#pack up your sins and go to the devil

[esteemed-excellency]

I don't have any art to offer today, so here's some hiramcore lyrics

[kentopedia]

♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai

he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k

note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever

the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living. 

it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning. 

it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford. 

you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room. 

hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils. 

someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning. 

you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?

the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen. 

you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting. 

the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance. 

you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight. 

you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there. 

he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.

you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.

still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them. 

perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle. 

the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.” 

“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”

his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you. 

“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?” 

you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.

and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent. 

it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.

you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on. 

he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?” 

the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.

“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?” 

you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly. 

he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.” 

nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead. 

“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides. 

“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.” 

your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”

“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”

you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”

his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.” 

it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god. 

that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers. 

it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely. 

already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.

“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated. 

he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.” 

you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?” 

he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”

there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?

“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”

“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.” 

you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?” 

he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”

“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.” 

you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?

“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.  

“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.” 

“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.” 

“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."

three weeks pass before you see him again. 

you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.

osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side. 

you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came. 

night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart. 

though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him. 

you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.

“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.” 

“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?” 

he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations. 

osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges. 

“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”

“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”

“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes. 

it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together. 

“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet— 

“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.” 

osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.” 

he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.  

“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave  a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”

he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.” 

you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?” 

osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”

you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth. 

maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart. 

he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide. 

“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”

your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched. 

his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”

you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.” 

“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.

your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone. 

you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin. 

“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure. 

“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.” 

“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.” 

osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.” 

there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”

“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.” 

you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position. 

he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh. 

“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.” 

“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud. 

your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”

“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.” 

“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"

he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.” 

you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails. 

breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over. 

osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”

he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel. 

osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”

you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips. 

“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach. 

you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. “please, osamu, please,” 

he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features. 

you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further. 

though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.” 

sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you. 

“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—” 

“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”

his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir. 

“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.” 

“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour. 

your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder. 

you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth. 

“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.” 

you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—

“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?” 

“you don’t want to.” 

you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.” 

he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room. 

you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green. 

“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”

you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.

“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.” 

his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin. 

the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat. 

for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.

though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.

“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”

your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room. 

“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you. 

osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath. 

but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?” 

your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan. 

you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways. 

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

[666appleschnappsfm]

Oh, I got a message from below 'Twas from a man I used to know About a year or so ago Before he departed He is just as happy as can be I'll tell you what he said to me He said, "If ever you get heavy-hearted Pack up your sins and go to the devil in Hades

~ Pack Up Your Sins (And Go To The Devil)

---

Little sketchy practice of Luci and Al cuttin' a rug, 'cause I'm enchanted with all the lovely art I've seen of them dancing!

[judeswhore]

finny; steve harrington

summary: steve harrington is nothing if not a sucker for pretty ladies and what better way to woo the new girl than with some over priced cotton candy and a giant dolphin?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

steve harrington was a major flirt, that was something you'd figured out only minutes into your date. he'd complimented you at least a dozen times already, had offered to show you around hawkins for the rest of the summer and had dropped a few not so subtle hints about wanting to kiss you, all within the space of a few hours. your mind was reeling, stomach a mess of butterflies and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't wipe the ridiculously giddy smile off your face. he had made you laugh more times than you could count and you were one hundred percent certain that this was the best date you'd ever been on. you couldn't help but feel just slightly disappointed that it was coming to an end.

you'd met steve only two days ago, the very same day you'd arrived in indiana, but you were sure he had already stolen a tiny part of your heart. not in an, i'm-instantly-falling-in-love, kind of way, but in a, i'm-never-gonna-meet-someone-else-who-makes-me-feel-so-giddy-and-carefree, kind of way. there was something about him, a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you to him and you'd admit you were more than a little disappointed that you hadn't met sooner. steve seemed like the kind of person who would light up a room the second he walked in and a part of you was jealous of everyone who'd gotten to experience the full extent of that.

