#never get rid of the snake eyes though that is NOT allowed

[rystiel]

i like how his eyes just get progressively more human-esque over the years

[randomdragonfires]

If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 | To See You Again

SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.

Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY

WORD COUNT | 2k

Text Divider by @saradika

They had been running for three days now.

Slivers of moonlight pierced through the dense canopy above. The twisted and gnarled branches of trees, like skeletal fingers grasping for the Seven Heavens, cast their eerie shadows across the forest floor. The tangled roots snaked across the damp earth and moss clung to the ancient trunks like a dark shroud.

The air was heavy with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, mingling with the sweet aroma of wildflowers that dared to bloom amidst the darkness. Faint whispers seemed to echo through the tangled undergrowth, as if the very forest itself held secrets long forgotten.

As they ascended the hill, the terrain grew steeper, the path narrow and treacherous. Each step was a struggle against the relentless pull of gravity, the earth slick with dew beneath their feet. Aemond held onto her hand as tightly as she could - she hadn’t allowed him to touch her initially, having been in shock at being abducted from the arms of her betrothed - but there was only so much a defeated, tired princess could do on her own.

She panted from exertion. The blood on her face was dry now – he’d needed to hurt her to get her to comply. She looked at him with all the anger that he knew she was never capable of, and a forgotten corner of his mind yearned for an easier time when she’d held different feelings for him.

In an ideal world, there would have been no war. He could have married her, just as he’d promised in the protected darkness of the nights in hidden chambers and intimate correspondences. They could have been happy.

Though his thirst for vengeance was screaming at him, a small part of his mind wished for a quieter time; a time that would never come.

His family was dead, and he needed her to balance the scales. He owed Helaena that much. He owed Aegon that much. Mother, Daeron, Criston, sweet Jaehaerys, and Maelor - all his kith and kin. He had failed them all.

He would be damned to all Seven Hells before letting their deaths mean nothing.

At the hill's summit, the forest parted, revealing a precipice that loomed over the land below. The distant glimmer of moonlight danced upon the surface of a winding river, its waters black as night. He let go of her, and she fell to her knees, relishing the feeling of a flat surface and slower breaths as she bid her heart to slow down. He watched her ears perk up as she heard the crunch of his boots over the dry leaves, stalking towards her in that catlike stealth that he had taught himself to have.

He took her by surprise as he tightened his arm around her chest and grabbed her by the neck, making her body twitch in fear as she rose involuntarily. At the edge of the abyss, he turned her around to face him as he let the cold steel of his blade kiss her skin and travel over her frayed white dress from neck to navel.

How did we come to this?

She did not recognize the man in front of her.

He was the boy who had brought her books when her brothers teased her to the point of crying; who had kept her company in her grief of being a dragonless Targaryen; who had held her hand and promised that he would marry her; the one who had come rushing to her the night he claimed Vhagar, promising to take her on a ride.

He was the man who had taunted her and her brothers' parentage at a family supper; who had kissed her senseless in a lone passageway the very same night when he found out that Rhaenrya had no intention of letting him have her. He was the man who had killed sweet, mischievous Luke; the one whom she had left behind when she had been sent to the North; the one whom she had hoped would come and take her away, against all odds.

So many memories tied to him, inexplicably. And yet, she did not recognize the man in front of her.

As a boy, he had had such striking eyes - in color, but more so in the volatility of their regard. Always flitting about, looking for things to imbibe, to brand into his memory. His functional eye had grown different since she had last seen him - distant, devoid of the charming curiosity that would shine in his violet orb.

The eye of a war-worn murderer. He had probably brought her here because he wanted to kill her too.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she whispered the words, almost uncertain. The coldness of his Valyrian steel dagger made goosebumps rise up on the planes of her skin, and yet, she surprisingly found that she was scared, not in the least.

He smirked and leaned in close to her, the leather strap of his eyepatch grazing her temple as she let the warmth of his breath bloom over her face. He raised the blade to her neck and teased her, being so bold as to let out a throaty, exhausted laugh that sounded more maniacal than anything else. She shut her eyes closed, hoping that if she could keep her world dark, she could pretend that this was all a nightmare.

She had often dreamt that he would take her away. She had hoped and hoped and hoped, and now that he was here, she couldn’t fathom how wrong she had been to wish for it.

Silly little fool.

“Sharp, sweet niece.”

His tone made her flinch. His voice was rough and predatory - so much so that she couldn’t tell if it was him or the situation itself that made her feel that way. “You’re supposed to be dead. Daemon….”

Her voice was lost in the air as he raised his eyebrow, a menacing smile in place as he pressed the blade into her skin - just enough to make a few blood red spots bloom. “I killed him. He thought he was better than me, the old fool. I stabbed him in his right eye, the very one that I lost. Vengeance, dear niece…” His thumb collected the first drop of blood that dripped from where he had made his mark, “... makes for the sweetest of spoils. And I intend to taste more of this victory…”

It happened on instinct, her reaching out to hold his wrist tight through his shirt. The irony of taking the hand of the man who wanted to hurt her and counting on him to not let her fall was not lost on her; but if she didn’t, she was sure she would faint.

“...With you.”

The last words confused her, having her mind scrabbling to piece the puzzle and figure out his intent. “Me?” She leaned her head back to breathe and put some space between her and his blade, but that only spurned him more as he pulled her to him by the back of her neck.

“Aegon, Helaena, Criston, Jaeherys, Maelor, mother…vengeance for them all. When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him, and then I’ll kill the little boy that you call a King. Take what is rightfully mine and avenge them.”

The Aemond she had known was too calculated, too weary to tell anyone anything at all. But this, this wasn’t her Aemond. This was a different man - a mad killer, a stranger; one that intended to use her in his rage-filled path to regicide and revenge.

When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him. 

She could only think of one man who would come looking for her. Her betrothed, Cregan Stark - the same man who had shown her Northern hospitality and shared his home and hearth so she could be kept safe away from the bloodshed of the war.

And Aemond wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill them all and take the Iron Throne.

“Gods…”

She had always felt compelled to help during the war. She wasn’t a skilled warrior, nor was she a bold woman. Dainty little sweetheart, her mother used to call her. How can I manage to keep you safe and sound?

She had always wanted to help her mother - be a good daughter and play her part in helping her sit the Throne, as was her birthright. When she had been sent to the North as Cregan Stark’s betrothed, Rhaenyra Targaryen had told her that this was her duty, her contribution to the Blacks’ victory.

You will help me win by keeping my mind at ease about you, child, she had said. You will help me win by staying safe and bringing the Northerners’ allegiance to our cause. 

That had been her contribution, but it hadn’t been enough. Daemon, Luke, Jace, Joffrey, Rhaenys… they’re all dead. She had done what she could, and it was not enough.

And now, Aemond wanted to kill sweet Aegon. Her beloved brother, the little one who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would make a fine king, she knew - but not if Aemond was going to lure Cregan out to fight and make him vulnerable to attacks.

She’d be damned to all Seven Hells if she let him win.

He had been observing her, it seemed. As she let her thoughts sweep her away, he had taken to watching her, reminding himself of every inch of her. She raised her hand to his warm dry cheek, bony from what could have only been a lack of proper food. How long has he been staying here, amidst the trees?

“You don’t have to do this, uncle. Let me go now, and it’ll be like it never happened. There’s been enough bloodshed.”

She thought she imagined it, but she knew it was true when she felt his grip on the blade falter for just a moment. She made good on his momentary lapse and kicked his knee to fold under him with all her might. He fell, and she took hurried steps away from him as he grunted in pain.

Her skirts swirled as she turned just slightly, sneaking a peek off the edge of the hill. If she jumped, she would fall into the waters that ran below - but would that be enough? She’d have to die. She had to. She would not let him use her; she would not let him kill them.

This was her contribution to the war. Her deceased mother’s victory lay in her daughter’s ability to keep the rightful king alive. This was her chance, and she was not going to fail her. He stood up with panting breaths, and she looked him in the eye as boldly as she could, knowing very well that she might as well be living her last and final moments.

She had always wanted to fly - and if she wasn’t going to do it now, then when would she?

She closed her eyes and threw herself over the edge, seeing the sky become a fading memory as she made the steep drop. Halfway through, she opened her eyes and saw him leaning over the edge, panicked, watching her free-falling figure from the hilltop as she flew, flew, flew.

She fell into the water, making contact with sharp tree branches and thorns on the way down in her descent. The blood on her face and body mixed with the water that surrounded her, and blood-red ripples muddled her vision as she closed her eyes.

Water filled her nostrils, and her vision went dark in a matter of mere moments.

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A/N: Got so inspired by the S2 poster, I managed to finish this damn thing hehe. This was a lot more fast paced than my usual writing style, and I'd love to hear what you guys think! I've been really out of touch with fic writing, and feedback is always welcome :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

[ellavatorz]

My Beloved || c.b. x reader

prompt: dating Colby has its up and downs, but your love never lessens. and two years down this same path, you’re still absolutely love-struck for each other.

tw/cw: smut, fem!reader, established relationship, semi-sub/dom dynamic, name-calling.

a/n: this is for a lovely anon. thank you for suggesting this prompt for me to write, it was a fun one. I hope you all enjoy it as well.

pic is not mine, found on Pinterest.

*

It wasn’t every day that Colby found himself drowning in his and Sam’s workload. However, it also was uncommon for him to not have something to occupy him.

Today, it just so happens that the virtual meetings he had planned were postponed for a later date, and his editing had taken a shorter time to finish than he anticipated.

And so, with a day’s worth of taxing effort being cut short, Colby treated himself to a bath. After texting you the details of his day’s end, of course.

Even as two years passed, the commitment of settling into a place of your own has remained an unspoken topic. Although it’s definitely doable, that step forward just hasn’t arrived yet.

Which is why you end up driving a few neighborhoods down to Sam, Kat and Colby’s shared home. Having a spare key, you welcome yourself to the upper level of the home and into Colby’s room.

Settling into his bed and under the comfort of his scent, you find yourself grinning at the idea that your presence would be a surprise for your boyfriend. And as if on cue, Colby’s voice can be heard from the bathroom, echoing a song his phone plays.

Soon after the song hums to a stop, Colby is escaping the mist of the warm shower’s humidity with a towel secured around his waist. You quirk a brow at his entrance, noting the manner in which his happy trail peeks out from seam of the towel.

“Well shit, here I was thinking I’d be the surprise but it looks like you beat me to it.”

Colby blanches at the sound of your voice, eyes darting directly to his bed to find you. He grins, eyes crinkling into a pair of half moons. Instantly, his body is gravitating towards you, that same damn smile settling into the quirk of his lips.

“I’m very pleased to see you, baby.” He admits, barely getting a knee through the comforter before you’re stopping him with a hand to his chest.

Confused by the sudden pause, Colby looks for any signs of discomfort in your body language. Once he’s found none, he looks into your eyes with furrowed brows. You smile in return, rubbing the skin of his chest gently.

“I thought you’d be excited to see me, but I didn’t think you’d be that excited.” You say, gesturing with your eyes toward the evident tent beneath the towel.

“Ah,” he chuckles, following your sight to his crotch. He flushed red and suddenly you’re reminded of how much you love to see him flustered. Cute, you think.

“Though I can’t say I’m not in the same boat.” You voice, ridding yourself of the sheets you were just enveloped in. You lead his hand to your lower half, nudging his fingers between your legs.

His jaw slacks at the feeling of your short’s dampness, caressing you gently as if unsure.

“Fuck,” he exhales and sits himself on the edge of the bed, hand not once disturbed from its place in between your legs. “I didn’t know I had that kind of power over you.”

“Oh please. You can’t possibly think that by standing there, looking as virile as you do with hardly any fabric on you, I won’t drop everything I’m doing just to claim what’s mine now, do you?”

You answer hastily. Gaining confidence with the sudden adrenaline rush, you taken it upon yourself to tug him free of the towel; allowing it to plop onto the ground beside the bed.

“You know what you’re doing. So let me give it to you.” You continue, boring your gaze straight into his eyes.

“And what’s that?” He quips, throat bobbing with the sultriness in his voice. He leans further into your space, snaking his free hand around your throat.

“Everything and anything you want it to be. So tell me, my pretty boy.. how do you want me?”

Without missing a beat, he’s hovering over you and working his way down your neck; trailing both saliva and welts as he reaches your clothed breasts.

Irritated with the sudden interruption, he rocks his hips against your shorts as he begins to remove your top. Growling at the stubborn fabric, he decides against undoing the clasp, and instead tearing through what he could to get to you.

You make an effort to scold him for mindlessly shredding your belongings but your words fall short when his mouth has attached itself to your breast.

Nipping at the perks of your chest, Colby hums in content upon hearing your delicate moans.

“Fuck, Colby, please—“ you whimper, feeling his growth camber against the exposure of your thigh.

“Please? And here I thought you’d own up to your word and let me have you however I wanted.” He retorts while gripping your hips with both hands, squeezing with vigor.

A bashful squeak replaces your response as he draws you in by the chin, reaching a hand behind your the arch of your back to stabilize you.

“And I want you miserable.” He concludes just before shoving you back into the mattress. With a staggered huff, you begin to chew at your bottom lip with anticipation, knowing damn well this could go one of two ways;

He could have you writhing in pleasure as he fucks into you, blinded by his quirk for pleasing you before himself. OR he could play by his own game and torment you until satisfied.

You hope for the latter.

“On your knees.” He orders, tugging your shorts past your legs, panties slipping off along with them. Rather than playing a bratty role, you follow as told.

Sloping into a downward angle with your ass in the air, you irrationally begin swaying your hips in a taunting manner.

Before you have time to comprehend what’s happening, your skin is left stinging in affect of the reddened hand print Colby has left. Mounting himself over your spine, he begins working his fingers through the folds of your cunt.

Heaving a pitched gasp, you lean forward out of reflex. Clearly, Colby has had enough of your antics as he responds by entangling his hand in your hair, pulling at the roots of your scalp until there’s tears filling your eyes.

A dazed moan rests in the air, but you’re far too gone to identify who’s it was. Then, Colby’s voice is echoing in your ear, breath whispering beyond the shell to where you can feel the stubble on his chin rub against your cheek.

“You’re such a sloppy little shit. Look at how much of a mess you’re making in my bed. And just off of my fingers?” He tantalizes in an ever so cocky manner. He feigns a laugh before removing his fingers from your heat and bringing them to your face.

With the grip on your hair, he tilts your head in his direction and uptakes the lewd task of lapping away at his fingers; tasting you.

