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etfrin · 7 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-three | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus snow, canon typical violence, canon typical death, oral sex (m. receiving), implication of committing murder | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus gets more blood on his hands, he also gets his cock sucked.

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 two more exams to go!! can't wait for it to finish! Make sure to reblog and give your feedback! <33

beta read by the birthday girl @nowitsmissing

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The next days of Coriolanus Snow are spent in constant paranoia. He avoided you and refused to make eye contact. He was simply so afraid of what was going to happen. Before him, you were much closer to Sejanus. Snow briefly wondered if you interacted with Sejanus because of the power his family held. But he quickly dismissed that thought. Surely you wouldn't have been so calculating since childhood.

District 12 was in chaos trying to find out what happened with Mayfair and Billy Taupe. Spruce had kept his lips sealed. However, he knew that won't be the case for long.

Sejanus Plinth would be dead. And Spruce would know exactly who is responsible. But Coriolanus thought that he would escape to the north before it happened. Lucy Gray was in a hurry too. She was the lead suspect as Mayfair was the reason she was in the games.

Today was the day the bodies were found. Rotten. It was a miracle it was hidden for so long. He had an inkling it was due to you. Because the bodies weren't found at the original place of murder but on the outskirts of District 12. People rarely go there.

The Peacekeepers were talking about it right now. Coriolanus carefully listened, trying to see if anyone had any knowledge of what had actually happened.

“They’re both locals, but one of them is the mayor’s daughter. The other one’s a musician or something, but not one that we’ve seen. They were shot dead.”

“Did they find who did it?” asked a Peacekeeper.

“Not yet. These people aren’t even supposed to have guns, but like I told you, they’re floating around out there,” another replied. “Killed by one of their own, though.”

“How do they know that?” asked Sejanus.

‘Shut up!’ thought Coriolanus. Knowing Sejanus, he could be one step away from confessing to a crime he didn’t even commit.

“Well, she said they think the girl was shot with a Peacekeeper’s rifle, probably an old one that got stolen during the war. And the musician was killed by some sort of shotgun the locals used for hunting. Probably two shooters,” Smiley reported. “They searched the surrounding area and couldn’t find the weapons. Long gone with the murderers, if you ask me.”

Coriolanus’s nerves unwound a bit, and he ate a forkful of pancakes. “Who found the bodies?”

“That little girl singer — you know, the one in the pink dress,” said Smiley.

“Maude Ivory,” said Sejanus.

“I think that’s it. Anyway, she freaked out. They questioned the band, but when would they have had time to do it? No guns were found, no prints either,” Smiley told them. “Shook them up pretty good, though. I guess they knew the musician guy somehow or other.”

Because of the past night’s events, the commander locked down the base for the day.

He and Sejanus floated around, trying to look normal. Playing cards, writing letters, cleaning their boots. As they knocked the mud from the treads, Coriolanus whispered, “What about the escape plan? Is it still on?”

“I’ve no idea,” Sejanus said. “The commander’s birthday isn’t until next weekend. That was the night we were supposed to go. Coryo, what if they arrest an innocent person for the murders?”

‘Then our troubles are over’, thought Coriolanus, but he only said, “I think it’s highly unlikely, with no guns. But let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Coriolanus came into your room that night. Ready to confess his sins and come clean. His mouth went dry when you opened the door. Your lips stretched into a lazy grin. “Hi, Coryo,” you said, as your hand was on the shirt, getting a grip on the fabric to pull him inside of the room.

“What did you do?” you asked him as you pushed him down onto the bed. You stood at the side, towering over him. Your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I- I didn't do anything,” he said, “I missed you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You fucked up. Real or not?”

“Real,” he muttered.

“Worse than murder?”

Coriolanus winces.

“Do you care about Sejanus?” He asked, hoping that the answer would be in his favor. He could feel his palms sweating, and he pressed his hands onto the sheets.

“No.”

Coriolanus blinks in shock. “No?” He questions, visibly confused, “But- but-”

“Is this about you sending the jabberjays to Dr. Gaul?”

Coriolanus managed a nod. In truth, he had suspected you would find out as Dr. Gaul seems to trust you. Which was one of the main reasons he wanted to come clean beforehand.

You let out a harsh chuckle, “Yeah, Dr. Gaul told me to keep an eye on the boy. I told her he murdered innocent citizens who were against the rebellion. You presented a death warrant to her, I signed it.”

You eye Coriolanus with a smirk. “You should know you can't keep secrets from me, baby,” you shake your head, “I don't know why you try when it's so obvious.”

“Sejanus Plinth and Spruce, the leader of the rebellion, will be dead soon. No need to worry about them, Coryo. Good job, Dr. Gaul is impressed, she sees your potential even more so than before.” you add.

“Is there anything else or…?”

Your eyes turn lustful as you begin to slowly check him out. His heart starts to beat faster, his blood rushing downwards. A tent quickly forms in his pants. It was from your heated gaze alone.

You tease him with a smile, “You're such a boy.”

“Shu- shut up! It's on you- it's because you're looking at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like you'll eat me up,” he replied.

“That's the plan,” you whispered, as you went on your knees in front of him.

He lets out a desperate, needy noise at the sight. You looked so pretty like this. He spreads his legs, making up space for you. You bite your lip in anticipation. Your mouth salivating for his taste.

“Holy shit, dove,” he whines when your hand presses into his bulge. You palm him through his pants.

“So needy,” you murmur. “Do you want my mouth on you that bad?”

“Yes,” he gasps out, willing to beg. “Please.”

“That's a good boy.”

You unzip his pants, dragging them down around his knees. His dick is strained against his boxers. A wet spot on the fabric. It was clear how much pre-cum he was leaking. It was pathetic too. But you didn't blame him for it. You pressed your thumb on his clothed tip, and gently slid your fingertip back and forth, letting his sensitive slit feel the slick texture of the fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses, “Don't tease me.”

“I am not teasing,” you lie.

You pull his boxers down, letting his cock spring free from its confines. The tip is red, the veins on his length popping out, just waiting to be traced with your tongue. You don't let a second go to waste as you let yourself lick his slit. You hold his cock by the base, as you make sure to enjoy his taste like it's a lollipop.

You lick all over, slathering his cock with your saliva. You make sure to trace his veins before you find your way back to his tip. You take his cockhead inside the warmth of your mouth. Coriolanus groans, it took him an iron of will not cum right then and there.

You slowly take more of his length inside and he lets out a whimper. His hand rests on your head, trying so hard not to pull you forward and make you choke on his cock like you were supposed to.

His free hand fists the sheet, as he bites his lower lip to stop a groan from escaping. He could feel that he was getting close to snapping. “Fu-fuck,” he lets out, “Dove… that's so good.”

You continue to suck his cock. You hollow your mouth and he lets out a whimper, his hips bucking up. His cockhead reaches the back of your throat. Surprisingly you don't choke. With a moan of your name, Coriolanus could feel himself cum inside of your mouth.

You taste his salty, thick cum. Letting it coat on your tongue, some of it escapes from the corner of your lips. You pull away as his cock softens and wipe your mouth.

You sit down beside Coriolanus who is trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself in. “Thank you,” he said, “that was good.” You smile at him. Your hand on his cheek. You caress his face.

“You needed to relax, after all, you need to have more blood on your hands,” you said, your smile turning cruel.

“Lucy Gray?” He questions.

“Lucy Gray,” you confirm.

Coriolanus nods, “Yeah, I understand. She will be the only witness left except us.” Coriolanus takes a deep breath. “We'll need to find a way.”

“Let Sejanus die first. I can stay here for a few more days. I'll help you figure it out.”

Coriolanus agrees with you and turns to leave. Before you shut the door, you say to him,

“I was only friends with Sejanus because of you. Because you seemed to be close to him and I wanted to be closer to you.”

After everything, that's not a surprise to him. Though he feels his heart flutter. He falls asleep on his bed with a stupid, lovesick smile, momentarily forgetting about how red his hands are.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The next day Coriolanus was instructed to stand in a squad flanking the hanging tree. Coriolanus knew why. He had already seen Spruce being dragged into the base. Likely to be tortured for information. Coriolanus knew he was protected by you, so there wasn't much to worry about. Sejanus has been missing since morning. He knew what that meant. Dr. Gaul had nailed his coffin.

The Peacekeeper van arrived and both Sejanus and Lil stumbled out in their chains. Sejanus Plinth was accused of treason. He was caught.

Arlo, an ex-soldier toughened by years in the mines, had managed a fairly restrained end, at least until he’d heard Lil in the crowd. But Sejanus and Lil, weak with terror, looked far younger than their years and only reinforced the impression that two innocent children were being dragged to the gallows. Lil, her shaking legs unable to bear her weight, was hauled forward by a pair of grim-faced Peacekeepers who would probably spend the following night trying to obliterate this memory with white liquor.

As they passed him, Coriolanus locked eyes with Sejanus, and all he could see was the eight-year-old boy on the playground, the bag of gumdrops clenched in his fist. Only this boy was much, much more frightened. Sejanus’s lips formed his name, Coryo, and his face contorted in pain. But whether it was a plea for help or an accusation of his betrayal he couldn’t tell.

The Peacekeepers positioned the condemned side by side on the trapdoors. Another tried to read out the list of charges over the shrieks of the crowd, but all Coriolanus could catch was the word treason.

He averted his eyes as the Peacekeepers moved in with the nooses, and he found himself looking at Lucy Gray’s stricken face. She stood near the front in an old gray dress, her hair hidden in a black scarf, tears running down her cheeks as she stared up at Sejanus.

As the drumroll began, Coriolanus squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block out the sound as well. But he could not, and he heard it all. Sejanus’s cry, the bang of the trapdoors, and the jabberjays picking up Sejanus’s last word, screaming it over and over into the dazzling sun.

“Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma!”

Sejanus Plinth is dead.

It's Lucy Gray's turn now.

NEXT PART

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kaylopolis · 2 months

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Fourteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

There is a very important message after the end of the chapter. I will repost it because I know not everyone reads the messages hidden within this post!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight

Content Warning: MINORS DNI!!!!! Mentions of abuse, Smut (let me know if I missed any!)

Alastor was sitting in the Doomsday District when he felt his magic surge. The demon had found a half-destroyed bench to sit upon, the metal twisted upon itself from one of his previous meltdowns. With his head in his hands, Alastor sat and contemplated the past few days - days? Or had it been weeks, months, since you kissed him in Louisiana? His sense of time had no meaning anymore.

“Hello, old pal,” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Vox stood before the Radio Demon, a slick smile on his face as he surveyed the mess with which he had found him in. That was satisfaction enough for the media demon.

Alastor ran his hands through his hair - not to fix it, but to relieve the anger itching beneath his skin. Jumping right from helplessness to anger - he was so easily riled up these days, finding it harder and harder to contain his wrath. He had thought ripping up the Doomsday District would somehow help relieve that, like a slow release of propane from a gas tank about to be set on fire but it hadn’t. He should know better, the last time you had a hold on his emotions he tried the same thing, but to no avail.

“I am not in the mood for one of our little quips today. Go on home -“

And then he felt it. The magic beneath his skin surged, his green aura pulsed, only, it wasn’t his magic which emanated from his skin.

It was blue. It was your magic.

Alarm sparked panic in his chest. This wasn’t a coincidence.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that,” Vox continued, completely unaware of the magic surging through Alastor’s veins.

It smelled of Jasmine.

Fuck.

The media demon flips his phone around to show a picture of you, unconscious and tied to a chair. Vox smirked at the realization growing on Alastor’s face.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Velvette had constructed two false images, including one of you.

“Checkmate,” Vox gloated. “This is how this is going to go-“

Before Vox had a chance to complete his rehearsed speech, Alastor had exploded in a wave of rage - a ball of living fire - except these flames were blue.

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For Alastor, everything changed the second you broke that seal. In that moment, he felt how much power you had. It radiated deep within his bones - even his soul felt it.

You carried a power so potent even Zestial would cower at your feet and - as much as Alastor hated to admit it - even he found himself unnerved around the original Overlord.

Roo. Here you were right in front of him the whole time. Raw power, hidden behind perfect teeth and red lips.

All he had to do was reach out and take it.

And then you leaned over him, had the audacity to leave yourself open. Alastor felt his body move before his mind did, his fingers itching for the handle of Velvette’s blade.

For you, you had proven you would do whatever it takes for power - Hell, you killed Eve for it. And now you had to live with the consequences. Alastor? He hadn’t crossed that line yet - he had no memories of guilt which screamed “No stop! Don’t do this!”

He had the memories of you, however.

Of annoyance.

Of desire.

Of lust.

Of fear.

Of worry.

Of happiness.

Emotions Alastor had not felt in such a long time…

So, why was it so easy to palm that blade and stab it straight into your belly?

Because Alastor was hungry. Like the cannibalistic murderer he is, Alastor has been chasing power long before he died - even so far as selling his soul for a drop more. And when you broke that seal and gave him but a taste of what ran through your veins, it pushed him past hungry, past starvation, the demon was dying and you were the only source of food for miles.

It blinded him - the power consumed his mind completely, directing him towards one prerogative - kill.

You expected this. Why? Because you did the same to Eve. Because you saw it in your father’s eyes every time he beat you.

The allure of power drowns its victim like a ship at sea in a storm.

You’ve seen that barely contained anger in Al before. The warning signs have always been there. How he tried to hold himself back when he’s around you, his demonic form slipping in and out when he sees something that he wants.

It wasn’t Alastor who sank that blade into your belly - it was the hunger for power, the Radio Demon within.

After all, who hasn’t been tempted by power and chaos?

“Absolutely beautiful,” Alastor had said.

Absolutely beautiful…

Absolutely beautiful?

Was he talking about you or the power…?

You broke the kiss. “Ha!” You laughed, the steel hilt deep in your belly. You didn’t even move, didn’t even flinch when Alastor stabbed you. “Oh, Mr. Alastor,” you sang, running your fingers through his bangs.

The demon sat back in his chair, absolutely confused. You’d die of shock seeing such an emotion on his face if you weren’t in the current situation the two of you had unfortunately found yourselves in.

How did Alastor phrase your deal? “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.”

It was a verbal contract - not a written one. So, technically, the exact details weren’t drawn out. The magic was privy to the contractees’ interpretations, and magic works in funny ways.

