When do I start?"

"Tonight," he smirked.

Determination filled you; after all, you were his servant.

"And after that, Sukuna, stay away from Megumi, Satoru, and all of my loved ones."

He laughed, his red eyes penetrating your soul.

"Don't worry about them. Worry about yourself. Though I do fancy Megumi's body; he's rather handsome, much better than that brat Yuji."

You swallowed hard, the thought of being Sukuna's perpetual captive made your heart sink, a bitter taste of self-disgust settling in.

"You seem uncomfortable. Am I the cause of your nerves, little sorcerer? Or is it because you can't resist the thought of how I make you feel when you repeatedly scream my name?" he inquired, drawing nearer and trapping you between his sturdy shoulders and the bed frame.

"I-I'm not," you stammered.

"I must acknowledge that you, a frail human, have indeed impressed me," he declared.

You remained silent, not trynna say something wrong that would lead him to fucking the attitude out of you.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"The power of love led you to sacrifice yourself for those who don't even care about you, Gojo Satoru hah.. Do you truly believe that brat loves you? If he did, he'd be here trying to snatch you away from me. But he's witnessed death and thinks staying alive after dying on my hands is more important than saving you, you.. the one risking it all for him."

He attempted to manipulate you like a puppet, trying to mold you into his likeness. Making you see the flaws in people instead of giving them excuses. Yet, he forgot that you possess a heart that keeps you human rather than a heartless curse.

You're the one who prayed and hoped Gojo wouldn't come to save you, fearing Sukuna might kill him again. Even though you didn't want him around, your heart couldn't shake the slight ache, the idea that what Sukuna said might be true.

"Submit to me, obey me. Let me introduce you to a different kind of love. I can provide pleasure in ways his mind can't comprehend. As the king of curses, I promise you eternal protection."

His lips crashed yours, the strong hand on your waist pulled you closer to him, forcing you to straddle his lap.

You tried to push him away, to turn your head to the other side but he was way stronger than you. Kissing you hungrily, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, biting, licking, sucking.. leaving you completely breathless.

“S-submit to me” he whispered against your lips.

His mouth started trailing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, moistening the soft skin of yours with his saliva.

While his hands roamed your waist, finally resting on your hips pushing you down on his clothed crotch.

Each touch setting you on fire

You hated this, with each cell in your body.. but you couldn't help the wetness building up between your thighs..

He drove you crazy from the intense pleasure, of how his mouth worked, even though he didn't touch you...yet.. it was just a kiss.

The harshness of the kisses, made you lower lip bleed..

“ohh I see I made it bleed..” he smirked, proud of what he did to you.

He opened his mouth again, his tongue licking off the blood off of your lip.. Savouring your taste, humming.

Finally breaking the kiss, letting you breathe.

Choosing to submit means being stuck with him forever, while refusing means your death. That little heart of yours, desires life but not this one. You dream of a life with Satoru and your friends, not on Sukuna's side—alive for his desires, doing his dirty work, while he's robbing you of freedom and your will to live.

"If I do, if I submit, can I see them one last time? Will you allow me to give them a proper goodbye?"

Tags:

@wifenanami

@certainduckanchor

[cursingtoji]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 — 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥!𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

part 2 of Sweet Sacrifice

summary: Chainsaw man universe where humans can form contracts with devils in exchange of sacrificing something valuable.

cw: chainsaw man spoilers (anime only), self insert into csm canon, reader is in love with Aki, dub-con, heavy oral (f -> m), deep throat. choking, bruises, spit, failed attempt of masturbation, Sukuna has a normal human form (at least for now), reader goes into Sukunas domain, as per the last chapter reader is a virgin 4k words.

note: this was very fun to write, quick info… for reasons of “just cause” himeno is not into aki in this series. also i have plans for the next chapters but feel free to speculate

After the last mission with Aki you felt like everyone at the public safety building looked at you weirdly, like they were trying to understand how a not so skillful hunter finished a strong devil by herself.

Aki thankfully taught you to not share too much about your devils and the contracts, so you knew how to defend yourself if anyone asked you about Sukuna.

“Makima-sama wants to see us” Aki said, joining your walk.

“Great” you mumbled ironically but followed him anyway.

Aki knocked and you heard Makima calling you in.

After a quick greeting she started asking about the report from your previous assignment together. You haven’t read it before Aki submitted it so you allowed him to confirm the information.

“...So you summoned Sukuna with a cursed word and he appeared beside you?” Makima asked you directly.

That was not what happened. Sukuna took your body. Aki would not lie about this, but you know the actual truth is not what he would’ve written as well. Having Sukuna taking control of your body was a huge risk for the public safety, the type of risk that could get you executed like a devil.

“Actually—“ he started.

“I’m not asking you” her eyes did not leave yours.

“No, my contract with Sukuna allows me to use his strength as it was my own, he does not manifest physically as another entity. If Hayakawa wrote that, my apologies, he was hurt and probably confused, I should’ve explained better” you took the fault knowing that Aki did not write what Makima said.

“Very well” she seemed pleased with your answer and you could hear Aki exhaling relieved, “What did Sukuna take?” the question got you in alert mode. That was your superior asking. What should you say? Would she know if you lie?

“Makima-sama, with all due respect, I don’t think she needs to disclose that information” your eyes widened, you never saw him standing up for Makima like that.

“It’s nothing that’s gonna be missed,” you added, not wanting Aki to suffer any consequences.

“Fine, congratulations y/n, thanks to your new contract you have an offer to join the 3rd division.”

“What?” Aki and you said at the same time.

Makima slid an envelope to you.

“They need an answer till the end of the week, you may go now. Hayakawa you stay” you bowed, still a little confused and left the room not without exchanging a look with Aki, “Leave the door open” she ordered.

On your way out you saw a blond kid waiting outside, upon hearing Makima's voice he quickly fixed his posture and entered the room.

You haven’t even taken the offer and Makima was already replacing you as Aki’s partner. Bitch.

You went back to your desk, and found that week’s patrol shift. Today you were by yourself, patrolling a chill area and replying to the radio channel which the police use to call for public safety back up.

You sighed, knowing this day was gonna be long and boring. Leaving the building you decided to walk to your area, using a path Aki and you would always take. But before you got there, something drew your attention to an alley. It was the middle of the day, you doubted a devil could be there, but either way you carefully approached the source of the noise and recognized Aki’s voice.

Hiding behind an irregular wall you listened to the conversation. You couldn’t see them without them seeing you but it was obvious he was beating the shit out of someone, you assumed it was the skinny boy from before.

“Makima-san is not the kind of woman a punk like you should be chasing” followed by the indistinguishable sound of fist hitting a face.

“Sounds to me you like her too” the boy replied. You felt your heart sinking.

Why was Aki defending Makima? So what if that newbie wanted to be her new pet? To hell both of them!

But why does Aki have to get involved? You wanted him to defend your honor and only you—

What honor?

You heard that familiar and yet strange voice inside your head.

You swallowed your shame and left the alley, wanting to focus on anything but Aki.

It’s not like you could have him anyways.

“You greedy asshole” Denji kicked Aki’s balls once again, “I saw you partner, what else do you want, huh?” he kicked again, “You get to hang out with a hot chick like that everyday and you’re giving me shit for wanting the same with Makima? Fuck you” before he could give another kick he saw Aki wasn’t getting up, “Shit”.

Two days later, when the sun was setting you ran into Aki when you were leaving a house after finishing executing a small devil. He was talking to the cops outside.

“Hey, I beat you on this one” you smiled at him.

“I heard you replying the call on the radio” he defended, “Just wanted to come by in case…”

“In case what? In case I couldn’t handle it? Please, that devil was the size of a pigeon” you made a sign to the cops that it was done.

“So, do you miss me already?” you teased him.

“In comparison to those two I miss you every hour of the day” he threw that statement unbothered, it was enough to make some blood rush to your face.

“That’s right, you have a fiend now as well” you giggled imagining how Aki dealt with the fiend, he confirmed with a grumpy face.

“Have you accepted the offer?” he asked.

“Oh I forgot about it” indeed you haven’t even opened the letter yet, “I’ll take till the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not thrilled to work with a bunch of freaks.”

“That's basically what division 4 is now” you laughed and he smiled.

“They are living with me, you know” Aki picked up a cigarette and lit it up, you watched waiting for him to continue, he took a long drag and extended the cigarette to you, “Power, the fiend and Denji, the Chainsaw”.

“Chainsaw huh…” you wondered, “Why though?”

“Makima-sama asked me to” you felt that weird tightening in your stomach again.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I guess I am.”

Since you haven’t given an answer to the offer yet, Makima put you with division 4 on a mission the next day to recover a piece of the gun devil in a hotel. There you got to meet the new members and saw your senpai, Himeno.

“They don’t look so bad” you whispered to Aki, he even got the devils to call him senpai… after a bribe but whatever works.

“Give it some time.”

During that week so far you have been feeling weird, ever since that night with Sukuna actually, if you can even call it that. Every night after a stressful work day you recalled that event, silently expecting him to show up again, but nothing. So you managed to drift your focus to something else, by now that tactic only made you more and more horny.

“y/n will give you one as well” your attention was drawn back to the current situation when Himeno put an arm around your shoulders.

“What?” the team was looking at you weirdly, especially the Chainsaw boy, “I’ll give a what?”

“A kiss to whoever defeats the devil.”

“Not a chance.”

Denji started to talk about how he already decided who he’s gonna kiss.

“…when it comes to sex stuff it feels way better when its with two people who get each other.”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff/laugh, it was automatic given the situation you were in, no one seemed to have noticed your reaction but when your eyes met Aki’s looking at you weirdly you decided to put an end to that subject, Himeno seemed to have convinced Denji anyways.

“Let’s go” you called and all of you entered the building. The rookies leading the way meanwhile the three of you stayed a bit behind.

You let your thoughts wander, thinking about what sex would feel like with Sukuna.

Next time I won’t be so good.

That’s what he said last. You have no idea what he meant by that, or what to expect next, but something made you think you were gonna find it out soon enough.

A couple minutes later chaos seemed to have taken over, power killed a ugly fucking devil, then you all got stuck in the 8th floor, Kobeni was crying and trying to drink toilet water, Denji was sleeping like a baby. After looking around you gave up trying to find a way out and simply layed on a bed in an empty room.

“Could have been worse” you murmured to yourself. You seem to have all this time and nothing to do.

The bed was pretty comfortable… your core still burned, would it be too bad if…?

You slowly brought your hand down your uniform till your finger found your clit over the material of your trousers.

You sighed, felt good, you needed some release. You closed your eyes, circling that spot and thinking of that night when Sukuna had control, but instead you imagined Aki to be one touching you and—

“AARGH” you screamed louder than you should’ve, a sudden sharp pain in your lower lips had taken you off guard. When you looked down you found Sukuna’s mouth in your palm “Did you fucking bite me?!” you accused. He clearly bit you through the pants.

“When I told you I was gonna be the only one touching I meant it, not even you can touch yourself got it?”

“That’s ridiculous I—“ your left hand seemed to have transformed into his again, bigger with sharp black nails, he went straight for your neck, choking you.