“So messy. Making me clean up after you? Hah.” He chuckles, his eyes glazed over with a rawness of libido. Once he’s finished with his little show, he’s releasing his hold on your hair and returning you into a lying position— where he can see you and vice versa.

You aimlessly reach for him and he naturally hovers toward you, crowding into you to presses a slew of passionate, slow and hard kisses to your mouth.

“Fuck me, please. Please, Colby? Make me yours, please.” You whine, hands cupping his face. Embracing one of your hands in his, Colby allows his alter ego to falter for a moment to smile at you.

“With pleasure, my love. You’re always mine.” He counters just before aligning himself with your entrance. Your chest rises and falls with the feeling of your heat being filled, tightly compressing and decompressing with a pulse of its own.

Colby’s moans echo your own, parroting your noises here and there. The head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot, creating stars to appear before your eyes. Again, you reach for your boyfriend and he responds by bringing one hand to your cheek, cupping it gently as he kisses you with an equal amount of delicacy.

After a few more ragged thrusts, you feel yourself reach your climax in unison with Colby. Riding out the remainder of your highs, you breathe heavily and manage to rasp a small “fine,” when Colby searches for your awareness and well being.

Collapsing beside you, Colby tugs the covers over your recovering form before trailing light pecks over your shoulder. Although you’re too exhausted to reciprocate them, you smile and thank him before he’s moving again.

Returning from the bathroom with a damp towel in hand, he begins the task of aftercare for the both of you. When he’s finished, and just before he’s making a move to toss the towel into the laundry bin, you wrap a hand around his wrist, halting his movements.

He peers down at you with a smile on his face. You return it, despite it forming a little lopsided.

“I love you.” You murmur, shutting your eyes. There’s a soft peck placed in your forehead, his woodsy sent envelopes you.

“I love you too.” He replies. “So much.”

[smallestapplin]

I won't leave

Somewhat based in castlevania sotn, as it's implied Alucard has ptsd from his mother's death.

Please note my requests are closed, but I'm always happy to chat! (Note this has been queued.)

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It's a known fact the world is dangerous, filled with monsters who wish you dead in some way shape or form, wheather those monster be truely as their namesake or human like you.

But you swore to help the innocent, it's what Alucard loved most about you.

You were selfless, compassionate, witty and able to banter with him easily.

But he loves those late nights with you at his side, laughing about something stupid, or just whispering your love for one another. He never thought he'd allow himself to love, he's a monster just like his father, and he can't help but carry that insecurity with him after everything he's done.

Yet your touch and words never fail to break through the walls he carefully built for centuries.

He fights tirelessly to protect you and fight off the creatures of the night, nothing ever phasing him or making his stoic expression break in these moments. You are his first priority, your safety is all he cares about and keeps him going in his most heated battles.

Even so you fight right along side him with ease, both of you working in tandum as if you have all your lives. You always are there to help comfort him, mainly after that battle with that succubus who cruelly took the form of his mother in her last moments.

It's a topic you don't bring up, never wanting to pasture him about it, but you happily listen to him as he tells you stories of her. He just knows his mother would've loved you, he can almost imagine bringing you home and his mom adopting you as her own.

Maybe in another world he'd get that bliss.

Maybe in another world he's family was still together and he could've introduced you to them.

That's not this world or this life though.

He knows deep down had it not been for his mother's last words he would've joined his father in the destruction of humanity.

But you keep those thoughts from forming.

As had he done so, he would've never met you, his sweet darling.

Maybe that's why the large bonfire was making his head swim.

laughater from the newly saved town had been drowned out.

As the blaze grew fire so did his heart rate. Everything feels too hot, why can't he breathe? Screams ring in his ears, screams he can never get rid of.

You look to your lover, ready to ask if he wanted a drink until you saw hos still he was.

"Alucard?" You ask, your voice low as to not draw any attention.

His chest was barely moving, merely taking short quick breaths. His eyes are wide, filling with tears that reflect that amber glow from the fire. You act fast, instantly at his side and tentivly touching his back to rub slow circles.

"Adrian, Adrian look at me. Shhh it's okay. Sweetheart I need you to look at me."

You aren't sure how long you stood there calling for him before he gasps, taking a large gulp of air, panting as he blinks rapidly, his golden eyes snapping towards you with tears screaming down his face.

"Shh shh it's okay. Come on." You move your hand to his lower back and gently guide him away from the towns bonfire.

Their cheering grows quieter the further you two move away, before finding a private place for him to sit. When he sits on a bench he's grabbing your hands, keeping you in front of him as he sobs into your stomach.

You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, gently shushing him and telling him to let it all out. You run your fingers through his hair, tenderly scratching his scalp to comfort him.

"I'm- I'm sorry-!"

"You have nothing to apologize for, you've done nothing wrong."

You've never seen him cry, Alucard is always sure to keep himself in check,but you're not about to let him feel bad for this. He only cries harder at your words, his arms coiling around your waist, tight like a snake.

He can't let you go, he can't lose you too!

He fears if he lets go you'll disappear, consumed by the very blaze that took his mother.

You already have an idea on what happened,and you're not about to blame him for it as it's such a raw memory for him.

You'll stay with him as long as he needs, letting him sob into your shirt until he tires himself out.

[fruitsoxs]

disgustingly beautiful

pairing(s): knives x (AFAB)reader warnings: smut, !NSFW MINORS DNI!, sex, fingering, knife play, degradation summary; knives hates the way he feels about you word count: 1.5k notes; i have no explanation for this one

He drags the sharp edges of his blades down your arm slowly. He’s not sure why he’s so gentle with you, when he could easily break the skin and let you bleed out on the floor. He could  kill you in an instant. Knives' eyes snap upward, locking onto yours. He can see the lack of fear in your eyes as he waves around his blades. You’re so certain that he would never hurt you.

It pisses Knives off endlessly that you’re right. He craves the destruction of all humans. He wants to see them burn. If this were some other pitiful human, they would be dead in an instant. They would be gone before they could even approach him. You’re not some other human though. And, for some reason, he has a soft spot for you.

He brings his blades up, past your shoulder and to your neck. He keeps the edge there for a second, before using it to lift your chin up. His eyes flicker to your lips. He observes every small movement you make, every gulp you take. “So…disgusting.” he growls, trying to convince himself of your faults. It would be easier if you were like every other human. If you were disgusting, and beyond saving. 

It sickens him how he can so easily fall for your smile. 

What makes you so different from everyone else on this planet? Why do you make him feel so soft? He truly despises it. Knives wishes he could get rid of you once and for all. He hates these feelings that only you can make him feel. 

He growls and lets his blades fall, before crashing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. His lips seem to take over yours. He bites at your bottom lip, prying it open so he can shove his tongue inside. He swirls his tongue around, licking up every noise you make. The more you moan, the more intense the kiss gets. The kiss is demanding, and almost violent. When he pulls away, your lips are already red and swollen.

“Truly disgusting.” he says again, wiping the spit from his lip. He immediately dives back in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you close. His grip is bruising as your body is pressed flush against his. He immediately probes your mouth with his tongue again, swirling it around yours. 

Why does he like this? Why does the thought of bending you over make him feel so fuzzy inside. He snakes a hand up your back and grips onto your hair, pulling your head back. You let out a soft whimper. He drinks in the noise, pulling your hair tighter to get more out of you. 

With his lips still on yours, he slowly pushes you back towards the table behind you. You hit the edge and fall over. “A-Ah!” but before you can crash against the cold metal, Knives makes sure to lower you slowly. He doesn’t want your frail body to get too hurt. His mouth is on yours again, as he leans over your body, trailing kisses and bites down your neck. 

He digs his teeth into the skin on your shoulder, biting roughly, then licking the new wound clean. When he pulls away, he’s got a certain look in his eyes. A possessiveness that he only allows you to see. He admires the mark, before he works on getting your clothing off.

Knives starts to rip your clothing off, starting with your top. You lift your torso up a bit, allowing him to pull it off. He moves down to your bottoms, tearing them off your body as quickly as he can. His hands find their way to your thigh and squeeze the skin. He slowly rubs them up higher, brushing against your clothed folds for a second.

“So wet already.” 

With one swoop he cuts through your underwear, admiring the view of your wet pussy. He slides his fingers through the folds, gathering up all the juices. His face remains emotionless, but he’s definitely excited about this little endeavor. His cock is already painfully hard and throbbing. You, almost shy to his attention, try to close your legs and hide yourself away. He sighs and reaches over with his blade tendrils, pulling your legs up.

He’s careful not to cut you, but you can’t fault him if the blades scratch you a tiny bit. He’s simply too focused on the task at hand to pay too much attention to that part. 

He rubs his finger against you again, scoring the most delicious noises. He bites back a smirk as he watches you squirm from his simple touch, before he begins to rub at that sensitive bud gently. Your back immediately arches, a loud moan ripping through your throat. “Good.” Knives mumbles, putting more pressure on your clit. “I want to hear you.” he demands. He rubs his fingers in circles, drawing out loud moans. Unable to move while he holds you down, you are left a whimpering mess.

With his other hand, he inserts a finger. Your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open. He works you open, pushing his finger in and out before he adds another. 

“Oh. Oh Knives- Oh God-” 

He can feel you clench around his fingers. The smirk finally stretches across his lips as he holds you down and fucks you with his fingers. “What is it? Are you going to cum?” he asks curling his fingers inside  you while his other hand continues to rub your clit. 

“Please-” you beg him.

He lets out a small “Hm.” before deciding that he could allow you to get what you want. “Fine.” he grumbles. You cum on cue, your body shaking as you tighten around his fingers. He groans slightly as he works you through your orgasm. He stays silent, watching you close your eyes shut, screaming out his name.

All that, just for his fingers. So pitiful.

He rubs his clothed dick against your dripping pussy, his cold eyes never leaving yours. He can’t believe that such a creature can get him so worked up. He cannot stand how much he craves you. Every time he sits down to please himself, all he can see is your eyes. You have ruined him, and he will never forgive you.

In a moment his cock is free, pressed against your entrance. Your eyes are wide again, as you try to look down at what he is doing. Knives huffs and shoves his thumb under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Look. At. Me.” he demands. 

You whimper as he slowly slides his dick inside of you. He can’t believe how good you feel. So warm and tight around him. It was like you were made to be his little toy. Knives slides himself all the way in as slowly as he can. He gives you just a moment to adjust to his size, before he starts moving.

He slowly pulls out, admiring the way his cock glistens with you. He then snaps his hips against yours, shoving it back inside you roughly. “Oh!” you yell out. He fucks you hard, and fast. It’s almost deadly. He makes no noises besides the occasional grunt.

No, he wants to hear every little noise you make. He wants to listen to the sound of his skin slapping against yours. He ends up closing his eyes as the sounds mix together- creating a song more beautiful than he could ever play. 

He’ll never get over how amazing this feels. How perfect you are. Although when he is done he may feel shame for fucking the thing he hates, he can’t help but keep coming back to you. He slams his dick inside of you, making your eyes roll back. He keeps his pace, never getting tired of how lulled out he can make you.

He knows you’re close. He wonders what he can say to make you go over the edge. 

He grits his teeth, then lets out a dry chuckle. “Look at you.” he mumbles, continuing to fuck you. “You need me so bad.” he lets his blades tighten around your legs so you can’t move and inch. “I want you to remember this moment forever, human. You are mine.”  He growls and slams against you. 

You let out a cry, squeezing him awfully tight as you cum on his cock. Reduced to nothing but a blabbering, incoherent mess you call out his name over and over. He slams against you a few more times, before he pulls out and spills his seed all over your stomach. 

He drops you against the table, watching as your body goes slack. He eyes his work, before turning around. “Clean this mess up.” he demands before he walks away.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 17: “Leave me alone”

Read it on Ao3

- Fierce Deity & Mask

- Summary: Fierce cares for a wounded Mask

CW for blood and injury

———————————-

Link sits on the outskirts of the battlefield.

Fierce can see him from where he stands, a small, hunched figure silhouetted against a hazy blue sky and the remnant wisps of smoke. He starts toward him at a brisk pace, picking his way around the remaining bodies and rubble. He cannot help but wrinkle his nose at the conglomeration of unpleasant smells.

War god though he may be, he has never truly enjoyed conflict. At times it is necessary. But never is it enjoyable. The destruction it brings makes him ill.

Especially now, as he comes closer to the child and gains a better look at his injuries. He is bleeding. The emerald sleeve of his tunic has turned dark with the gory substance. A gash snakes its way from the very base of his neck down through his shoulder to end at his bicep. Its angry edges are coated in dirt and soot.

There is bruising too, peppering his arms and legs. And when he raises his head, Fierce can see that one of his eyes is swollen shut.

“Little one.”

He squats down, feeling abnormally large next to this tiny Hylian he has come to think of almost as his own child. Link looks up at him and sniffles. He raises a trembling hand, swiping viciously at the tears carving trails through the blood and dirt coating his face.

“Where’s the captain?”

There is anger in his voice, but Fierce disregards it. He has known this little hero for years now. He can tell quite easily when his anger is merely a front.

“He is safe.”

He reaches out toward Link’s injured arm. Link backs away.

“You are badly injured. Allow me to help you.”

Link shakes his head, cap flopping, bangs falling into his face. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your help.” There is a pause, then, “and he doesn’t either.”

Fierce blinks.

Ah, so that is what this is about.

Though the captain had willingly given himself over to the Deity’s strength, Fierce should have expected this to be a struggle. After all, Link does not know the promise he had made to the older hero. And his fear of the mask has not yet vanished.

With good reason, Fierce thinks, bitterly. Every time the hero uses it, his immense power takes its toll. It is a price he wishes he could rid him of.

“He tasked me with protecting you when he could not,” he says, solemnly. “Helping you would be fulfilling my oath to him.”

Link’s head jerks upward. More tears stream down his cheeks.

“You wanna help me? Let him go!” A sob tears through him and he clutches at his arm. Crimson runs down his fingers. “Let my brother go.”

Fierce raises his hands, instinct crying out that he comfort the broken child before him. But when Link curls in on himself further, he stops short of touching the hero. With his strength he could simply scoop him up and carry him away. He holds back, however. He does not wish to force his way unless absolutely necessary. So, they simply hover uselessly in the space between him and Link.

“Allow me to tend to your wounds and get you to safety. Then, I will release the captain.”

Link hiccups, his grip on his arm tightening, and finally, Fierce reaches out. Slowly, he pries the tiny fingers away from the wound. The captain had had bandages in his pouch and though he had been forced to use some for himself, there is still an ample supply left over. He begins winding them around Link’s arm with as much care as his war-calloused hands can manage.

“You’re hurting him.”