Remember the dream the night you had your midnight meeting? Remember how Alastor attacked you and you defended yourself with your flames? Remember how it burned his clothes but didn’t hurt him.

That’s where it all began.

Anytime you had summoned your magic or Alastor had summoned his, it not only didn’t hurt you, but it empowered you.

You have stood in his static, have been enshrouded in his magic, and yet you came out unscathed. So why should a blade in his hand, hurt you? How was that any different?

You took the greatest gamble of your life, leaning over Alastor while he sat in that chair, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, knowing that there was a possibility that he could actually kill you. But you’re deal - it wasn’t just a quid-pro-quo, you help me out, I help you out. No, it was more than that…

… Alastor couldn’t harm you.

Which meant he couldn’t kill you.

And so you took the gamble.

You smirked, knowing your red lips did nothing but taunt the demon, “Quid-pro-quo,” You laughed. Grasping the blade, you slid it easily from your belly. You showed him the steel, absent of your blood. At most, the blade merely ripped your leather.

You laugh, “You shook on it.”

A huge fucking gamble, and it had paid off.

You take the blade and stab it directly into his right thigh. The demon didn’t even feel it. Batting your eyelashes, you turn your head like you sometimes see him do when asking a question, “Remember?”

Confusion turns to anger. And for the first time, you are met with a full-fledged Alastor in demonic form. The demon rips the blade from his leg and growls, his ears flattened against his head in irritation.

Oh, you were about to get the fight you have been dying for.

A tentacle wraps itself around your middle and flings you backward across the dirt. Landing on your back, you quickly jump to your feet, preparing for a possible second attack.

Alastor slowly rises from his chair, the knife slipping into his Void, and summons his microphone. He slams the cane against the ground, green sparks exploding from where it makes contact with the dirt before black tentacles emerge from his back.

The demon smiles, his lips threaded with green stitching. His sclera turn black, his antlers elongate, and prongs multiply atop his head. A green glow surrounds the Radio Demon as his body contorts in a series of cracks. Then Alastor begins to grow, the power with which he has gathered now physically represented by his size.

“Ha, ha, ha,” the demon chuckles, his laugh echoing as if through a broken radio. “Let’s begin.”

And then his tentacles lunge, the black tendrils encased in Alastor’s green static. You spin, taking flight. You fly right past the demon, weaving through his flurry of tentacles as you head for Pentagram City.

Alastor is hot on your tail the entire time, and just as you reach the edge, a tentacle wraps itself around your leg and flings you into a nearby abandoned building. Brick and metal come crashing down upon you as the building collapses, pinning you beneath it.

But it doesn’t slow you down. Summoning your blue flame, you set the rubble alight, and, like a newborn phoenix, you rise from the ashes. Only to be attacked by an army of… shadow demons?

Tiny doll-like creatures sewn together from black fabric lunge for your feet. Pulling your sword from the Void, you strike, but the blade does not cut them. Instead, they merely bounce off, like a ball hitting a baseball bat.

What the fuck are these things!?

One jumps for your leg, giggling as it attempts to sink its teeth into your flesh. Although you know it can't hurt you, you still instinctively jump out of its reach, using your wings to gain height. Luckily, the dolls can’t fly, and you watch as they jump beneath you, their arms outstretched as they lick their lips.

Cannibal dolls?

A growl warns you of Alastor’s next attack. You look up fast enough to see a literal car crash into you, the horn breaking as it slams into you. You land, the crumbled car crushing you as you roll down the street. Your wings take most of the impact, shielding your skin from the asphalt. Coming to a stop, you push yourself to your feet, the magic of the Book of Knowledge still surging through your veins. Standing, you face a demonic Alastor, his tentacles, as if legs, running down the street straight for you.

He’s made himself a target, blind with rage, drunk on the pursuit of power. It would be all too easy to summon the power you stole from Eve and turn it against the Radio Demon. You had never used it before, but there was no time like the present to learn.

Yet, as you stood, watching Alastor barrel straight for you, you hesitated.

No. Not because you couldn’t technically hurt him, but because you didn’t want to even try. Something within your chest twisted, stopping you.

You’ve been keening for a fight with him, but… but you couldn’t do it.

Instead, you stood your ground, focusing on the magic thrumming through your veins, and forced the power from the Book of Knowledge back behind its lock. The words disappeared from your skin as Alastor raised his staff.

A clang rang out as metal hit metal, your sword against his microphone. The demon was relentless, his strikes never letting up as he backed you down the street. All you could do was block, your heart not having it in you to strike back. Screams rang out as Sinners finally understood what was going on and fled in fear.

A crazed look in his eye, the demon continued to hack, his strikes sloppy, his weight thrown into every thrust. Technique-wise, he was no match for a skilled warrior such as yourself. You could have easily had him on his ass if you wanted to - but you didn’t.

A tentacle wrapped around your ankle, and as Alastor swiped at you with his staff, he pulled. You landed face first, a smack against concrete, rolling just in time to dodge the blow which was aimed directly at your face. As you rolled, you climbed to your feet and flung yourself out of reach of his next physical attack in one big beat of your wings.

The demon threw his microphone forward, just as he had done every time his tentacles came soaring for you. You readied yourself, prepared for the attack, but his tentacles remained still. The demon looked confused, so he did it again, but again, nothing happened.

He looked at his feet.

Oh, he wasn’t trying to attack you with his tentacles but with his shadow. The demon was commanding Rolf to attack you.

The shadow swirled at his feet, and frowned. Rolf actually frowned and then shook his head in refusal.

Ooooohh, and Alastor was not happy about that.

“Aaaaah!” The Radio Demon screamed as he slammed his staff down.

The ground cracked and broke in half, creating a chasm beneath your feet. You jumped just in time, but not fast enough to miss the Hellfire that was released from the earth. The green flames consumed you as you flew skyward, but, like all of Alastor’s other attacks, it did nothing to you. Soaring, you stopped as you reached the rooftops and got a better understanding of where you were.

You were on the edge of the Magne District and the Bordertown - in other words, you were blocks away from Alastor’s radio tower. As you caught sight of the iron structure, you felt that thing twist in your chest again. So many memories…

Again, the demon went after you, his tentacles propelling him to the rooftop of the building you soared over. His eye twitched, his smile constrained. And as he sent the next round of attacks your way, you felt your will to fight begin to fade. You didn’t dodge as quickly. You didn’t fly with as much vigor.

He wasn’t going to stop. Alastor wasn’t going to stop…

You’re not sure why you did it; perhaps some part of you was still holding on, but you led him right to the radio tower.

Landing on the balcony, you slipped your sword into the Void and waited as Alastor made his way up. The demon came to a stop at the other end of the landing, the lights of Pentagram City your backdrop. You put your wings away, your demon form slipping from you until you were just standing in your ripped leather gear.

There was a gleam in Alastor’s eye as he surveyed you. He thought he had you. God, he looked absolutely mad. You dodged as he swung, staying easily out of his reach as if it were a training exercise. Jesus, you could do this but not dance?

You looked into his eyes as he attacked you, seeing nothing but steel, a raging fire that had consumed him completely.

And that’s when you realized… Despite the contract you had made ensuring your safety, Alastor was still trying to kill you.

And your heart shattered. Your steps faltered, giving Alastor the opportunity to knock you to the ground. You didn’t even try to fight him as he climbed atop you, straddling your waist. The demon pulled Velvette’s blade from the Void, forgoing his microphone completely.

And you let him.

The Radio Demon held the edge to your throat, his entire body seething in anger and frustration at the object of all of his desires just out of reach. So close, yet so far.

“You want this more than you want me…” You whispered.

His mask slipped ever so slightly, his movements freezing as you spoke.

You gritted your teeth, “Fine. Alastor. You want it so badly, enough to kill me for it, then take it. Fucking, take it.”

You were so stupid. How could you think Alastor would be any different? Everyone in your life you’ve ever cared about ends up disappointing you…

“Alastor Hartfelt, I, Mikaela Morningstar, release you from our contract.”

SNAP!

The connection between you was severed.

And almost immediately, you felt warmth on your neck, the edge of the blade digging into your flesh just enough to draw golden blood. Alastor’s eyes were instantly drawn to it. The demon gasped. Something behind his gaze shifted at the realization of what you had just done.

“... And that’s when I decided she was not worthy of your death,” you repeated the words Alastor spoke to you after he saved you from Vox and Velvette, a moment in time when your death had nearly broken him. “No one was. If anyone was going to draw your last breath from these lips, it was going to be me.”

The demon met your gaze, his crazed smile faltering, the fire in his eyes sputtering.

“Make do on that promise, Radio Demon.” Your voice cracked as the tears streamed down the corners of your eyes. “You’d be doing me a fucking favor.”

A favor… because you’d rather be dead than live with the fact that Alastor would kill you for something so trivial as power.

He made you care about him. The way he rescued you from Velvette and Vox, how he dotted over you as you healed. He was killing himself with worry when you collapsed the second time. He made jambalaya from his mother’s recipe and spent hours sitting with you on this balcony, watching the City lights. He was worried when you didn’t eat, running straight to you when he heard. He kissed you as it rained, whispering promises in your ear. The demon danced with you in Mardi Gras, bought you a fucking donut, for crying out loud, and told you things about his mother that he never told anyone else.

Alastor made you fucking care about him, and now he was ripping out your heart and stabbing it with an Angelic blade - literally and metaphorically.

So yes, he’d be doing you a fucking favor because Alastor was killing you either way - slitting your throat was just the much less painful option.

You closed your eyes and waited for death…

You had taken so many lives, and yet you had never thought about your own. You never imagined how you might die because, up until recently, you didn’t know you could.

God, you didn’t know death could be this fucking painful.

Yet, you welcomed it. There was no afterlife for you to look forward to, which was a blessing. You didn’t have to live with this weight anymore, this burden of existence, of the trauma and torture you have been put through. Finally, you could just cease to be…

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The moment the golden blood trickled from your neck, Alastor’s mind flashed to the night you killed Val.

The demon had stalked you from the shadows, having heard the explosion all the way from the Doomsday District. He watched from the darkness as you burned Valentino from the inside out, absolutely mesmerized.

And then Velvette ran her blade across your chest, and golden liquid spewed from the wound onto the concrete. Alastor had never moved so fast in his life. In a blur, he summoned a tentacle and threw a car at Velvette and Vox, stopping them only momentarily but long enough. Then he was at your feet.

SNAP! The golden liquid disappeared, and Ralph shadowed you to the Nothing.

Alastor’s heart rammed so hard against his chest he could hear nothing else, think nothing else as he collected you in his arms. The Radio Demon had never really known true fear before, even as he died he wasn’t afraid. Such a foreign feeling… He didn’t know how to process it. It left his mind blank, his lungs devoid of air, his body aimless as he forced himself to move.

And then you were on his bed, your golden blood pouring into his red satin sheets. Rolf acted on his own, immediately taking off for Cannibal Town without Alastor even having to command him. The demon collapsed to his knees at the edge of the bed, forcing his claws to untie the dark cloak around your neck, but his damn fingers wouldn’t work! He was shaking so much…

“Oh, my stars!” Rosie melted from the floor, curlers in her hair and wrapped in a pink bathrobe. “Alastor, what is…” She caught sight of you on the bed and the Overlord in full panic next to you.

Alastor turned to her, desperation swimming in his eyes as he managed to utter two words, “Help me.”

____________________________________________

“Alastor,” Rosie set a steaming cup of tea before him - chai - but Alastor didn’t move to drink it. He couldn’t even pick up the cup. It reminded him too much of the coffee you made him, how you flavored it with chai leaves. It reminded him too much of you. Of the beautiful woman held together by nothing but thread in the next room.

Rosie lay a hand on his arm, moving slowly so as not to startle the demon. He had calmed down immensely but was still shaken up. “Tell me what happened.”

“She went after Valentino,” He swallowed dryly.

“Sweetheart, that’s not what I’m asking. I can see the destruction of the Tower from your window. I’m asking what happened to you. I’ve never seen you like that before.” The demon prodded carefully.

Rosie had asked about you before - attempting to pry information from Alastor. It’s not that she was spying on you. She didn’t need to do that. You told her everything. She wanted to know what Alastor thought of you. A matchmaker from the very beginning - from the moment you stepped foot into her Emporium and ran right into Alastor.

Alastor looked down at the cup, the leaves of tea swimming around the steaming liquid. “I don’t know. All I know is… It hurt… I hurt…”

Rosie cooed, “And why do you think that is?”

Alastor was speechless. Nothing coming to mind. He honestly didn’t understand what was happening to him. Why he was feeling the way that he was feeling. He’s never felt so utterly helpless and honestly couldn’t understand why.

“Darling, let me ask you, cannibal to cannibal, what is the most important organ in the body?” Rosie smiled, her teeth wickedly sharp.

Of course, Alastor picked the brain - so iconic and representative of his character.

Rosie giggled. “Oh no, I think my late husband is evidence enough of that. No, dear, it’s the heart. Something so vital that keeps us alive, and yet one tiny little nick and you bleed out and die. And dying hurts, let me tell you.” She shrugged, sipping her tea.

Rosie let Alastor stew on this for a moment before clearly spelling it out for the Overlord. “You are hurting because the Vees went after your heart.”

____________________________________________

CLANG!

Your eyes fluttered open to find Alastor looking back at you, tears in eyes of his own. His chin trembled as he cupped your cheeks. Alastor had dropped the blade, the steel clattering between the cracks in the balcony flooring before falling to the street below.

The demon’s forehead came to rest on your own as his demonic form receded, his green aura fading. “... a drop more might break me.” His voice shook, his words absent of his radio static, his Louisiana accent slipping through. “Rarely am I wrong about something.” He chuckled through a sob. “I just didn’t think it would be by my hand.”

“Alastor…?” You searched his eyes for an explanation.

“My darling.” A breath. “Ma cherie.” Another. “Mon couer.” Another. “My heart.”

Alastor’s eyes were glassy. “One cannot live without their heart.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Was he saying what you think he was saying?

“You choose me?” You asked, hope sparking in your chest.

The demon smiles softly. “I choose you, mon couer. I choose you…”

You smiled as you grabbed Alastor by his shirt and pulled him in. Your mouths crashed together.