"how good's your aim?" steve glanced down at you, hair falling on to his forehead, grazing the tops of his eyebrows and it was a struggle not to lift your hair and push it out of the way. you raised your own brows, side stepping a kid barrelling your way with an overly large stick of cotton candy. despite the late hour, the carnival was packed with families and children, excited squeals loud around you, the air sticky with laughter and undeniable fun. you couldn't argue that this place with its endless games, countless sweet vendors and overdramatic brightly lit ferris wheel was the perfect place for a first date and you were more than thankful that steve had asked you here rather than to a restaurant or movie. not that those wouldn't have been enjoyable, but this atmosphere made you feel a little more open, a little less awkward beside the boy who, according to your cousin, was once the king of hawkins.

to say you, and your cousin, were surprised that steve had asked you out within only hours of being in hawkins would be a drastic understatement. you'd been eyeing him, probably not so subtly, from over the shelves of the romance section, pretending to be searching so hard for a movie while trying to find the courage to go up to the pretty boy manning the front desk. it seemed however, the attraction was mutual but luckily for you, steve was a lot more confident than you were and with a few flirty comments and a lot of eye rolls from his coworker, he was asking you to the carnival. all stupid grins and nervous giggles, you'd agreed, because who could say no to anyone who looked as good as him? and so at exactly 8:30, he was at your door, a bunch of roses in hand and a smile that was sinful enough to rival the devils.

"i don't know, why?"

"we haven't played the balloon and dart game and carnival rules are you can't actually leave until you've popped at least one balloon." steve's hand pressed warm against the middle of your back, steering you gently out of the way of a group of boys, and the gesture made your heart trip over itself. it was so nonchalant, so absentminded as though he did it all the time and you had to dip your head to hide your smile.

"that's so not a rule."

"it's my rule. c'mon," he nudged you ever so slightly, sending you a look that was all flirtatious with the tiniest hint of teasing and dropped his hand from your back. cold settled over the skin he'd left bare and you fought against shivering. his eyes twinkled with the reflection from all the lights, bright and so easy to get lost in, the kind of eyes that would have you spilling all your secrets with just one look. "play with me."

a warm flush settled over your body at his words and your smile only grew wider, head shaking. steve's fingers brushed the back of your hand, light and fleeting and your skin prickled, mind slipping back to the way his finger felt wrapped around yours when he'd helped you from the car. there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, sparking behind each look, each accidental touch and it had your heart racing a mile a minute.

"what do i get out of it?"

"more time with me." when you sent him a mock unimpressed look he gave a dramatic but playful sigh and lifted his hand to lightly tug at the ends of your hair. "fine, if you win i'll buy you a cherry slurpee." he let go of your hair to hold his hand out to you, ready to shake but you only stared up at him, taking in the gentle shadows that fell across one side of his face. his lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks when he blinked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and you thought in that moment you'd let him completely ruin your life with no complaints.

"what about if you win?" the smile that curved his mouth was wicked, teeth glinting in the flashing lights and you held you breath when he dipped his head to your level. he was so close you could smell his cologne, the two of you now stopped completely dead in the middle of the carnival. people streamed passed on either side of you but you could only focus of steve, on the freckles dustin his nose, the soft pink that was dusting his cheeks and the curve of his cupid's bow.

"i get a kiss." he was still holding his hand between your bodies and even as his words made your head feel a little fuzzy, a little like you were floating, you settled your palm in his and gave one firm shake. you'd kissed plenty of boys before but for some reason you knew you'd never kissed a boy like steve before and if this was your only chance, you'd take it.

"deal."

turns out you had absolutely awful aim, each of your three darts missed the balloons, wedging themselves into the wall around them instead. steve tried to stifle his laughter from beside you, one hand covering his mouth to hide his blossoming grin. he wasn't exactly laughing at your inability to hit a target, more at the fact you were incredibly adorable when you got wound up. your brows refused to leave their furrowed state, lips pouted dramatically when you tilted your chin slightly to meet steve's gaze.