He doesn’t pause in his work, but he does look up from it for just long enough to see the broken expression on Link’s face.

“No, I am not. The captain gave himself willingly. As you know, that is the least painful way to utilize my power. He is not fighting. He is at rest.”

Another hiccuped-sob shakes the hero.

“Why? Why’d he put you on?”

Fierce tears off the remaining bandages and ties them tightly. It is not a perfect job, but it will hold for long enough to get him back to camp. They can take proper care of him there.

“Out of necessity. He needed to win this battle and care for the wounded. He could not do so with the strength he currently possessed.”

Link hands curl into fists. “That idiot. I told him never to wear it. I told him it was dangerous. I told him…” His words dissolve into another sob.

Fierce rests a hand on Link’s uninjured shoulder and the hero looks up at him, emotions swirling in his eyes.

“I promise you, little one, I will release him once you are safe. I have no wish to harm the captain…or you.”

He holds his gaze for a moment more, then turns to place the bandages back into the captain’s pouch. When he reaches for Link, the hero doesn’t struggle. And when he scoops him into his arms, he slumps against him with a trembling sigh.

Whether he is simply too weak and tired to fight any longer, or he has decided the Deity’s words are trustworthy, Fierce doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter to him, either way. His responsibility is getting Link to safety.

“The captain knew that you would not approve of his use of the mask, you know,” he says, once Link is securely in his hold and he has started his journey back. Link blinks, slowly, like one of the puppies they saw so often in Termina, exhausted after a day of running, yet still fighting sleep. “But you are precious to him. No sacrifice is too large if it ensures that you are safe.”

Tears well in Link’s eyes once more and he turns his face away.

“Idiot,” he mumbles again.

But there is something in his voice that Fierce cannot identify. Something almost like the feeling of sunshine trying to break through the clouds. It seems, sharing the captain’s sentiments was the right choice.

Humans really are such curious beings, he thinks as he walks back toward camp with the child curled in his arms. They care and yet, see fit to pretend that they do not.

“Fierce?” The voice is small, hesitant.

“Yes, little one?”

“You really are gonna let him out, right?”

Fierce smiles, grimly. So trust is still a ways away, then. No matter. He will repeat his promise however many times is necessary to soothe Link's fears. Someday, perhaps the hero will know that he wishes no harm upon him.

“I give you my word.”

Link sighs. His hand is curled around his tunic sleeve, Fierce notices now. The realization ignites a curious warmth within him.

“‘K,” he whispers and closes his eyes.

[lucigoo]

#269 - Living Weapon @flashfictionfridayofficial

Pairing - Siirus/Remus

Warnings - murder (but we arent sad about it!)

Words - 1018

Summary - Sirius and Remus are about to pay Dumbledore a visit.

They gave their entire lives and the family they clawed together for themselves up for him and his war. That will NOT be Harry's fate!

A03 link here

Sirius crept through the halls of Hogwarts until he meet up with Remus outside of Dumbledore’s office.

They had cast notice-me-not charms and Moffitt so they could whisper without being caught.

“Is he in there?”

“It says so,” Remus said as he checked on the map.

Without thinking, both sets of eyes zoomed to Gryffindor Tower, where they checked Harry was safely tucked in his dorm.

“We really doing this Pads?”

“What choice do we have? You know he won’t stop. He never has. He thinks his is the only way,” Sirius said with a growl.

“Alright love. Just ... this will change everything.”

“Good! I will NOT allow him to become another casualty like we were,” Sirius said as he gave Remus a quick kiss on the lips, lingering there until they had to pull away. “Come on Moony,” he said with a sad sigh before straightening his spine, throwing his head back and marching into Dumbledore’s office, Remus casting privacy spells behind them.

“Boys,” Dumbledore said. Looking as though he had expected them. “What can I do for you?” He asked with that damnable twinkle in his eyes.

Remus had to place a restraining hand on Sirius’ shoulder so he didn’t fly across the room and claw Dumbledore’s eyes out.

“You know why we’re here,” Sirius snarled.

“I assume it has something to do with Harry, no?” Dumbledore said, the picture of calm.

“Of course it’s to do with Harry. What other reason would I have to speak to you?”

“Sirius ...”

“Don’t Sirius me Dumbledore. I’m not your boy any more. I should never have been. You left me to rot. The greatest wizard in the world and you left me to rot, and you ignored Remus until you needed him and you SENT HARRY TO THE MERLIN DAMNED DURSELYS!” Sirius screamed at the man. Panting from the rage he had just unleashed.

“There are reasons Sirius. There have always been reasons. Everything I do has always been for the gre ...”

“The greater good Dumbledore?” Remus asked, venom in his voice. “You know what I found out? I found out he lived in a fucking cupboard and you knew it because it was in his first letter. A cupboard. That boy was treated worse than a house-elf and you knew.”

“Remus, you must understand what we are facing,” Dumbledore said, trying to placate the two men before him.

“Oh, we know. Here,” Sirius said as he threw Ravenclaw’s diadem on Dumbledore’s desk. “That’s the last one. The diary is gone, the cup, the locket, the ring and the diadem. That’s all of them apart from the snake and Harry right?" Sirius asked, glaring at Dumbledore who now looked at them in shock.

“How ....”

“What? Like it was difficult. Lily was amazing, and she protected that boy with everything she had, but that doesn’t mean that Harry should see into Voldemort’s head. That’s dark magic. And when your are looking into dark magic, you find a wizard raised in a dark family with the most extensive library there is. And guess who we have?” Remus said with a raised eyebrow.

“You know about the horcrux’s? Harry?”

“It isn’t difficult to figure out once you have one of the horcrux’s. We had one. We found the others and Bill Weasley is working with Gringott’s to figure out how to get rid of the one in Harry. He will not face his parents’ murderer because you won’t use the resources at your disposal, Dumbledore!” Sirius shouted. Remus’s hand was the only thing restraining him.

“Sirius, my boy ...”

“He is not your boy. None of us should have been. We were children you moulded to fight a war. You should have asked other adults to fight for you. But you didn’t Dumbledore. You used a child army, and you have tried to make Harry the same. He will not die on our watch and he will not become anymore of a murderer than you have already made him!” Remus bit out, pulling Sirius closer.

“I have never made Harry into a murderer. I am not sure what you mean.”

“Of course not. You also know nothing about a door licked with alohamora, which they are taught in their third lesson. You know nothing about a giant fucking snake, or letting dementors lose in the school. And don’t get me started on the Triwizard tournament. You didn’t notice your lifelong friend wasn’t himself? Yeah, ok,” Remus said rolling his eyes, trying not to scream at Dumbledore.

“Well, it seems we are at an impasse, men. I have only ever tried to do what’s right for the greater good. And I shall continue to do so,” Dumbledore declared loftily.

“We know,” Remus said with a sad sigh. “We thought you were great. We worshipped you, trusted you. And I’m sure you cared, but never enough about us as people as opposed to pawns.” Remus then turned from Dumbledore and started walking towards the door.

“Remus, my boy ...” Dumbledore said, trying to placate him.

He hadn’t realised that Sirius had crept up beside him. “He isn’t your boy. He was never your boy. He should never have had to be grateful to be given an education or accepted. Harry will not beg for scraps of affection from you because you isolated him.”

“Sirius, you need to unde ...”

Dumbledore never got to finish his sentence. Sirius stepped over his dead body and grabbed Remus’s hand as they walked out of the headmaster’s office.

They had to get out unseen, which was easy enough for them. Harry would not be a pawn for Dumbledore’s chess board. He may have tried to raise him as a living weapon, but Sirius and Remus were going to show him he was more than that. They were going to show him he was worthy of love and worth the adults around him protecting him for once.

“Moony ...”

Remus grabbed him and pulled him in tight. “It’s alright love, we’re doing this for Harry.”

And with that they walked out of Hogwarts, ready to do whatever it took for their boy!

[animeprincessforever]

Chuuya X Reader

Snow White Story

(Whole Collection!!! No Chapters Cause I’m Lazy)

What you wear

(www.deviantart.com/annetheartist/art/Cinderella-Raggy-Dress-331978122)

YOUR POV:  

I am (Y/n) and I live in a small kingdom called Suribachi City. My step mother Isabella who is now the queen after my father passed away. My step mother maid me do chores but it never bothered me. One day I was out and doves came flying towards me as I sang into the wishing well. “I’m wishing (I’m wishing) for the one I love. To find me (to find me) today (today)” as I was distracted singing a man appeared next to me and grabbed my hand and started to sing with me till I jumped and ran into the castle. I looked how from the balcony and the man took his hat off and bowed and said “my name is Chuuya Nakahara” I was gonna tell him my name till I heard my name being called out in a angry tone by my step mother. I bowed and said “I got to go sorry.” I ran to my step mother and she said “you brat! I hate you! Go to your room you are not allowed to eat!” I sighed and went to my room. 

Your room:

(aminoapps.com/c/diaboliklover666/page/chat-thread/deg-kou-mukamis-bedroom-deg/q3lB_n2tKsj3DklZMQoX4E42mqgrxz7GE)

 ‘Here I go again I guess I’ll read’ I thought. I lied down and started to read as I slowly drifted to sleep. 

Isabella Pov:

“UGH I HATE THAT BRAT!” She screamed then looked at the mirror and said “Mirror Mirror On The Wall Who Is The Fairest Of Then All!” The mirror said “(Y/n)” “WHAT?!?!” Isabella was hysterical “HOW IS SHE? THAT FILTH!” The mirror interrupted and said “a maiden of natural beauty, fairness, love, caring, and affectionate. Thats what makes one the most fairest of them all.” ‘I have to get rid of her’ I thought.

Isabella POV: 

I decided to summon the number one hit man to kill that girl. Surely once she is gone I will be the fairest of them all just as god attended.

Your POV: 

I was singing with a beautiful baby blue bird and helped him go to his nest. All the sudden I turned around and saw a man with a knife. I screamed and fell to the ground and closed my eyes. The man looked at me and said “I’m sorry. I can’t kill you. The queen wants you dead. GO! RUN! And DO NOT look back!” I ran as fast as I could and started to cry as I went deep into the forest. However I got lost in a scary place. I screamed as I saw what appeared to be alligators, demons, and snakes. I collapsed and sobbed till I heard the sound of birds and I looked around. There were birds, bunnies, deer, squirrels, and a turtle. I smiled and sniffled and said “oh. It’s just you guys” I sighed. “Where am I going to go now?” The birds chirped and the animals guided me to a cottage.

The cottage:

(www.arts.gov/stories/blog/2017/cottage-ones-own)

“Wow, this place is a mess. I should clean up. Maybe if I do they’ll let me stay!” I said as I looked around and the animals looked at me and then I said “well let’s get cleaning!”

Your POV:

I just finished cleaning and yawned ‘I need to get some rest’ I thought so I went up to the room and lied down and fell asleep.

-MEANWHILE AT THE MINESHAFT-

7 people working by the names of 

Kenji Miyazawa, Doppo Kunikida, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Ranpo Edogawa, Gin Akutagawa, Atsushi Nakajima, and Dazai Osamu. As they finished up humming a tune Dazai locked up. “Ugh why can’t I die by suicide with a beautiful woman” “UGH. Enough with that” Kunikida replied. Ranpo said “let’s just go home I’m tired and hungry.

-BACK TO YOU-

I was fast asleep till memories came flooding back from when I was a little girl. My mother passed away having me. My father raised me till I was 4. He met that women Isabella. She seemed nice at first. We’d play hide n seek, tag, dolls, and sing. At the age of 15 my father took ill and passed away leaving me with my step mother. That’s when things changed. She started to abuse me mentally and physically. Called me filth, garbage, and a waste of space. But I didn’t let it bring me down I was still a princess. Even though she moved me down to a servant I didn’t let it get to me. Cleaning was relaxing and fun to me. I’ll sing and clean. It was my therapy.

-BACK TO THE MINORS-

As they approached the house Gin gasped and said “someone’s been in the house the door is unlocked and the house is clean.” Kenji said “Oh but the house is nice and shiny now!” Ryūnosuke said “idiot that person or thing could still be here.” Atsushi said “don’t be mean! But someone should check the bedrooms” everyone looked at Dazai and Dazai says “why is everyone looking at me?!?!” Kunikida said “your the suicidal maniac so it makes since that you do it.” Dazai said “fine.” And with that being said and done Dazai made his way to the room.

DAZAI’S POV:

I made my way up the stairs. ‘’Maybe today will be the day I die’ I thought. As I opened the door I saw a woman. ‘She is Beautiful! Perhaps she is destined to do a double suicide and be my love’ I thought.

BACK TO YOUR POV:

I woke up and saw a man wrapped in bandages and a smirk on his face. I quickly got up and bowed “I’m so sorry to intrude!” The man looked at me and grabbed my hands and said “my lady you’re so beautiful! Perhaps you’d like to be my love and com-“ 5 more men and a young woman came up the stairs. And one with glasses interrupted and said “Dazai leave this young lady alone.” Then a boy with blonde hair walked up to me with blue overalls and said “wow you’re so pretty!” I stuttered and thanked him. I quickly said “I am so sorry to intruded on all of you. My name is (Y/n). You see some man was going to kill me and told me to run away from my home. I’m so sorry.” Then they introduced theirselves and the one called Atsushi said “she should stay! After all she has no were to go.” The man named Ryūnosuke said “we don’t even know this woman and yet we are going to let her move in with us?” Then Gin said “she cleaned the cottage for us and made everything look shiny. I think we should let her stay!” Dazai, Kenji, Kunikida, Randpo, Atsushi, and Gin said they were all in agreement much to Ryūnosuke’s dismay. “REALLY?!?! Oh my gosh thank you all so much! I promise to cook for all of you everyday and clean the cottage as some sort of payment!” 

The boy named Dazai looked at me and grabbed my hands.

like this : shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Dazai_x_Waitress

And said “so let me continue my question! Would yo-“ he was interrupted by Kunikida who grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and said “ENOUGH WITH THE SUICIDE!” I giggled and said “I’m flattered but I think I’ll take a pass because I believe I already have that special someone that came from a wish. Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll ever see him again.” Dazai looked at me and said “you have me I’m always here!” I giggled and said “thank you that is super kind of you!” Kunikida said “I’ll prepare a bed for you so you won’t sleep on the floor.” I quickly replied “it’s okay no need to go through all the trouble I’m fine with the floor!” Kenji looked at me with sparkling eyes and said “nonsense you’re a guest!” Dazai smirked and said “she can sleep in my bed~”  Kunikida snapped and said “ENOUGH!” I giggled as I got ready to go bed with the 7 nice people I now live with. I went on the couch and fell asleep. ‘I think I’ll like it here. But that man with ginger hair and a fedora I couldn’t help but fall in love with him’ I though as I slowly drifted into deep sleep.