Down the hall you heard Aki calling your name, he probably heard your scream and was now opening every room to find you.

You panicked, not wanting him to find Sukunas hand around your neck.

“Sukuna” you begged.

“That’s not my name.”

“M-master please…”

“Say you won’t do it again” his grip tightened, cutting your breath, Aki’s voice was closer.

“I— won’t— I p-promise” you chocked out.

Right when he let go of you and you gained the control of your hand back again Aki barged in.

“What’s wrong?” he rushed to your side on the bed, putting his hands on your shoulders to take a look at your face while you coughed.

You managed to come out with a lie about having a nap then waking up from a nightmare and choking with nothing. He didn’t seem to believe it but didn’t ask anymore questions either.

“I need smoke” he got up from the bed, “Come on” and took your hand making you go with him.

You hated to lie to Aki, it was necessary, but whenever you felt his skin touch yours like that you almost felt like giving up on everything, on Sukuna, on being a hunter…

“Himeno-senpai, do you have any cigarettes left?”

“I want one too” you added

“Sorry, that’s the last one,” she replied.

Both you and Aki asked for it, Himeno gave him first then he gave you. You realized how close you were to each other’s faces when Denji screamed “indirect triple kiss!”You giggled while Aki told him to shut it.

More time had passed, you have no idea what time it is but you really wished you had taken a nap. Now, Himeno, Aki and you were lying on the hall facing the huge disgusting blob the devil had become.

Himeno asked Aki if he had a plan, he always had a plan, but this time the only thing you were certain of was not killing Denji since that’s what the devil wanted.

“I’ll use the sword” your heart skipped a beat, you quickly protested it as well as Himeno.

“I’ll use Sukuna first” you argued.

“Who? What’s that?” Denji asked.

“That’s one of the devils I have a contract with—“ you started to explain but Aki cut you off.

“He’s not gonna be useful here. If that thing doesn’t have any weakness there’s nothing Sukuna can do.”

“Oh and what can your sword do?” his words made your blood boil, was he trying to underestimate your contract with Sukuna?

“Oi, no fighting” Himeno interrupted, but before you could continue Aki got up, taking you with him by your arm before the devil moved in your direction, then you were running.

Fuck, you needed to do something.

The whole floor starts to bend in the devils direction, you found a stable place in a room, Kobeni was screaming about throwing Denji to the devil.

“I’ll use the sword” Aki said and you got the cursed word to summon Sukuna on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m not gonna do it” he said from inside your head.

Fucker.

“Himeno” you warned her, Denji was not about to become devil food, but you also didn’t want Aki to lose years of his life if he used the sword.

“Die!” Kobeni screamed and ran towards Denji with a knife.

“Enchain” you called.

You lost consciousness for no more than 5 seconds, but when you came back Kobeni was on the floor, a bloodied knife beside her and—

“Aki” you whispered nothing but the pool of blood coming out of him “Sukuna… what the fuck”.

“You called too late little hunter, that was not our deal, you’re gonna pay for it” he replied in that voice only you could hear.

You kneeled beside Aki while he defended Denji and Power tried to manipulate his blood, when she touched him he flinched and reached for the closest thing that happened to be your hand.

Himeno was freaking out, the Kobeni again, until Denji got up.

“If I manage to kill this fucking devil, I still expect to get that kiss” he screamed at Himeno but looked at you too before explaining his plan. That boy was deranged, but you liked him.

So long have passed, Denji was still slicing the eternity devil, Power really seemed to have stopped Aki’s bleeding, you managed to not fall sleep for too long while laying beside him, you wanted to make sure he was still alive, so you keep waking yourself up.

“Hey” he murmured, “you have awful eye bags.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t stabbed” you murmured back. He adjusted himself getting closer to you, he was pale but not as much as when he got hit by the knife, “I’m glad you’re okay” you placed your head on his shoulder.

“Can he hear us talking?” he whispered.

“Who?”

“Sukuna” you looked up.

“I don’t think so” you replied, Sukuna only seemed to be around when you were by yourself or in a stressful situation.

“I saw him” Aki moved some hairs away from your face, “When you said the word, I saw your features change, your eyes got darker, he didn’t do anything, but he smiled when I got stabbed, you smiled…” your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve done something myself” your heart broke, Aki sounded so fragile.

“It’s okay, I’m fine” he placed his arm on your shoulder, resting his cheek on your forehead, “Can you promise me something?”

“Maybe, what?”

“If you don’t feel safe with Sukuna, terminate the contract”.

Safe…

“I’ll think about it.”

Thankfully Denji was right, he managed to defeat the devil by himself, freeing everyone else from the 8th floor. While Power was holding Aki on her back, you approached Denji.

“You must be exhausted,” you murmured.

“It’s not so ba—“ you gave his cheek a peck when he wasn’t looking at you directly.

“Well, you deserved it so…” before you finished he fell backwards, but Himeno got him when he was about to hit the floor.

“Let’s get them to the hospital” Himeno said and you agreed.

With Aki and Denji spending the night in the hospital for observation, you decided to go back home and check on them the next day.

Home seemed to embrace you when you arrived, finally having your own food and a decent shower.

After a long time washing your body and hair you stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you, but the second your toe touched the ground you heard a voice

“Enchain”.

And everything around you changed like you were transported somewhere else.

“What the…” it seemed like a dark cave, looking down you seemed to be standing on a wet floor, was that blood? It didn’t smell like blood, although the place looked like it was rotting it didn’t smell like anything weird. There were bones around, piles of them, and a huge spine above you.

“Don’t look around without permission” you heard him again, behind you.

“You—“ when you turned around you met his naked chest.

Only then you realized you haven’t seen Sukuna in a human form since your contract, you forgot how tall he was. He was wearing a white robe, tied around his waist, from that point up his torso was exposed, black lines adorning it.

You took a step back, raising your head to look at his face, he had an obnoxious smile and a look of superiority.

“Where the fuck am I?”

“In my domain, basically in my mind” he turned around and sat down on a throne made of bones.

“That explains why this place is so creepy... How do I get out?”

“You can’t until I say so.”

“Suk—“ you rolled your eyes and was about to say his name in a very disrespectful tone until you met his serious face, “What do you want?”

“Do I have to remind you of our deal? You said Enchain, now you gotta pay.”

“You did nothing” you crossed your arms, “I may have said it but you failed to keep your word.”

“Watch your mouth, hunter. Contracts have power, if I hadn’t held my end of the deal I would’ve suffered the consequences, but here we are. If that dumb head of yours wasn’t so busy thinking about getting fucked you would’ve realized that was nothing for me to do in that situation”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but quickly realized you were in no position to do so.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with” with that he pulled the only thing that was covering your body, the white towel, and threw it away.

You attempted to cover yourself, but he pushed your shoulders down until you fell on your knees in front of his throne.

“Sukuna, not here” whatever was under the wet ground was rough on your knees, and the whole setting made you uneasy. All the skulls laying around seemed to be watching you.

“I said I wasn’t going to be good, especially after you misbehaved so badly earlier. Tell me, little hunter, have you used that mouth of yours to something other than pointless arguments?” Sukuna leaned back on the throne, spreading his thick legs and undoing the knot on his robe. The angle you were in gave you a pretty good look on what you were going to be working with.

If there was a source of light behind Sukuna you would have his dick casting a shadow on your entire face.

“Sukuna…” you called his name in scared tone, all your confidence fading out as you noticed from up close the thick veins.

“Do I really have to teach you everything?” he pulled away from the throne backrest getting closer to you, roughly taking your wrist and turning your palm up.

When you met his eyes he had a mischievous look, he snorted leaving you wondering what about your expression he found funny.

Then he spited in your palm and made you wrap it around his length.

You couldn’t help but gasp, such a dirty act and still your thighs were pressed together as hard as you could to get some friction on your core.

You had no idea what the average size was, but Sukuna was definitely above that. Your fingers weren’t even close to touch, how were you supposed to…?

“Come closer” he spread his legs, Sukuna was back to his original position, back against the rest, looking down at you like you were a bug. You noticed the frown was gone, like he was more relaxed.

You obeyed, moving more into the middle of his legs your face now just inches from his dick.

His hand guided yours up, stopping before the head and going back down encouraging you to squeeze his base, his chest was rising faster as you learned the way he liked it. You approached the dark red tip, giving it a kitten lick to test waters, a satisfied groan from the devil made your face heat up.

“Don’t be shy” he placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down his hard cock as you put your hands on his thighs for support.

Sukuna pulled you back before he hit the back of your throat, when your lips reached his tip you sucked it and felt his hand closing and pulling your hair.

“Liked the taste?” he teased. You would never admit it out loud… but you did. The bitterness of it and his scent made you high.

Being a virgin you didn’t expect a cock to be so hot. Literally. You felt your cheeks burn just being this close to his hot skin.

Your tongue traced the underside of his length, the warmest point of him. Out of curiosity you reached for his balls too, they ehere even hotter and so heavy.

Sukuna adjusted his hips, tilting it a little but enough to make you gag on it.

“Open wider” his rough hand held your face, index and tumb forcing the sides of your jaw to stretch more. It hurt, you wined, sinking your nails on his thigh, “Relax…”

You’ve read porn before, you know what you’re supposed to do, in theory.

“I need to buy cigarettes, you can wait here” Aki told you when you reached a convenience store.

“I’ll go in with you” you replied, while Aki went to the counter you walked to where the maganize were. You picked the newest edition of a popular one, flipping through it you found an interesting article. It was a reader question for the recurring sexologist. My husband never comes when I suck him off, what should I do to improve my head game?

You brought the magazine closer, not fully reading the answer but just scanning your eyes over the words that stood out the most.

Create a vacuum by pursing your lips… focus on the frenulum… suck the balls… swallow when it reaches the back of your—

“You buying this?” Aki was suddenly beside you, your head was basically inside the magazine, thankfully shielding the content.

“No, there’s nothing good” you closed it quickly and put it back.

You should’ve come back for that.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax your throat as Sukuna applied pressure to the back of your head, as soon as his thickness reaches the very back of your throat your eyes fill with water.

“That’s it, choke around my cock, little hunter. Allow me to bruise that throat of yours” he bucks his hips and you realize you have almost no control over it anymore, just surrender to the situation. A mixture of liquids accumulated on your chin, almost dripping.

Sukuna love this more than he should, you looked so helpless. But those eyes didn’t deceive him, he could see the lust, the hazy look and your delicate hand under his balls told him the secrets you didn’t.

“You’re such a whore, you know that?” you swallowed, “You know why?” he bent, one hand still on the back of your head and the other around your neck, he pushed you until your lips were amost at his base. All the heavy meat of his cock down your throat.

Your teary eyes looked up at him, the hand on your neck closed around it, Sukuna could feel his own shape through your skin. You eyes widened realizing you could barely breath.

“Because good girls don’t take dick like this” he trusted a few more times until you felt it twitch, your hair was aggressively being pulled but the hand around your neck kept you in place while he shot hot loads down your esophagus.

“Eat it” he commanded and you obeyed, shutting your eyes and swelling it, although it was a lot.

Sukuna pulled you away, mesmerized by the string of cum and saliva connecting your mouth to his cock.