"this is rigged." you complained, voice nothing but a whine and steve bit back another grin, reaching out for the last of your darts. your eyes twinkled with the overhead lights, dark shadows tickling across the tops of your cheeks each time you lowered your lashes in a blink. steve was certain you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen and he prayed the dampness of his palms wouldn't effect his ability to throw when he took his turn. he'd seen the way you'd been eyeing the large dolphin and was determined that you'd take it home with you. girls never forgot guys who won them giant plushies, it was a well known fact.

"you just gotta hold the dart right, here, i'll show you." he stepped in behind you, dropped his head until his lips grazed your ear, breath hot against your neck and he tried not to let the smell of your perfume cloud his senses. a shiver tingled along your spine, flutters erupting in your tummy as your heart gave an unsteady thump in your chest. steve was pressed so close to you, his chest against your back and it made you feel giddy, a giggle bubbling in your throat. "hold your hand out." his words were low and had a slight rasp to them and it was then that you realised he could ask anything of you with that voice, a voice that sounded like sex and sin incarnate and you'd do it without a second thought.

after doing as he said, steve slipped the dart into your hand, positioning it how he wanted and then curled his fingers around yours, his skin warm and almost comforting. he pressed a little bit closer to you, lifted your arm, and aimed the dart at the board. "just look straight down your arm, find the target and throw." he was slow in drawing away from you, fingers skimming lightly over your waist and you were worried your throw would go askew just because of the effect he had on you. you took in a deep breath and let the dart fly, eyes widening when it actually hit the balloon this time, body twisting so you could grin at steve.

"might have to join a dart team, i could go pro." you giggled lightly, knocking your shoulder into his arm as he picked up the first of his own darts. the smile he sent you was no short of teasing.

"i'm not sure you're ready to go pro just yet, sweetheart," the term of endearment rolled easily off his tongue, went straight to your heart and made it flutter but he didn't even seem to realise. like the way he'd pressed his hand to your back, it felt so natural, like it was a daily occurrence between the two of you. he held the dart just as he'd showed you and then aimed it at the first balloon, bicep straining ever so slightly against the material of his polo shirt. you tried not to stare, tried not to let it distract you but you were a sucker for arms and god were steve harrington's impressive. like you expected, he landed the dart exactly in the centre of the red balloon, the pop echoing around you and he threw you a triumphant smile, one that sent goosebumps along your arms. "i think a few more lessons with me should do the trick though."

"no fair, you already told me you played basketball in high school, that gives you an advantage." steve picked up his second dart and sent you an incredulous look over his shoulder, gaze linger a few seconds on your pout.

"how does basketball give me an advantage at darts?" his second dart hit the middle balloon and you rolled your eyes, huffing as you leant against the wooden stall.

"i don't know, they're both sporty."

"carnival darts is far from sporty." he popped the third and final balloon and took a little bow, running his hand through his hair to push it back off his face. steve tapped the tip of your nose and sent you a lopsided, toothy smile before turning to the older man working the stall. he asked for the large dolphin, taking it with a mumbled thank you and then held it up between both of your bodies, waving one of the fins.

"what are you gonna name him?"

"me?"

"yes," he drawled lightly, cocking his head to one side. "he's yours so obviously you get to name him."

"but you won it."

"for you. i saw how you kept eyeing it up, why do you think i tried so hard throwing those darts? i wasn't trying to impress larry." something settled warm and fuzzy in your chest at that, an overwhelming feeling of happiness washing over you, so sudden that you could only gawk at steve as he started to lead the two of you away from the stall and back through the crowd. you blinked up at him, at this incredibly beautiful and equally as charming boy who'd just won you a plushie on a silly dart game because he'd caught you looking at it. you knew fine well he hadn’t even tried with the darts, you knew it had come easily to him but you didn’t mind, the fact he’d won something for you twisting up your insides.