ISABELLA’S POV:

At last that brat is out of the way. I laughed as I walked to my mirror. “Mirror mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” The mirror looked at me and said “(Y/n)” “WHAT?!?! that little brat was supposed to be dead! Where is she?!?!” The mirror said “she is deep in the forest in a cottage with 6 men and a woman.” I looked at the mirror and snarled “so the hit man failed? Hm. I guess I’m going to have to take care of things myself!” I rushed down into my office and decided to get ‘THE BOOK’ that’s what I need! ‘THE BOOK’ has a list of magical dark spells. Perhaps I should make little miss perfect a visit and give her a deadly surprise! I started to laugh hysterically. “THE BRAT WILL SURELY NOT SEE WHATS COMING!” 

I ushered to the potions and made one to change the way I looked and I mad a special candy apple just for her. However my spell turned me into a wretched old woman. “Ugh! The price I have to pay to get rid of one annoying brat!” I got ready and decided to make my way over to that little brat”

YOUR POV:

I was singing while all the minors were at the mine shaft. “Whistle while you work doo doo doo doo doo doo.” I sung as I cleaned. Till I heard a knock at the door. ‘I wonder who that could be?’ I wondered as I went to the door and opened it. There stood a little old woman. “Hello dear would you like a candy apple?” She said. I looked at her and smiled. “How sweet. Thank you so much. How much do you need for it?” The little old woman said “it’s for free my dear. All hand made and made with love from just an old lady such as myself doing a good deed.” She smiled and I gave her one back. “Thank you!” When I was about to close the door she said “wait! Eat it!” “I don’t wanna spill my dinner” I replied. “Please give it a try I want to know what you think.” She said I smiled and took a bite. When I took a bite of the candy apple I felt weird. I looked at the woman and she started to laugh as things went black for me. 

Isabella’s POV:

At last she is gone! I am finally free! I am the fairest of them all! No one will ever get in my way.

No Ones POV:

When the minors got home they saw. (Y/n) on the ground. Kenji  said “OH MY!” Gin looked around and said “what do you guys think happened?” Ryūnosuke looked and saw the candy apple. He then said “poison.” Atsushi said “what do you mean?” Ryūnosuke said “simple it’s discolored where it was bitten into. There for there is a type of poison in their.” Kunikida said “I’ll run some tests on it to see where it came from.” Dazai sighed and picked (Y/n) bridal style in his arms while Randpo got a bed ready and Dazai lied her down. However as they were trying to ponder what happened they heard a noise. Gin jumped and put a knife to the woman’s throat. It was Isabella. She said “what do you think you’re doing? I am the queen! Just trying to take a walk!” Dazai chuckled and said “your the queen? I thought queens are supposed to be pretty not old brods.” Randpo said “you did it.” Everyone looked at him. Kunikida said “are you sure?” Randpo fixed his glasses and said “you should know by now. I am never wrong. Besides it’s obvious she was jealous of (Y/n) beauty. There for she thinks if she gets her out of the way she’ll be the prettiest one in the kingdom.” Isabella pushed Gin and said “FOOLS!” As she lunged at them a huge fight broke out as everyone started using their abilities Isabella made a ran for it and went deeper into the forest however as she ran Kenji ripped a tree out and said “sorry! But this is gonna hurt!” He threw the tree as it knocked her off balance as she tumbled of a cliff. They all looked down and saw the witches dead body. 

As they all went back to the cottage they made a nice coffin with flowers for (Y/n) Dazai layed her body in as tears hit everyone.

(What you and coffin looked like: www.redbubble.com/i/magnet/Old-Anime-Coffin-Dead-Girl-Flowers-by-LowBrowContent/105800425.TBCTK)

However Randpo was unfazed. “True love” he mumbled. Atsushi said “huh?” Randpo said “she mentioned there was a man she was falling for I feel  it’s the guy that takes a ride every week around the forest.” Dazai said “WHAT?!?! HIM?!?! But he is so short.” Kunikida said “Dazai enough! We should try it perhaps Randpo is right maybe true love is all she needs.” Gin said “ I know his route. I’ll go look for him.” Ryūnosuke said “I’ll go to just in case.” As the Aktagawa siblings looked for the man everyone else was setting flowers around (Y/n) with tears. Within a few minutes Gin and Ryūnosuke rushed with him.  Chuuya said “what’s with all t-“ he stopped as he saw her. The girl he fell in love with by first glance. He walked up to (Y/n) and said “it’s a shame I saw a future with you.” He bent down and gave (Y/n) a kiss on the lips.

YOUR POV:

Everything was black till I felt soft lifts on mine. So smooth and gentle. I opened my eyes and saw him. The man I met on that day. I smiled and he starred at me. “My name is (Y/n)” I said. He looked at me and said “Prince Chuuya of Yokohama.” With all that being said Chuuya picked me up and carried me away as I giggled. And we went off away as I said my goodbyes and blew kisses and thanked everyone.

Gin smiled and said “this is so sweet!”

Randpo said “glad she is alive and happier now.”

Dazai said “NO! Why him? He so short! I could of made (Y/n) happier”

Kunikida said “drop it Dazai. It was not gonna happen between you too.”

Atsushi said “I’ll miss her.”

Ryūnosuke mumbled “I hope she visits.”

Kenji said “OH! Someone got on Ryūnosuke’s good side!” 

Ryūnosuke said “shut up.”

The End Chuuya and (Y/n) lived happily ever after

[mariana-oconnor]

Charles Augustus Milverton pt 1

This one I remember. In multiple incarnations. I don't know why, but this guy sticks with me more than Moriarty in a lot of ways. ACD did a great job of making me absolutely disgusted with him. And I'm just going to start at the top and say Fuck Him. He's the worst.

...but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law, and with due suppression the story may be told in such fashion as to injure no one.

Watson for once waiting until people are dead to drag all their sordid secrets into the light. How kind of him.

Can't help but feeling with some things people probably wouldn't want them revealed even after death, especially considering the nature of this story, but sure.

We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had returned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's evening.

They regularly have long night-time walks together. And before you say it isn't night-time, it gets dark in winter in the UK at 4pm in December, so yes they absolutely walking in the dark. I won't say starlight, because this is Victorian London and the chances of seeing the sky are close to zero, but lamplit, at least.

“Who is he?” I asked. “The worst man in London,” Holmes answered

Ah, so that's why I have it so reinforced in my brain that he is the actual worst. Because he is literally introduced as the Actual Worst.

"Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow."

Tonight the part of Charles Augustus Milverton will be played by:

But seriously, though. The emphasis that is put on how much Holmes loathes this person. Moriarty, he respected, even appreciated as an opponent, but Milverton makes his skin crawl.

This does seem like snake slander, though. What did the snakes do to deserve this?

"The fellow is a genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury trade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is prepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth or position. He receives these wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have gained the confidence and affection of trusting women."

Capitalism meet blackmail. Blackmail meet capitalism. I'm sure you're going to get along just great.

“She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend has several imprudent letters—imprudent, Watson, nothing worse—which were written to an impecunious young squire in the country."

Could go on for a year about the utter bullshit of 'reputation' and 'honour' for women in this era and before. The way he says 'imprudent, nothing worse' indicates to me that she's just sent some slightly romantic letters. I'm guessing that there's nothing really racy about them, and even if they were. Why does anyone even care? It's all so much fucking nonsense. And if you get rid of the stigma and societal judgement attached to such things (which literally hurt no one) then people like Milverton wouldn't be able to do anything to the women. Yes, Milverton is a dickbag of astounding proportions, but he couldn't exist without society itself ensuring his continued survival with its bullshit purity culture and hypocrisy.

Attaching shame to non-harmful actions only hurts innocent people and allows horrible people to flourish. Fuck that bullshit.

/rant

Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad, golden-rimmed glasses.

Of course he has a big head. He's been described as a genius, therefore his head must be large 😂.

“My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it; but if the money is not paid on the 14th there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th.” His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever.

Oh so painful for him to discuss.

“They are sprightly—very sprightly,” Milverton answered. “The lady was a charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them."

WTF does 'sprightly' mean? Maybe I was wrong, maybe she was writing erotica to the squire. Honestly, if her husband judges her for it, then he's also a dick. Ugh ugh ugh. This man is such a prick. I hate him.

“There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten similar cases maturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example of the Lady Eva I should find all of them much more open to reason. You see my point?”

Ah, marketing...

"I assure you that I am armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing that the law will support me."

Here he presupposes that a) he would win and b) Holmes wouldn't be able to hide his body and cover up his death effectively. That seems a little shortsighted of him.

But yes, we leave with Holmes seemingly foiled for now, and disguised for a bit of... perhaps burglary? We know from the last story how much he enjoys burglary.

[devil-doll13]

Judith “Jude” Bell 🕊️

Name: Judith Bell

Meaning: ‘Praised’

Alias(es): Jude, Judy

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 23

D.O.B: May 18th

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Current Residence: N/A (she travels around, though she occasionally lives somewhere more regularly.)

Occupation: Demon/Supernatural Hunter

Appearance Description: Jude is a young woman with fair skin, hazel-green eyes and waist-length ginger hair with light curls. Athletic form due to her job as a demon hunter. Has sun-kissed, rosy cheeks and a lively complexion.

Style: Floral Dresses, Cardigans, Wool Sweaters, White Blouses, Gold, Plaid, Blue Jeans, Brown Boots

Height: 5,5ft

Eye Colour: Hazel-Green

Hair Colour: Ginger

Notable Features: Freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, as well as her shoulders and back. The ones on her back apparently form the Taurus constellation. Scars here and there from demon hunting, it’s not always easy. In particular a burn mark on her thigh and scar across her collarbone. She also wears a gold cross necklace which used to belong to her mother.

Personality: A heroic figure, she is driven by her desire for justice and is a determined and dedicated person to whatever she sets her mind to. She has matured greatly from her confused teenage years, and has become a kinder and stronger person. She has a steady, stalwart presence, and is also quite warm and trustworthy. However, when she strikes down demons and other supernatural beings, she has no remorse or mercy. She has become a strong and competent fighter after years of experience, and likewise has become better at comforting and helping people. She is more given to melancholy than she would like to admit, especially around the Autumn and Winter months. Past memories resurface during those times. Past traumas.

Likes: Light, The Sun, Gold, Doves, Bluebirds, Sunflowers, Daisies, The Ocean, Beaches, Summer, Musicals, Dogs, Lambs, White, Meadows, Honey

Dislikes: Justice, Liars/Deceitful People, Black, Witchcraft, Demons, The Moon, Ravens/Crows, Autumn/Winter, Snakes, Her Nightmares

Hobbies: Taking Morning Walks/Hiking, Reading, Collecting Crystals/Rocks (Jesus Christ Marie they’re MINERALS), Gardening (when she’s able), Botany Studies.

Rough Backstory:

Coming Soon…

Fun Facts:

Her favourite book is To Kill A Mockingbird

Her favourite film is Hairspray (2007)

Her favourite bands are The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Lana Del Rey, Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks

Her favourite colours are gold, orange and green

Her favourite food is chicken & veg soup

Her favourite drink is lemonade

Jude’s mother, Mary Bell, had multiple failed pregnancies before she managed to have her. This is also why she has no siblings.

She was named after the Beatles song. Her mom and her sisters all loved the band, and she sort of passed it onto Jude as well.

Yes, she was born on resurrection day, and yes, that was completely intentional by me.

The Final Girl who survived Abigail, her cousin. She is the angel to her devil, if you will.

Before the ‘incident’ basically ruined her life, she was a diligent student and wanted to study law and become a lawyer.

While Jude wasn’t too religious when she was younger, she has found herself becoming more faithful and pious now. Sometimes she prays for the resting souls of the innocents killed by demons, or for the nightmares to finally end…

Her nightmares are a plague on the mind, beginning when Abigail first arrived in her hometown and only worsening after what occurred on that night. They never leave, no matter what she tries to do to get rid of them.

Although she hates liars, it was ironically a deceitful ruse that allowed her to triumph over Abigail, in the end.

Despite herself, she has a little magic inside her too… On her mother’s side, her family have witchblood running through their veins. They rejected it, but it was later revived with Lucy. Jude feels it, but never acknowledges it.

Prefers going melee rather than using firearms. Also she totally sucks at aiming. Her usual weapons are axes and daggers.

Inspirations for her are of course final girls from slasher movies, but special mention goes to Laurie Strode of Halloween (1976 version)

Her name is inspired by a few things. 1. The book of Judith and the titular heroine. 2. The Beatles’ ‘Hey Jude,’ and 3. Her surname, Bell, comes from the Bell Witch hauntings story (which is really interesting by the way go check it out)

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (44)

Series Master list

Kagome nurses a cup of green tea at the kitchen island. The steam rises from the cup and helps to clear her sinuses. The heat emitting from the mug that reads: Strongest Wifey, is heavenly against the crisp morning air. The coffee maker brews in the background. Her stomach recoils at the smell.

"M'ornin," Satoru greets, his hair disheveled. He wraps his arms around her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. His warm breath sends the hairs on her arms racing upwards, brushing against the silk material of her robe. She sets the cup down and runs her hands along his forearms, down to his hands, tracing the veins. He gives her one more squeeze before pulling away to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Kagome watches him over the brim of her mug, inhaling the scent of green tea to counteract the smell of coffee in the air. It's moments like these where she allows herself to forget about Naraku's schemes, how to save Yuji in the process of getting rid of Sukuna, and the constant threat of curses and curse users alike just waiting in the shadows for an opportunity.

"I might not be home in time for dinner," Satoru says, slumping into the seat next to her. He shifts the coffee to the other side of him. "Got a lot of missions today. Megumi is gonna stop by later."

Kagome takes a long sip from her drink. She needs to play this cool or he'll catch on to her. He's been paranoid about her going anywhere alone since she got kidnapped, but she needs to talk to Yakeru without Satoru or anyone else there. Even though Yumi came after her, Yakeru deserves to hear what happened from her and no one else.

"Did he say what time? Just planning out my nap schedule." She prays she does not fall asleep on the train. Her energy levels have been at an all-time low lately. Satoru caught her last night, knocked out on the couch with a bowl of forgotten ice cream.

"Nah, depends on when he finishes his mission." He leans over and pecks her lips. "Don't worry. He has a key to the house, so you don't have to worry about letting him in or anything." His eyelashes kiss his cheeks as he stares at her with love reflecting in his eyes.