You inhaled for the first time since this started but soon began to cough, your jaw ached and your legs were numb beneath you.

“Monster” you managed to murmur in a extremely husky voice.

“Please” he was catching up his own breath, through blurry eyes you could see his abdomen was sweaty, his thigh was slightly shaking. Sukuna bent, supporting his elbows on his knees to get really close to your messed face, his huge hand approached your face and out of reflex you fliched, but with a delicacy you would never expect he removed the strands of your hair that got caugh in your wet face. The sudden act made your face soften, he ran a thumb over your swallowed lips, rubbing the saliva off, he looked at you with a proud smirk. You felt vulnerable at that moment, his eyes didn't seem dangerous, and he was so close you couldn’t help but close your eyes and reach for a kiss.

You found nothing.

Opening your eyes again you saw the tiles of your bathroom, finding yourself naked on the floor. Droplets of your wet hair ran down your back, you took your towel off the floor and wrap it around your shoulders and attempted to get up, groaning from the pain on your knees. The groan scratched your sore throat and you started to cough again, moving to the sink you lowered your head trying to get some water but the image in the mirror scared you. There was a clear imprint of a hand around your neck, you traced it in shock. You thought about what to say tomorrow at work, should you wear a scarf?

But the most important question was: how deeply involved were you with Sukuna now that he had literally marked you?

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x FemReader) IV

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz

_______________𖤐

Red hand marks were imprinted on y/n's face from leaning on them all night, body folded up on the lounge chair she must have passed out on last night. Was it all just a bad dream? she wondered. Throughout the night, her fire had died and left embers, muddy footprints sat in front of the metal gate shielding her from them. Confirming that last night, in fact, was not a bad dream. Letters had made a pile in her hallway, falling in from her letter box. Satans "W" stamp in the corner of each one. Today was going to be fun. 

"Fill me in on every sacrifice, mister" Y/N said to the fishy sinner below her, rushing to her office all the while struggling to finish tying her red bow around their neck. 

"We have had very few that are worth while this morning. A Mister Valentino performed a seance an hour ago, wanting money" He adjusted his monocle, trying to read the tiny writing on the paper slipping from fin to fin. "He seems to be a big drug lord, i think humans refer to them as "pimps" these days". 

"Interesting, and very easy. Lets start with that for today" Y/n grabs the file, slamming the door of her office into her assistants face. 

"Again...?" He mumbles under his breath, nose slamming into the hard frame.

After a second of scanning the file, y/n nodded to herself. Now sitting in her spinny chair at her desk. "Okay, first one of the day. Lets get those numbers up for you Boss" She mumbled, tying her hair into a bun to organize herself for business. Purple mist surrounded her, filtering through the furniture and pouring outside the room like a floor filling her office. Mere seconds passed, before her body melted into it and became an atom in the air. Vents in her space inhaled the air, making a vile sucking sound like it had taken a hit of a cigarette. She was gone.

In another world, another country, with blue skies and a full moon. She appeared in another office, similar to hers. Only there was natural light filled to the brim, and a rather ugly satanic star under her. How tacky, she thought. "You know, valentino, you don't need all these props to summon me" Her voice came across rather menacing to the tall man sat at his desk. 

"Satan?!" He half yelled, almost forgetting he basically called her into his office. His accent taking her a little by surprise. 

"Of sorts, i supposed. Don't act so surprised."

"i... i didn't think it would actually work" His gold tooth shined through his smile that had creeped onto his face.

"uh huh, uh huh. You wanted money? Am i correct?" She sounded bored, they were bored. It was the same shit every time. 

"Yes... oh! And a bigger name for myself!" He added

"That all?" he nodded hastily in response to her question. "I assume you know what i need in return?" Again, he nodded to the question, hand already stretched out to receive hers. As soon at they connected, he felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his body, as if the life was being sucked away from him. When his eyes flung open, he only just caught a glimpse of the purple aura she faded into. Back in hell again. Not even 10 minutes later. 

"Thats a start i suppose" She mumbled, back at her desk again. The rest of her day consisted of hundreds of souls being taken from greedy humans. Some of them really freaked y/n out. They weren't all money or power hungry. Some just wanted help to hide a body. Which is a lot worse than you think. 

On the other side of hell, sat the radio demon in his tower. Broadcasting another voice for sinners to hear in their nightmares later that night. His dinner distracting him from thoughts that had been eating at him. Why doesn't she remember him? Didn't she ever care? He didn't look vastly different than he did when he was alive... other than the red hair, and antlers, and red eyes, and hooves.... and deer ears. But other than that, he was the same. 

"Stop it! Al!" Y/n hit him playfully as he kissed her cheek. "We are live any second!" She stifled a giggle as the ticker counted down. He smiles at her warm expressions, struggling to look away. They had a 'thing' for a while. Never really giving it a label. They wanted to, but there was so much going on they never had the time to prioritize a relationship. Oh how he regrets it now. 

The broadcast aired, mainly giving updates on the weather and the uprising war in Europe. Trying their best to offer some comedic relief to the distressed citizens, and telling them "Not to worry! Things get worse before they get better folks, look at me!" Alastor bellowed down the line, chuckles following behind him. The broadcasts always ended with a small, catchy jingle to sign them off. 

"You think things will get better soon?" Y/n questioned as the red light indicated they are done for the day. A moment of silent speaks for Alastor's thoughts, waiting for the right words to pop into his head. "The depression can't last forever, dear. Besides, as long as we are with the right people, nothing can go wrong" His hand ended up holding hers without a second thought, a soft expression washing over his face whilst their eyes connected in a shared feeling. "Thank you" She says.

She cared. She really did. Something must have happened to her down here. He refused to believe nothing could be done. Perhaps he just needed to make her fall in love all over again. 

"Good afternoon, sacrificial demon" He appeared from the floor next to her, resulting in her body jolting back and almost having an outer body experience. 

"Don't call me that" A scowl was thrown at him, clutching at her coat harder as the temperature for the day started its nightly decline. "What do you want now? Didn't already find someone for lunch?" She began walking again.

"Actually, i had quite a pleasant lunch" He responded cheerfully, she knows. She heard the broadcast. "No, I'm here to make amends"

She stops in front of him in the middle of the almost deserted street. Sinners giving them space when the sight of them makes their knees want to give out. "What is your game?" she throws an accusing finger at him. "You are either playing a long game with your future prey, or you have another goal in mind. So what is it? I'm sick of playing guess who with you. What do you want with me?" Her voice escalates to frustration.

"To get to know you, dear"

"What makes me any different from the other overlords you've made your midnight snack? Hm?" She cuts him off, her face getting closer to his in attempts to read him. The usual smile not daring to flinch from its position made it hard to. His static fell silent for a millisecond before his sharp teeth moved to speak. "You remind me of someone I used to care for" A softer voice scared her, almost genuine she felt. A uncanny sense of familiarity washed over her like a kiss wakening her from imminent slumber. "If i wanted to kill you i-"

"Already would have. I know, I know." She cuts him off again, looking at the floor in thought. "How do i know i can trust you enough to allow myself not to kill you?" Her eyes find his and his heart hits the floor.

"I suppose you don't know. But it doesn't seem like you have much to lose" She did have a lot to lose, but she couldn't care less about the empire she had been forced to take. A second was taken to think this through. It would be nice to have another friend. Or another purpose other than sinful business. 

"Do you like tea?" She began walking again, not waiting long for him to jog a little to catch up with her walking speed.

"Actually, i like coffee. No milk or sugar"

"Hail lucifer, you really are a sociopath aren't you?" Their voices faded down the the streets, his chuckle echoing behind them. Maybe he did have a chance. 

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“Thank you all for coming,” Goldenstar said to the assembled warriors of RisingClan. “This should be quick.” Everyone had gathered at sunhigh to talk while the kits were sleeping. Even Sagetooth and Oddstripe were in attendance. The only cat missing was Songdust, whose absence hung heavy over the group like an ill omen.

Yarrowshade shrugged and said, “We’re happy to be here, Goldie.” She smiled and he grinned in return. It was good to see her smiling again. Beside her, Scorchplume’s tail was twined with hers, a development he had noticed a few days ago but said nothing about yet. Neither of them seemed to want to bring it up either so he left it alone.

“We all want to see the end of this war,” said Pantherhaze and the rest of the group concurred. Yarrowshade in particular couldn’t wait to pay the rogues back for all the grief they had caused him. His claws ached to sink into their fur. His skin itched for the satisfaction of a well-deserved wound.

“I’ve been discussing strategies with Scorchplume,” Goldenstar said, “and she thinks there’s a way we could manage to take Razor out of play, which would be huge.” 

“Yes,” Scorchplume said, less excited than Goldenstar was. “It’s risky though.”

“Risky is what we do,” Floodpaw purred proudly. Oddstripe clucked with worry. 

“Right,” said Goldenstar. “A risk with big pay off is way better than continuing to sit and wait. Go ahead.” 

“Alright,” sighed Scorch. Yarrowshade watched her shift uncomfortably and added another smack to the list of punishments he owed Razor. “When Smokyrose came to the city, they were discussing a peace agreement. Until Ghost arrived, it looked like he was going to arrange a one on one meeting with Goldenstar that he would use to ambush her and take out your leader.” 

A few cats shifted bitterly at the mention of Smokyrose. 

“The plan is to arrange that meeting,” Goldenstar said with a fiery conviction in her voice, “and then ambush him back.” 

“But it’s extremely dangerous,” Scorch cautioned. “Goldenstar will have to be basically alone with Razor for at least a few moments. If there are any mistakes, Goldenstar could die.” 

“I could lose a life,” Goldenstar admitted, “but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as the rest of you come in to corner him, we should succeed.” Scorch chewed her lip, tail rippling irritably, and Yarrowshade realized that she still didn’t believe in Goldenstar’s nine lives. 

“I think it sounds like a solid course of action,” Sagetooth said. “I’ll consult StarClan but I think we should plan on going through with it.” 

“We should ask the other Clans too,” said Pantherhaze. “We only won the last battle because of their help. We could use it again.” 

“Yeah, we don’t know how many cats Razor will bring with him,” said Sparrowpaw. “Best to be prepared.”

“I agree,” Goldenstar said, “and I’m sure something this important will get Flightstar and Snowstar to agree to it. Scorchplume believes that Razor thinks I’m the Clans’ only leader, so I’ll also be the one meeting him and taking on all the risk.” Scorch shifted again.

“Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Oddstripe said. “I don’t want to have more of you injured than is necessary.” Sagetooth twitched her ear. 

“We’ll train in defensive combat strategies and cooperative fighting in preparation,” said Russetfrond, looking more like himself than he had over the last couple days. Yarrowshade had enjoyed how miserable Mystique’s pregnancy had made him at first but by now he was just glad that the deputy had stopped moping. It was unsettling - too unlike him.

“Good idea,” Goldenstar nodded. “Russetfrond and I will come up with a more decisive battle plan and share it with you all during training. Are there any other questions?” 

“What are we going to do about Songdust?” Floodpaw asked impatiently. Barleypaw nodded. Sparrowpaw looked at the ground. Pantherhaze and Ospreymask leaned forward for the answer.