“i don’t know, i saw the way you were eying him when he turned around.” you teased, huffing a laugh as steve hit your chest playfully with the dolphin, letting go of its tail so you had to make a grab before it hit the floor. you caught the way he rolled his eyes at you but his smile was unmistakable, wide and completely head spinningly pretty. “finny.”

“sorry?”

“i’m gonna name the dolphin finny.”

“finny?” steve was looking at you like you’d grown a second head but you only lifted the dolphins fin as he head minutes before and waved it.

“y’know, because fins.” his laugh was a startled one but one you wanted to commit to memory. you wanted to make steve harrington laugh for the rest of your life.

“that’s truly awful.”

“it’s cute.”

“it’s ridiculous.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“you’re cute.” you both fell silent at that, steve nudging into you as your body went a little hot. his playfulness surprised you, you most certainly hadn’t imaged having this amount of fun when he’d first asked you out, you hadn’t thought he’d be so flirty or teasing but it had made him all the more likeable. “c’mon i’ll buy you that slurpee and then drive you home, yeah?” disappointment swirled low in your tummy because you weren’t ready to say goodnight to steve, you’d spend the entire night walking around the carnival in the dark if you got to hear more of his stupid jokes and stories about his friends.

“but i didn’t win.” you pointed out, following him through the laughing crowds. people were starting to head out, making their way towards the exists, arms stuffed full of toys and candies. watching the groups of laughing children you wondered if you looked as happy as they did, if your eyes twinkled just as much.

“no but like i said, you’re cute.”

“i had an amazing time tonight.” you glanced up at steve from beneath your lashes, smile suddenly shy now that the two of you were standing on your porch. he was standing over you, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and it was ridiculously how much you liked him, how much you wanted the night to go on forever. his hair was ruffled from the wind, a lot more messy than when the night started and thoughts of running your fingers through it, tugging at the ends went racing through your mind.

“me too, i’ve never met someone who’s so bad at carnival games.” you shoved lightly at his arm with one hand, your other clutching the dolphin. steve only grinned at you, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet.

“i’m just out of practice that’s all.”

“yeah? i’m more than willing to get you up to standard.”

“it’s a date.” silence fell over you, two kids grinning like idiots in the pale moonlight, neither one wanting to look away and break the moment. steve’s eyes flickered from your own to your lips before tracking back up, his throat bobbing on a swallow. you remembered the deal, if he won he got a kiss and you thought that’s what he was going to say but instead he poked his finger into the dolphins head and nudged his own back towards his car.

“i should probably go before your aunt starts peaking through the curtains.” your heart fell a little because you so badly wanted to kiss him, you’d been thinking about how soft his lips were, how sweet he’d taste all night and you’d made a deal right? in a moment of boldness you tilted your head and raised your eyebrows.

“aren’t you forgetting something?” steve looked confused as he cocked his head to the side, eyes flitting between both of yours and you could see him working over what he could have possibly forgotten. "i owe you a kiss right? since you won and all." his cheeks turned a subtle pink and he half shrugged his shoulders.

“it wasn't serious, i mean, you don't really owe me anything, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to. i wasn’t like forcing you into kissing me." his rambling was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen and with a grin you stepped closer, settled your hand against the soft skin of his arm.

“a deals a deal and if i'm being completely honest i've been thinking about kissing you since you picked me up."

“you have?” his voice had dropped to a whisper and he’d closed what little space there was left between you. finny hung limp at your side, steve’s chest warm as it settled against yours, your head tipping back to meet his eyes, his own dipping down. he slid one hand along your jaw, cupping it lightly and grazed his thumb over your cheek and you were certain he could feel the erratic fluttering of your heart through both your clothes.

“yeah.”