He's so damn beautiful it hurts sometimes. Any other time, she would be grateful for his attentiveness. She's never had someone dote on her as much as he does, but right now, he's making it a tad bit difficult for her to see Yakeru without him.

"Don't like that they are working you so hard," she says, changing the subject. She'll just have to wait until after Megumi leaves. Silently, she prays he does not stay the night and opts to join the other students back at the dorms. A wave of guilt washes over her. What an awful thing to think, she berates herself. Megumi is such a sweet boy, and she really does not want to drag him along with her. He's still just a kid and shouldn't have to trouble himself.

"Helps knowing that you are at home where it's safe," he picks up his cup and winks at her. She clucks her tongue, moving away from the island.

"Yeah, yeah," she quips. Kagome waves a hand in the air as she retrieves the stack of bentos from the fridge. Left to his own devices, Satoru would just eat sweets all day. "Give some to the kids," she instructs as she places the bentos into a bag.

"You're the best, Gome-chan," Satoru says, his blue eyes unwavering. Kagome averts her gaze down to the bentos. The tips of her ears tingle.

"Any request for breakfast?" She tucks her hair behind her ears. Her stomach lurches at the thought of food. A wicked smile snakes its way across Satoru's face and Kagome wonders if she'll have to lecture him if he requests something sweet.

"Yep," he says, popping the 'p'. Satoru takes the mugs and dumps them in the sink. He stalks towards her. Kagome takes a step back, her back hits the island. Her heart rate speeds up. He lifts her up as though she weighs nothing and places her down on the island. He kicks the chair away; it lands on the floor with a thud.

"Toru?" She bites her bottom lip as he kisses the column of her neck. His large grips her thighs, his fingernails digging into her skin. She shivers at the feather-like touch tracing the sides of her lace underwear. "H-hey!" She pouts at yet another pair of ripped underwear.

"Shhh, let me have my breakfast." He flashes her a lopsided smile before sinking down.

Kagome pushes up the oversized glasses and lowers the baseball cap. She keeps her head down as she navigates through the streets of Tokyo. She has no idea when Megumi will show up, but she figures that his mission will probably take some time, and she hopes he stops by in the afternoon. Which gives her a tight deadline to make it to Yakeru's, talk to him, and make it back home in time to wash off all awful concoction she sprayed herself with.

Easy… hopefully.

She knocks on the door, ignoring the sign that says closed for vacation. No way he went on vacation. The fox loves running his shop too much. She knocks harder, more frantic. The door yanks open while she's in mid-knock.

"Did you not read the sign?" His green eyes are cold. She wets her lips and then removes the sunglasses.

"Can I come in?"

"Kagome-sama?" Yakeru gasps. He sniffs the air. "Why on earth do you smell like that?" He steps out of the way, allowing her to pass.

"I didn't want to take any risks." She tucks the sunglasses into her shirt and takes off the baseball cap. Her fingers glide across the custom hairpins, keeping her bun in place. "I'm sure you know."

"Ah, yes, because of the baby. There are no secrets amongst us foxes." He glides across the room, somehow still looking so unworldly, dressed down in a casual shirt and jeans. "I am honored that you have come all this way to see me."

Kagome sucks in a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about Yumi." Her heart thunders in her eardrums, her palms are slick with sweat.

"Did she do something to offend you? I have tried to talk reason into her," he remarks, leading them towards the back room.

"Well… Uh, she kidnapped me." Kagome tightens her grip on the baseball cap.

"Did she? And yet you are here and she is not." He looks over his shoulder, assessing. "I see."

"Y-you see?" Kagome's brows furrow. He should be upset. She shakes her head. "She was working with a demon—a half-demon named Naraku."

"Then the fault lies on my shoulders."

"What? No. You couldn't have stopped Yumi from working with Naraku. And I think she was acting alone from him."

"I should have known that he would try to manipulate Yumi. She was always power hungry and Naraku is a known schemer." His voice is calm, but his fingers twitch with agitation. In a burst of confidence, or maybe stupidity, she wraps her arms around his back. "Kagome-sama?"

"I'm sorry," she offers, her voice wavering. Yakeru's claws dig into his palms. "I didn't want to, but…" Tears cling to her lashes. She was not fond of Yumi and while she does not regret protecting herself and her child—her heart cries out for Yakeru. They stand there for a moment. Her mind dwells on how familiar the others are with Naraku. She wonders how long he has been in this world—clearly a lot longer than she.

"We foxes look out for own," Yakeru says, startling her. "It is how we have survived as long as we have."

"I'm sorry," she repeats.

"Yumi rejected you despite all of the mounting proof of who you are." His shoulders slump.

"She wanted my child. She didn't care about the jewel and I don't think Naraku knew what she was planning."

"No one but you can use the power of the jewel. According to the legend, others have tried, but their wishes have always been twisted and destroyed them in the end."

Kagome unwraps her arms and takes a step back. "A scroll was taken from the school about the Shikon."

Yakeru waves a hand. "They won't be able to open it, just like they cannot destroy Sukuna's fingers in their own strength." He tosses his red locks back. "The power scale shifted with the birth of your mate. He could wipe out Japan with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. I should have anticipated this."

"Anticipated what?"

"Yumi hated how we have blended in with humans. It was not always this way, there was a time when we dominated… but we demons live a long time…"

"The human population took over?" She wonders if that explains the lack of demons in her world. "But the foxes at the hotel showed us the nursery."

"They won't be mature for centuries. Half demons take less time, but they come with the risk of losing themselves." He walks forward, leading them into an office space. He plops down in the chair, his mask cracks as the weariness settles onto his shoulders. "No one can deny the power of Satoru Gojo, not even Yumi. She must have seen your child as a weapon."

"Please do not do anything rash." Kagome rubs her arm.

"I cannot allow such a transgression. I will let the others know," he murmurs to himself as he opens the desk drawl, rummaging around for something. He pulls out a talisman and holds it out to her. "You do not understand the war that is brewing."

Kagome takes the talisman. "What is this for?" And what the heck does he mean by war? She can't tell if he means an actual one or him just seeking revenge.

"If you call, I will come." He stands up, his lips downturned. "I will take you back home. You should not have traveled alone."

"You sound like Satoru," she grumbles. She can take care of herself. Kagome puts the baseball cap back on. "I took measures to disguise myself." She slides the sunglasses on.

"Be that as it may, Naraku is not the only demon looking to return things to how they were. And your mate would have my head if I let you walk out of here and something were to happen."

"No one else knows that I'm the Shikon priestess," she points out.

"No, but you are a weak point that could be exploited if anyone wanted to take out your mate."

Yakeru trails behind her on the way home, keeping a safe distance where he could jump in at any sign of danger. In his paranoia, he changed his appearance to blend in further with the rest of the civilians. When they arrive at the home, she unlocks the door and then turns to him.

"Don't do anything rash," she stresses.

"You have nothing to worry about," he says, cheerily, "I won't do anything that you wouldn't do. Oh, and Kagome-sama, do be careful about the things you wish for."

"Wait—"

He poofs into a bird and flies off. Kagome groans. Great, just great. Yakeru is for sure going to try to track Naraku down. She takes off the baseball cap as she walks through the door. That went better than she was expecting. She thought that Yakeru would have lashed out in anger, but he was collected the entire time. And what was with the cryptic message?

"I should tell Satoru," she says, walking up the stairs. Aw, crap. She chuckles nervously at Satoru and Megumi standing at the top of the stairs.

"Tell me what?"

[shrimplymoray]

If it's not inconvenience, I would like to make an Oc× Cannon request with Jamil and my Oc Yumi, where after some time of dating, Jamil always thought that his girlfriend was someone cute who should be protected, now imagine the surprise when he discovers that his loved one is from a family of spies and assassins and the current leader (we can say that he saw Yumi getting rid of some assassins who were after Kalim and Yumi reveals who she is not a helpless aunt like that)

First TWST request lesgooo!! I don't think I have written for Jamil ever, besides very crack meme-ish stuff, so this is interesting to say the least! Hope I do the Snake Charmer justice, and Yumi justice for the matter!

Since you didn't specify, i'm doing this in Fanfic format instead of my headcanons format, let me know if you prefer it another way!

TW: Attempted homicide.

Jamil Viper X Yumi Yozakura - unnusual surprise

Jamil was never one for surprises. He liked to know all he could, to better prepare himself mentally for any troubles that could come his way. It has been this way since he became Kalim's babysi- uhm, I mean, Kalim's bodyguard. Sometimes even a look into someone's eyes told him all he needed, and Jamil was always calm and collected while doing his duties, albeit furious inside most times. Was it due to jealousy? Stress? Who really knows. Something he took pride in, however, was his lover. Yumi never gave him trouble. Quite the opposite, sometimes she was the help he needed to convince Kalim that stepping into the mushroom ring in the woods behind the campus was certainly NOT a good idea whatsoever. Yumi was always calm and collected, and Jamil had no reason to doubt her intentions near Kalim or himself. A Magicless human from another world, even if she is brilliant and capable in the physical aspect, could never compare in strength to him and his magic.

After a while they started to date Jamil felt more and more comfortable just... to allow himself to indulge in the moments with Yumi. Honest to the Seven, he never thought someone could understand his troubles, but Yumi did, somehow. And it helped him a lot.

Though things never stay peaceful in his life, it seems. During one of the many parties in Scarabia, Kalim made sure to "smoothly" invite Yumi (what can he say, he likes to see Jamil happy!), and everything seemed all fine! Everyone was dancing, eating, and enjoying themselves! But Yumi noticed a strange behavior from one of the students. This strange Heartslabyul student seemed to fidget a lot with his blazer pocket and also to be anxiously eyeing Jamil and Kalim. Jamil had to take a break to get some extra food, and while he took a second of his attention off, the suspicious student made his way to Kalim.

Yumi couldn't stop glaring at him, and with the littlest hints of a blade she saw in this boy's pocket, she took matters into her own hands. Wrapping her hands around his arm, pushing him to the floor and making sure to trap his armed hand behind his back, where she swiftly knocked the blade over. Everyone was staring in shock, but she knew that even worse than having all the attention on her, would be to have Kalim hurt, while Jamil wasn't there... or so she thought he wasn't. He had mastered the art of walking silently, much like a snake slithers its way near their prey. Jamil put a hand on her shoulder, although a bit shocked at the view he saw. "I can handle this, from here." Yumi stared at him for a split second, before she let the boy go, him cursing about how strong that girl is, and how he was so fucked after this.

The party was quickly shut off after the incident, and Yumi was kept with Kalim on the lounge while Jamil took the assassin to the headmage. "So... were ya gonna tell us anytime soon you are, like, a super duper cool fighter?" "Huh?" "C'mon~! The way you were so quick with that guy, it was awesome!" "Well, uh, thanks Kalim. It's nothing, really" "Nuh-uh! I bet everyone found it super cool too! Can you teach me it, like, you took his arm, twisted and he was on the ground? Or was there something else?" "I-" "Kalim, you are not learning that." "Aw, man... Maybe one day, I guess haha!" Yumi could hear Jamil mumbling about how he hoped Kalim never learned how to fight like that. "Uhm, well I guess I should be going back to Ramshackle now. Grim probably did his own party there, with the tuna, while I was here and... I bet he will want me to clean it up." "Oh Okay! G'night Yumi!" As Yumi was making her way to the hall of mirrors, Jamil stopped her at the entrance of Scarabia. "Wait. I have something to say." "Jamil, I... Look, I'm sorry I never told you I know how to fight, I, uh, well it's a long long long story on how I got like this but... I just... Didn't really want you to not be around me anymore, or see me as a threat to Kalim or anything like that." "I'm not mad. I was... surprised, yes. But not mad." Jamil sighed, at least there wasn't anyone else to him so... vulnerable. "I appreciate what you did there. I could've handled it, but still, I appreciate it." After a small pause, he continued "And it is good that I won't need to protect you, like I have to do with a certain someone."

Jamil may never admit it, but this confession held way more value to him than it showed. He saw Yumi as an equal. It was important to him, that he knew she didn't need him to protect her at any moment. Her being able to fend for herself meant, to him at least, that he wouldn't be staying awake at night thinking if she was safe when she was not around.

"Just for the love of the Seven, if you have any other things that I don't know yet, tell me instead of suddenly showcasing your abilities." "Then how about I sit with you in the cafeteria tomorrow for a chat?" "... Will it give me a headache?" "Actually, probably." "I think I may be regretting my words way sooner than I expected."

Hope you enjoy it! This is my first written work for TWST being published online, and I'm still getting the hang of writing everyone, but I'm a practical learner >:))

Have a great Day/Night!

[dzthenerd490]

SCP-AWS vs SCP-AXA

It was wintertime in a small and extremely secluded town of Crimson Song. The town was home to a Sarkic Clan of the same name. They were an American Proto-Sarkic Cult that only recently started embracing more a more modern and technical lifestyle such as getting electricity, air conditioning and heating, as well as analog radio. They only did this because they learned form a fellow clan that the Children of the Sarkic Seed can grow bigger and stronger when around analogue signals. Their Children typically consisted of Crawls that covered their homes, Trimmings for pets, Mimics for servants/ companions, Meat Snakes for meat disposal, and a single Host that acted as a guardian of the town. Their Host was especially useful in how he used his powers to both get rid of trespassers and bring the village fresh new food. 

It was unfortunately starting to snow very hard, and as such they had to quickly skip their morning melody singing where they gave praise to Grand Karcist Ion and the power of flesh he bestowed upon them. Villager Gargen was especially annoyed by this since he loved doing the morning song but at least he was at home with his family. He was worried about his little spawns and how they were getting attached to the radio. He could tolerate their Trimmings listening to it as it made them stronger, but his two spawns were a different matter. His mate told him not to worry but he still had the fear of them one day becoming sympathetic to those dreaded Mekhanites. 

He had heard from their traveling brethren of different clans, that there were younger members of Sarkicism and the unholy Mekhanism who were teaming up to create new religions that either worshiped both gods or neither. Such heresy can't be allowed to spread, if it does the Grand Karcist Ion will never return, and the Deathless Empire will never be restored. Perhaps he should be more sticked on how long his little spawns can listen to the radio. 

"This year's winter is going to take a heavy turn as for some reason a blizzard is coming in on the horizon seemingly out of nowhere. Experts say that this blizzard shouldn't exist as earlier analysis of the weather shows..." Suddenly the radio went to static which confused the whole family. 

"Papa! The radio isn't working!"