Goldenstar shifted. “That’s a little more complicated…” 

“I know a cat or two who might be able to help,” Scorch said, “but there’s not much we can do without going into the city which we can’t really do with Razor in power like this.” 

“StarClan will protect her if they can,” Sagetooth said. “Defeating Razor is the first step. Then we can think about rescuing Songdust.” No one seemed satisfied with that answer, but Scorch was right. There wasn’t really anything they could do. 

After a moment or two of silence, Goldenstar said, “Alright then. Meeting adjourned. Everyone focus on preparing for the battle. May StarClan guide us.”

“May StarClan guide us,” said Sagetooth, Oddstripe, Barleypaw, and Pantherhaze’s staggered voices. The cats began to disperse. Yarrowshade picked himself up and moved to talk with Scorch and Goldenstar. 

“Hey, you guys wanna go train or something?” he asked. Goldenstar looked to Scorchplume.

“You two can go,” Scorch said. “I’m not going to go anywhere near Razor.” 

“Still, it can’t hurt to get some practice in, right?” Yarrowshade asked. She looked at him and he swore he could hear her thoughts, how irritating she found him, how much she hated him for ‘choosing Nightfrost.’

“Fine,” she said shortly. 

“Great,” Goldenstar laughed a little and Scorch shot her a subtle glare. “Or what if we scout out places for the meeting instead? That’s something you could help with.” 

“I suppose,” Scorchplume hummed, seeming more inclined to that idea. Yarrowshade couldn’t help but feel like she just liked Goldenstar’s ideas better than his. He swallowed tightly and tried not to look disappointed. 

“Sounds good to me,” he said brightly. “Let’s go.” 

They set out towards the southern border. The day was warm for the season, bright and sunny with a welcome breeze. Yarrowshade tilted his face to the sun and tried to enjoy the warmth of it. 

“How’ve you been, by the way?” asked Goldenstar.

He tilted his head in her direction. “Good, I guess.” Lonely. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two though.” 

“Same, honestly,” Goldenstar said, leaning into Scorchplume’s side. “I can’t wait for all this business to be over so things can go back to normal.” 

“Normal is extremely relative,” Scorch hummed. “I for one am sick of normal.”

“We’ll just have to make a new normal then,” Yarrowshade tried, offering her a smile. She raised her brows at him but said nothing. He tried not to frown. 

“Scorch,” Goldenstar said softly. “He’s trying. Be nice to him.” Yarrowshade blushed at being called out like that. Was he so obvious? Scorch scowled at Goldenstar but there was no malice in her gaze. 

“I’ll do what I please,” she huffed.

“I know,” purred Goldenstar, “but you guys used to be good friends right? I don’t see the point in holding onto a grudge when you could just get along again.”

“Look,” Yarrowshade cut in, fur prickling in discomfort, “if it helps; I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

“Whatever you did?” Scorch raised her brows even higher somehow. 

“Yes?” he winced. This felt like a trap. 

“What was that, exactly?” Scorch asked. Goldenstar was mouthing something but he was terrible at reading lips. 

“For…” Yarrowshade hesitated. He had to find the correct answer. “For not choosing you?” There was a moment of silence where Scorch sized him up and he and Goldenstar held their breath. 

Then Scorch said, “Apology accepted.” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar sighed in relief. Scorch flicked her ear in annoyance. 

But after that, things were alright. Yarrowshade brought up a funny story from hunting with Barleypaw the other day and the others laughed. Scorch poked fun at him with an easy smile rather than a cold, defensive one. Goldenstar wouldn’t stop purring. He still felt like he was walking on thin ice, but at least for now Scorch was finding him entertaining. That was all he wanted, really. 

Discussion moved on to talk about how Barleypaw and her littermates would be warriors in a moon or two. Goldenstar expressed being nervous about her first real warrior ceremony as leader and Scorch and Yarrowshade told her she had nothing to worry about. From there, they started talking about Slatekit and Fogkit and their upcoming ceremony. 

“I still don’t know who should mentor Fogkit,” said Goldenstar as they paused to examine the sightlines on one hill. “I think I have Slatekit settled but Fogkit doesn’t like Ospreymask anymore and I’m not sure who else could mentor her.” 

“She’s a pawful, isn’t she?” Yarrowshade chuckled. “Yesterday I caught her ‘crafting curses’ out of claw sheds and bird bones.” 

“Crafting curses?” Scorch said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” shrugged Yarrowshade. “I don’t know where she got the idea but she said she was trying to curse the rogues to death.” He shook his head. “I’m honestly glad I already have Barleypaw cause I don’t think I would want to try and untangle that whole mess.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Goldenstar said. “I would take her myself but I’ve already got Floodpaw.”

“You can’t just take every apprentice who seems like they’ll be a pawful,” Scorch huffed. 

“Is that a challenge?” Goldenstar teased and Scorch rolled her eyes. 

“Look, if it’s really such a predicament, just give her to me.” 

Yarrowshade and Goldenstar fell into stunned silence. 

“What?” Scorch bristled defensively. “Is that so outlandish?”

“No, no,” Goldenstar said quickly, a smile spreading across her face, “I just didn’t expect you to want an apprentice! I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.” 

“Does that mean you’re staying?” Yarrowshade asked excitedly. 

Scorch swished her tail back and forth, puffing up like a ginger pigeon. “For now,” she said. “By the time I leave, Floodpaw will be a warrior and then Goldenstar can take over her training.” 

Yarrowshade cocked a brow, smirking. “I don’t buy it.” 

Goldenstar was grinning like an idiot. “Oh, Scorch!” she purred, butting her head into Scorchplume’s shoulder. “I love you so much!”

“That’s it!” Scorch said, putting both paws on Goldenstar’s face and shoving her away. “I’m actually leaving right now and throwing myself in the river.” 

“Wait, no!” wailed Goldenstar through laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use the forbidden word!” She threw herself at Scorch’s feet and clung to her like a needy kitten. Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. 

“Please, your excellence,” she said, pretending to be scandalized, “you forget yourself.” Goldenstar laughed, chest thrumming with an uncontrollable purr. 

Yarrowshade swallowed thickly. Grief, unexpected and overwhelming, flooded his mind as he watched them joke and flirt. Neither of them seemed to notice and he was grateful for it. He carefully turned away and started down the far side of the hill, breathing slowly through his nose to try and stop himself from tearing up. 

Get it together, Yarrowshade, he thought to himself. This was such a stupid thing to cry over! He wasn’t going to let them see him like this. 

“Look,” Scorch said smugly, “your pathetic displays have scared off Yarrowshade.”

“Ah!” Goldenstar cried, still laughing, “Yarrowshade, wait! I’m sorry!”

He paused and let out one last breath before forcing the frown off of his face. “I think this hill is too exposed,” he said, glancing back at them. “Maybe we should try somewhere with trees?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Goldenstar had gotten to her feet and was halfway to him, Scorch trailing behind. Both of them looked so happy it hurt to watch.

“Do you think Orangestar would let us hold the meeting on EarthClan territory?” he asked, looking away. He focused his eyes on the trees up ahead and tried to pretend that he was fine. 

“Maybe!” Goldenstar said. “I’ll bring it up at the Gathering.” 

“Hmm,” Scorch chewed her lip. “Could we take a look anyway or would that be inappropriate.” 

“I’m not sure,” Goldenstar said.

“Probably best to wait for permission,” Yarrowshade said. 

“Yeahhhh,” Goldenstar sighed. “Oh well. Why don’t we catch some lunch and head back?” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Scorch. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade turned back to them, smiling again even if it felt a little forced. “I’d love that.”

[euphoricfilter]

Devil That I Know: The Prologue

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! F. Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Angst || Demon au || Non-Idol au || Yandere au || Reincarnation || Strangers to Lovers

Summary: It's a shame how refuge will become your downfall.

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags/ warnings: mentioned death/ murder, sacrifice, sexy demon jungkook who has 4 arms, jimin is just mean (for now), the start of the yandere and just taehyung being a cutie

Notes: she’s back! and better than ever, new and improved, my baby <3 even if you’ve read the old version of dtik, i recommend reading again!! there has been a few added elements + way better writing!

devil that i know masterlist || my other stuff

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[a little death]

[1859]

Death seemed to have found solace in your shadow. Slithering around your ankles and chewing up any unfortunate living being you came across; acting as a parasite, touch of your fingers sticky poison. The rawest form of hatred radiating off your skin into the world, a curse. 

A simple wish for the price of a life, and maybe this was the universe’s sick joke, that you’ll live to suffer while the rest of the world carries the burden of a small selfish wish.

Maybe death has found home in your sorrows, wretched sadness, anguish, ugly ugly emotions cradling you like a mother would her child. Truly pitiful comfort where anger is useless.

It must have been almost a year ago your misfortune had truly started, foolishly leaving a life you never wanted. Though you suppose you never really had a choice, this day was inevitable when you were the odd one out, a leech, a pitiful child– not that that mattered at all to the man who was the starting point of your resentment. 

A wish for a life that was solely your own. A wish you never thought had been too big of an ask, leaving fragile hope in the hands of fate, praying that the world would take pity on your wilted soul. 

Now, freedom was a day’s journey away. Coastline so close yet so far away, a new life, one you’d been dreaming of since young, slipping through your fingers like dry sand– every step forward, the sea pulling away until you’re chasing after sodden dreams, leaving you stranded at the shore. 

Life looked like a damp cell in a run-down village, barely holding on; dependent on trade, though only one other village thrives in this area, hours away– over the mountain. Trips far and few with the horses they have, produce barely worth a piece of gold. 

The true situation of the village should have become apparent at their panic of unexpected visitors. Accusations spat your way, your own life flashing before your eyes, only for your friend to bear the brunt of their temper. No one of them had thought to hear you out, their words like venom, because in their eyes you’d come to spy on their village, a lie that would ruin you. 

You weren’t like them; and so you’d become an easy target. 

Secrets locked behind closed doors, lies fed to those clueless of what really happened when the sun falls over the horizon and the world is shrouded in darkness. 

Corruption was everywhere, the world so unfair, where fickle human emotions consume those greedy enough to sell their souls for power, for something more, anything to get out of their awful little lives. 

If you told a lie long enough, if you yourself believed in it, then surely it must be true. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d never expected your first encounter with death, you suppose no one really does. And in your months of solitude, locked up against your will, you’ve learnt you can’t change the past. No matter how many tears wet the dry ground, how much you scream, how much you pray to anyone listening, the past will forever be how it is and you can’t change that. 

Regret is an awful emotion, a million ‘what ifs’ consuming your mind. What if you and your friend had chosen the village over the mountain? What if you had never decided to leave? What if you had traveled alone?

If things had been different, minute details that could have changed the whole course of your life, then maybe your friend would still be alive. Maybe you’d have found the coast, hair windswept as you stand on the deck of the boat, life that of a bird; free. 

You could never see much out of the small window of your cell, rare that the sun would dare poke its head in to say hello, never there to kiss your cheeks red, or warm frozen toes.

The nights had started to get colder, the few seconds you got to see the outside world through the open door is enough for you to know the leaves had begun falling off the trees. Dusty path blanketed with reds and oranges, footsteps harder to hear on the few days you’re fed– never more than what’s left over from the village men. 