“god me too.” with that he caught your lips in his, mouth soft and gentle over yours, slowly coaxing kiss after kiss out of you. it was unhurried and tentative, a light caress of his lips over yours but it sent tingles up your spine, your arm wrapping around his neck, fingers sinking into his hair. you were right, you’d never kissed anyone like steve before, his mouth was careful, his fingers tilting your head a little further into his and he tasted like the toffee he’d earlier eaten. he held you against him like you might break, like one wrong touch would shatter you both and you did just that by tugging on the locks at the nape of his neck.

steve groaned and nipped lightly at your bottom lip, pulling back slightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. his breath tickled your lips, warm and comforting and you wanted to pull him back in but he’d turned to kiss your cheek. his voice was slightly gravelly when he spoke, mixed with a breathless laugh.

“i really should go otherwise i’m gonna get us both into trouble.” you could only blink, mind foggy and legs a little weak and steve pressed a few last kisses to your mouth and then to your forehead. “let me take you out tomorrow? to dinner or something.”

“i’d like that.” you nodded with a soft smile and his turned full blown, eyes crinkling at the corners. it was one of those smiles that would have you tripping over your words and forgetting your own name. he kissed you again, for good measure, to make sure you were real and he hadn’t just dreamt the whole thing in his car and then patted the dolphins head.

“goodnight, y/n. goodnight, finny.” you snorted a laugh and whacked the plushie into his arm, watching him hide his laugh behind his hand as he made his way down the porch steps. there was a slight spring to his step, an extra bubbly sway to his arms that made you realise he felt just as giddy and out of sorts as you did.

“night, steve.”

[prokopetz]

On the topic of the Halloween tropes post, I could think of at least one example of most of those tropes, but I don't play enough indie horror games to get ALL of them.

Got some relevant recommendations? Spooky Season doesn't end 'til January!

(With reference to this post here.)

Sure, with the caveat that I'm not going to specify which of the cited metanarative horror tropes appear in each example – that would be spoiling things, after all. I'm also going to skip anything super widely reviewed and focus on the more obscure stuff, so no giving me a hard time for leaving out Doki Doki Literature Club. =P

Discover My Body is at the top of this list for alphabetical reasons, but it's also a great one to kick things off with. It's a narrative point and click game where you play as a medical intern observing a volunteer as their body is slowly consumed by a fungus. Packs an amazing quantity of body horror into a very short playing time. Free to play.

eversion is one of those games where everything looks cheerful and then surprise it's really a horror game. Sort of a precision puzzle-platformer, though light on the "precision" and heavy on the "puzzle" – most of the challenge comes down to routing, not execution.

The Fall is a point-and-click adventure game masquerading as a light metroidvania, in which you play as the onboard AI of suit of powered armour, tasked with getting your incapacitated pilot to safety. At the time of this posting, it's 80% off for the next 12 hours thanks to the Steam Hallowe'en sale.

Lily's Well is, I'm going to warn you right up front, one of those "awful shit happens to a cute little girl" games. It's handled in a mostly text-based, fate-to-black fashion, though, without any of the leering that often characterises the genre. It's about a girl who's been left alone and told not to leave the house; she, of course, does not listen.

NaissanceE is a first-person exploration title of the "you wake up in some alien ruins and need to find your way out" variety. Mostly a walking sim with some puzzle elements. Free to play.

Ossuary is a surreal quasi-RPG set in purgatory, in which the gameplay is built around inventory puzzles based on gathering and equipping various sins (which are apparently physical objects). Nonlinear and kind of obtuse – don't be afraid to consult a guide.

Perfect Vermin is a gory, low-bit first person action game where you're tasked with identifying shapeshifting monsters that impersonate furniture and killing them with a sledgehammer. If the aesthetic of this one grabs you, you should also check out the developer's prior title, Swallow the Sea; both are free to play.

Please, Don't Touch Anything is sort of pushing the definition of "horror game", but my post, my rules. As the title suggests, it's a locked-room exploration game where you're presented with a mysterious control panel and sternly advised not to touch it.