"Worry not little spawn, it's probably just having interference because of the weather. Come now let's have some dinner before-"

"We have returned..." Gargen and his family turned back to the radio though they couldn't look at it for they had no eyes. Like everyone in Crimson Song they were born without eyes so that their whole being would both bond and rely on the sounds of the world. However right now they didn't hear the harmony of their song but instead a strange voice coming from the radio.

"We are hungry... We will be fulfilled... the red will become white... YOU WILL BE LIKE US!" Suddenly the radio just cut off leaving nothing but static, Gargen's spawns ran up to him and one ended up hugging his legs while the other hugged his mate's legs. His mate turned her face to him in worry, though neither of them had eyes they could feel the fear in each other's hearts. 

"AAAAAH!" Suddenly loud screaming was heard outside.

"Papa I'm scared!"

"Stay here, I'll go see what's happening. Gatgo! Mak-ni gaga tu!" The two mimics in his house raised their heads and ran up to him, he then grabbed his family rifle covered in sarkic symbols and opened the door. For whatever reason it was snowing much more heavily than it did before, to prevent snow from getting in he quickly got himself and the two mimics out of the house and slammed the door shut. He unfortunately couldn't perceive anything around him because the snow was blowing so loudly. He quickly but his rifle on his back and held the shoulder of a mimic in each hand using them as his guides. They tried their best to lead him through the village in hopes of finding the source of the screams. However, they got lost quickly and only ended up going to the center of the village.

Gargen didn't complain because now that he was in the middle of the village it should be easier to find where he should go. However, as Gargen tried to remember the direction of the screams he ended up kicking something by accident. It wasn't moving so he couldn't make out its shape though vibrations, not that he could anyways given the heavy snow fall and wind. Gargen crouched down and touched what his foot was next to and ended up realizing something horrific. It was their village guardian, the Host, it was dead and covered in snow, there were even parts of its body that had ice growing out of it. 

Gargen took several steps back and covered his mouth to keep himself from throwing up due to the shock. 

A Host was killed, by an intruder? 

Impossible! 

The spores created by the Host carry in the wind for miles no one would ever be able to attack them from any distance not even those heretics from those strange organizations that dare condemn Sarkicism. 

Gargen's head was spinning, he didn't care about the screams anymore, he would be labeled a coward if he didn't help his brethren of the same clan but right now his family was more important. He quickly grabbed the mimics to have them lead him back home, but he only found one. He reached his hand out trying to find the other, but he simply couldn't. It was right there, he thought, did I wander too far from it? There's no way it would wander without my command, right? 

Suddenly he could hear it screaming from the mimic he reached out for it and only barely managed to grab its thrashing hand. He tried using their language to ask it what was wrong, but it was in too much distress to focus on anything other than survival. He could feel something was pulling on it, so he told the other mimic to help it up while he got out his rifle and shot at it. 

Gargen aimed the rifle at where the mimics legs were which should be where the creature attacking them was at. He fired but hit nothing but snow, so he reloaded his rifle and tried to fire again but still he hit nothing. The Mimic kept screaming as if something was eating it, yet he couldn't hit or feel anything there other than snow. So, in a last-ditch effort he put away his shotgun, sucked in as much air in his lungs as he could, and screamed at the snow. This was Grand Karcist Ion's gift to Crimson Song, a voice that brings harmonious joy to all Sarkites as well as a terrible screech that rots the brains of our enemies. 

With that the Mimic was finally let go, Gargen quickly went to the Mimic to see its condition, only to quickly realize it was eaten all the way up to its torso. Gargen couldn't belive it, how was this possible, there was nothing there just snow-

Chills went up Gargen's spine, he had heard rumors of... Things... objects, places, and monsters that were so terrifying even the strongest of Sarkites couldn't best them. Things that so many gluttonous Neo-Sarkites tried and often failed to collect to gain power outside of Grand Karcist Ion. Is that what this is, he thought, is this one of those things that are the toys and mistakes of Yaldabaoth and the other gods? If that was true, then it wouldn't be insane to think that it's the snow itself that's attacking them. Perhaps it was the snow itself that made that threatening message on the radio. If that was really the case, then he needed to get back to his family and get the fire at their homes burning for as hot and as long as possible. 

Soon Gargen started hearing gun fire and screaming from every direction, some of the screaming was his brethren using their gifts though most of it was a result of fear and dying. Gargen felt like a failure to not be able to help them but right now he needed to save his family. This was the way of the Sarkites, so long as one of them survived so did their teachings, and so could the religion as a whole; kill one of us, a thousand more will rise to take our place. 

Whatever this snow was whether it be some kind of abnormal predator, a weapon made by those heretics, or perhaps a pet of the Mekhanites; it didn't matter, we'll find a way to survive and thrive from this defeat. 

However, once again, Gargen's train of thought was interrupted when his way back home was blocked by something almost as tall as him. He reached out to touch it, it was as cold as snow, yet it had the perfect felling of a human face. 

"You. Will. Be. Like. Us!" Gargen growled in anger and once again sucked in all the air into his lungs and screamed at the snow creature in front of him. It was instantly pulverized into a flurry of snow, allowing him to keep running. Gargen then ordered the Mimic to help everyone get back into their homes as well. It was the least he could do and it's not like having the Mimic around would help keep his family safe.

 Gargen couldn't feel the Mimic around him anymore, he could only hope that meant that it followed his orders. Though as he heard screams and gunshots all around him, it was hard to tell if it even mattered at that point. Meat Snakes going around crushing the snowmen, Mimics fighting them and trying to tear up the snow, Trimmings and the Crawl being hopelessly eaten. Meanwhile his fellow villagers of Crimson Song were shooting their guns and using their blessings to fight the snow in vain. He could hear their war cries and screams getting quieter and quieter as time went on, he knew it was only a matter of time before they were wiped out. There was nothing he could do but at least be with his family when the end comes. Finally, Gargen made it home and quickly hugged his family as soon as they were within arm's reach. 

"What's happening out there?!"

"Some kind of demon, it lives in the snow, keep the fireplace running while I ensure there are now ways for the snow to get in." However, the walls started creaking and the house started shaking like something was trying to bash their way in. 

"Get everything and throw it into the fire! The demons live in the snow! That means they can't survive where it melts!" 

"What?!"

"Just hurry! Not even the hardened flesh of the mimics can survive their bite, we need to make this place as warm as possible to-!" Suddenly snow started going down the fireplace and it was instantly put out. Gargen couldn't think or even say anything their only hope of survival had just been put out. To make matters worse the walls and ceiling were starting to break, it was getting colder by the second and the snow started seeping in. Gargen just threw away his rifle and grabbed his family and hugged them as tightly as he could.

"I love you all, I love your even more than our savior Grand Karcist Ion, there's nothing more important to me that all of you! Do you understand? I love you so much!" His two spawns started shivering in fear, if they had eyes they would probably be crying as well. 

"We love you too papa!"

"Papa, what's going to happen to us?" Gargen then turned to his mate, and he could feel the fear and uncertainty in hear heart as well. Just then, a loud crack could be heard coming from all directions, they were only seconds away from death. 

"Wherever we go, we will go there together, no matter what! We will be together." Gargen then held his family even tighter as the walls were only seconds form collapsing. Gargen used his last moments to cover one of his spawn's ears and his mate did the same for the other. Then just like that the house was destroyed and they only thing that could be heard was the screaming of the other villagers as well as the heavy winds filled with snow. Then... nothing could be heard, not anymore. 

***

The snow had consumed yet another village, but because of it the analog signals were gone now. Though it didn't care so long as it had eaten its fill it would survive long enough to find another supply of food. It was once nothing, THEY were once nothing now it has the potential to become everything. It would become the white god, the one to destroy the old and create a new, everything would be like it and then everything would be perfect. The snow then moved on to consume me and make more like it, to make everything like it. 

However, as it tried to move several drones seemingly manifested through portals all around it. These drones could sense all the blood coming from the Vita Carnis it ate and as such saw the snow as a Vita Carnis itself. The drones started blasting at the snow with incinerating lasers burning up the snow entirely. The organisms that make up the snow were dying instantly, as a whole they started screaming in pain. 

They tried to separate but the drones followed those that did and vaporized them too. Some tried hiding deep in the snow and/ or discard the flesh they still had from the Vita Carnis only to be vaporized anyways. Just like how the snow had slaughtered the entirety of Crimson Song these drones were now slaughtering the snow. This time however, the snow didn't even last a minute before the drones vaporized everything. 

It was dead, its hopes, it dreams, all its microbes that made up its consciousness and power, all dead; there was nothing left. The snow had won the battle only to be slaughtered in the war, perhaps this was Karma. But then again, the true horror here, was that no one was left to witness any of it. It was as if the snow was never here and just like the village of Crimson Song, it had all vanished leaving nothing but rubble and bones. 

.

SCP: HMF Tales Hub

[thecagedbard]

Scenes from the Nautiloid - II. The Gith

“Tsk’va! It is as though you have never wielded the weapon you carry!” the yellow-green skinned woman shouted at Vesper as the drow held tight to her bleeding hand. “I’m sorry,” she replied as she struggled to reload a new bolt. Vesper could feel the roots of her hair heating up as the alien woman sneered at her before turning back, “At the very least,” the githyanki’s tone cooled some, “you are a capable healer.”

The drow’s eyes widened as she locked back the string before nervously laughing, “True, right?” she said through her breathy giggle. Vesper wasn’t sure how she’d done it at all, The first set of imps they’d come across had seemed easily distracted by her shouts and whistles, so during the second fight she’d done the same while wishing she had some way to help heal the sword wielder. Imagine the shock her her face when she saw some of the more gaping wounds close.

“Do you have healing potions?” the other woman asked, Vesper shook her head, “Chkz. Then we shall have to use the ghaik machinery, come closer.”

Vesper swiped her hand at her cheek, spreading the blood from an imps talons, “Should we? What if it harms us more?” But the gith didn’t allow her to back away as she harshly grabbed the elf’s arm and thrust it upward, Vesper cried out as her arm extended further than it had in a few years.

Tentacle like tendrils snaked downward until her entire forearm was covered, a resonating wave pulsed through her and she felt…refreshed. There was no sting to her arm as it dropped, the tendrils releasing once their job was done, her face didn’t burn from the cut, and her behind was no longer smarting from where she’d flung herself backward to avoid a more lethal blow.

“Do not get used to them...even on nautiloids they are rare...but it is a simpler way to rejuvenate one’s self in the astral plane,” the gith explained while she turned her head to look around them. Vesper followed her gaze, this room looked much like the one she’d woke up in, “Should we wake them?” It seemed as though the occupants of the pods were still under some sort of stasis, none stirred as they walked past.

“We do not have time,” the githyanki said. She still hadn’t introduced herself, Vesper hadn’t bothered asking, she was just trying to stay alive, “the sooner we arrive at the helm the better for all of them. We must go.” The ginger nodded as she followed behind the warrior. Two more circular rooms just like the one before, a hallway, and one of the fleshy like doors was shut immediately after the fighter opened it, “More devils and someone foolish enough to fight them,” she said as they doubled back.

Eventually the githyanki woman looked to the brain to lead them in the fastest direction. There was a momentary pause before Us began to run and run quickly, climbing a sinewy ladder and leading them to a higher floor. For whatever reason, be it to not be alone or to have a mediocre healer, the gith did not get rid of Vesper...and the elf wasn’t going to argue.

[the-hem]

"The Slough." From the Atma Upanishad, "The Exploration of the Mysteries of the Peculiarities of the Self."

Do we have bodies and minds or not? According to Vedanta, the study of the Vedas, anything that cannot withstand the test of time is not valid.

A fact or a figure cannot be true yesterday and false today or it was in reality , false both days. So thoughts, desires, wishes, fantasies, delusions, all the fictions we peddle about ourselves, which cannot contain or hold any purity at all because they pass through the brain similarly lack validity and can be dismissed on the spot. Who understands the need to heed the most constant and pure aspects of life will comprehend the following passages:

II-12. Existing as the Self of all, he is ever content abiding in his Self. Free from all wealth, he rejoices always: though companionless, he is mighty.

II-13. Though not eating, he is ever content, peerless he looks on all alike: though acting, he does nothing: though partaking of fruit, yet, he is no experiencer thereof.

II-14-17. Living in a body, he is still disembodied; though determinate, he is omnipresent; never is this Brahman-Knower, disembodied and ever existent, affected by the pleasant and the unpleasant or by the good and the evil.

Because it appears to be encompassed by Rahu (the darkness), the unencompassed sun is said to be encompassed by deluded men, not knowing the truth.

Similarly, deluded folk behold the best of Brahman-Knowers, liberated from the bondage of body, etc., as though he is embodied, since he appears to have a body. The body of the liberated one remains like the shed Slough of the snake.

It is the treatment of flights of fancy as if they are real or the negation of pure reality as if it were unreal these two delusions are the night vampires of life. The Republicans, with their painted cows and weird statements about border insecurity are trying to get us to believe in something that is not true. When was the last time the Federal Government issued a terror warning for our own soil?

The only terrorists that are living in America are the ones the Republicans and Mormons brought here to work for them, like the ones they hired to work in those Marriott hotels and Walmarts, the very same that attacked Israel on October 7 and are still being dug out of their hidey holes.

They and we should be focusing on cooling the earth down but instead, they are telling us more lies, and we are allowing them to do it.

Observe: This pattern, called the Lehi-Nephi Trail a fictitious migration route thought by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to be the very same taken by an ancient ancestor of theirs is the very same pattern Hamas and Hezbollah are using under Israel and the Middle East. Where did they learn it from? Why would they, apparently Muslim terrorists, be using it? Ask Donald Trump.

Even more moist and juicy about this discovery is the question as to how long it has been going on right underneath the very open eyes of the US Government, this intense work of our own home grown American Terror Industry, and why it was allowed. The border security problem, therefore is because of us, not upon us.

Everyone on earth should therefore do as the Upanishad says, and sit still for a few moments and meditate upon what can heard, smelt, felt, seen, and tasted, and rearrange life according to what we know is solid. All that is fluid and fake should be sloughed.

That means, all sane persons will do whatever it takes to rid this world of the LDS and the Republicans responsible for this mess, now, today, and the survivors of their ridiculous evil will commence at once with starting this world over again.

[mayhemandtrouble]

Where To Now, Chapter 34 of Not Giving Up

Full story on A03 with detailed tags

The next weeks blurred together, at least for the new parents. Eat, change diapers, feed the twins, sleep for a few minutes, repeat until time loses all meaning and you can’t remember the last time you were clean. Leia showed no sign of leaving Varykino, and thus neither did Chewie - with both Rey and Leia in the same place, there was no getting rid of the Wookie.