The second time death had chosen to lurk was when a crisis had become of the village. Their crops rotting, black mold greedy in the way it had chewed through their livestock. Animals sent from the gods, lay dead on the ground, useless when their harvest season was right around the corner. 

“An evil spirit has cursed the lands” 

You’d wondered how you’d escaped the clutches of death a second time. But your purpose had become apparent when you’d heard whispers of the demon that lived in the mountains. A ruler of this very land.

Rumors carried by the wind had told you that he’d become restless, that the townspeople needed a sacrifice to sate his growing rage. They couldn’t go a season without crops, and none of the men dared push their wives forward as the gift. 

And so you, had been the sacrifice. The true purpose of them keeping you locked up and alive, was to act as their gift for the one that lived in the mountains.

Human fear is often the scariest, compassion absolutely destroyed, empathy non-existent. 

That’s why you don’t find yourself begging when you’re woken up one morning, cold water a shock to the system. Adrenaline useless as it pumps through your veins. It doesn’t take long for you to grasp the reason one of the village boys had come to see you so early, the sun barely having woken herself. 

You cough, wiping your wet face with the backs of your hand. Eyebrows creased into a frown as your eyes flit over to the entrance of your cell. 

“Get up” 

He mustn't be much older than you, pretty lips turned down into a prominent frown that you have to will yourself not to scoff at. Because really if anyone should frown as though the world were against them, it should be you. 

You don’t move, a dangerous game you’d been playing since you’d first arrived in the village. Because if you acted as though you didn’t understand them, language not your own, then you’d keep a little bit of your freedom. Ignorance covered as misunderstandings; actions out of spite, simply accidents. 

The boy tuts, door to the cell creaking, almost yanked off it hinges as he strides towards you. He’s rough as he grabs onto your arms, pulling you up from the sorry excuse of a bed. You pull your arms from his grip, skin prickly with pure hatred. 

“Change into these” he shoves a pile of clothes into your arms, tattered underwear falling to the floor.

If you had any shame, maybe you’d be a little embarrassed as he turns around, arms crossed over his chest. Though it seemed that any lick of shame that dared plague your mind, was consumed by anger as you yank your clothes off—Wringing your wet hair out, rolling the bottoms of the pants up. 

You flinch at the sound of another voice, “Jimin, are you almost done?”

The village boy turns around, eyes raking over your body, “Almost” he calls back. 

You eye the open door as Jimin steps out of your cell, “Don’t even think about it” 

It’s uncomfortable how tight he ties the ropes, hands bound behind your back where one mean tug from Jimin could send you tumbling face first into the floor. 

And it’s infinitely more uncomfortable how the whole village seems to gather, the chief parading you down the split path of people like a prize as Jimin watches your back.

A gift sent from the heavens to save their village, to save their people. Ironic when months ago everyone had been cursing your existence, asking why they should keep you locked up, why you hadn’t died beside your friend. 

It takes almost a day to hike up the mountain on foot, they may have thought of you as their sacrificial savior, that didn’t mean they were willing to waste their resources on you. 

Sweat tickles the back of your neck, hair clinging to your skin uncomfortably. You’re tired. Moments away from your legs giving way, willing to let the sun melt your skin and bones until you become one with the earth. Summer sun still clinging onto the sky before the seasons truly change.

The world takes pity on you as you stumble over your own feet, almost headbutting Jimin’s back as he stops. Your heart is in your throat as reality sets in, the rumors of a demon true. It didn’t look like anyone lived here; picket fence damp, old in a way that bugs had chewed through the wood.

Your eyes settle on the sign that hangs from a tree branch– “Jeon”. 

Jimin grabs the thick rope of the bell, muscles in his arms flexing as he announces your arrival. 

The shred of hope that you held in your heart shatters when you hear the crunch of footsteps. Silhouette of a man wandering through the archway of trees behind the fence.

You think he looks more like an angel than a demon, hair a fluffy mess, almost cute in the way he almost trips over his sandals. He catches himself before he can fall, stopping in front of Jimin on the other side of the gate. 

He places a hand over his heart, taking his time in catching his breath– and you can see Jimin’s patience wearing thin, heel of his boot tapping against the grass. Face etched into a permanent scowl that you can only assume is your doing.

You wet your lips at the sound of the boy’s voice, deeper than you’d expected, “Hello, how may I help you?” 

Your eyes fixate on the mole sat at the tip of his nose. 

“Are you the demon that resides here?” Jimin tugs you forward, heavy hand falling on the back of your neck. 

“Oh–” the man’s eyes widen, running a hand through his hair, “No, he’s inside” 

You peek over his shoulder, path veiled by trees, dark abyss waiting beyond the rotted gate. A world that looked so far from your own, a little secret hidden between the trees.

Jimin hums, “Here” he pats your back, “A delivery from the village” 

You dig your heels further into the ground as Jimin’s fingertips trail over your back, silent warning to do whatever you’re told. Maybe a cruel little goodbye, because the both of you knew that you might not ever make it out of there alive.

He waves at you as he starts his descent down the mountain, sadistic little smile of his face.  

Now would be a good time to run, though you wouldn’t know where to go. You suppose anything would be better than this. Maybe if you begged nicely the demon would kill you painlessly; maybe listening to your cries of mercy. Granting you an easy death so you could finally rest. 

The demon’s friend slips through the fence, “Do you understand me? Are you okay?” 

You nod. So many words hanging on the tip of your tongue, though you don’t seem to know what to say first. 

“I’m Taehyung” he tells you, smile fragile as he moves to take a look at your bound wrists. “May I?” he asks, and you turn to give him better access to your back. 

“What’s your name?” 

You swallow, wetting your dry throat, “Y/n” 

“Jungkook is really nice, I’m sure he’ll let you stay for a while” 

It’s weird how even as the ropes make a dull thump against the damp ground, you don’t feel any more free than you had when you’d been bound. 

Opening the gate, Taehyung motions for you to step inside, letting you follow him down the path and into the open area. Your eyes wander over the courtyard, freshly fallen leaves the color of a sunset scattered across the grass. Stood through the archway of trees stands the heart of the house. 

Without knocking, Taehyung pulls the door open. Intricately crafted table sat in the middle of the room.

He sits at the table like royalty, posture that of a king– clothes that of a nobleman. He looked younger than Taehyung, book held by one hand ever so elegantly, really he could be mistaken for a royal if it weren’t for the inky black snake that peeks out of the sleeve of his shirt. 

You try not to linger on his extra pair of arms. Breath catching in your throat when they fold over his stomach. Entirely unhuman, something you’d never seen before.

His eyes flicker over your face, turning to Taehyung with his eyebrow raised. You flinch as he shuts his book, full attention now on you and his friend. 

“Who’s this?” 

You feel the embarrassment lick up your spine as he takes in the way you’re dressed, warm blush surely flushing your cheeks pink. Both of your lives so dramatically different. 

Taehyung clears his throat when you don’t say anything, “This is Y/n” 

“Does she understand us?” Jungkook asks, curious eyes meeting your own. Taehyung turns to you, nudging your shoulder with his elbow. 

“I do” and Jungkook hums, a little taken aback with how formal you’d come off. 

“Why are you here?” there’s no malice in his voice, simple curiosity. Something you hadn’t been expecting. And you wish he had just shouted, unexpected understanding strange when you had prepared for the worst. 

Taehyung grabs a pillow from under the table, fingertips barely grazing your back as he helps you sit opposite Jungkook. 

“I’ll make us some tea” Taehyung smiles. A whisper for him to stay stuck on the tip of your tongue as he wanders further into the back room leaving you alone with Jungkook. 

Your eyes stay trained in your lap, picking at your nails, fiddling with the hem of your shirt; really anything to keep you from having to look into Jungkook’s eyes. 

“I asked a question” he reminds you, “why are you here?” 

“I’m a sacrifice. A gift from the people in the village of the east” 

“A gift?” he urges, utterly enraptured by the mind of humans. 

“Their land had been cursed, or so they say” you meet his eyes, “this is an offering for you to save the land, to sate your anger. That’s all I know, no one ever spoke much around the cell they kept me in” 

“Cell?” his eyebrows raise, curious.

You hum, “It is nothing but rumors, but they say the king wanted people like myself dead, the chief had told his people I’d come to spy on them. That my life would be of use, so they let me live” 

“Is that so?” Jungkook falls back, holding himself up by his arms, “Taehyung hadn’t told me such rumors were going around” 

You open your mouth, a question that’s been playing on your mind since a child put to an abrupt stop when Taehyung wanders back into the room. Teacup and delicate little porcelain plates balanced on a wooden tray. 

“Thank you” your voice is barely above a whisper as your fingers delicatly take hold of the cup. 

“So–” Taehyung starts, taking a seat beside you, “are you staying with us?”

Your hand flies to your mouth, a lame attempt in covering a cough as your eyes meet Jungkook’s. 

“Please? I could always use the extra help” Taehyung continues, arm slung over your shoulder, “What do you think?” 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, head tilting in question. It’s strange how far you can get lost in someone’s eyes, how for some it’s ever so easy to nitpick seemingly insignificant changes in expression. Maybe it had been a self-defense mechanism, a means to survive, but you’d always felt you’d been good at knowing how people felt, knowing where to build a wall, draw a line, anything.

Jungkook was a strange being, how what lies beneath his gaze is unattable no matter how long you search.

Jungkook’s eyes gave no indication as to how he felt about you. Expression eerily neutral that even if you were to ask him how he felt, his tone would be of no help. Someone so in control of their body and mind, someone above that of natural human nature; and you suppose thats only fair considering he weren’t a mortal like you or Taehyung. 

“You guys do whatever you want” Jungkook picks up his book, touch gentle as he flips back to the page he’d left. 

You turn to Taehyung, “If it’s okay, then I don’t mind staying” because living a life secluded from the world, protected by the rotting gate at the end of the path, was a safer way to live than travelling alone with no place to call home.

And as long as Jungkook held no resentment towards you, letting you live a life of peace, even if only for a fleeting moment—then maybe you’d hold onto that last selfish little sliver of hope. 

Taehyung takes ahold of your hands, the prettiest smile gracing his face, “You must be exhausted. How about a bath? You’ll have to wear some of my clothes until I can make you some–” 

“Tae” Jungkook laughs, “Slow down, you’ll overwhelm her” 

Taehyung’s fingers intertwine with your own, tugging you to stand.

You turn back to Jungkook before Taehyung can drag you out of the room, “Thank you” you call out to him.

He waves you off, thumb running over his bottom lip, “It’s nothing” and really it wasn't, he already housed one human, what was one more? Not when like Taehyung, you’d been betrayed by your own kind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Have you heard of any rumors circulating the village?” Jungkook asks his friend, Taehyung running a hand through his hair. Having left you to wash up and change before he would show you your new bedroom.

“Rumours?” Taehyung’s head tilts a little.

Jungkook hums, “About the king” 

“None” he shakes his head, “Only whispers about bandits raiding the outskirts of the capital” 

“Nothing about any spies?” 

Taehyung’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, back straightening slightly as he gazes down at Jungkook. “Is this about Y/n?” 