You can taste the relief on his lips, the solace evident with each swipe of his tongue. Finally, you could allow yourself to simply enjoy the taste of him. Finally, you could simply not think and only feel - no longer weighed down by the troubles plaguing your mind every time he grew close to you.

He knew your name.

He knew your secret.

He knew your power.

He knew everything.

And he had chosen you.

Nothing held the two of you back now, not emotionally or physically.

Alastor broke the kiss, already panting, his chest heaving as it matched yours, “How are your injuries?” His eyes roamed you, searching for active bleeding.

You smirked, “I’m in perfect health thanks to you,” you pulled the collar of your leather gear aside to reveal the injury Velvette gave you, the skin now pink and scarred over.

Alastor ran a finger across the mark, making you shiver beneath him.

You had much to figure out today, but it could wait.

The demon smiled, “Good,” he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I believe I made some promises to you that I intend to keep.”

Alastor dipped lower, and you gasped as his tongue connected with your skin. Alastor traced the outline of the cut on your neck. His forked tongue lapped the golden liquid, not letting a single drop escape. When his lips were wet and sweet with your blood, he leaned back far enough only for you to see his eyes, his pupils blown, “You’re mine,” he breathed.

Your body shuddered in what might have been a sob, a cry in joy as his lips found yours.

Finally. Fucking, finally.

You expected the kiss to be gentle - soft - a kiss that could take its time. After all, you had plenty of that now. But Alastor had warned you - he was not gentle. You moaned into his mouth, the iron tang of your blood on your lips as he crashed into you. The kiss was powerful, threatening to drown you in him completely.

The demon scooped you up in one fluid motion before you were shadowed into his bedroom and placed on red silk sheets.

The demon had his jacket off, never breaking your connection, before crawling up on you. The demon pushed you back, laying you out on the platter of red, his own personal feast. He pressed himself into you, one leg between your thighs, and you instinctively arched as his warmth soaked into your bones, as he hardened against you.

Alastor broke the kiss to run his tongue up your cheek, licking the golden liquid that had bled from your now-healed cheek. The demon moaned, his dick throbbing in his pants in response. You took the opportunity to find the buttons of his red suit jacket, popping open the three buttons before diving into the ones on his collared shirt.

There was something so intimate about undressing him. You could - if you had wanted to - magicked the clothes away, but where was the fun in that? There were layers to Alastor’s outfit, layers you wanted to peel back one by one; it was a privilege to do so. In a way, you felt like you had earned that privilege, and you were going to take advantage of every moment of it.

Al pulled back, surveying your face. He ran a hand through your silver locks as they splayed out across his sheets, pushing it aside from your neck where bruises once decorated your skin. His eyes lit up, almost as if they were screaming, mine, all mine, before his lips found your neck.

Oh, if you thought his kisses were intense before, it was nothing compared to now. Alastor held nothing back, his canines nipping at your skin till he drew blood. The pain was a beautiful burn that made your head dizzy. His tongue licked away the gold, soothing the erotic pain pooling in your core. You gasped as his hands found your hips and tugged.

He wanted your clothes off.

SNAP!

Your leathers disappeared, leaving behind nothing but your bra and underwear. The armor didn’t have zippers or ties, it wasn’t meant to be slipped on and off, but you wanted Alastor to undress you. You wanted to feel his claws as they scraped across your skin and slid your underwear down your legs…

Alastors hand found the waistband of your underwear. The demon chuckled against your neck, after stealing a glance. “Such a naughty little thing.”

You may have changed into your favorite pair of undergarments, a dangerous matching set of silk. All in red, just for him.

Alastor bit your neck, hard, not a full on bite, but a nibble that made you gasp. You arched up into him, his knee between your thighs. With one hand thrusted into your hair, the other went to your bra, to cup the swell of your breast.

The demon had perfectly sized hands, your breasts a matching handful. You cried out as he squeezed. Goosebumps rise on your skin as the demon’s mouth travels south, his lips trailing to the swell of your breasts. His claws scraped across your skin, finding the strap of the garment and slowly lowered it over your shoulder. You arched, prompting him to slide both hands behind your back as he smiled up at you, his eyes promising to do terribly wonderful things to you.

Then your bra was off, and his mouth was on your breast, and he sucked, his tongue flicking your nipple. You plunged your fingers into his hair, wrapping them around his locks. Your finger lightly brushed his ears, and the demon growled, his mouth on your breast, his hips bucking instinctively.

Alastor pulled back despite your bark of protest - that turned into a gasp as the demon backed off the bed, wrapped his arms around your hips, and tugged. He yanked you to the edge before violently ripping off your underwear.

Your cheeks heated as Alastor kneels before you, his face mere inches from your heat as he hooks your legs over his shoulders.

He was kneeling. The all and powerful Alastor Hartfelt was on his knees for you. No one would ever believe you…

And then he sinks two fingers inside you, all the way up to his first knuckle. You cry out, your breath stuck in your throat as your nails dig into his sheets. He slides his fingers out slowly, then shoves in hard again, practically pushing you back up the bed.

“Oh, my - Al!”

Alastor cuts you off with his mouth, his tongue licking your clit and setting you on fire. Instinctively, your toes curl, and your body pulls in on itself, but Alastor’s claw digs into the meat of your hip, keeping you spread open as he thrusts his fingers in again, his mouth feasting on your juices.

Digging your nails in tighter, you swear you rip the fabric, trying to hold on.

The demon chuckles as your next gasp turns into a moan. God, it was like Alastor was punishing you, dominating you, a relentless force pent on overpowering you in every sense of the word.

You swore you'd never bow before another again, never let another command you, but for Alastor, you'd gladly fall to your knees if he asked.

The pressure was starting to build. Fuck, the last time this happened, you leveled a building.

“Alastor,” you choked out.

But the demon didn’t stop, didn’t even come up for air. Alastor pulls his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them fully in.

“Al-”

The demon glares at you, a gleam in his eye. He wanted to push you over the edge and was not going to stop, no matter what.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

He picks up the pace, his fingers constantly roaming in and out, his mouth working in tandem quickly working you up towards your climax.

Your head is gone now, your breathes in gasps with each pump of his fingers, each swipe of his tongue. The demon bites down on your clit between his upper teeth and lower lip. A wave of pain has you teetering.

“Al!” You scream as, on the last thrust, Alastor curls his fingers, hitting that wonderful bundle of nerves that has you flying over the edge. You arch up as spasms overcome your body, as Alastor continues to pump and continues to ride you through your high.

Be damned if you burned this place to the ground. It was worth it.

Your inner walls clench around his fingers, your entire body tensing up. Heat floods through you as you pant, breathless and dizzy.

Alastor doesn’t stop until your back finds the sheets again, until your twitching has slowed, and your breathing has normalized.

This entire thing feels like a dream as Alastor stands, untucks his shirt, and takes off his belt.

“No,” you squeak out, your body and mind numb with pleasure.

Alastor freezes.

“I want to,” you practically beg, reaching out a hand.

The demon chuckles, his face in his hands.

Wait.

You sit up, your mind sobering as you whip your gaze across the room. “It’s not on fire?”

Alastor’s smile kicks up in a sideways grin, “It’s not.”

You shoot him a questioning look. You don’t know how this is happening, but you know Alastor had something to do with it. A rune? Some sort of mark in his Voodoo?

The demon answers your question with a chuckle as he climbs atop you. Alastor’s arms frame your face, his smile lighting up yours as he towers over you. His locks were like a halo of red around his face, his antlers a few prongs larger than you remember.

You’re so captivated by a half shirtless Alastor towering over you that you completely forget what you were supposed to do.

He pauses, his breath hot on your lips, “well?”

Well? Oh! Yes.

Hesitantly, your fingers find his belt as you continue what he had started. Your heart is ramming against your chest, your hands suddenly very sweaty. Get it together. He’s made you orgasm twice now. You’re sitting beneath him, in his bed, wearing nothing. Why were you so nervous?

You paused at the button of his pants.

“Al, I… I’ve never…” You met his gaze and hoped your eyes communicated the rest of what you were trying to say.

His cheeks turned pink, “We move at your pace, mon couer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was giving you time for your mind to catch up with the rest of you.

First, thing’s first…

You force your fingers to move again and help him slide his shirt off. And then you don’t want to stop touching him. Alastor was so soft, the short fur along his torso and arms like the down coat of a fawn. It was longer around his chest, producing a fluff you were already making plans for. To spend your night sleeping on his chest…

You traced his scars, each old and grey, marking his beautiful ashen skin. Then you found the mark over his chest, the run of Transformare just over his heart. You traced the outline of it.

“My favorite one,” he smiled.

And that gave you the bravery to continue on. You shot up, your lips crashing into his as your fingers undid the button of his pants and began to tug down. Alastor laid you back out as he pulled off his pants and underwear in one swoop.

You gasped as the demon pressed onto you, his cock perfectly lining up with your folds. The demon ground his hips against you, coating his shaft in your juices, hitting your throbbing clit. Your mouth went dry at the sheer size of him. You wanted him, wanted every glorious inch of him in you.

And then you're drowning again as he kisses you, his thrusts harder and faster as he grinds atop you, Alastor the ocean wave which was pulling you deeper and deeper. And you gladly drowned. He rocks back on his hips, stealing the heat of his cock before he lines himself up, his tip pressing against your opening, and pauses.

He was waiting for you.

In response, you wrapped your legs around his thin waist. They sat perfectly at the crest of his hips, almost as if they were made for you, for this. The demon growled as you kissed him, and you laughed.

And then he slid in. And in. And in. Until his hips were flush with yours. Your nails dug into the muscle of his back, making the demon growl.

Jesus, he had your eyes watering; it was like your body forgot how to breathe. He stilled, letting you adjust.

“Are you alright?” Alastor was out of breath, his voice raspy and absent of static, as his forehead found yours, clearly bombarded with the same wave of emotions you had been.

You nod as you pull him down on top of you. You wanted to feel Alastor, to feel his warmth, to feel his chest heaving against yours, to feel the muscles in his abbs as he thrusts into you. You have been starved for touch for so long that you have become desperate - desperate and greedy.

The demon moved slowly, pulling out slightly before pressing back in. His hips stuttered, “Satan,” he choked. “You’re tight.”

Again, he pulled back, then thrust in. The demon fisted one hand in your hair, the other coming to rest behind your thigh, giving himself leverage as he moved.

And as Alastor moved, his forehead on yours as you kissed, your breath building as you huffed through your noses, it became easier. It became pleasurable. It became faster, deeper.

It made you hungry for more.

“Fuck me,” you breathe between moans. “Fuck me, Alastor.”

A fire sparks in his eyes as his hands sink to your ass. The demon has your legs wrapped around him, and off the bed, your back pressed against the wood head rest as he fills you. Every inch, every hard ridge. Alastor’s teeth find your bottom lip, and he bites down as he slams into you with enough force, that the bed shakes.

Your moan is on the edge of a scream as blood fills your mouth. Alastor’s tongue laps at your lips, at your tongue, devouring the tangy liquid flooding your mouth and dribbling down your chin. The cannibal is determined not to waste a single drop as he feasts. You wrap your arms around his neck and hang on for dear life, your nails digging into his skin, just exciting him even more.

There is nothing gentle about the Radio Demon - no wonder he wanted to wait, no wonder he held himself back all those nights ago. He surely would have split you in two had you begged him to try.

But it would have been so worth it.

Your veins sang beneath your skin with the build of your climax, your heart beating in time with Alastor’s.

The demon released a hand to find your clit, circling as he thrusts. Immediately, you’re toeing the edge, your moans choked screams, as Alastor picks up the pace, sweat licking your bodies.

Alastor’s claws dig into the meat of your hip as pulls you down on him with every thrust, as he buries himself over and over again, the tip of his cock brushing the entrance of your cervix. You’re there, you’re at the edge…

“I’m close!” You breathe, every edge of you burning with pleasure. You’re so wet, you’re dripping down his balls as he sinks into you.

Not yet. No. You want to linger. You want to savor this. Every second of it.

And then Alastor’s lips find your neck, and he bites. The pain sends you over the edge, and you scream as the orgasm tears through your body. Alastor continues to pound into you, hard and fast, drawing out your pleasure. The demon grows harder, more frenzied with his movements, and then he’s roaring as he slams into you to the hilt, spilling inside you.

Alastor growls as his dick throbs against your clenching inner walls, milking him of every last drop. And then Alastor slows as he collapses into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he slowly thrusts in and out, his body spasming with pleasure.

And then there is silence, interrupted only by your panting breaths.

When your souls finally return to your bodies, you take Alastor’s face in yours. The dreamy, drunk look on his face has your heart soaring. No one has ever seen Alastor like that. You’ve earned the privilege to see him like this.

Alastor rocks in and out of you in slow, languid thrusts, like he’s savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Mon couer,” he breathes before he kisses you, long and slow.

You giggle, just as high as him, “mine.”

The demon freezes, giving you a look as if he didn’t hear you right.

“I choose you, too, Alastor. You’re mine.” You beam before kissing him. His mouth is unmoving for a second before he kisses you back. The demon digs his hips into you, sinking his head in till it hits your cervix - you swear to God!

The demon lays you back down on the bed.

“I’m yours,” he smiles against your lips, and then he swallows your gasp as he thrusts again. “I’m yours, mon couer, only yours.”

Alastor’s mouth trails down your jaw, across the bruises forming on your throat. You moan when his tongue finds the bite, the mark he used to claim you, the soreness that now represents everything. The demon uses his tongue to outline the mark, the golden blood now clotting.

With the taste of you on his lips, the demon was growing hard again, his dick throbbing inside of you as he stroked slowly.

This time is different. This time Alastor is slow, his fingers bunching in your hair but not tearing, his lips kissing you deeply, his mouth drunk on your taste. You breathed Alastor in as your tongue lazily played with his, as your hips moved in time with his strokes.

This wasn’t just him claiming you. This was Alastor promising you. This was him pledging to be yours and only yours, to be all the things he was scared of being, to devote his very being in honor of you.

And you could feel it. You could feel his growing desire. It wasn’t just in the pounding of his heart or the way his breath quickened as it mixed with yours but somehow sank into your bones.

If your magic could be summoned as it had whenever Alastor’s lips were on yours, the colors of your magic would be singing right now. Their masterpiece a demonstration of the vow he was making you.