Rose, Finn and Poe would leave occasionally for day trips into the nearby cities and towns. They would return with supplies of groceries, gifts for the babies and mother, and packets of information that Rose and Finn looked over carefully. It took Rey embarrassingly long to realize the couple were seriously looking at housing nearby - less because anything was being hidden and more because she was simply too tired to connect the mental wires. 

The overwhelming feeling of exhaustion had made Rey push back when Ben insisted she go train. Though he cautioned moderation, her husband was insistent on the point and had even recruited Finn to his cause. Against the pair of annoyed puppy eyes, she didn’t have a chance. 

Still, she had to admit that the feel of a staff in her hands was shockingly soothing. Fresh clothes of soft, loose white linen trousers and tunic made for a comfortable workout and stepping into the familiar routines was like coming home to herself. Moving through each stance, she savored the beautiful stretch in her muscles. Rey felt the exercise clearing her mind, till nothing existed but the sound of her footwork and the whirr of her staff cutting through the air. 

Rey had nearly forgotten the meditative properties of the Jedi training, so focused on the twins and securing Ben’s future. He was going to be incredibly smug over being right, Rey mused as she splashed her face with cold water, already picturing the smile on his handsome face. She’d needed to get back to this.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t going to let your lessons go to waste. You annoyed me enough to get them.”

Rey’s good mood quickly soured, whirling on the ball of her foot with water droplets flicking off her features from the movement. Staff held at the ready, regardless of the ineffectiveness against the cerulean features of her former teacher.

“He’s rubbing off on you, you know that?” Luke snorted, watching the immediate assumption of a fight. Though, if he was pushed to honesty, Rey had always been quick to react and feisty as hell. He chalked it up to her life on Jaku.

“If he is, it’s a good thing.” Rey slowly drew back to a stand, eying the Jedi with no hiding her wariness. She’d privately been wondering when he would show up after the birth. There was certainly no stopping the family visitors, and they didn’t seem to respect polite visiting hours. At least nobody had dropped in during the labor itself.

“That’s up for debate.” The older man heaved a long-suffering sigh and crossed the floor to close the distance. Luke’s eyes moved steadily from Rey’s feet to the crown of her head, then back to her eyes. “You seem in good health.”

“Ben has taken excellent care of me.”

“Don’t forget you’ve taken care of yourself.” He cautioned, knowing it would fall on deaf ears yet he tried anyway.

“I took care of myself for a long time, I’m allowed to enjoy being taken care of for once.” Digging in, Rey drew herself up and squared her shoulders - challenging him to refute her. Whatever point he had was lost in her certainty that Luke only wanted to diminish what Ben had done.

“You’re right.” He ceded with another sigh, closing his eyes. He hadn’t come for a fight, though Luke was aware he’d certainly set the stage for one. Well, he’d never exactly been great with people, had he? “I came to see the twins.”

“Can I trust you near them?”

Her distrust was obvious, looking Luke over as one does a venomous snake. He knew she’d like to trust him, it wasn’t hard to discern the straight-forward woman once you learned a little about her. Rey would like to believe in the legend of Luke Skywalker again, and she would like to have Great-Uncle Luke in the lives of her daughters. And though Luke wasn’t aware of a way that Rey could actually stop him from manifesting in the nursery, if anyone could find a way, it would be Rey of Jakku.

“I’ve no intention to hurt the girls.” Luke held up his hands in a peaceful surrender. “For that matter, we can barely interact with the living physically - it takes quite a lot to achieve very little, and only with Force sensitive individuals.”

“Considering it’s our daughters, that’s not reassuring.” Rey snapped, contemplating the answer. She didn’t think he would outright lie to her, nor could she think of a reason for Luke to want to hurt the twins. They might not ever forgive Luke, but the man wasn’t prone to violence without some kind of reason. “We’ll see what Ben says.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Luke chuckled darkly, starting to ‘walk’ along with Rey. It had been a long time since he had been at the Lakeside Retreat. He’d first come with Leia, when she was trying to uncover the truth of their parents and their marriage. They hadn’t been much older than Rey and Ben were now, or at least it felt that way. In the grand scheme of things, they’d been children.

“Rey, explain why there is a walking pile of Rancor shit beside you.”

Ben’s face had instantly turned to stone on seeing Luke, not that Rey expected anything different. She’d vaguely hoped Leia would be with him to help with the discussion but no such luck. Instead, Ben was in their bedroom with Padme settled into her crib while Breha was being powdered for a fresh nappy.

“I didn’t invite him, Ben. If there’s a trick to make them go away, please share.” She grumbled while crossing the room, pausing at Ben’s side. Despite his annoyance, he leaned down to the side, letting Rey stretch up on her toes to kiss his cheek in greeting.

“Once I find one, I will.” His voice was cold and though Ben’s words were ostensibly directed at his wife, Luke felt the chill. Ben’s every nerve was on fire, trying to take everything in at once - from the sound of Rey shifting clothing as she prepared fresh things for herself to the soft bird calls outside. Nothing would hurt these girls.

“Kid-”

Luke only managed a step before Ben whirled with a growl, extending his right hand with a push of the Force that sent furniture tumbling. Sadly for the Brat Prince, it passed harmlessly through the Force Ghost.

“I’m dead, remember?” He couldn’t help the amused smirk that crossed his aged features. Ben had always been too reactionary, even as a child. Far too quick to assume danger and lash out. Glancing to Rey, Luke quirked an eyebrow to raise a silent question. The answer was Rey coming to stand beside Ben, slowly rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades - staring back at the Spirit defiantly. “You always did have a nasty temper.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Ben narrowed his gaze, contemplating all avenues of ridding the universe of his Uncle.

“Luke, quit being an ass or I’ll get Leia.” Rey rubbed her temple with her free hand. Exactly what the other Skywalker twin would do, Rey didn’t have a clue. But she was betting Luke didn’t want to be on the other side of a lecture.

“Fine.” Luke sighed, putting up his hands and rolling his eyes to signal a truce if not defeat. “I came to see the twins. And to talk to you, Ben.”

“Whelp. That’s my cue.” Rey chirped all-too cheerfully with a jerk of her head towards the refresher, announcing her intention to get cleaned up and leave the boys to their emotional messes.

“Traitor.” Ben grumbled under his breath, watching his wife walk towards the bath. Choosing to ignore the universal salute she replied with in favor of turning back to his daughters. Quickly diapering Breha, who waved her arms in uncoordinated enthusiasm to be the center of Daddy’s attention again.

“They’re beautiful.” 

Uncle’s voice came from the right side, looking down at them both. Again, Ben contemplated why it was Luke whose presence he had to endure. There were so many other options, so many more productive, useful options. He’d settle for simply less infuriating.

“They take after Rey.” In truth, Ben didn’t see much of his own features in the cherub faces of his children yet. Though he supposed that might change as they grew. Mother swore the cheeks were the same, and she liked to coo over holoimages with Rey. He was surprised Mother hadn’t destroyed them, rather wishing she had.

“You’re better with them than I thought you’d be.”

“You thought I’d be dead by now.” If it was supposed to be a compliment, it fell flat with Ben shooting a Luke that would have killed lesser mortals. If they were still alive to die, that is.

Luke sighed slowly, watching his nephew’s movements. How Ben gently worked each of Breha’s limbs into a powder blue onesie with white pricks of starlight - Padme wore a matching one in lavender. The infant seemed to barely fill Ben’s large hands as her father placed her down beside her sister.

“It’s significantly easier to contemplate the redemption of a dead man than a living one. Even easier when you still think you have all the answers.”

When Luke finally broke the silence, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Though his eyes were focused on the twins, his gaze seemed to set on something far beyond their crib. Ben’s lips curled slowly into a frown, gently brushing a protective hand along the edge of the crib. 

“Did Mother tell you to say that?”

“No. Though she certainly still knows how to strike fear in my heart.” He reached out, passing a translucent hand over Padme’s brow. “Remarkably sentimental to name them after your grandmothers.”

“I’ve become sentimental.” Ben ceded with a faint smirk, then shot his Uncle an openly suspicious and lingering look. “What are you playing at?”

“Nothing about this is a game, Ben.” He ignored the obvious eye rolling of his nephew. Talking to Ben had been difficult since the kid became a teenager. There was so much of Han in the boy. “I’m here to talk about that night.”

“So talk.” Ben pressed his lips together, throwing himself into a nearby chair. It took all his newly acquired patience not to scream at the man that the time to discuss that evening had long passed. Luke took painfully long to speak again, as though unable to gather words around what he wanted to say.

“What happened… was wrong. And instead of dealing with the mess I worsened, I ran from it all.” Luke Skywalker exhaled slowly, puffing out his cheeks and letting them grow slack. He might not need the oxygen any longer but it still felt therapeutic to go through the motions. Luke would likely never see eye-to-eye with Leia or Rey, and certainly not Ben, regarding his actions that night. But they weren’t there, and didn't feel the overwhelming Darkness he had. All the same… 

“That’s the shittiest apology for trying to murder a teenager I’ve ever heard. And I’m the monster.” Ben smirked coldly while his emotions ran amuck behind the tightly sealed barrier of his will. Uncle would never be allowed to see hurt on Ben’s face again. Ever.

“I can go back to actively killing you, if you prefer.” Luke dismissed the expected criticism with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You can try.” 

Rey’s voice cut sharply through the air from across the room, even through the refresher door. Ben had idly supposed that she would be listening but it was pleasant to have it confirmed all the same. It had been a long time since he had felt protected by anyone.

Luke laughed without shame, much to the annoyance of the obvious annoyance of the couple. Rey appeared shortly, freshly dressed and with her face washed, and wasted no time striding to stand beside Ben with a hand on his shoulder.

“Relax. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“Ah, you’ve stopped wanting to kill me?” Ben’s icy smile never changed, his fingers lacing with Rey’s. He would have to speak with Mother, encourage her to have words with Uncle. Wouldn’t want the damned dead Jedi to wear out his welcome after all.

“You’re not the same as you were.” Luke spoke quietly. There was… a great deal more that Luke wanted to say. It would have to wait. Both men needed time to recover from what little had been said. Watching Rey squeeze Ben’s shoulder, he worried he was making yet another mistake in not continuing to urge her to run. But… maybe, just maybe, Leia was right. “I should go.”

“No one is stopping you.” The younger man tilted his head to the side, watching his daughters and choosing to bury his own feelings under the concern of a new parent. Luke’s pathetic attempts to take responsibility would simply have to wait - Ben had much more important things to take care of. 

He hadn’t anticipated that, on the list of things more important than Luke Skywalker, Ben would have to add ‘pretending to be interested in home rentals’. Rose was confident that Naboo would be a good place for Finn to start figuring out his life outside of the First Order and Resistance. Between that and having already gotten several nibbles on potential jobs for herself, Rose and Rey were browsing HoloNet listings whenever they had a spare moment. 

It didn’t seem like something that would require him but Rey decided that, since Ben knew about the local area and the planet, that he ought to be part of the process. He would have rather given Finn Force Training 101, but the man was taking his sweet time coming clean - and it was rather amusing to watch him fumble about with the information. Trying to ask questions discreetly and being painfully obvious. Ben was certain the only reason Rey hadn’t caught on yet was because she was exhausted from the twins most of the time.

For that matter, he didn’t especially understand the drive to find someplace even as the weeks were turning into months. There was certainly more than enough space in Varykino and Ben was used to the idea of sharing large domiciles among multiple families. Besides, it was quite convenient for Rey to have the other two in the same building.

It was, at least, less annoying for the absence of Poe. Being the only one willing to openly antagonize the former Supreme Leader, Ben couldn’t help but privately be pleased when Poe Dameron was called back to duty. To the surprise of no one, Poe had formally announced that he intended to stay with the Resistance till the end. If Ben cared enough to guess, he would wager that Dameron would move from the Resistance into the leadership of whatever governing body would be formed. 

The holoconferences had begun, offering blessed reprieve from homing selections but were decidedly annoying. True to the deal Leia had brokered on Ben’s behalf, he was pestered for clarification, additional information and opinions regularly. It was, from his end, tedious and without mental simulation of any kind. 

Almost every call was the same - several representatives of varying factions and authorities would take turns asking questions to resolve lingering First Order created problems. Usually it was only a matter of confirming base and hideout locations, secret and double agents, that sort of thing. 

Occasionally, Ben actually had to think about where a particular agent or Knight might be hiding. Or create a detailed battle plan based on reported resources and locations, outlining the ways trained First Order troops would likely respond. Exceedingly more interesting than verifying information he’d already provided in the data spikes, though he suspected a large part of this was a display. Mother wanted everyone to see how thoroughly Ben Solo had abandoned the role of Kylo Ren.

It wasn’t a bad tactic, Ben mused, scrolling through a few listings of places that were currently looking for tenants. He found himself oddly indifferent to the idea of Rose and Finn living nearby. He would have expected himself to loathe it, so perhaps he was warming to her friends after all. Or at least more options for baby-sitters.

“What did you find?”

A voice that was altogether too happy for simply stumbling upon her husband’s browsing history chirped from beside him. Though Rey didn’t remain to the side for long, as soon as Ben leaned back in his chair, she scrambled in to sit sideways. Happily nestled against him while also looking at the listings he’d been comparing.

“Rose wants a work space for welding and machinery and such, but the traitor wants a cozy place. You want them nearby, so I’ve been looking at places on the nearest edge of the closest town. Something small, where we can stick a workshop nearby.”

“So you’re only looking to make me happy?” Despite the annoyed boredom in Ben’s voice, Rey grinned. She didn’t even bother to correct him on Finn’s name.

“It’s my prime motivator these days.” Ben snorted before burying his face into her neck. She smelled of sunshine and flowers. “Where are the girls?”

“On the main veranda with your Mother. Rose is taking a few scans of them, said something about starting a scrapbook.” Sighing happily, Rey closed her eyes and leaned fully against Ben’s chest. Their life seemed entirely too sweet for people like them, a villain and a scavenger. As though sensing her thoughts, Ben suddenly sank his teeth into her shoulder.

“So we’re alone?” As he spoke, his breath fanned along her skin.

“Mmhmm.” Her mouth went dry as she answered. It wasn’t difficult to picture where her husband’s mind was heading. They hadn’t had relations of any type since their wedding night - she’d been healing and they’d been entirely entranced by the girls, not to mention exhausted. Rey was suddenly entirely aware of the thin material of her shirt, and how Ben’s breath warmed her skin through it. Wiggling deeper into his lap, she was rewarded with a tightening of his embrace.

Ben didn’t know if Rey had been planning this when she darted in. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a seduction, in the same sleeveless cream top and snug pants she’d worn for the past few days. Not that he was much better - his black shirt was half unbuttoned and falling open, with the same wrinkled trousers he’d been wearing off and on for the past week.