Jungkook sighs, “Something’s happening in the east, don’t go there from now on” 

Taehyung nods, “I’ll keep an eye on her, just in case” 

“I doubt there’s a need. The two of you are quite similar” Jungkook hums, “Just make sure she’s comfortable, that’s all I ask” 

“And you?” 

Jungkook pushes himself to stand, “Nothing much will change around here” 

Taehyung’s role in Jungkook’s life hadn’t been a coincidence. And as much as it felt like Jungkook was the one helping Taehyung, demons were a little more selfish than that. Sure, Jungkook gave Tae a second chance at life, but that was only because he wanted something from him. It all worked out in the end, Jungkook made his first friend and Taehyung lived comfortable. 

You, however, Jungkook hadn’t seeked you out. You were handed to him by the graces of hell, destiny walking you up this mountain. Adorably strong-willed, though perhaps too trusting of the very being that could bring you to your downfall.

Jungkook was anything but a saviour, everything he ever did was only to with his own wellbeing in mind. But you, you were the one thing that he hadn’t planned. An anomaly thrusted in his face, how could he turn away his gift from the world?

Your desire for freedom was endearing, the human will to live something Jungkook found utterly intriguing when all the world seemed to do was fuck you over. Naïve hope disguised by a hard exterior, pitiful in the way the world had rejected your mere existence. Something Jungkook was more willing to use, arms curling around your fragile existence.

Because as much as you thought of him as your refuge, he knew that he would become your downfall.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

"Okay," Zelda said, smacking her fist into her palm. "This one is going to be it."

Silently, her companion added a scratch mark to some parchment he'd been carrying.

Zelda glanced at him, eyes narrowing. "Are you keeping tabs?"

"Only when you say this one is going to be it or some variation of it," Link replied smoothly.

Zelda huffed, ready to argue, when out of curiosity she asked, "Where are we at?"

"Eight."

"Ha! I expected more! This is good, then."

Link sighed. "What's the story with this one?"

"Hear me out," Zelda started excitedly, spreading her hands like she was opening a large book. "A thousand years ago our land was encased in shadow."

Link stopped his horse, staring at her. "Is this another one of Beedle's stories? The last one nearly got us killed."

"No, no, no!" Zelda grumbled, rolling her eyes. "This one is from my family. History may have turned to hearsay and legend for the common folk of Hyrule, but it's sacred to my family. This one actually happened!"

Link raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but urged his steed to start moving nonetheless.

"So," Zelda continued. "A thousand years ago, shadows came to our land and cursed our people. My ancestor joined up with royalty from a distant land and together, they summoned the Hero of Light, who destroyed the shadows. That very Hero lived in the village we're going to!"

Link had to admit... he was still dubious, but he was a little curious. "An actual Hero? There's relics of one of the acutal Heroes? What royalty from a distant land? The only neighboring land I know of fell to ruin a hundred years ago."

"I don't know where it was, honestly," Zelda answered sincerely. "They were always really vague about it and I don't know why. But apparently the person died, so they honored her sacrifice."

Link hummed, tossing his braid back over his shoulder. After going through multiple villages, towns, and even a city, the fact that they were going somewhere that might have housed an actual Hero at some point in history was almost promising. Perhaps Zelda would find who she was looking for and Link could return to his quiet home and avoid all this mess.

It seemed too good to be true, though. Heroes were relegated to myths. The only reason he knew those myths were real was because of his parents. But still... they were ancient.

Surely no such catastrophe could strike the land now. The princess was just naive, right?

"Ah! We're here!" Zelda announced happily, bringing her horse's steady stroll to an end. Link watched her climb off before following suit.

"Where is here?" he asked as they passed a spring.

"Ordon Village," the princess replied, popping her hands on her hips and smiling with pride.

Link stood there beside her, staring a moment and sniffing tentatively. "It smells like manure."

Zelda scrunched her nose. "It does not! What if that smell is something else entirely?"

"It's definitely manure, Highness."

"Well your town smelled like it too!"

"My town is a trading hub!"

"I can't even smell any--" Zelda stopped in mid-sentence as the wind changed directions, scrunching her nose. "Oh."

Link turned to her, now completely affronted. "What did you smell before that made you think of my town?"

Zelda waived a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter - we have to find the Hero!"

Link sighed, following the princess into the village. "Your Highness, your story is from a thousand years ago. That Hero is long gone."

"Of course he is," Zelda replied with a roll of her eyes. "But there's word of someone named Link who lives here!"

One royal pronouncement and excited welcome later, the pair found themselves standin gover a crib.

"Well," Link quipped. "I suppose he could cry the enemy to death."

Zelda's sour look was response enough.

"Is there a Rattle that Seals the Darkness?"

"Just shut up."

The princess could only be upset for so long before she started cooing at the baby and laughing as the little bundle giggled in reply. Even Link had to smile fondly at it. The two congratulated the happy couple and gave them their well wishes before dining with the village and setting out once more.

"I think your story was a bit off," Link remarked as they walked their horses to the edge of the village.

"Just because the lead was false doesn't mean that a Hero didn't once live here," the princess said a little stiffly. "My family's history speaks of it."

He didn't argue. His own father spoke often of the royal family's role in helping Hyrule remember its history. He just... well, he had to admit he was a little disappointed. While he wasn't nearly as excited by history as his father, the promise of seeing traces of the Hero had been simultaneously intriguing and unnerving.

Either way, it was back to the road for them.

The masseur paused as the princess continued, glancing over at the spring as something sparkly caught his eye. Was that... was that a fairy? He hadn't seen one of those since he was a child, and that had only been once! Distracted, he hovered back a hair as Zelda plodded ahead, but the princess noticed his stillness.

"What is it?" she asked, coming back to him, before she saw it too. With an excited gasp, she rushed ahead, and Link tripped over himself to follow her.

The fairy flitted away quickly, but the pair stopped nonetheless.

They were back at the spring, but behind the waterfalls that fed into it, they could make out a small engraving. The two slinked around the edge of the spring (Link nearly face planted on the smooth, slick stone) until they managed to get behind the roaring water. Link shivered as they both got soaked in the misty spray, but the princess seemed completely unbothered.

Zelda's hand snaked around his upper arm, eyes fixed on a point, and she whispered, "It's him."

Link was about to question what she meant, wondering how a stone could mean anything, when he squinted at engraved words that were below a half worn symbol of the Triforce.

-ink

-elove- --ther and husba--

H-ro of L--t & Sh-d-w

"There's no grave here," Link noted softly.

"A monument to him, then," Zelda noted, though a little confusedly. "Why wouldn't they bury him here, or somewhere with honor?"

Link stared at the stone, eyes trailing down to see fresh flowers placed there. The villagers know and didn't tell the princess. A soft smile pulled at his lips. "He comes from a pretty humble place. I think... I think he wanted to keep it that way."

The princess hummed, still perplexed but trying to understand. Eventually, though, she knelt, folding her hands in prayer. Link sank to his knees, sitting on his legs rather than kneeling, eyes looking beyond the words half lost to time. He thought of the history behind his name, and behind his people, and he wished for a moment that he could claim to be part of such a heroic lineage. If the Heroes of Hyrule were truly like this...

He sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head in honor.

[crusty-chronicles]

sorry if this is a bad time to request and feel free to put this off till whenever or even delete it if you're sick of airheaded stronk s/o asks

I was wondering, could you do short headcanons about how hiei and/or kurama with a stronk/airhead s/o would react to someone random or even a minor antagonist actively being rude their s/o while they're in earshot

[for a more specfic example maybe that eyeball at the gate of betrayal calls their attempted sacrifice foolish or the pretty boy purple guy from the dark tournment says smth like "it's a shame such a pretty face is wasted on such a brainless oaf" which has the added bonus(?) of sounding underhandedly flirtatious.]

again no pressure to write this quickly or at all. i just figured i'd throw it in your ask box incase it interested you at all.

Also entirley seperate question but would you be willing to cover roroanora zoro in your stronk/airhead s/o series?

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O DRABBLES: How they react to someone insulting their S/O

An: Of course I don't mind! Never be afraid to request things, it just might take me a little bit to get to them but really I enjoy doing them!

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

Kurama:

More than likely it would be a comment from Yomi or Kaito that would make him lose his cool. For this instance though, we'll go with the latter.

🦊🦊🦊🦊

It was a little after Botan got her soul stolen that Kaito decided to run his mouth. You having been kidnapped with Yusuke because where one went, the other followed. Much to Kurama's dismay.

"You've got me curious, playing house with a human I'd figure would be so far below you. Do you find them amusing? Maybe think of them as some sort of plaything? A way to keep yourself entertained?"

The taunt was an attempt to make the fox demon slip up. And it seemed to be working judging by his glare and increase in spirit energy.

"Did I strike a nerve? Don't tell me the great Yoko Kurama is actually infatuated with a human. And not a very bright one at that." There was a smirk on his face that only grew seeing Kurama manipulate the plants around him. Knowing he couldn't physically hurt him at the moment.

"You should have seen them. Getting all worked up over Urameshi being immobilized, only to fall for the exact same trap. It was almost too easy. Even when being told moving was useless, they still struggled. Yelling out curses and promises to...what was it? Oh yes, 'kick out asses' I believe. I never would have pegged you as the type to go after a stupid brute."

His cackling was soon disrupted by the sound of Kurama's voice. Speaking up at last with a tone so cruel, it temporarily frightened Kaito.

"You should hope I don't find a loophole around your no violence rule. Because if I do, you'll regret every last word." Eyes glowing an eerie golden.

When he finally bested the snarky human, he half thought to just crush his soul. No only because he put his friends in harm's way, but he also insulted you.

Insulted his relationship with you.

Buuuut, Kurama wasn't exactly allowed to end a human's life. And he refused to stoop that low anyways.

No, he'd just leave Kaito the way he was and focus instead on getting you and Yusuke back safely.

Overall he's petty about it, but not angry enough to lash out. He'll let it go for now....But if it happens again all bets are off.

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

Hiei:

For Hiei it is most definitely Shishi that gets to him. I feel like maze castle is a little too early for him to get mad at someone making fun of you. Maybe a comment of 'A foolish sacrifice and yet you're the one who's dead'. But if it's during the dark tournament on the other hand 👀👀👀

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

Kuwabara had just gotten teleported to who knows where. Leaving you, Hiei, and Kurama left to fight. It was just your luck that the die landed on your name. The other once again on Shishi's.

"Oh great, another bumbling idiot. At least this one is easier on the eyes." The demon commented as you made your way onto the arena.

Already Hiei could feel his blood start to boil. Disliking the way Shishi seemed to look you up and down.

"Perhaps defeating you will boost my popularity. Just don't die so quickly. I want to be able to entertain my fans."

You were already getting tired of this guy yapping. And it didn't help that he made your best friend vanish into thin air.

"I wouldn't be so sure about you beating me."

But at your comment, he only grew angry and snapped.

"Are you delusional or just that stupid? You think I would let a mere human beat me? Especially one as klutzy as you."

You were not a fighter to be underestimated. Hiei knew that firsthand. Yet you continued to let that cretin berate you as you fought.