Stray Cat Crossing is what you might get if you took one of those super-artsy psychological horror JRPGs and took out all the combat, leaving only the exploration and puzzle-solving elements. Content warnings for child injury (including eye trauma) and death.

The Swapper is a twin-stick puzzle game whose central mechanic involves the use of a gun which can create copies of yourself and "swap" your consciousness among them. In spite of the visuals, the horror is almost entirely psychological rather than visceral.

They Breathe is a linear survival game about a frog exploring a flooded forest. Short, minimalist, and unreasonably effective at communicating a narrative with no narration whatsoever.

We Know the Devil is a branching-path visual novel about a trio of kids at a Christian summer camp being forced to participate in a bizarre ritual where they're left alone in a cabin overnight to confront the Devil. Strong themes of religious abuse, in case that wasn't clear!

(Widely reviewed games that I considered but ultimately left off in order to avoid loading down the list with stuff you've likely already heard of include Axiom Verge, the aforementioned Doki Doki Literature Club, INSIDE, Omori, OneShot, Oxenfree, Return of the Obra Dinn, and Yume Nikki. If I've guessed wrong and any of these have escaped your radar, definitely check them out as well.)

EDIT: As a reminder for everyone trying to add their own recs, if you include off-site links in a reblog, Tumblr automatically hides it from the notes pane and nobody but you can see it. Drop those titles without links if you want your recs to be seen by anyone who isn't you or me!

[lucifers-nipple-piercing]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 | 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙!𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

priest!Levi x fem!religious!reader smut

i have not been able to get this idea out of my head. will probably be two parts. sorry if it's not entirely accurate! I was raised christian but not catholic

cw: non-con/coercion, sacrilegious, Catholicism, mild age-gap, corruption, virginity kink kinda, 18+ only!!

Levi's grip on his Bible tightened as he saw you walk through the church doors, greeting Father Smith with a smile. You were dressed modestly, but your dress hung snugly around your breasts and ass. He watched the way they moved with your steps as you walked down the aisle.

Levi caught his shameful thoughts, mumbling a quick prayer for forgiveness. He opened his Bible to a random page, pretending to focus on it.

It had been like this for nearly a month. You were new to the area and had quickly become a valued member of the church. You were always there--volunteering, annotating your Bible, praying. Such dedication was rare, much more so among younger people. But you had been brought up by strict, Catholic parents. You were sheltered. The Church was all you knew.

Levi suspected you'd eventually stray from your devout loyalty as you got used to being on your own and began socializing with people other than your church friends. The young priest prayed for this day. Others might be fooled by the sweet front you put on, but he knew what you were. Temptation. Sin. The Devil.

He had been a Christian for his entire life. Enough to devote his life to Christ ten years ago. He had never had much of an interest in love and sex, so the sacrifice of a celibate's life had never bothered him. Until now.

Watching the way your pretty dresses hugged your form, the way you smiled softly when you caught his eye... everything about you made his faith waiver and his cock twitch.

"Father Ackerman?"

Levi snapped back to reality, looking up to see you smiling politely.

He cleared his throat. "Good morning, y/n."

"Good morning!" you chirped, "I picked up some wine for communion, where should I leave the bottles?"

Levi resisted the urge to glance down at your cleavage. "You can stick it in the storage closet by the organ."

"Okay! I'll go--Oh!" your gaze fixed on his feet, "Father, your shoe is untied."

Before Levi could respond, you had dropped to the floor and started tying the laces.

Levi's jaw clenched, his mind running wild with the idea of you on your knees. How badly he wished you'd just look up with those big, innocent eyes and undo his pants, wrapping your hand around his--

"There!" You looked up, smiling, then blushed. "Sorry," you stood "I hope I didn't weird you out... I wasn't really thinking..." you laughed awkwardly.

"No, it's--" Levi's voice came out gravely and he quickly coughed, "it's fine."

"Okay! Well, I should get busy. Have a good day!" You beamed, turning to carry on with your chores.

"Yeah," Levi glanced down at his pants, thankful he had chosen tight boxers today. "You too."