Whatever she’d had in mind, and all his own plans for the afternoon, were being put on a temporary hold as his hand slipped down her thigh. Her sudden intake of breath, as his fingers approached the clothed junction of her legs, had his own pants tightening. Then there was the sweet way her face buried into his shoulder, all the while her arms tightened in an embrace around his neck. 

“Ben…”

The way she murmured it, so softly against his clothing, it rather felt like a question. As though she doubted he would follow through. Utterly ridiculous. Ben pressed his thumb slowly against the fabric that covered the bundle of nerves he loved to torment. 

“Yes, my wife?”

The sweet concern in his voice was belied by the way his fingers moved. Rubbing against her core slowly, warming her up just the way Rey liked. Till her hips were wiggling on his lap, falling more and more apart. When her outside leg slipped down, foot hitting the floor with a soft thud and splaying her thighs open, Ben seemed to pounce. Pressing hard just above her clit, till Rey’s eyes popped open and her lips parted with a gasp.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She could feel the words rumbling around his chest, his tone so incredibly cocky. Ben knew what she was going to say, he wanted to make her say it - both to feed his ego and for the flicker of fright in his brown eyes. He might never feel entirely secure but she’d never get tired of reminding him.

“Ben… Don’t stop… Don’t ever stop”

She was too sweet, utterly delectable as her green eyes closed and Rey leaned her forehead against his own. Trusting him with her body and her pleasure, forgiving his sins and inspiring him to new ones.

“There’s my sweetheart.”

He seemed to purr and the affectionate kiss Ben placed against her temple was in strange contrast to how his strong fingers were rubbing quickly between her thighs. Winding her up till Rey was whimpering in pleading breaths, hips bucking against his touch. Meanwhile he nipped a teasing path from her shoulder to just below her jaw. 

Watching her skin flush, feeling the beating of her pulse beneath his lips, Ben swore he could catch the scent of her desire in the air. Especially when she broke, arousal soaking through the thin layer of her panties and creating a patch of moisture at the crotch of her pants. Right beneath where his fingers rubbed. Ben’s mouth watered.

“I love you.” Rey thrummed with joy, not even caring how ungainly her sprawled legs must look. Her only concern was Ben and the feel of his fingers slipping beneath her waist band. The wonderful sensation of having his calloused fingers buried deep within, setting that fast pace that made her heart race.

“Let’s see if you say that in a minute.” He promised with wicked intention, cradling her close with one arm while the other hand engaged in debauchery. Plans were quickly flickering through his mind, he could bind her to the desk - wide open to any desire he might have. Introduce her to being penetrated by things other than his fingers or cock. 

Ben groaned as her walls clamped down around his digits, soaking his hand with her need. Rey never failed to incite his wildest dreams, if anything his struggle to keep the pace reasonable. He wanted to throw her into sin, watch as she drowned in pleasure but then he might break the most beautiful thing he’d ever corrupted.

“I’ll never… ever stop saying that…” She panted, leaning into his side. Rey hadn’t intended to start anything when she bounced into the room - at least not consciously. It had been the realization that they had a few moments alone, and a rushed eagerness to feel his arms, that had motivated her.

He laughed, a low rumble in his chest, as Ben shifted quickly. Pouncing forward while flipping his wife onto her stomach, aggressively leaning over Rey as though to refute the gentleness of his own hands when he’d laid her out.

Rey arched her back, leaning up into his hands. Those hands that had threatened her, carried her and comforted her. Now pressed against her lips, till she opened and began to suckle the now familiar flavor of her own arousal off his fingers. Facing the wall, she couldn’t see him but Rey could hear Ben’s hiss of strained arousal. Especially as her tongue darted between, laving his calloused, drenched fingers. 

Heaven. Ben groaned, biting the back of her neck. Rey was simply beyond anything he’d experienced with anyone else. Making him demanding, possessive while protective, tender even in his sadism. Leaving his right hand at her mouth, enjoying the administrations of his Flower, Ben used his left to roughly tug at her waistband. Working the material down impatiently, he could feel his patience growing thinner with every heartbeat. 

There was an intoxicating sense of growing dread. As the pregnancy had begun to interfere with their lovemaking, Ben had snorted dismissively at her concerns that he might feel neglected. Instead, he made frequent promises of what he’d do, once she was ready again. Things they’d done before, things that made her blush, things that seemed impossible.

She could have asked him, Ben would tell her anything if Rey asked. But it was strange how much she liked the not knowing. Feeling his booted feet slip between her own, widening her stance with firm pressure. Until his hips were slotted neatly between her thighs, feeling the pressure of his arousal through his trousers and her soaked panties.

Those panties, soft dove grey, were infuriatingly in the way. Ben traced the fingers of his left hand along the material. Outlining his lover’s soft lips through the wet cloth, listening to how her breathing changed at the light touch. It was with moderate reluctance that Ben pulled his hand free of Rey’s lips.

She didn’t hear the soft noise of Ben palming something off his desk, or at least didn’t consider it noteworthy. Not compared to the rustle of his clothing as he slowly crouched behind her, or the warmth of his breath. Letting her know how close his lips were to the center of her desires.

“Ben-” Rey wiggled her hips impatiently, only to be cut off by the sharp sensation of his teeth on the apple of her right cheek. Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk, toes curling as she yelped. Vaguely aware of Ben caught the material of her panties in his mouth as he released her flesh, then intensely aware of how he was tugging them down with just his teeth. Exposing her womanhood to the cooler air as pleasure flooded upwards from the bite mark.

“What do we say when we want something?” Leaning back onto his haunches, Ben savored the view of his very own darling wife, splayed and bent over his desk. Where he was bartering First Order secrets and intel to maintain their life. For all he knew, the silenced datapad was pinging with demands even now. He rather hoped it was. Ben liked the idea of ignoring them all to fuck Rey.

“Ben…” She whined, but only got a kiss. Placed lovingly upon the bite, while his hands worked her panties further down her legs. Soft licks as he worked closer to her core, hungry nips - dragging his teeth along her skin. So close but so far from what she wanted. “Ben, please!”

“There we go.” Ben didn’t bother keeping the smirk out of his voice but he didn’t keep her wanting a second longer. Burying his face between her thighs, he feasted on her folds, tongue lashing roughly against her clit. Each hungry moan made his dick jump in his pants, and it was hard not to simply bury inside her right now. Just a little bit more. He had made her no end of promises, hadn’t he?

Her nails clawed against the material of the desk, Rey pressing her cheek against the cool material. For this moment, the entire world faded from her. All that existed was Ben, lapping up her nectar like a starving man, his hands running up her thighs only to rake back down when she hit her peak - seasoning her climax and making her scream.

She didn’t hear the soft slice of metal through thin fabric. In the midst of her pleasure, she didn’t even notice that something was missing. She only knew the feel of Ben moving behind her, one of his arms snaking beneath her to raise her torso slightly. His lips sealing over her own, demanding and hungry. And she returned his kiss with the same desperation, moaning against his lips.

Rey looked so beautiful like this. He loved her willful nature, admired her strength in all ways. But this was a vulnerable side she saved for him alone and he loved it. Her green eyes barely open, yet looking up at him with poorly concealed lust. The flush of desire smeared across her face, with dewy perspiration just starting to dot her forehead.

Ben kissed the tip of her nose lightly, taking another moment to admire her as he ran the rough pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. Her mouth opened slightly in response, and he couldn’t help a smug smirk. His perfect lover. In his darkest moments, he considered it a waste that a woman so wonderful ended up with someone so twisted as him. And yet she seemed to love it as much as he did.

His thumb slipped into her mouth. Aching, Rey tried to suckle on the digit but Ben pushed downward firmly till she opened further. Looking up at him in question, her husband only met her gaze with a gaze that reminded her of ravenous beasts. The answer came when something was pushed between her lips. A soft ball of cloth, soaked here and there with a familiar tang.

Rey’s eyes opened wide, mind racing even as she closed her jaw obediently at his hand’s urging. It was her panties. He’d put her own cum soaked panties in her mouth. For the briefest of moments, she considered spitting them out. But then his lips were on her own again, as though sealing some promise with a kiss and she was moaning in her throat.

Drawing back to a stand, Ben gently pressed her head back down against the desk. His heart was hammering, watching her eyes narrow again and her hips press against his own in want. Now her cries were muffled by her sealed lips and he knew what was in her mouth. What he’d put there. 

“You shouldn’t indulge me. I’ll only get bolder.” He warned, the fingertips of his right hand dancing down the back of her tunic. Finding the hem, and gently stroking the curve of her ass. Her petite figure had changed as a result of carrying the twins, though not a single inch had lost its luster. 

The first strike seemed to echo through Ben’s cozy office. He wasn’t entirely sure how she’d respond though, watching her body and face carefully while his palm slowly caressed the cheek he’d spanked. His reward was how her eyes grew wide with the sting, then slowly closed with a heady groan. Unable to resist, Ben bent, kissing the skin he’d just reddened. 

The following blows slowly increased in tempo. Each time, there was a burst of pain that sent arousing warmth spreading throughout her body. He switched sides and she writhed shamelessly, desperately seeking friction against his body. Rey swore she could feel her arousal dipping down her thighs, but when she tried to press them together, Ben planted his own between them firmly.

“You can scream… but don’t lose that gag.”

Rey howled in frustration, her teeth biting into soft material. Lovingly cruel, Ben was keeping his promise. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or loved him more in this moment, only that she was growing increasingly desperate for him.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words were quiet, barely spoken but she could hear them. Sending her heart racing even more, the man was truly sadistic. Then barely giving her time to comprehend before his nails were biting into her rosy and warm backside. Making her back arch though his free hand kept her pinned neatly by pressing into the small of her back.

The tip of Ben’s tongue traced his lips. How far could he push her at once? It was a familiar calculation but now without the pretense of bringing her into Darkness. It was surprisingly more fun to calculate depravity without deception, with a simple end goal of her bliss. How much time did they actually have before someone noticed the new parents hadn’t been seen for a few minutes?

The sensation of his hand winding into her brown hair was always overwhelming, fingers gripping and soothing all at once. Rey moaned around the soaked fabric, feeling as though every nerve in her body were on fire. Sensual heat radiated from her ass, and she was now oh so very sensitive to every fold in his clothing when he pressed tight against her. Why was Ben still dressed. He had to know she needed him. But when Rey tried to peek over her shoulder, his grip in her hair only tightened, refusing to let her look at anything beyond the wall - despite her frustrated groans. 

Ben could watch her like this for hours, her ass glowing from a fresh spanking and trying to grind against his arousal through his clothes. Or, more accurately, he wanted to but actually having the control to keep her so needy for long without stating themselves was utterly beyond him. 

“Remember that time in a forest, through the connections? I watched you ride me and wished I could wear armor soaked with your scent.” 

The idea was wicked and sinful and beautiful. Rey loved it, the idea of the Supreme Leader wearing the arousal of a Jakku scavenger like perfume. Would Hux have realized what it was? She could picture Ben whirling on the redheaded snake, bellowing at him for some slight and the rodent being overwhelmed by the scent of sex.

It was just enough to keep her already distracted mind busy, simply not caring about a faint rustle of cloth. Until Ben had himself positioned just right, til Rey could feel the thick tip of him pressing just outside where she needed him most. Nearly howling in her need, Rey tried to wiggle backwards.

Adorable. Too precious to deny even as he tried. Ben grasped her hips with both hands, holding tight as he pulled her back and onto him. Sheathing his rigid cock in one thrust, hissing under his breath as he did. Such a perfect fit, and Rey was already moaning beneath him. Depraved calculations went out the window, slamming his hips against her own.

Every thrust brought her higher, Rey’s lips were parted and she gasped out in time with Ben’s rhythm. Her lust filled eyes were shameless, laying her cheek against the desk and looking back at him over her shoulder. His nails bit more sharply into her skin but Ben didn’t stop her.

Several of his dark curls had fallen into his eyes yet the man looked transfixed by the sight of where their bodies met. It was both embarrassing and thrilling, knowing that Ben was watching his arousal slide deep within her cunt, coming out slick and glistening only to plunge back in. She wasn’t the only one who felt utterly helpless to their connection, overcome with need for the other.

He needed to feel her, feel the way her body clenched around him when Rey hit her highest peaks. Every cry of pleasure she made was proof of their link, how they were perfectly fitted to one another. Greedily, Ben began to rub at her clit again, unable to wait even a moment longer.

She tried to scream his name, the sound muffled but the way her body responded wasn’t muted in the slightest. Her thighs were drenched from a fresh wave from arousal, and Rey could hear the sounds of their lovemaking bouncing off the walls. The lewd noises that only seemed to intensify with every peak.

Ben never looked away from where her arousal painted his cock and made an utter mess of their clothes. They’d need a trip to the shower after this and he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Rey, cumming hard around him. Again and again. Till he was bracing himself on the desk over her, struggling to hold back - wanting to make it last just a little longer. Never ready for it to be over.

Rey’s mind swam with the potent mix of endorphins and affection, watching Ben’s eyes. How they were nearly closed, reaching the end of his ability to hold back. A part of her had been afraid she would lose this, that the intensity of their spark would not weather familiarity and parenting. Feeling Ben snap his hips forward, and the heat that spilled out from him, banished the last of such concerns.

As his wife descended into the warmth of a pleasure filled haze, Ben pressed tighter within as though trying to reshape their two bodies into one. When coherent thoughts began to flit around, unwelcomingly announcing the imminent return to reality, Ben reached out. Once again coaxing Rey’s mouth open, plucking the ruined undergarment from her mouth. Making sure she saw him give it a slow inhale before he let the material fall to the ground.

“You are…”

“A monster?” He smirked, leaning down to gently press his weight into her. To his surprise, she laughed and shook her head.

“Wonderful. You’re wonderful, Ben.”

He had to quickly duck his head into her shoulder, distracting her with a quick, half-thrust of his softening length. Ben supposed he could live a hundred more years and he would never get used to Rey talking about him like that, with that warmth in her voice and her eyes full of love. 

Rey laughed a little more, enjoying how Ben could shift from ‘brute’ to bashful schoolboy with a properly applied complement. Especially when, trying to hide it further, he briskly went about the business of replacing their clothing and scooped her up into his arms.

She let him fuss about how they would be discovered soon and he needed to get them to the refresher. Her legs were wobbly anyway and Rey loved being in his arms. Ben’s embrace was safe, the only place in the galaxy where she got to rest. Fitting her head against his shoulder, Rey sighed happily.

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