For some reason that made him furious. Wanting to both put him in his place and let you teach that bastard a lesson. He took a step forward. Already deciding that if you did indeed lose this fight, he'd be the one to beat that egotistical demon.

A firm grip on his wrist stopped him from taking another step forward.

"Refrain from doing anything foolish. I know you care for them, but you'd only be damaging their pride more by stepping in." Kurama scolded.

The words temporarily snapping Hiei out of his protective thoughts.

"Tch, I don't care for them."

Hiei is absolutely ready to throw hands on your behalf. Yes you're foolish, but you're his foolish human. The only one allowed to insult you is him.

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

MASTERLIST

[angelsanarchy]

Requested by kappasbbgirl : i totally get it! he deserved a whole episode or honestly a whole movie! i would love desperately one where y/n and him are inseparable everybody knows they belong to each other period point blank….but someone else gets added to the cult “family” , kappa gets attached, and y/n starts feeling jealous abandoned etc and there’s chaos and it’s heart-wrenching ugh i need it 💔

All it took was 3 months with a tiny blonde ditz for him to shift his gaze. They went from worshiping each other every single day to barely seeing one another at dinner. Y/n watched her whisper in his ear as she sat draped across his lap across the bonfire, his hands sliding up and down her thighs and fiddling with the string of her top. Y/n sat sipping a beer, wishing that her glare could pierce his flesh with the hurt he had caused her.

She was his world and he was hers. They were the ones who started this movement against anti-humans. They had killed for one another, they had starved and been brutalized by the justice system all for her to be placed on the outside of his affections for some young idiot who hasn't gone a day in her life to sacrifice anything about her skin care, let alone the cause.

She pretended to be this little lamb who needed Kappa to teach her how to do basic things, it was pathetic.

"Y/n, you look stressed. Would you like me to help you with that?" Epsilon spoke from behind Y/n as he massaged her shoulders. The new contact felt wonderful and pulled a moan from her lips that seemed to drawn Kappa's eyes upward.

"You wanna take your hands off my property Eps..." Kappa said with a laugh. Y/n closed her eyes and reached back to hold Epsilon's hands in place.

"I'm no one's property. Please continue." Y/n stroked his forearm, not paying attention to Kappa's body shifting beneath his new toy.

"Y/n...don't make a scene in front of our new family members." He cleared his throat and Y/n opened her eyes to see the young girl with her hand buried in his hair.

"I see no new family members. The family I have has fought this fight, killed for our cause, and bled for it. What you're referring to on your lap there is a plaything...fresh meat." Y/n could see the girl start to tense.

"You're being rude-" Kappa started to grit his teeth and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Then let me excuse myself before I hurt anyone's feelings. I have something much more interesting I could be doing with my mouth instead." Y/n got up from her seat and Kappa watched her run her hand down Episoln's arm before taking his hand and pulling him behind her. They had barely made it into the trailer before the door swung open and Kappa yanked Epsilon out. Y/n let out a sigh knowing that she had gotten Epsilon in trouble for no reason but before she could walk out and defend him, Kappa came bursting through the door, slamming it shut behind him and backing her into the bedroom until she fumbled backward onto the bed.

"Are you trying to make me kill Epsilon? Is that what you want? Because I will and you will have no one to blame but yourself and your desire to piss me off." Kappa seethed.

"Oh fuck you Kappa! You don't own me and I'm not going to wait around while you fuck the shiny new virgins into the family. I have just as much right to fuck who I want, when I want." Y/n pushed up from the bed and stood in front of him. He walked towards her silently.

"Is that so?" He kept his tone tight as he stared at her.

"Don't stand here and waste my time. Fuck that little toy of yours while you can because she isn't staying long." Y/n demanded.

"Yeah? Why's that?" Kappa asked amused.

"Because if anyone owns someone here, it's me. You think you can fuck me raw and hard, cum in my body and wake up one day to do that with someone else? I don't think so." Y/n shoved him hard before slapping him across the face, grabbing his chin roughly.

"This mouth belongs to me." She growled, taking her free hand and cupping his already hard cock in her hands.

"This cock belongs to me." She moved her hand from his chin and slapped her hand on the skin of his chest that was visible through his shirt.

"This heart is mine. The only way out is for me to consume it." She felt the pain in her teeth as she gritted out her words and Kappa's breathing picked up. When she released him he licked his lips, scanning the trailer for a moment before picking up the dagger that sat on the counter. Y/n wasn't afraid of him even as he walked towards her with the dagger before yanking the rest of his shirt open and holding it out to her.

"I suggest you mark what's yours then." Kappa's hand was unwavering as he held the blade towards her. She took it and shoved him down on the bed, straddling his hips and staying perched atop his cock which was crying to be released from its cage. She kept her eyes locked to his as she carved her name across his skin, letting his warm blood run down his nipple and his moans escape his lips.

When she was done, she wiped the blood from the wound and stuck the fingers into her mouth.

"I am yours...for eternity." Kappa whined leaning up to capture Y/n's mouth with his own.

"Then fuck me like I know you can." Y/n bit his lower lip and Kappa smirked. The clothes they were wearing was practically shredded before used the blood from his chest to stroke his cock. Y/n swatted his hand away from it and lifted her legs to throw over his shoulders. He entered her roughly and his thrusts were sloppy.

"Is that all you have for your soulmate? Fuck me harder Kappa. I am not glass, I will not break." Kappa took her words as a challenge, flipping her over and gripping her hips with a brutal pressure that he knew would bruise. He fucked into her deeply, pulling moans from her mouth as he slapped the flesh of her ass bouncing off of his thighs.

"Oh fuck! FUCK! Don't stop." Y/n pleaded.

"Who do you belong to Y/n? I need to hear it." Kappa asked as he pounded into her pussy, yanking the hair on the back of her head until her throat was exposed.

"Mmm I'm yours Kappa. I'm only yours baby." Y/n cried feeling him pumping his cum into her while he dug his fingernails into her hips. Even when he was spent, he continued to fuck into her, moving his hand to her clit.

"Cum for me my love. Cum on my cock." Kappa ran his hand down Y/n's back and she moved her ass back on him until she felt herself gripping him tightly. He slowed his thrusts and kept himself safely inside of her as he lay down behind her, holding her tightly to his chest.

"You were never second. You are and will always be my queen, my heart and soul." Kappa breathed into her hair as he held her.

"The day you decide otherwise will be your last, Kappa. I will kill you myself if you ever try and find a new queen." Y/n turned her head to look at him and he touched her chin.

"I will put the dagger in your hand myself." He promised his life to her.

[locustonlioden-blog]

Hazbin Hotel Episode Rewrites

Episode 1 (will be doing all of them)

Take out the ��precious daughter” line. This makes no sense seeing how Lilith ditched the family and Lucifer is supposed to be super distant. We get 0 evidence these were involved, doting parents that put a bunch of effort into raising Charlie. Perhaps change it to “And now, its up to their precious daughter” meaning Charlie has taken it upon herself to mend things, instead of making it sound like she’s been coached all along for her role.

Adam and Lute are put off to find out its Charlie meeting with them, not Lucifer as usual. The meeting was arranged because of the very important matter of an exterminator angel being killed for the first time ever, and an important discussion was needed. Adam is much less a 1 dimensional comic relief dude bro.

“So, are you taking over extermination arrangements for now on?”

“Uh, no...actually, it was just kind of out of the blue that he told me about the meeting and asked me to come-”

(seriously, Lucifer supposedly didn’t know about the hotel, or at least he pretended not to, lets just assume he does but didn’t let on to Charlie that he’s watching her)

“Did he tell you why?”

“Ah, no-but, it was really convenient because you see, I have an idea that would actually END the need for exterminations-”

At this point Adam is seriously put off. They just found out demons can kill angels-this has to be a distressing revelation. Now of all times, the guy they have a serious deal with chooses to send someone who wants to talk about ENDING the exterminations? This would almost feel like a threat. So now they want out of the deal? No way! He would feel a need to reassert dominance and get things back under control. Who do these demons think they are? Cue their aggressive mocking and song, followed by throwing Charlie out as they do in the actual episode. He doesn’t even bother to explain why they are moving the extermination up. He’s not going to talk to Charlie. She has not established any sort of repertoire with him that makes him feel as though she is worth having an actual discussion with about a serious matter.

Commercial subplot: Alastor offers a deal to Vaggie in order to help make a successful commercial for Charlie.

“You’re insane, I’d never make any sort of deal with some shitlord

“Hm, such a pity, Charlie will be so let down to see how you fail to manage her project even a day without her. She has to do everything. Why are you even around? Do you really think the princess of hell needs physical protection from a sinner with a spear?”

*sighs* “You making the video for me isnt going to help that.”

“My dear, it wasnt raw power that bent all of Hells sinners to my will. You seem to know me quite well...(this is where we can reintroduce the Alastor lore Vaggie game to Angel Dust in the pilot, instead of waiting until the Mimzy episode to give anything) ...so you see, I have no problems getting things done, and I would be willing to teach you. Imagine what Charlie could achieve, and how much quicker, if she had a competent partner at her side…”

“I’m not making a deal! And you can have fun entertaining yourself with an empty hotel. Nobodys going to want to come to a place a powerful overlord like you so obviously takes as a joke”

“Well, I WILL make a worthy advertizement for the hotel, but I’m going to do it the RIGHT way, and do it for radio!”

She doesn’t make a deal here, but the seeds have now been sown. Her insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness are gnawing. She has little feelings of self worth-would it be so bad to sacrifice herself in a deal with Alastor if it meant assuring Charlie achieves her dream? She is tempted.

Vaggie uses a little cunning here. While Alastor manipulates the inhabitants of the hotel to give fantastic line deliveries using a variety of amusing tactics, Vaggie secretly records with the video camera. At the end of the day, Alastor smugly announces that he has the radio ad all ready. When Charlie returns, Vaggie cuts in and says radio AND television ad! The ad then starts to play and is cut off by the news like in the actual episode. Alastor was initially amused she tried to make a tv ad anyway, but he sees enough to tell that she recorded him making the radio ad. His smile tightens, eyes narrow, and he fades off.

[adaptacy]

You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)

OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!

i love requests ongogngrij

also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)

anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!

this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"

"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.

"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.

"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.

"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.

"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.

Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.

"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.

"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.

"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"

"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.

"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"

Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.

"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.

"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.

It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.

You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.

You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.

With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.

He blinked, remaining silent.

"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"

"Who are you?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"

Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"

"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"

"You like rye whiskey?"

You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."

[smt4flynn]

"i love you" but you scream, and no one hears

Warning: NONCON/DUBCON, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, R18/Explicit. MINORS DNI. Ascended Astarion is the focus of the target here! DEAD DOVE, DON'T EAT.

Note: If you find the above topics uncomfortable, please consider turning away from this ('-')b This was a request! If you ever wanna request me, you can send me an ask on tumblr or just @ me on twitter. It may take me years to do it though!

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It takes you a painfully long time to wake up. The world around you is dark and hazy, worsened when you realise your arms are stuck for some strange reason. You can’t really move them, your body shifting about and realising your legs seem to be stuck too. Everything around you is heady, too much, your tongue like iron in your mouth and you have to focus particularly on it to keep it from rolling out and drooling all over. Your mind is racing everywhere yet your thoughts are sluggish and painstakingly slow.