You let your hands wander over every hard ridge of him. Outlining his pecs, the defined abbs on his torso, the strength in his shoulders. To his cut jawline and soft hair. You played with his locks as Alastor continued to thrust in you, your quick breaths turning to moans.

It was slow, it was passionate, it was intense.

Alastor breaks the kiss to decorate your neck, marking his territory, the bruises proof that this was real. Your gaze falls to where the two of you are connected, his shaft pulling away with both of your juices, turning his dick white with cum.

Oh, God the way he filled you with his cum…

You clench around him at the memory of the feeling, making the demon’s hips stutter, eliciting a growl that vibrates from his chest through yours.

You can’t help but smile as you kiss him. The power you had over him, over his body…

Alastor responds by thrusting harder.

CRACK!

The bed breaks, and the next thing you know, the two of you are rolling off the side. Alastor takes the brunt of the fall, pulling you into him as his back smacks against the wooden floor.

“Al, are you -?”

The demon interrupts your question with a laugh. It was so genuine and absent of his usual radio static that it catches you off guard before you’re laughing right along with him.

And then the two of you realize something: you were on top.

You blink at each other a moment, registering what this means, but Alastor doesn’t make an attempt to move you. Instead, he grabs your hips and guides you up and down his cock. It’s awkward at first - you’ve literally never done this before - but you eventually find a rhythm that has the two of you moaning all over again.

Regardless of the position, Alastor was still in control, which was a relief - your lack of experience was frankly embarrassing.

You dig your fingers into his fluff, using it as leverage as you bounce up and down. You can feel the wetness pooling out of you and dribbling down his cock.

From this position you could fully appreciate Alastor, disheveled and overwhelmed by you. His chest is heaving, his hips bucking up into you, deepening the muscles on his torso.

God, it was a beautiful sight.

The demon reaches up and wraps his fist in your hair before using it to pull your lips down to his. His claws dig into your other hip as his thrusts quicken, as he pounds into you.

And then he’s spilling into you all over again, his warm seed filling you and then sliding down his cock. The orgasm surprises you, overtaking your body without warning.

God, the feeling of being filled was enough to drive you over the edge.

You collapsed on Alastor, your face in the fluff of his chest as he thrust, your orgasm milking every ounce of his seed.

And when his hips finally slowed, Alastor collapsed fully, his hands coming to rest in your hair and on your back. The two of you lay there for a long time, not minding the mess you had just made, your minds and bodies too numb to fully comprehend anything but the aftershock of pleasure.

You breathed him in, letting his scent of forest and musk prolong your ecstasy. The room danced in the flavor of warm vanilla, evidence of what you had just done wafting out the slightly ajar back door. The curtains were down, so no one could see in.

When Alastor somehow found the ability to move again, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Mon couer?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, dreamily snaking your head up to meet his half-lidded gaze through your curtain of hair. You were sleepy and oh-so-content. You could fall asleep right there on the floor and sleep for days if he let you.

“How about a bath?” As if on cue, the sound of a faucet turning creaked from the bathroom. Running water could be heard echoing through the tile walls.

You giggled, nodding.

Slowly, Alastor pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden empty feeling, the loss of warmth that was purely Alastor filling your core. It was a feeling you were instantly missing.

The demon carried you to the tub, now steaming and filled with bubbles. He gently sat you in before climbing in behind you, letting you lay against him as he washed you.

The fluff on his chest was like a pillow as you lay there, drowning in the scent of his shampoo. It was like being on sensory overload, except the only sense was Alastor.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alastor took his time massaging your limbs, easing the tension from your muscles. He inspected every healed cut and new scar he had never seen before until he was satisfied that you were fine and really and truly in one piece. He even took the time to wash your hair, his claws scraping against your scalp as he scrubbed. You hummed in delight, bringing a genuine smile to Alastor’s face.

The wash was more cathartic for Alastor than it was for you. For him, he needed this. After you almost died, he needed to see you be strong again. He needed to see you at your highest before he could heal from seeing you at your lowest. And, as if to solidify it in his brain that this wasn’t a dream, and you were really and truly alive, he needed to inspect you himself - and he also did get satisfaction at seeing the new marks which he had left on your body. The slowly darkening bruises and bites he had left behind…

The narcissist…

When he finished with you, he washed himself. You were practically asleep when he finished - although he did do his best not to disturb you as much as he could. The demon slowly slid out from behind you to grab you a towel. It took some coaxing, but he finally got you to stand on your own as he wrapped you in the soft cotton.

When you returned to bed, you found it perfectly made, with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. The foot on his bed frame had snapped during your endeavors, but Alastor had it repaired while you bathed. You’d sleep soundly in a level bed tonight.

Soft jazz clicked on as Alastor tucked you in before sliding in himself. You curled into the demon, who had crawled into bed with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, immediately seeking his warmth.

Alastor rarely slept, but today was an exception…

With your head on his chest, your feet tangled in his, and his arms wrapped around you, you felt complete.

And the two of you dozed off into slumber to the words of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.”

Okay, Hoteliers, why did I do this? Why not have Alastor never attack Mikaela in the first place? Why didn’t he just drop the knife and kiss her, and then I write a chapter filled with some seriously overdo smut? Because there was still one thing about Alastor that had not been challenged yet - in the fanfic and in canon. Yes, Alastor had fallen for the reader, but there was still this giant thing hanging over their heads that they did not address, which needed to be hit upon in order for the two of them to finally accept their feelings for each other. What would Alastor do if something/someone he loved more than power stood in the way of him achieving it? You, as Mikaela, already made that decision when you killed Eve - you’d do anything. Yet, deep down, you knew you couldn’t do it to Alastor - you, as the reader, had decided that without me even having to write it. You were literally screaming in the comments about it as you read chapter thirteen.

Yet Alastor had never been asked that question. So we needed to see what he would do. Given the opportunity, he needed to be forced to choose, and he needed to see that that choice would have consequences. That's why I needed Alastor to stab you, to go after you, to draw blood. Why go to such lengths? Because Alastor is a stubborn, stubborn man, and changing him would not be an easy thing to do, especially when it is something so central to his character. I mean, he's a cannibalistic murderer; how much more literal does Viv need to get about his desire to consume power? Being forced to choose was not only about you but about him as well. In the writing business, we call it ~character development~.

So no, I couldn't simply have Alastor drop the knife and whisk you away into a fairytale. This moment, this part of Alastor, posed an obstacle for me: a giant wall preventing me from continuing on. I needed Alastor to grow, to unlock that part of himself that let you in, choose you over everything else, and for him to accept that.

Don't worry, we still have more to go - they still have to learn why they are both at the Hotel, what their involvements are with Lilith, and what Mikaela’s big endgame actually is, but that stuff is trivial compared to their cannibalistic desire for power - especially considering Mikaela is Roo, the embodiment of it. I mean, that’s how this fanfic all started, right? “Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” And I think it’s important to remember that because it will be a theme through to the end of this fic.

<3 Stay smutty Hoteliers - smut is coming next chapter. You’ve earned it ;)

-> Chapter Fifteen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you want to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

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maple-the-awesome · 5 months

Text

The Chain Meets You, His Partner || 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2

Pairing: Time, Wild, Four x GN! Reader

Requested by @temporarilyablog: i see requests are open still so im coming to you with a thought i had recently:how about a Link from the Chain interacting with the reader, another Link’s s/o from their original adventures, when *their* Link isn’t around. i can see some teasing another Link with the reader that they’ve only known through little stories here and here, or others grilling the reader relentlessly because another Link was so shy about their relationship and partner, and wants to know how that Link is like around someone he allows himself to relax.its kinda like when the Chain met Malon for the first time and interacted with her for stories about old man Timeand as always stay awesome, i love your writing!

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Concerningly delighted or eerily eager - the Chain can’t quite agree on which descriptor best described their teammate the best once he realized they had all landed in his Hyrule. Bubbling with excitement ever since while maintaining a pace some of the other boys have to jog after, Link doesn’t waste breath saying where he’s leading them, although that giddy smile upon his face - as much as he tries to hide it - is plenty for the wiser heroes to get the hint…

The Chain already knew about you - Well, they knew the Old Man was hitched. To exactly who, he'd never say for his lips were always sealed with a mischievous smirk that kept the boys betting against each other.

Some insisted that their leader's mystery lover must be Princess Zelda, but Twilight felt that was a preposterous assumption. He tended to agree with Legend's guess that they had to be someone simple; someone who could make an extraordinary man feel ordinary in the best way possible...which was the correct prediction, of course.

As it would turn out, you are, in fact, not a noble or royal princess. Instead, you're an average farmhand living a calm life on your friend's ranch where you miss your husband greatly after many months of him being gone, so please excuse the passionate kiss shared between you both once finally reuniting at the front of the property.

Time isn't at all shy to show you off. Having been married for so many years, it's only natural for his arm to feel most comfortable wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his side where he can easily connect kisses to your forehead and cheek. If the boys have a problem with it, it's best not to spoil the mood. Perhaps one day they'll understand the intoxicating love that is felt whenever in the presence of their most beloved.

"You just missed Malon and Talon. They went into town for a few deliveries and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," You explain to your husband while leading the boys to the house. He hums thoughtfully and you don't miss the way he 'subtly' tugs you even closer.

"It’s good timing on our part then. 'wouldn't want to leave you stuck doing all the chores on your own."

"Now Link, you've been off on the road for months. Rest and I'll -"

"- Is there anything I could help with?" A young man from the group pipes in shyly from behind, "I grew up on a ranch myself, so it wouldn't be any bother."

"Oh, no. You boys are our guests. I'd hate to -" You begin, turning to face him with an appreciative smile, however Time is quick to object.

"- Nonsense. They're all capable young men and boys. A little work won't kill them, darling."

"- But -"

"- And it won't kill me, either," He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss upon your knuckles, "If anything, we could all use the distraction."

"...Well, in that case..."

There is plenty to be done around the farm and you only have two hands of your own, so, aware that you wouldn't win an argument against your husband anyways, you take him up on his offer. The other heroes do seem more than willing, happy to provide their services for tasks that don't involve risking their lives against cruel monsters, you know, minus the cuccos.

Time and you each take four of the boys with yourselves. While he directs his half to the animals they'll be tending to, you lead yours to the barn, making sure to point out the layout of the ranch along the way so that none get lost when left on their own.

You're happy to find that they're all very polite, particularly the young man from earlier who remains close on your heels throughout each step. He seems adorably eager to engage in conversation with you, asking many questions and adding comments to whatever you say. It makes sense, you suppose, since he certainly does look to be the small homestead-type based upon his build and knowledge of ranch life.

"You said this is your friend’s ranch. How long have you lived here yourself?”

"Gosh, 'seems like forever. At least since I was ten. It wasn't long before I met Link, I know that."

"You guys have really known each other for that long?"

"Uh-huh...but of course, it doesn't feel that long," You sigh fondly, "'seems like just yesterday we were sitting out there in that pasture as he told me about his home in the forest and all his adventures…Funny how time flies when you're havin' fun."

Speaking of the devil, you spot your husband at the pasture's fence, clearly waiting for you to finish up. Inviting the boys to find you if they have any questions, you leave them to work on the chores they've been assigned while you, yourself, head to join Time.

"Did they give you any trouble?"

"None at all. By the way you made it sound in your letters, I thought they'd be far more troublesome," You cross your arms over the fence, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin, "But maybe you’ve just been too harsh on them."

"You've only spent a few hours with them. Give ‘em a chance and you'll start going gray, too," He rolls his eye, his lack of amusement towards your playful accusation telling you that those boys really must be a handful sometimes. Either way, deny it as he might, you know that look in his eye. Even as he leans here on the fence next to you, he watches the boys work with a softness hidden in his expression. He certainly cares for them.

"...You know, one of them is a descendant of ours," Time mentions casually, breaking you away from your straying thoughts.

"What?" When you look at him, he's still facing the distance, "...You're joking?"

He just smirks, only glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

"You're serious...?" You blink in disbelief before quickly pushing yourself off the fence, "Which one?!"

"Isn't it obvious?"

You place your hands upon your hips, making your own lack of amusement clear now, "There's eight of them. At least give me a hint."

Time pretends to consider your request, but ultimately shakes his head, "...No, I don’t think so. That would ruin the fun of having you guess."

"Liiinnk..." You whine, although even your pout proves ineffective. Your husband merely chuckles as he pushes himself off the fence and begins walking away to resume his chores, "You better not be lying to me!”

"I would never lie to you, my love. I know better than that~"

"I'm going to find out which one it is even if I have to interrogate them all!" You shout after him, huffing when he doesn't reply.

Part of you is tempted to do exactly as you said by confronting each boy until you receive a proper answer, but you also promised the Champion you'd show him the kitchen to start dinner soon. You'd hate to keep him and everyone else waiting with rumbling stomachs, especially if one of them is your descent in question.

Now truthfully, you do already have a guess in mind - or more so a hope - however it's too early to decide. You'll just have to keep a close eye on them until this evening and if no one sticks out then, you'll be left to force it out of your husband who should really know better than to mess with you like this.

"Hey, I'm back!" It doesn't matter how long he's been away - days, weeks, months - those three words always seem to take a massive amount of weight off of Wild's chest every time, washing over him with a sense of belonging and domestic bliss that replaces all the strict expectations set for being a 'hero'.

"Link!" This feeling is easily reinforced after one look at you. Your glowing smile as you appear at the railing upstairs, his name sounding like honey from your lips…It's automatic for him to drop his heavy bags and weapons beside the door before opening his arms at the bottom of the steps just in time for you to jump over those last few right into his embrace which you’ve both missed so much.

"...Welcome home..." Sometimes that whisper in his ear is enough to make Wild cry. It's such a pleasant sound and reminder that he does, in fact, have a home because as much as he loves sleeping under the stars or following his heart across the vast kingdom of Hyrule, there will never be a day where it doesn't yearn to be beside you.

It's a cute scene to witness - two lovers reunited after so long apart - although the Chain does have a few questions swirling in their minds, namely who the heck are you? A pretty face just casually leaping into the Champion's arms before sharing a heartfelt kiss? They'd be happy for the guy if not for the fact that he has never once mentioned having a lover and you seem far too well acquainted to be a random friend.

"O-Oh, um, hi," You finally take notice of your audience, breaking away from Wild to send them all an awkward smile which they return, some with a few small waves.

“Oh, these are the guys I’ve been traveling with,” Wild explains, which seems to put you more at ease.