....

"I'll lock up."

"You sure? I really don't mind." Erin looked up from his papers.

"Yeah. You stayed late yesterday."

He chuckled. "Well... Don't have to tell me twice."

Levi watched, silent, as the man finished his work and packed up, bidding him a good night.

Left to his own, he made his way to the sanctuary. It was a beautiful building and he took a moment to appreciate the tall, stained-glass windows and ornate pillars. He stopped in front of the alter, staring up at the large window depicting the crucifixion. He slowly sunk to his knees, suddenly aware of all the holy figures staring down at him.

"Father..." Levi started, "I fear I am falling victim to temptation. Even now, as I pray, lustful thoughts of her fill my mind." He takes a few deep breaths.

"I pray that you will give me strength during this, and help me to lead the righteous path. Please Father, protect me from sin and the temptations of Lucifer."

...

Levi watched through the ornate screen as the old woman walked away. This was the fifth time she had come to ask forgiveness for watching reality TV. He still wasn't sure exactly how that was a sin, but she seemed adamant it was and his attempts to reassure her had done nothing.

He glanced at his watch in the dim light. He had less than an hour left. If he was lucky, no one else would come in. He had never enjoyed taking confessions. He had met quite a few people who enjoyed being in the know of all the church drama, but he couldn't care less.

There was an echoing click as the heavy doors of the cathedral swung open, the sound of pouring rain growing louder then fading again. The click-clack of heels on marble signaled the woman approaching the confessional box. A shadow covered the window, then a nervous voice spoke.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

Levi's pulse quickened as the familiar sound of your voice broke the silence.

"My last confession was, um, a year ago. I..." There was a long pause.

Levi sat in anticipation, wondering what sins such a sweet, pure girl could have.

"I've been having sinful thoughts. I've tried to ignore them. I've been praying constantly but... last night I... I gave in."

The priest adjusted his pants, his mind running wild. "What was it you gave into?"

There was a long silence. "I um... I'm sorry... it's shameful to talk about. I touched myself," you murmured.

Levi had to hold back a groan at the thought. The sweet angel adored by the church, God's obedient little girl, splayed out on her bed as she fingered herself for the first time.

"I see..." Levi swallowed, palming himself through his slacks. "Can you elaborate so I can better understand?"

"Elaborate?" Your voice wavered.

"I must better understand your sin to offer an appropriate pension."

"Of course.... Um, well, I've had sexual urges for a while but they've been getting worse recently... I've been less resilient. Last night I was reading a novel and I got to a sex scene. I usually skip past them, I always have, but I got curious this time and I read it. It was very inappropriate; so... rough and violent but..."

"But what?"

"I liked it."

Levi gritted his teeth, partly in arousal and partly in pain from his erection. "What about it did you like?" He slowly unzipped his pants, pulling his throbbing cock out. He had masturbated before, but it had been quite some time; he had to hold back a groan as his hand wrapped around his shaft.

"I had always thought of sex as something gentle and quick. Everything I have learned has taught me it is more for than man's enjoyment than for the woman's, but that wasn't the case here at all." You paused, seeming to think for a moment, "The male character focused on the woman, he did things to pleasure her before he penetrated her."

Levi hummed in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering closed as he stroked himself to her voice.

"And when they did start having penetrative sex, he was... violent! He was choking her and hitting her and I was thinking to myself how horrible it was but I..."

"You what?"

You shifted in your seat, trying to push down the knot in your stomach. "I could feel my... I could feel a burning between my legs."

Levi slowed his strokes enough for his voice to come out even "And what did you do?"

"I put the book down and I just laid there... Imagining the scene in my head, imagining myself as the woman. Could I really enjoy something so mean and painful? I think part of me doing what I did was to see if I really was attracted to those things... I was just rubbing my thighs together at first but I was just so curious what it would feel like and I couldn't resist reaching down there and..."

"What did you do, y/n?"