What is the last thing you remember...?

You remember defeating the Nether Brain, before your feet come to a stark realisation that the floor is tipping sideways and you are plummeting fast. Gale panic screams out a feather fall to keep the crash into the water from murdering your lot, and then you are all violently flailing to the shore. You aren’t a great swimmer and neither is Shadowheart, given her deathly fear of the water, but the onslaught of potentially dying gets the two of you to flail to safety.

Karlach’s scream pierces through your memory – and you recall, well, how Wyll convinces her to escape into Avernus with him, and the two of them are just gone, leaving your life as quickly as they joined it. Astarion stands aside you, staring up at the sky, and for a moment your heart clenches. You look over to Shadowheart and see her being guided along by an equally soaked and greatly amused Jaheira, while Minsc screams something incomprehensible behind her.

Baldur’s Gate is ruined. But still it stands. Even though Wyll and Karlach are gone, having to leave in a sudden emergency, with Lae’zel oscillating between righteous anger at Orpheus having to sacrifice himself or leading the charge against Vlaakith herself, it is Gale who suggests you celebrate. Elfsong still stands, he notes, something tired curling at the corner of his eyes, and Astarion surprisingly agrees.

Perhaps you should have been more scared. He let go of you so quickly.

A door in the distance opens. It creaks slowly, causing your heavy, cotton-filled head to slowly lift to where you think the noise is coming from. It shuts almost inaudibly, though the gentle taps of shoes do not escape your ears. The bed dips slightly from the added weight and a hand cups your cheek so gently it sends knots curling in your stomach and spiders digging into your meat. You can’t even move away, not fast enough, as another hand grabs your wrist and squeezes it hard.

Your arms are stuck. Your arms are stuck together. He tugs you and you feel it scrape against the roughness of rope; sturdy and thick, painfully tight when you move too much, and a familiar little giggle hits your pointed ears.

“To think,” says the devil, tongue curled around the apex of his finely-carved fangs, “to think you would just... expect me to let you go.” his words hover near you, away from you. You are floating somewhere you know nothing about. You can’t move your legs, stuck apart – your mouth moves and all you do is dribble spit and gurgle. Your throat feels so tight and clogged. He hushes you, the little monster who watches you, who watches you reject Bhaal with distant eyes which grow sharp when you deny him.

The hand on your face is still so gentle. It retreats only to bring a handkerchief to wipe your spittle away. Your body is so utterly heavy and your throat is only slowly, slowly, getting everything together. The bed evens out only for it to dip again, even further, when golden-embroidered vampire wraps something around you, forcing it open and yet keeping you mute. Your body is completely at his mercy; his hands cup your cheeks again and he presses his plush, gentle lips to the corner of yours. His fangs scrape against you, almost playful. You can’t even try to shake him off.

“It hurt me.” he says lowly. “To think you only helped me because your little urges took over – but you were still in there, deep down, weren’t you?” he runs his fingers through your hair; you remember he tells you how much he loves it, feeling the strands, twirling them around his index. Pressing kisses to a lock of hair he holds before kissing you. “I never judged you, dearest,” and you know he is right. Even at your worst, he loved you. He takes your hands in his, kisses your fingers, “then you left me behind. Oh, did the rejection of Bhaal embolden you so? I saw in your eyes how much it hurt you to leave me behind, so why don’t I fix your little blunder?”

You try to thrash. The ropes are too well-done; he must have learned, intimately, from when he has to tie you up in the Shadow-Cursed lands. Even if they aren’t, even if they are sloppy, whatever he slips you has you as heavy as lead. You wish you can see him, you are glad you can’t. His hands finally move away from your face to instead trace down your sides – to feel your curves, the way your muscles tense as you try, even a little, to writhe away. Lips press against your neck – to the scarred bites, standing stark and pretty against all your other torture reminders (and the two of you bonded over it, over your tortures, over your hurts), and his teeth tease the healed wound. He can just as easily open those holes up again and drink you up.

This time, you know, if he drains you, that it will not be a revivify scroll that he uses to bring you back to him.

A kiss presses against it – chaste, like it is a treasure to be savoured. You want to scream. Your tongue presses against the fabric he uses to quiet you and you gag. Astarion hushes you. His lips against your skin is so soft, as soft as you remember it to be. His nails are claws as long as a tiefling’s, a byproduct of his ascension. You wear easy-fabric; a dress with no sleeves that makes it to your knees, with a skirt that flares out and makes you feel so pretty.

Now, as he peels the dress up to have access to your legs, to squeeze at your thighs and coo over the cute panties you wore today, you wish you decided against celebrations. “This would have been easier if you didn’t guilt yourself over what you can’t change.” Astarion says, his voice almost... pitying. “You know I love you, so, so terribly, that I would have loved you, adored you; you gave me a gift. I wish I could make you see that.”

You wish you can respond.

“These tadpoles being gone are such a nuisance, I almost miss the little bugger.” his voice is so soft. You don’t know who he is. “I would have flooded you with the sincerity of my love, but even when it was in your head, you rejected all of us when you learned how to control it. How could I make you understand that I love you?” his fingers are on your inner thighs, so close to your crotch.

An index slips between your clothed vulva and he lets out a disappointed sigh at the dryness he feels. “But you were so desperate to try to distance yourself from your Bhaal-influenced decisions, that you didn’t realise you were running away from us.” and even if you want to scream at him, shame does sting you.

You did reject him. But you don’t think it calls for him drugging you for doing something like that. His thumb presses against where your clit is hidden away, rubbing slow circles around it like he used to whenever he initiated touch; he loves, loved, worshipping you, feeling you lose yourself beneath him. Touching him isn’t something he normally wants, but you? Touching you? Feeling you? He loves it. Your body remembers it so well – he loves teasing you, making you lose yourself. For all of your experience in violence, and pain, and agony, and hurt, and hurt, pleasure for the sake of pleasure, not derived from severe instilled sadism, is still so new to you.

A muffled whimper slips from you, eyes wide behind the blindfold, and Astarion coos encouragingly at you. His thumb rubs against your clit, pressing down on it, and you shudder then try to jolt your hips away. You are so groggy – he slips down even further, hand moving aside to try and give his head better space when he presses his mouth against your vaginal lips. He wets the fabric of your panties when he begins dragging his tongue in, pressing in, before his mouth moves up to where your clit – swollen and hard – presses against your wet panties.

You writhe, try to kick your bound legs, your arms tugging painfully against your ropes. You wish – you wish, you wish almost deliriously you just killed Isobel that day, just so that Astarion doesn’t know how to tie you up so well, to keep you pinned down. Let me know when you need to be tied up again, he says lowly, fear hidden behind practised seduction. His fingers hook into the band of your panties, dragging them slowly down to expose your wet vulva – swollen and engorged with arousal, dripping pre all over, and you thrash about as much as you can.

A hand wraps around your throat – it moves too fast for you to even realise it. His fingers barely have to apply pressure before you feel like your neck is about to cave in. His nails scrape against you, scratching against the vampire bites, lining up with where your veins are, thumb stroking across your hidden artery. His grip tightens, only a little, and it feels like your muscle are about to give away, like he is about to crush your throat like a shot glass.

“I’ve been very patient with you, darling,” and still his voice is so deceptively sweet, when did he learn to speak like this? You remember him, Astarion, so nervous still, unable to hide his spite, his bitterness, beneath all of his practised flattery. The intense mockery, the humming promise of violence. This Astarion, who has your life in his deceptively gentle grip, speaks to you with the fluttering sweetness of a lover returned, “but I will not tolerate anymore impertinence from you. I was not going to turn you tonight, but if you do not calm down, I may have to consider it just to get you to stop.”

He squeezes harder and you gurgle behind the gag. Your body trembles as you force yourself to not struggle. He kisses the corner of your lips, as gentle as the first time, pressing another to your chin, and as his fingers peel slowly from your throat you almost sob from relief. He lets you sink into the bed, the bed that you do not realise how plush and comfortable it is, as if trying to drag you in. Comforts surround you, his kisses on you so chaste and loving, even as his claws scrape against your hips, dragging thin lines down your thighs.

Whip marks cover you, faded reminders from your Bhaalist past. You are not what made you. Astarion is what you made him.

“Good little Bhaal-babe,” he coos out at you. You try not to flinch away at his words. Shuffling fabrics greet your ears, before hands grab at your legs to spread them open. You feel so bared open beneath him, your folds still engorged, taken up by the little seductive timbre of his voice; even the display of his power has your body almost instinctively reacting with heat. You’ve been trained for too long to just forget – Astarion loved it. He loved that pain and pleasure are one and the same for you, that you are so desperate to submit to something greater than yourself, that you let him do whatever he wants to you.

Now, you regret having him train you. You love him. You loved him. You love and loved him and will love him for as long as you are alive.

“Oh, your cunt’s so wet,” he coos, and he spreads your folds open for him to show off your desperately wet hole, your body still responding to him, reacting so viscerally, even when tears are pricking behind your blindfold and wetting the fabric, “I know you still wanted me, I don’t even know why I doubted it.” and you aren’t allowed to even parse that statement before you hear him spit on your vulva, his saliva dragging down your hole in a pointed mark of humiliation, and you shake with the indignation of it all.

His thumb presses against your hole, slipping his saliva inside of you, and you hate how your hips jump toward him, how you drip even more openly for him. “So cute.” he hisses through his teeth. He holds you open after, just to watch your hole flutter. This is not the man who loved you. He drags you closer to him, cock head pressing against your unprepared hole, and your muscles grow extremely tense to not thrash away -

Even when the two of you bed regularly, he needs to stretch you open, spending an almost embarrassing amount of time trying to ready him up for you. Here, however, he simply presses against you, laughs at whatever expression you seem to make, and then slams into you without much preamble. You scream, or try to – your voice sounds distant, foreign, even to you, muffled and pathetic. He stretches you wide open, did something inside of you tear? No – no, you are too used to him, even if it hurts that he just slams inside of you.

“Remember this.” he hisses out. “Remember how this feels, remember how I feel!” his grip on you is unrelenting, slamming into you, forcing your tired body to accept him. Your hole stretches, your body wildly writhing, but he doesn’t punish you for trying so desperately to kick him away. He seems to relish in it, given the way he moans from your panic, from your writhing. One hand grabs your thigh harshly, fingers pressing down hard enough to form bruises, and the other -

His thumb rubs circles around your clit – tears sting the corner of your eyes. Your hole flutters, tightening up, and to your horror you’re actually getting close; and it is when he finally unties the gag, briefly stopping his touch on your clit, to give you an actual kiss, full of love and sweetness, that you cum around him. You moan pathetically, mouth feeling painfully dry, and still Astarion keeps his kiss with you.

You don’t even realise when he finally groans and fills you up. Shame and horror have finally made themselves at home in your head.

“I love you.” he whispers. You scream, but nothing really comes out – your throat is dry, clinging to itself like sandpaper. He hushes you, once more. “I love you.” he says. “I love you, dearest, and even if you don’t love me – I’ll make you remember how it felt.”

And you scream again.

But nothing comes out.