“Nice to meet you all,” You give the group a bashful nod before introducing yourself. Your name does sound vaguely familiar - perhaps having been mentioned in mere passing at some point or another - but the Chain still can’t say they recall Wild ever identifying you as a partner.

“And are you guys…Um…?” Sky gestures between you both, trying to keep his smile from seeming too surprised. He’d hate to offend either of you.

“We’re dating,” You confirm comfortably, looking at Wild with a smile he mirrors as your hands interlock.

“Dating? As in romantically involved, right?” Four raises an eyebrow, his question catching you off guard.

“Y-Yes, well, I believe that’s what dating entails -”

“- How’d you manage that?” Legend interrupts, the question directed at Wild while pointing to you with a look of disbelief upon his face. Apparently he doesn’t share Sky’s concern towards delivering any offense…

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It’s just - You never mentioned being in a relationship,” Hyrule mumbles.

Wild is quick to blush and duck his head in embarrassment, his words defensive, “It’s not like any of you asked! I - I just never thought it was important to bring up! It never seemed relevant!”

“He mentioned it to me,” Twilight admits, taking everyone’s attention off the flustered Champion, but only temporarily.

“See! I could’ve said something and you just didn’t listen! Did you think of that?”

“Or you only told the rancher. You two are always sharing dirty little secrets and leaving the rest of us in the dark.”

This…goes on for a good moment. Rest assured, the argument does eventually subside after Time knocks their heads together allowing you a chance to swiftly change the subject by inviting the boys fully inside your lovely home. From there, you offer to get started on lunch, figuring it will be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know the other heroes better and spend some quality time with your boyfriend who is always quick to relax in the kitchen.

You begin chopping some vegetables while he gets the soup base shimmering, the two of you humming quietly amongst yourselves as you work. Your tranquil smiles and practiced teamwork is enough to make anyone feel jealous of such a strong relationship, although it’s all in good spirits. The other boys hold no resentment towards their friend, instead reflecting his joy as they eagerly tell you stories about their shared adventures in return for some information about yourself.

As it turns out, you’ve grown up in Hateno your whole life and had met Wild rather early in the beginning of his quest to defeat Calamity Ganon. He must’ve made quite the first impression - that or perhaps you took a lot of pity upon his confused state - because you willingly left your small village to help him navigate an unfamiliar Hyrule. Over the course of your journey, you grew close and never really found a good reason to leave each other’s sides even after the kingdom was saved, thus you’ve been together ever since.

“This house had been abandoned for years before we bought it. It’s nice because it’s still a part of Hateno, so we’re close to other people and my family, but far enough back to have our own peace and quiet,” You explain in a dreamy sigh as you turn to look over your home and admire the work you’ve done to this old place.

“What’s with the construction back there?” Four asks, nodding his head towards the many boxes and tools that block the wall under the staircase.

“We’re adding another room,” Wild answers simply, not taking his attention away from the soup broth that he frowns at because it’s certainly missing something. More salt rock? Maybe a dash of Hylian herb?

Legend scoffs, leaning back against his chair at the table, “How much space do two people really need?”

Wild and you pause, glancing over your shoulders to meet each other’s eyes before going back to your work with flustered smiles. Clearing your throat, you give a shrug, “...Well, the plan is for it to not just be the two of us forever.”

Many of the boys raise eyebrows at this comment, the realization slowly but surely daunting on them. Their faces explode in shades of red once it does.

Time coughs into his fist, the first to break the silence, "...We'll be sure not to keep the Champion away from you for too long then."

Wild nearly gives himself whiplash looking back at Time with what can only be described as a modified expression of betrayal, his face beet red and mouth agape in shock. You'd be lying to say your own face doesn't feel awfully warm, too, although you humor the Old Man’s promise with a laugh, "You better not. This kingdom’s already demanded too much of his time away from home.”

Four has never been one for unnecessary fanfare, especially not in regards to his personal life. With that said, while he doesn’t mind discussing the intimate details of who he is outside of his role as a hero, he also doesn’t typically go out of his way to spill his guts about it either which is precisely why it took the Chain so long to find out about you.

Their friend had been rather vague as to where he was leading them after arriving in his Hyrule. They had already met his grandfather and even spent some time helping with chores, but Four insisted there was at least one more stop he wished to make before hitting the road again so that he could - get this - drop off a book for ‘someone’...

Now, being entirely honest, the Chain did internally judge his priorities just a bit, but they also weren’t about to kick up a fuss over it. Although Four failed to specify the identity of this mysterious ‘someone’, the other heroes simply assumed them to be an old friend, the gifted book acting as a mere excuse for Four to see them again. It’s only natural for a Link to begin missing his loved ones after adventuring for so long, and their resident smith must reeeally love you if that kiss you share is any indication.

It happens so quickly that the other boys can barely process what their eyes bear witness to. One moment Four had been standing at the doorstep, book in hand as he assured everyone once again that his visit wasn’t going to take long. Then the door opened to an attractive stranger and next thing anyone knew, their Smithy was standing on his toes locking lips with said stranger - And with no hesitation whatsoever!

“Link! It’s good to see you…Are these your friends?” You ask the question in such a casual manner as if it’s just an everyday occurrence for your boyfriend to randomly return with a whole new entourage behind him after months of being away.

“Yes. I’d tell you their names, but you know them already,” Four replies with a similarly calm demeanor, although his smile is now much more pronounced than it had been on the walk over, “Everyone here is named ‘Link’.”

“Easy enough to remember,” Even that information doesn’t seem to faze you beyond an intrigued eyebrow raise.

You’re quick to introduce yourself, not only by name, but also by the important title of being Four’s partner. Again, there’s no hesitation towards this establishment and he doesn’t so much as blink at hearing it, showing that this definitely isn’t a recent development for either of you. That little shit’s been dating you for a while, hasn’t he?! They should’ve known something was up seeing how annoyed he got following some of the other boys’ attempts at setting him up with a flirtatious local in the last visited town!

“It’s nice to meet you all. Link - Well, my Link has mentioned you in his letters before, so I was curious if our paths would ever cross.”

“Really? Cause he didn’t mention you at all…” Legend mumbles before getting elbowed roughly by Twilight.

“Will you all be staying? I can make tea or something -”

“- No. We’re only passing by so that I could give you this,” Four turns down your offer while handing you the book he’s been carrying around practically all day. How easily he’s able to do this surprises the Chain further, after all, most would jump at the chance to spend more time with their beloved. Surely just a few measly minutes can’t be enough to fill his quarter around you, can it?

“Ah, come on! You’re just going to introduce us and leave? That’s no way to treat a lover,” Warrior shames through a mischievous smirk.

“We have a job to do. I wouldn’t want to delay us any longer than needed,” Four narrows his eyes at the Captain in return, yet that doesn’t stop the rest of the Chain from looking to Time who eventually sighs under the pressure of their gazes.

“...It would be rude to simply leave as suddenly as we came. I suppose there’s no harm in staying a short while - only if we are welcomed, of course.”

“Wonderful! I’ll get started on that tea then!” Four grimaces while the Chain cheers and enters your home without needing any more of an invite. Noticing his dampened mood, you place a hand on his shoulder and frown, “Do you not want to stay? I wouldn’t be upset -”

“- Of course, I want to stay,” He sighs, his hand quickly placing itself over your own, “I’ve missed you, I just don’t want them embarrassing me. They can be a bit…much sometimes.”

You chuckle, gently leading him inside, “They can’t be that bad, can they?”

“Hey Smithy! Why didn’t you say anything about having a lover before? After all we’ve been through together, too; we should be hurt!”

“...Can they?” Four deflates, and your smile turns more sympathetic.

“Was it supposed to be a big secret?” Hyrule asks innocently, followed by Warrior’s scoff.

“I hope you aren't ashamed of them now.”

Four huffs in offense at that last comment, crossing his arms while shifting his weight to one side, “No, I’m not ashamed of them, and it was never a secret, it’s just that none of you ever asked. What was I supposed to do? Randomly start going on and on about my love life as we all ate around the campfire?”

“The Captain has no problem doing it,” Wild mocks, earning an insulted glare.

Hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, Four rolls his eyes sarcastically, “This is my partner and I love them…There, you guys know now. Happy?”

“But we still don’t know any details!” Shy whines, “Like, how’d you guys meet? How long have you been together?”

“Are you married? Do you want to be?”

…Dear Hylia, Four can already feel a headache coming on. Seeing his plight, you go ahead and answer the questions for yourself, “I’m afraid it’s not that interesting of a story. We grew up together and were always close until one day, we simply decided our relationship was more romantic than platonic. That was about a year or so ago. Not sure if we’re going to get married anytime soon since we’re still pretty young…but it’s a nice thought for the future.”

“You seem to have a very comfortable life here,” Time acknowledges, having a look around your home which is cozy and filled with books, many having been gifts from your boyfriend who has always made a point of bringing at least one back after each of his adventures.

“Laidback and uneventful in the best way possible,” Is how someone else describes it, “We can see why you’d like our Smith then.”

“True,” You snort before sharing an amused smirk with Four, “Although he can be quite the handful sometimes.”

The boys raise their eyebrows, not certain what you're alluding to. The Smith a handful? Are you certain you're talking about the same guy now, or does he have a secret polar-opposite twin hiding around here somewhere? Now that’s an actual secret he won’t be telling them anytime soon.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu time x reader #lu wild x reader #lu four x reader

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goobtopia · 8 months

Note

need a rafe x fem plus size reader 🧎‍♀️ maybe a grumpy sunshine moment too where he’s mean to everyone except her 🫣

it’s a little blurb but i hope this is what you were asking for!!

!! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

warnings: allusions to sex (no actual smut), groping, kissing, domestic!rafe, swearing, sexual dialogue, f!reader

disclaimer: the original edit of this blurb contains poor choices that i made, that have now been edited due to a criticism i received in this ask, here, you can read the original line, the critique, and my response. one line i wrote originally, in particular, could possibly offend or hurt you so please consider this before reading as the goal of this disclaimer is transparency and accountability rather than to cause any further harm. thanks for reading and all criticism is welcome.

[requests are open]

☆ masterlist ☆

You and Rafe had begun to look like your very own Home Living magazine, you only moved in last year and since the dust had finally settled Rafe was letting you go wild with the interior design. You had to hire help for some things like the dining and the living room but almost everything else was by your own creation. You'd been having a lot of parties.

No kids yet and you were still fresh out of college so it was the perfect spot for all your friends from your undergrad program and Rafe's buddies to come let loose.

"Hey are you not feeling okay?" You whispered, sliding into the seat beside Rafe who had a scowl on his face and a warm beer. "No it's fine I just-" He cut himself off letting things go silent for a moment.

"Just what?" You questioned, hoping he wasn't starting to feel sick or anything. "You told me to chill out tonight but I can't help it, they're not using the coasters on your new coffee table and spilling champagne on the wood floors. These people are animals." You smiled, touching him on the shoulder.

"First of all, they're our friends and it's our coffee table." You reminded him, soothing the skin under his shirt by rubbing it as he takes a swig from the bottle. "You just put so much work into this baby, I hate to see them ruin it." He whispered sweetly, leaning his head on your shoulder allowing you to run you hands through his straight hair.

"Baby the wood's all sealed and I doubt a little bit of champagne is gonna make our floors buckle. Can you at least try to enjoy yourself?" You cozy up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he can't help but smile and give you a quick kiss. "Of course baby, consider it forgotten." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"You smell nice baby, is that your perfume?" He takes a deep inhale as you twirl a piece of your hair, "New shampoo, it's strawberries." You were both in your own little world at this point when he landed another kiss on your awaiting lips. "Yummy." He mumbles, sliding his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss as he travels lower, grabbing the side of your hip.

"Y'know what might really help me forget?" He asks, pulling away from you so suddenly it's like he's teasing you. Daring you to tell him no when you have him so desperate. "Oh, yeah?" You ask him to continue raising a brow in the process. He pulls you over his lap, standing from his spot on the couch with you in his arms.

"Getting to spend some time in this cute ass of yours." He says loud enough for only you to hear as he squeezes your thighs, making you bite your lip at him.

"But Rafe, the party!" You whine, holding on to his shoulders and looking around the room that was uninterested in your theatrics. "What party?" He groaned, leading you his favorite room in the new house, the bedroom. "If I don't have your tits in my mouth in the next 30 seconds l'm kicking everyone out."

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

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yandere-sins · 1 year

Text

The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I

And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post

"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.

Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.

"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."

"Won't they miss him?"

Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."

For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman.

"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."

"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"

Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.

And your growling stomach wasn't helping.

While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter.

"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"

Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show.

You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.

No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now.

He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side.

Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth.

You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.

But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears.

Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind.

Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.

"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."

You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles.

Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal.

Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it.

You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you.

"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."

"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm.

To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes.

"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!"

You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.

"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"

His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?

Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him.

Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.

"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?"

"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely.

You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"

Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted.

However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life.

So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic.

"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.

"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest.

"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."

"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.

"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."

"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well!

Or so you thought.

Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin.

"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya."

Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face.

"I won't, of course."

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed.

"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"

You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours.

While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.

"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body.

If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type.

His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch.

But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.

A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in.

"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.

"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.

"I like you very, very much."

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year

Text

HUSH | MYG - SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

Welcome to Hush. We're the dating app that brings it all back; Y2K style. Forget catfishes, filters, and facetune - It's all about 'ASL?', character limits, and screaming into your pillow at 4am, after finaaaaally sending that goodnight text to your crush. Hush is the place to share your secrets. You're anonymous until you choose not to be - so what are you waiting for?! Go forth and multiply, Hush hottie! And by multiply, we mean your Hush crushes, of course! Hush users that match your preferences will automatically be added to your very own Secret Circle. We do the hard work for you (you're welcome), but it's up to you to turn your Hush crush into a secret worth keeping. Our lips are sealed, so yours don't have to be.

genre / tropes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean... a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you're jin's sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he's sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it's cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

wordcount: x (will be somewhere between 80-120k)

soundtrack: x

start date: 2023.08.31 (originally posted early 2022)

minors dni // originally posted to wattpad

NOTE FROM HOLLY // hush is uploaded to wattpad in shorter chapters that i then combine for updates on tumblr (as are most of my fics!!)

CONTEXT // pls read these before the story

THE SCOUTS - meet the band HUSH - meet the app

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader

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val-cansalute · 8 months

Text

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 5

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 3

ch. 4

ch. 6

a/n: 😪 banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics

Snow still lays thick upon the soil once you’re gone. Along its boundless surface, specks of silver glisten, basking in the gentle glow of the moon, smothering the town’s bustle.

“You sure?”

The wind is cruel, lashing auburn locks erratically about Ellie’s face, numbed by the frigidity. In spite of the burning cold overtaking her limbs, her grip on the straps of the saddle tightens and her eye contact with Tommy turns ever so slightly hostile,

"Tommy, it’s been less than a day. She can’t be far. You comin’ or not? ‘Cause I’m doing this with or without you.”

He looks back at her wordlessly with a furrow in his brow, piercing through the tense silence laced with the distant bustle of Jackson,

“Alright… Let’s set off quick then.”

“Okay.”

Something compels her to silence, an impulse to keep her lips sealed over restless secrets. Maybe she knows that going after you is illogical, that it was a choice you made on your own. But she can’t bring herself to indulge in those realisations – all she knows is that she has to find you; there is no hesitation. Thankfully, the urgency in her tone was explanation enough for Tommy.

With a rushed onset, they split up to cover more ground, venturing onwards into the overrun territory encompassing Jackson with eyes vigilant, searching for signs of you, but seconds turn to minutes, and minutes turn to hours of vacillating between trot and gallop, losing sense of direction and fragments of determination to the exhaustion that mutinies her mind.

Thank god the hoofprints come into view when they do - as if by magic or a blessing, the impressed snow shows itself clear as day, juxtaposing the sea of white bordering it, darkened by dirt and grime. Ellie perks up with desperate intrigue so she pulls the reins and crouches down beside them, muttering to herself,

“Huh, what do we have here?”

And then her heartbeat quickens in anticipation of relief,

“She's close.”

Verily, she follows, the tracks guiding her further into the dense vegetation with senses working overtime to accommodate the fact that it is winter and hordes are rampant. She fucking prays you didn’t run into one, but the forest is deafeningly silent, seeming to hold its breath tonight.

She’s fast on your track; in this moment, the path is hope, a lifeline steering her along. Every now and then, a rustle of leaves, or the distant echoes of infected throw her mind into disarray, but she scans the area rapidly, shaky grip tightening on her firearm, before pushing on.

Just under an hour, the prints become faded and scattered, and the apprehension makes her stomach twist before she lifts her head to greet the destination - a desolate clearing.

“Fuck me.”

Dim moonlight hangs over Ellie and Tommy’s exhausted figures. The night has been relentless. The trail resulted in nothing more than wasted time and the discovery of a empty clearing, devoid of any sign of you.

Frustration and fatigue etched on her face and lingering in the air around her, Ellie kicks at a loose stone on the ground like a little kid, the full regret of having set off hurriedly with no real plan or navigation overcoming her. They’ve gotten nowhere.

In a see-through attempt at remaining pragmatic, Tommy pats her shoulder and states with a tone of reassurance, though it’s betrayed by the wearied rasp in his voice,

"We'll figure it out, Ellie. We just need to rest for a bit and rethink our strategy. She couldn't have gotten far."

But Ellie's resolve is fixed and her jaw is set in determination. It’s too late to turn back now, she knows that.

"I can't rest, Tommy. Every minute wasted is another minute she's further."

He sighs heavily with complete sincerity, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"Ellie, she’s probably asleep right now, or some shit. And pushing yourself like this won't help anyone."

Their intermingling voices rise, threaded with increasing aggression until the tension has thickened beyond salvaging, and the rift between their convictions seems insurmountable in the darkness of the night.

Finally, unable to find common ground, Ellie announces,

"I'm not waiting. I'm going to keep searching. You wanna go back? Fine."

And, without waiting for a response, she takes off, leaving her horse and Tommy, who mutters quiet cusses into the heavy stillness of the night. She moves with purpose, the flashlight attached to her backpack tearing through the darkness.

She refuses to let the ache in her feet claim her; every step she takes echoes the silent plea for you to be found. Even as the hours wear on, Ellie's determination refuses to wane in spite of the fatigue gnawing at her bones. She can’t let herself think, she can’t let herself dwell, she has to keep searching, even if she can’t tell herself why.

However, the moon, as always, gives surrender to the encroaching dawn. Ellie's flickering hope of finding you dims as her steps grow heavier and her eyes wearier, and the first light of sunrise bleeds into the sky from the horizon.

Eventually, shattered and running on sheer god-like willpower, Ellie stumbles upon a vantage point, and stands over the landscape, large enough to swallow her whole millions of times over, like she’s the last person on Earth, staring into the face of impending destruction.

But it’s just dawn, and the overcast warm glow showers upon her as the realization that she has been searching through the night hits her. The screeching thought of you inevitably having gotten hurt plagues her mind. Deep breath, in and out, she lets the weight of it all settle upon her weakened shoulders, yet there’s still no time for rest.

The search is far from over.

You strain your neck to squint up at the skeletal structure that has born the brutality of the post-apocalyptic world, barely making out the details past the overgrown foliage seeping out of its broken windows and destroyed walls.

You enter with caution and heightened senses, searching for any signs of danger. The creaking floorboards beneath your feet shatter the palpable silence in the damp air.

Shifting through the shadows, your senses remain sharp and attuned to the slightest noise, scanning the objects illuminated by the dim light of dawn filtering through the cracks in the abandoned building. Shadows loom outstretched along the corridors.

In a shadowy corner, a man is crouched over a bag, and you watch him with a racing heart before you emerge, your silhouette a silent spectre against the dilapidated walls.

Your eyes meet for a fleeting moment before you both jump into action instinctively, but you swiftly disarm him. The struggle is brief but intense, and he is overpowered, because, if there’s one thing fear has taught you, it’s that each movement has to be calculated and purposeful.

And when he’s on his knees, trying to plead for mercy, when he’s scraping pathetically at the scruples of humanity left in your soul, you remain resolute - just don’t think. Your grip is firm as you subdue him.

A few blows leave him incapacitated, and you leave it at that because you have never been able to succumb to gratuitous violence. He lets out a muffled groan with his cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.

Swiftly, you bind is wrists and ankles taut, ensuring he can’t pose a threat before confiscating his meagre supplies and rifling through them. Food, water, anything that could sustain you on the journey ahead, you take, and then you drop his bag my his side and arise.

You turn to leave, but you glance back at the man over your shoulder, meeting his eyes with a solemn expression. You haven’t done this in a while, not since you arrived at Jackson, and your penchant for showing no mercy has been buffed down.

There’s so much you have to beg your mind to steer itself away from, beg it to not to linger on the helplessness in his eyes as he looks back at you, or how you would’ve slit his throat without a doubt when it was just you and Soren.

With the stolen supplies secured, you walk through the entrance. You have to convince yourself of one last thing.

Mercy takes on different forms.

Out into the muted light of dawn, the air is brisk, and the horizon enlightening drags the worry of not making it out of the treacherous night you endured off your shoulders. A new day. A momentary respite washes over you; you’re only a little scathed.

With the first light of dawn illuminating your path,

“Only an hour or two away …”

It is a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but it’s enough for someone with your past.

Mounting her horse, the familiar weight of the saddle grounds you as you set off once more into the unknown. The rhythmic, muffled thump of hooves against the snow-blanketed floor, and the shadow of the horse and rider stretched long over the ruins, a lone traveller navigating the remnants of a world.

You ride on, your mind numb to the thought of returning to Soren. Back to the old house, to the doorstep where your heart lies dormant.

Crestfallen, the fruitless landscape stands before Ellie, as if to mock her hunched over figure, bathed in the warm hues of the noontime sun. She has been traversing since the wee hours of the morning after stopping momentarily to map out a journey in her relentless pursuit of you, trying to stay determined, but the urgency that keeps her moving forward is dulled by the incessant pangs of hunger and the desperate struggle to keep her eyes open. Doubt creeps in as the vast emptiness erodes her resolution.

Just as thoughts of turning back infiltrate her sleep-deprived mind, a faint sound carries along a whistling gust of wind, drawing her fading attention. Pained noises, barely audible, leave her instantly alert, and Ellie follows the source of the sound with a subtle limp in her step. Though her senses are sharpened by the urgency of the situation, everything still seems blurrier and muffled.

Guided by the haunting echoes, she carefully weaves her way through the silent surroundings, every step weighted with anticipation, into a derelict building.

She approaches cautiously, entering a room where the sound is amplified and she comes face to face with the source: a man, bound and gagged, his eyes shut as he lies, weakened by his restraints. Without hesitation, Ellie kneels beside him, pistol pressed to his pained temple, her gaze unwavering,

“Who did this to you?" she demands, her voice edged with a fierce determination. His eyes fly open, looking up at her fearfully.

“Shit! Some fuckin’ girl – I don’t know!”

“… When did she leave?”

“Like ten minutes ago! I haven’t got shit, she took everything! I’m begging you, please untie me!”

She stands, contemplating it for a moment, before she kicks him over so that he can contort his body into a sitting position, eliciting a sharp groan. He wasn’t tied up beyond hope of managing to undo the knots, you made sure of it,

“You can figure that out on your own, I got shit to do.”

With a sense of exhilaration, Ellie jogs out and circles to the back of the building, her eyes scanning the snow-covered ground for any sign of movement where she notices a fresh set of foot and hoofprints, meeting at a point along the line where they become one trail of hoofprints, a delicate dance littering the frozen canvas.

Hope surges within Ellie as, once again, she follows the tracks. She has to move fast; you have a horse and she has only her feet. The air is tense with anticipation, but she somehow manages to power through the all-consuming exhaustion and hunger with the promise of getting closer to the elusive figure she seeks.

The sun dips lower on the horizon; the bitter cold forgotten in the warmth of purpose.

Nothing is left of your house but the gnarled bones of the home it once was. The memories of all you left behind seep through the cracked walls – the good and the bad, a silent witness to the passage of time. You hold your breath captive in your tightened chest and push open the door, its rusty hinges protesting your return with a shrill creak.

The air is thick with dust dancing in the slivers of dim light that manage to pierce through boarded windows. Everything surrounding you, once thriving and familiar, is now reduced to mere echoes, whispers. Your fingers gently trace the life left in the fray, your gaze sweeping over the remnants of all you lost to the destruction. There’s nothing but blood left to salvage, to hold onto.

You lay in the centre of what used to be your bedroom, save for the actual bed, beside the shadow of the place where Soren used to lie, but there is no reprieve. You can’t look at it, your gaze pointed to the damp-stained ceiling, rust-coloured organic forms scattered across it.

If there’s one thing you can trust to remain a constant in your life, it’s that memories flood your mind no matter when or where you are, unbidden and unwelcome. Here, you can let them play out wholly, succumb to the deserved guilt that you cannot let yourself escape.

Trace the mustard outline of the leakages in the wallpapered walls with the movement of your weary pupils, stop trying to battle the thoughts as they influx from the depths. Turn your head to look at the ruined wall – no matter how hard you scrubbed, droplets of what once was his blood, and his blood only, taken over by that cruel evil, seeped through and infected it just as the clicker infected him. They still burn as hot and bright as they did that night, staring back at you.

You had been splayed out on the floor, over tattered blankets, similar to now, waiting for Soren, who had heard a noise beyond the gate. The worry was becoming an annoyance, so you got up and ran out into the night to find him, further out than you usually would on your own.

You should’ve stayed. Never should’ve wandered. It was your fault he had to fight off that clicker, the scar etched into his back for all eternity, evidence of your fatal error. Even though you made it home with adrenaline pumping through your veins, the nagging sting eventually became an undeniable ache, and from that point, Soren was already dead.

He begged and begged, eyes glassed over for the first time since your mother died, but your pathetic selfishness left him shrinking beside the new force overcoming his body, till he became what he prayed he would never become.

Then, and only then, did you do it. Coward that you are, bashing his obliterated skull over and over in the haze, blood and brains sent adrift, consuming all the surfaces they landed on, your mind, body, and soul, for the rest of your life, and anything that lies beyond.

There’s a violent shift and you jolt back to the surface, gasping for air like you were drowning with sharp, shallow, greedy breaths.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ellie's urgent voice cuts through the remnants of the memory.

"I got you," she whispers, a breathless relief in her voice. You, disoriented and still caught in an intersection between past and present, struggle to hold back the already fallen tears and even in spite of the glaring truth that you came here wilfully, the sight of her brings sweet relief.

“Ellie-”

“Shimmer.”

“Huh?”

“The horse’s name is Shimmer.”

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suckerforbassist · 4 days

Text

Short drabble

Warnings: NSFW (minors DNI, 18+ only), pussy eating (Sort of), cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), swearing, pet names, not proof read

a/n: hello tumblr community! This is my first drabble and had been in my pc folder since 2021 :) originally, the character was a different person but due to my change of interest, I decided to choose logan as my main character haha.

Word count: 1.8k

“W-what are we doing here?” He dragged me back to his hotel room after the incident at the club.

The noise from the hallway of the hotel became inaudible as the door were shut by the Canadian man and oh shit-

I was left alone in this empty room with this maniac plus the surroundings of the room isn’t helping at all. We barely see each others face and the dim light shone through the curtain from the moon outside was the only source of light. His broad back faced the door, blocking the exit and his facial glinted due to the strangely gleamed by the moonlight. The pair of chocolate eyes bored into mine, not even glancing away from me. I looked away, knowing that he made me felt certain feeling towards him. Crossed my arms to show my confidence that he is not making me nervous even though my heart raced and butterflies fluttered in my belly. A pregnant of silence later, I heard he cleared his throat.

“We’re gonna have a conversation.”

I averted to him in confusion, “There’s nothing to talk about, Logan.”

“Yes there is, sweetheart! Whether you like it or not, you and I are gonna stuck in here- talk it out.”

He exclaimed, still staring into my face. I scoffed with the name he called me. I used to hate that name- but, when it came out from that lips, it just felt right. My eyes landed on his lips, I wondered how that pair of lips felt against mine. Would it felt soft as feather? What would it taste like? Hell, what was I thinking? We hated each other. Immediately, I asserted,

“Stop calling me that! I’m not letting out a single word. Starting from now.”

Logan sighed but he pursued anyway, “Why are you avoiding me?”

My eyes wandered everywhere except for his figure who was standing 4 feet away from me. Mouth was sealed not giving him the satisfaction. Made him frustrated but, it was replaced with a mysterious smirk.

“Fine, you wanna play like that, huh?” Pair of eyes staring into mine. “Then, let the lips do the work.”

“What-”

Swiftly, he took a couple strides towards me and I felt Logan’s right palm caressed softly my cheek as his other hand held onto my waist and pressed his lips against mine. Soft and delicate. So, my assumption about those lips was true. I was daze and my lips froze against his but quickly picked it up when I felt his lips pressed against me a bit harder but, still delicate. Our chests brushed against one another, I felt his heart beating rapidly and so was mine. Logan was about to pull away when I did not give him much response but, I instantly gripped lapel of his flannel shirt and pulled him for another kiss.

All I could remember was that kiss was hot and intense as we picked up the pace. My arms automatically wrapped around his neck as I felt Logan’s hand roamed my back and lower until he rested on my ass. Squeezed it, a squeal escape from my mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my wet cavern. Exploring every inch of my mouth. Left the tingling sensation all over my body and down to the core. His tongue was erratic, eager to taste every inch of my mouth.

I was not even aware that he bend his knees a bit lower and felt both of his hands caressed the back of my thighs. Gasp escaped from my lips as I was being lifted and forced my legs to wrap around his waist, making the hem of the dress lifted a bit. Setting me gently against the soft sheet of his hotel bed whilst his lips explored to my jaw, few pecks were given delicately and down to the crook my neck. A rattle breath left my lips as the plum pair of lips were pressed on the particular spot on my neck. His sucking, bite and lick made me swoon and unmindful, my eyes were shut closed due to the unforgettably pleasure. Hands were roaming the back of his neck and unruly curls. Fingers were tangled in between the curls.

“Lo- please.”

Biting the bottom of my lips to contain the sound as he moved towards south to my clavicle, leaving wet kisses behind. His left hand was grazing teasingly at the side of my breast and then, rested on the hip while his right hand propped next to my head. Absentmindedly, I lifted my hips against his. A friction gained between our crouch and immediately I jolted towards the excitement. A few bold grunt were heard by the man above me as I continued to tease. A second later, he halted and I no longer felt his warmth. The hand on the side of my hip was no longer presence. When I opened my eyes, he knelt in front of me with the eyes filled with guilt and lust. Panting and redden cheeks, ran his eyes away from mine.

“Logan?” I sat up on the sheet with him still between my legs.

“This is wrong. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kiss you o-or force you-”

He was not the broody-jerk Logan at the moment, he was so much vulnerable and subtle Logan. The one that I grew accustom to these past few days. Without second thoughts, I knelt in front of him and palmed his stubbly cheeks.

“Hey, non of these are your fault. You didn’t force me to do this. I wanted it, Logan.” His orbs directly staring into mine, looking for sign of discomfort in mine.

“I want you.”

He croaked, “Are you sure?”

I leaned onto him and pressed my lips against his. At the moment, I don’t even care what’s going to happen between us tomorrow, tried my best to ignore all the wrong thoughts after we happened to sleep together. Shifted onto his lap with my thighs straddled him. He was a little hesitant and tried to assure with my decision. He broke the kiss and opened his mouth tried to say something but I beat to him.

“Lo, shut up and unzip me.”

He grunted while his hand wandered behind my back and skillfully, dragged the zip down. Instantly, I lifted from his lap and stood in front of the man. Sensually, my hands roamed the side of my body, purposely touch the tits without leaving my eyes from him. His eyed me lustfully while licking his lips. I reached both of my dress’s straps with thumbs and slowly dragged it down my shoulder. Soon, the satin fabric dropped and pooled around my feet. Leaving me in only strapless navy blue lace bra and panties. A groan left from his lips and a prominent bulge could be seen from his jeans.

“Twirl slowly for me, bub.” His husky voice made me shuddered and my tummy fluttered.

I complied to his order and as I was about to face him, I felt his warm hands on the side of my hips. Pulled me onto his laps, straddled his thighs. Without seconds thought, he pulled me into a desperate kiss and mumbled.

“You’re a goddess. So beautiful.”

His praise made me even wetter and a moan slipped from my throat.

“Tell me, what do you want?”

“I want you. All of you.”

Hastily, he flipped me and my back was against the soft mattress. I felt his lips everywhere and I kept whining as I felt his lips on the braline, one of his hands snaked behind and skillfully took off the strap. As the piece of flimsy fabric came off, Logan was stunned and his throat bobbed. His brown eyes scanned my chest delicately and then averted to my eyes asking permission to touch them but, I pouted.

“Why am I half naked and you’re not?” He chuckled and asked me if I wanted to undress him. Hell, yeah gladly.

When he stripped to only boxer, my hand sneakily went down to his crouch to touch the prominent bulge but, he was quicker. Grabbed, my wrist and brought it above my head. When I asked him why, he said he wanted to taste my skin first. I moaned and begged for him to touch me there.

“Patience, Princess. You’ll get what you want.”

With his a hand still locked both of my arms above my head, he began to explore my chest. Left a trail of wet kisses, licking and sucking the skin around the nipple. I huffed in frustration and tried to tug my hands from his grip. Logan let out a deep chuckled and continued sucking.

“Lo, please.” I whined. “Want you-” Gasped as I felt his tongue licked my left nipple, circled it and then playfully bit the nipple. Wrapped his lips around it and started to suck. Moaned at the sensation and it sent straight to my heat, damped my panties. He did the same to my right nipple, took his time whilst I was squirming mess underneath him.

Logan finally stopped and sat up straight while letting my hands free, stared at his masterpiece that he just created. His mouth was agape, cheeks were flustered and his eyes were blown in lust. At the same time, that pair of eyes were filled with adoration and I dared to say was love. But I can’t, falling in love with him was a huge mistake.

All of my doubts disappear as I felt his fingers trailed my inner thigh delicately, his other hand rested on my hip. Pleasure sent all over my body as his forefinger and middle pressed at the front of my panties, rubbed the wetness up and down. I moaned and fists the pillow underneath my head. Logan mumbled ‘beautiful’ but I was too busy to acknowledge his vocabulary.

“So wet for me, baby.” He leaned between my crouch and continued pressing and circling my covered bundle of nerves with his thumb. I felt a couple of pecks on the hem of my panties and suddenly the pressure on my clit’s gone. I sighed in frustration and sensed Logan was smirking.

“I swear Logan, your balls gonna be blue if you don’t hurry up.”

He chuckled, “No need to be mad, bub. I was just taking my time.”

Both his fingers curled at the hem of my panties but halted as his gentle yet lustful eyes met mine, asking for permission. I lifted my hips as allowing him to take off the flimsy piece. A groan escaped from the bassist lips.

“Fuck baby, all this for me?” He was inches away from my dripping cunt and sniffed, “Smell so amazing, I bet you taste wonderful, sweetheart.”

The way he talked made my face heated in embarrassment and hid my face in my palms. He tutted and removed my hands, placed them both on the duvet. Knowing those hands will gripped the duvet tightly or flying around his hair or back.

“Wanna see you.” He winked, “Just scratch me or anything, alright? I don’t mind.” He dived into my cunt like a starved man.

Gasped as he licked clean-

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cherriesncinnamon · 1 year

Text

secret / ethan landry x reader

synopsis: ghostface quickly finds you alone, smashing through your apartment to get close to you. under his knife, betrayal from the person you trusted the most was the last thing you expected.

warning/tags: mildly graphic, stabbing, blood, scream 6 spoilers, your bf is a killer.

word count: 500.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can hear ghostface’s shallow breaths as he drags the knife across your chest, drawing tiny droplets of crimson. your throat closes up, unable to let any words of pleading out, sealing your fate. the one time your roommates, tara and sam, leave to go to the store is the time ghostface decides to make a star appearance. typical.

after picking up a pair of fabric scissors when he was distracted, you slowly retract them from behind your back, seeing your sudden chance while he fixates on dragging out your torture, wanting to intensify your panic before slaughtering you. firmly gripping the handle, you sink it into his abdomen, putting all of your strength and anger into the pressure of the blade. ghostface tilts his head at you, quickly backing away. you keep hold of your weapon, dread washing over you as he places his gloved hand over the wound, blood running down his fingers.

“you fucking bitch.” he grunts, the whine in his tone familiarising you. you furrow your brow, denial overtaking you for a few seconds, but you know that voice all too well, too well to ever mistake it. you stifle your gasp, stomach dropping to the floor in realisation. there was a reason why your boyfriend always disappeared when you, or your friends, were being targeted by a psychotic killer. you always turned a blind eye. your sweet, innocent boyfriend would never. now, it’s looking like that level of trust will cost you your life. abandoning your safety, you run up to him, clutching the chin of the white mask, and ripping it from his face.

ethan has a huge grin painted on his expression, eyes casted over with enjoyment and darkness. he laughs at your cries, bewildered as to how you hadn’t figured it out sooner. he’d expected so much more or you, you are his partner after all, he chose you. the air thick with silence and deception, ethan takes his knife and plunges it into you at your most vulnerable moment, twisting it far into your stomach to evoke louder screams. your knees refuse to hold your body a second longer, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, writhing in pain, and completely at ethan’s disposal. he towers over you, groaning deeply, composing himself surprisingly well for being drenched in his own blood.

slumped against your once white wall, he squats down to you height, brown curls stuck to his hot face, chest heaving. you look at him with nothing but fury in your eyes, weakly applying pressure to your worsening wound to postpone your premature death. ethan stares with dark doe eyes, feeling accomplished. you weren’t his original target, yet once he saw your friendliness with his brother’s murderer, he knew you had to go, too. after getting close to you, unfortunately, his adolescent crush overpowered his ulterior motives. he was obsessed with you, and hated you all at the same time.

“it hurts doesn’t it? hm, baby?” ethan taunts, delicately moving your hair out of your face, the blood from his fingers marking your cheek. you have no words to spill, overwhelmed by betrayal, and not willing to gift him an ounce of your energy. he takes off his glove to stroke the tears away from your under eyes, watching in validation as you groan in agony. he places a single kiss on your plump lips, suddenly expressing reconsideration. he’s going to let you live.

“this’ll be our little secret, okay?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream vi

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grimoireofhayley · 1 year

Text

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Possessiveness (let me know down below if there's more to be added, please and thank you)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain

A/n: Oh my gosh, I didn't think the first part would get so many hits already! Thank you so much for reading this current series! I've decided that this story is going to be my main focus and I'm putting the others on hold for now. Let me know in the comments below if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, keep in mind this story takes place in SCREAM 1996 (The Original) so some or a lot of the plot will be in it. Thank you :)

All chapter links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 2

Monday, the first day of the week, the day that everyone dreaded. It meant the end of a great Weekend and the start of a long and exhausting forthcoming week ahead.

You pulled into the driveway of Woodsboro High school, your ‘67 Chevy glistened in the sun’s light. You rolled the windows up, opened the door and stepped out, grabbing your bag in the process.

Double clicking your keys’ button, your car beeped, indicating it was now locked.

The parking lot was littered with News Vans, Journalists and their Cameramen, along with police cars and Officers. You narrowed your eyes, confused, seeing all the commotion.

“What the fu--” You uttered, cutting yourself off, seeing the auditorium sealed off.

“(Y/n)! Over here!” You hear Tatum shout and you jerk your head in the direction.

“Hey, Tate..” You trailed, seeing Sidney next to her, “Hi, Sid..” You nodded, greeting them. “Do you two have any idea what is going on?” You asked, gesturing to everything around you.

Just as Tatum was about to answer, Gale Weathers, and her annoyingly pitched voice began talking.

“The small town of Woodsboro, California, was devastated last night, when two young teenagers were found brutally murdered.” Gale took a breath before continuing her speech in front of her cameraman. “Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made, and the murderer could strike again..”

Your head was filled with questions, who were the students that were killed? What if you were the next victim? Why hasn’t the killer been found yet?

You gulped and your face tinted pink from nerves.

“Do you believe this shit?” Tatum suddenly spoke, jolting both you and Sidney from your thoughts.

“Tatum what is going on?” You and Sidney both asked in unison.

“I was going to answer earlier, but Gale seemed to have your attention more.” Tatum licked her lips, and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. The blonde glanced at you and Sidney, “Wait, so you really don’t know?” She asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, no shit, why else would I be asking?” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm evident in your voice.

“Okay, okay…” Tatum mumbled, “Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night.”

“What?” Sidney began, “No way…” You finished Sidney’s sentence for her.

“And we’re not just talking killed. We’re talking splatter-movie killed.” Tatum made hand motions and began walking, you and Sidney followed her lead.

“Ripped open from end to end.” The blonde looked at you, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English.” Sidney gasped.

“Her boyfriend, Steve Orth, sat next to me in Drama..” You frowned, looking at Sidney.

“Well, not anymore…” Tatum sputtered.

“Ugh, that’s too bad…” You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s so sad…” Tatum looked at the ground, kicking at a stone in her way. “Her mom and dad, they found her hanging from a tree, her insides on the outside…” Tatum placed her hands behind her back, rubbing the soles of her arm. “And Steve, God, he was found bound to a chair and his stomach ripped open..”

“Oh, my God..” You groaned, sadness lingering in your voice. “Do they know who did it?” You asked, side-eyeing Tatum.

“They have no idea. They’re fuckin’ clueless.”

You, Tatum and Sidney walked up the school’s steps.

“They’re interrogating the entire school…” Tatum exhaled before listing off people, “Teachers, students, janitors--”

You butted in, “They think it’s school related?” You raised a brow, gripping the side of your arm, nails digging into your flesh. The anxiety of it all, started building up in the pit of your stomach. You felt nauseous.

Tatum stopped in front of you and Sidney, “They don’t know…” Tatum glanced into your hues before looking at Sidney, “I mean, Dewey was saying this is the worst crime they’ve seen in years. Even worse then--”

“Tate…” You warned, gesturing for her to choose her words carefully when speaking to Sidney. Yes, you may not like Sidney as much, but she doesn’t deserve to be reminded of her mother’s rape and murder.

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, making the conversation dwindle.

Tatum sighed, jabbing her two index fingers together, out of nervousness. “Well.. It’s bad.”

You tapped your pencil against your desk, staring beside you.

Little do your friends know, Steve was also your ex-boyfriend. After you guys had a falling out, he had left you for Casey. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of anyone knowing you were the dumpee and not the dumper, plus, he was secretly seeing you while he was in another relationship before Becker. You didn’t want anyone to judge you for it. You felt guilty as is, but the way he was able to charm you with his words and physical touch, you couldn’t help yourself, but keep going for more. However, as far as anyone else knows, you guys were just close friends.

You moaned, letting your head droop, “Jesus…” You whispered, drumming your fingers, trying to settle the sick feeling in your gut.

“(Y/n) (L/n), it would appear to be your turn.” The teacher said, looking at you, and the rest of the class turned their heads to meet your gaze.

You nodded, looking one last time at the empty desk next to you, where Steve used to sit.

You grabbed your books, pencil case and water bottle, shoving them quickly into your bag.

“Who’s up next?” The principal asked.

“Um, (Y/n) (l/n)..” Dewey looked over his papers.

“Wait, wasn’t she the one who found Maureen Prescott last year--” The principal began, but stopped, seeing you in the doorway.

“Ah, (Y/n). How have you been?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You smiled half-heartedly, sitting down on the blue-cushioned chair.

“Hi, (Y/n)..”

“Hello, Sheriff Burke, Dewey…” You inhaled, feeling the nerves begin to rile back up. You tapped your foot off the ground, shaking your leg, feeling your hands sweat.

“Uh, that’s Deputy Riley today, (Nickname).” Dewey winked.

“How is Everything?” Sheriff Burke looked you over, seeing how anxious you were.

“Um, could be better…” You mumbled, looking down.

“Huh, why’s that?” Burke leaned forward. You sank in your chair, feeling rather intimidated.

“Look, we’re gonna keep this very brief, (Y/n), alright?” The principal placed a broad hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The police just want to ask you a few questions, okay?”

You nodded.

“(Y/n), were you very close to Steve Orth?”

‘Shit..’ You thought.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I was…” You wiped your hands off your jeans, trying to dry them off.

“How close?” Burke, scribbled down on his board, awaiting your answer.

You gulped, looking at Dewey, silently praying he’d step in, seeing how apprehensive you were, but he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he was doing his job.

“We dated…” You started, “Last year for a couple months…”

“How come the relationship ended?”

“Uh, we--, um, we had a falling out.”

“What type?”

“Jesus--” You groaned, rubbing your thighs with your hands, “He was seeing me behind his then girlfriend's back, we slept together a few times, okay?” You came clean, “He wanted it to end, but I didn’t, but he ended up leaving anyway, leaving for Casey. That’s it, I swear.” You teared up, “I feel so bad about the whole situation as it is, poor Brooke, she didn’t know anything, but he left both of us for Casey..” You placed your hands over your face as quiet sobs escaped your lips. “Am I in trouble?” You peaked through the creases of your fingers, a blush forming across your face.

“For having an affair with him? No, of course not, but that does move you on top of my suspect list.”

You whined, misery coating your mind, “Why? I didn’t kill him..” You uttered, wiping your nose with your light-blue sleeve. “I was hurt, but that doesn’t mean I’d kill him for being scorned…” You trailed, meeting Sheriff Burke's eyes. “I couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a human being…”

“Uh, Sheriff?” Dewey stepped in, “I mean, she’s right, there’s no way she could do something like that.” Dewey glanced at you.

The Sheriff sighed, “We just have to ask you a few extra questions, that’s it.. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that, I should’ve worded it differently. It’s only because you were close with him, you were his mistress at one point, so it’s somewhat suspicious.” He rubbed his chin, “Mistress was upset by Steve breaking relations off, so Mistress sets a plan for revenge. You catch my drift?” He looked at you, and you slouched.

“Yeah..” Was all you could muster out, you sniffled, hugging yourself, waiting for more questions to be asked. “Alright, let’s get this over with…”

<-Previous Next->

#billy loomis x female reader #ghostface x female reader #billy x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #Stu macher x female reader #scream franchise #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #1996 #billy x you x stu #billy x you #stu x you #reader insert

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otomehonyaku · 3 months

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ☽ Anime Genteiban DVD Mini Drama Translation ☽ Side Story I (Ayato, Laito, Shuu)

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS 限定版 SPECIAL DISK II Side Story I Voiced by Midorikawa Hikaru (Ayato), Hirakawa Daisuke (Laito), Toriumi Kōsuke (Shuu) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (special thanks to @uzi-boozii for providing the audio!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

These CDs were exclusives that came with the limited edition DVD for the first season of the Diabolik Lovers anime! They basically depict short scenes in-between the story of the anime, and they're surprisingly fun so far. This one in particular takes place after Ayato and Yui had their little moment in the underground pool (⸝⸝⸝• ω •⸝⸝⸝) ♡ Have fun reading/listening!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[This CD takes place after Ayato threw Yui into the pool and kissed her. The scene starts when Ayato walks away after pulling Yui out of the water.]

00:00 Ayato: Thanks to her, I’m soaking wet… Fuck, my shirt is clinging to my skin. This sucks.

[Ayato takes off his jacket.]

A: I know I shouldn’t bother with her, but why…

[Ayato takes off his uniform shirt and hangs his clothes in front of the fireplace.]

A: My uniform should dry quickly in front of the fire.

[A fire crackles in the hearth. Ayato notices a presence nearby.]

A: Hey, Laito. The hell are you doing? If you’re going to be here, don’t just silently stare at me like that! Creeps me out.

Laito: Hehe. You caught me.

A: Shut up. You’re not fooling anyone.

L: Oh my, Ayato, you’re drenched. What happened? I didn’t know it was going to rain today.

A: Tch. You’re so predictable.

L: How so?

A: Playing innocent even though you know exactly what’s goin’ on. Quit the theatrics.

L: Haha. Well, well, well… Looks like I hit a nerve. Hehe. I wonder if it’s because Bitchlet’s lips tasted sweeter than you were expecting… Tell me, how was it? I want to know.

01:31 A: Shut up. Don’t spy on me.

L: I wasn’t spying or anything. I just so happened to stumble upon the two of you.

A: Then why the fuck were you at the pool? You hate swimming.

L: Huh? Look who’s talking. You’re the one who hates water. Besides, you didn’t answer my question. What did her lips taste like? Stop dodging the question and tell me.

A: I don’t feel like telling you.

L: Hehe. So it was that good…

A: Fuck off!

L: Haha! You’re really getting worked up about it. Are you shaken, Ayato? How rare.

A: I’m not shaken. Laito, if you don’t shut up now, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.

L: Now, now. You’d better not. If you’re going to punch this beautiful face of mine, my nightly engagements with the opposite sex will turn sour.

A: Fuck off. I don’t care.

L: Sorry, sorry. Don’t be so angry.

A: Tch.

02:40 L: Really, though. That was her first kiss, wasn’t it?

A: Of course. I’m taking all of her firsts. Her fate was sealed when she showed up at our doorstep.

L: I wonder if they’re really that good, those first times. But you have a big thing for firsts and being first after all, right, Ayato?

A: What are you talking about?

L: I mean, don’t you think girls are even more tempting when they already belong to someone else? When someone other than me already loves her so badly, truly cherishes her… I fucking loathe that. Hehe… The thought of stealing that girl away is enough to get me off. Don’t you enjoy stuff like that, too? Haha!

A: Pervert. What’s good about getting someone’s sloppy seconds? A girl with fair, untainted skin, without a single bite mark… What’s better than being the first to take her?

L: Bitchlet’s not exactly untainted anymore, though, is she? Hehe. I want to taste her for myself soon.

A: Do you seriously think I’d let you?

04:00 L: I’ll make her feel really good, I promise. I’ll trace and lick all the little spots on her body that you've touched, Ayato... I’ll sink my fangs into her in the places where you bit her… I’ll savour her. Huh? But if I do that, I wonder who she’ll fantasise about, feeding on her… Or rather, I wonder whose feeding she’ll recall…

A: I told you, I don’t wanna hear it.

L: I wonder if it’ll be me. Or you, Ayato. Or maybe someone else? Haha.

A: Laito, you prick, stop fucking around! She’s mine. Go hunt some other woman!

L: Oh, Ayato. If you get so worked up about her, I’ll only want her more.

[Ayato throws something Laito’s way.]

A: Are you pickin’ a fight with me?

L: No need to make such a scary face at me, Ayato. Besides, you keep saying that she’s yours, but so long as she’s in this mansion, I have a right to taste her too, you know. If anything, she’s our sacrificial bride.

A: Shut up! If I say she’s mine, she’s mine!

L: Come on, that’s just your ego talking. Shuu thinks so too. Right, Shuu?

A: Huh? Shuu?

Shuu: Fuck off. Just let me sleep in peace. And even if you don’t–today’s a full moon, so don’t expect much from me. I’m tired.

L: Tired? Surely you actually mean that you’re brimming with power?

S: Whatever.

L: I love the full moon. On these full moon nights, all my worries dissipate and I can’t help but focus on one single desire.

S: Heh.

06:00 A: Shuu, how long have you been here?

S: Doesn’t really matter, does it?

L: He’s been there the entire time, so he’s heard the entire conversation. Oh, I wish Shuu could’ve seen Ayato’s Grand Dive and Bitchlet’s rosy cheeks.

[Laito wraps his arms around himself in delight.]

A: Shut the fuck up!

S: I saw it.

A: You did?

[Ayato and Laito both shoot upright in surprise.]

A & L: Wait, you were there?

S: Tone it down. The two of you are way too loud. The underground pool is a good spot to take an afternoon nap.

A: Tch. You piss me off.

L: Heh. Seems like everyone knows what you were doing in there. Except, well, I guess we don’t know how you’re really feeling about it.

A: Subaru was in his room and Reiji was holed up in his lab, right?

L: Well, yeah, but you never know. Subaru might have been listening in, and Reiji might have picked up on it during his experiments as well… I'm not sure about Kanato, though.

07:15 S: He was there.

L: Huh? He was at the pool?

S: Yeah. He was looking in from the terrace on the second floor.

L: Hahaha! So he was! He was making such an disinterested face earlier, but in reality he was keeping a firm eye on her.

A: Ugh.

L: Feeding in the water is pretty nice though, isn’t it? I enjoy it too. When you’re underwater, you can really feel the breath and body temperature of your prey. As soft as a little bird, and warm, and so fickle… It’s just too good.

S: I hate feeding underwater.

L: Oh, so Shuu has experience with it as well. I never knew.

S: It takes more effort than it usually does. And when the water’s cold, the blood turns colder as well.

L: That’s a good point. But to be fair, I like blood when it’s cold just as much as when it’s warm.

S: Anyway, I use the pool to sleep.

L: Well, that’s unusual. Heh.

A: If the pool’s such a good place to sleep, why aren’t you there all the time? Why were you there just to bother me?

S: This is a bother. Ugh… It’s because the moonlight is the prettiest from there.

L: Aha, so you do like the full moon after all!

S: I never said I hated it. Besides, I was there first. Then Laito came, and you, Ayato, got there last. You should’ve just gone to your own room.

A: Tch. Shut up. I came in here to dry my uniform because this is the biggest hearth in the mansion.

S: Also, Ayato, put some clothes on. You’re half-naked and it’s repulsive.

09:27 A: What? You lifeless prick. I have no reason to listen to you call me repulsive. Says the one who takes baths fully clothed. Who’s the more repulsive one then?

S: It’s not like I do that because I like it. It’s because it’s too bothersome to take anything off.

L: Come on, let’s just leave it.

S: I agree.

L: Hm?

[Laito sniffs the air.]

A: What? Is someone else here?

L: No, but doesn’t it smell like something’s burning?

A: Huh? Like something’s burning?

[Ayato’s uniform has caught fire.]

A: Ah!

L: Woah, his shirt! His jacket! They’re on fire!

S: They’ll catch fire if you put them too close to the hearth.

A: Why didn’t you say anything, then? Fuck!

[Ayato throws his clothes on the ground and tries to stomp out the flames.]

L: Ah, what a shame. You should honestly tell Reiji what happened, and he might get a new one for you. That you jumped in the pool to save Bitchlet from drowning, and that your clothes caught fire when you hung them out to dry. Hehe.

A: You asshole. You makin’ fun of me?

L: Not at all. I just want to see Reiji’s reaction when you tell him. I wonder how concerned he’ll be for Bitchlet.

A: I don’t even wanna know. Listen. I’m telling you one more time. Pancake’s mine. Don’t lay a finger on her.

S: You’re in no position to order us around.

11:06 L: Yeah, tell him, Shuu!

A: What? Want me to tell you again?

S: Ugh, shut up. I want no part in this.

A: Shuu! I wasn’t done talking!

S: What? Hurry up and say it.

A: Do not lay a finger on her.

S: I can’t make any promises.

[Ayato grabs Shuu by the collar.]

L: Huh! What a turn of events. This is the first time Shuu’s expressed interest in our sacrificial bride. Hehe. This is getting interesting.

A: For fuck’s sake, Laito, shut up.

S: It’s not like I’m interested or anything. She’s only prey. Nothing more, nothing less.

A: If it’s prey you’re after, go hunt somewhere else.

12:01 S: That’s too bothersome. We have a living sacrifice at home, after all.

A: Tch.

L: Haha! This is too enjoyable. Hey, if this is the situation we’re in, why don’t we place bets on whose fangs Bitchlet will become addicted to? That’ll make things so much more rewarding.

A: Huh? The fuck are you trying to say? Of course it would be mine!

S: I don’t care about the feelings of my prey.

L: Huh? You don’t care?

A: Yeah, right. Laito, there’s no reason to hold a competition. It’s obvious that she likes my feeding the best.

L: [To Shuu:] Are you fine with that?

A: Get a life, Laito.

S: I agree.

A: I’m going back to my room.

[Ayato walks off.]

L: Huh…

S: Me too. I’m sleepy.

[Shuu walks off as well.]

L: Huh? You too, Shuu?

S: The moon’s waning, you know.

[Shuu closes the door behind him.]

L: Ah, how boring. We vampires have infinite time on our hands… If only they’d play along with my games for once. It’d do them good to have some fun.

[Laito heads for the door.]

L: Hehe. Bitchlet’s feeling something. Feeling something that I know all too well. And I’ll be the one to expose it. The first one to expose it, that is.

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