You blushed, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. "I started rubbing myself and--and I found my um... my entrance and pushed my fingers in and started m-moving them."

Levi audibly groaned, furiously pumping his cock. It was taking all of his willpower not to break through the thin wooden panel and fuck you against a pew. He wondered what soft and sweet sounds you'd make as your innocence was taken from you.

The thought pushed him over the edge, and he gritted his teeth as cum shot out onto his hand and pants

"Father?"

Levi struggled to catch his breath, head still spinning from the high, "Yeah?"

"W-what's my penance?"

"What you experienced is very common. Lust is something even the Godliest of people face." He had to have you. He couldn't stand it. God be damned, he had to have you. "One of our pastors will be out of town, tomorrow. Come to church tomorrow night and help with the extra work and you will be forgiven."

part 2 coming soon :)

[woundlingus]

Sabriel needed to happen in the woods in one of those dirty little tents in the middle of the night in the AU world the same night that Lucifer brought Sam back and paraded him around the camp like his prize dog, ringing the bell loud and clear that Sam Winchester is a coward who would submit to the devil and dash any chance Sam would ever get of finding community with these people who already are so wary of angels, now out of all the angels Sam is the devil’s bitch to these people and he brought Satan to haunt their refugee camp because he’s too weak to die like a man.

It happens wordlessly and all at once because when Gabriel comes to check on Sam he can’t find the right words to say because it’s too horrible and he knows it all too personally so he says nothing at all, and Sam is too fragile to try and hand hold Gabriel through experiencing empathy right now, so the silence sits heavy and thick with the intimacy of knowing what the other has seen and experienced and it’s suffocating them and the space is so small they’re already basically crammed together and can feel each others breath, and they thought they were going to die out there and they still just might because it’s dangerous, because Lucifer is outside lurking in their camp, because Gabriel doesn’t have any real intention of surviving this either way.

The first kiss is all teeth and tongue, and barely a spared thought enough to zip the door shut behind Gabriel before he’s pressing Sam into the floor to grind against him with a hunger that says this has been more than an impulse decision and more like a quietly brewing desire that’s lingered in the back of his mind for some time. It’s rough and dirty, grabbing hands, and spit for lube. They’re a mess of trading sadomasochistic tendencies without any real struggle for dominance- neither of them are particularly capable of it after everything they’ve been through but there’s a simple comfort in the giving and taking of pain and passing the roles between them like addicts chasing the next quite literal hit while maintaining that safety net of knowing neither of them are actually going to dominate the other. Gabriel grabs Sam by the throat to hold him down and despite his short stature the guy is packing some surprising muscle under that jacket and it’s enough to subdue even Sam while in his weakened resurrected state, Gabriel takes Sam’s ability to control his own body by holding him down, and in turn Sam rakes his nails down Gabriel’s throat hard enough to draw blood. Sam would come back around with the sweet release of Gabriel’s fingers allowing the blood to reach his brain right before the lights went out, and they would flip their positions so Sam could press sweet kisses to Gabriel’s wounded skin and it would make them both moan when Sam runs his tongue over Gabriel’s injuries to lap up his blood and the mingling grace that rises to the surface to heal the cuts, and consumes it wholly, connecting them in their combined sins, and making a mockery of the hell they’ve both been through at the hands of demons who aimed to own them by taking pleasure in their shared perversion of the agony. It’s hot and sweaty and the tent beads with humidity.

They’re bad people. They’re cowards. They’re weak and created specifically for being dominated. They’re not aiming for there to be a winner here, they just crave the punishment. For leading Lucifer to camp, for not being strong enough to protect Sam to begin with. When you’re so filled with agony and shame there’s a release to being in the presence of someone who doesn’t need you to be pretty about your trauma, and right now in the dark of the night they offer that solace to each other with their bodies.

Gabriel would wind up over Sam and gently shush him when he whimpers that it burns as he fingers him, and Sam would clamp his hand over Gabriel’s mouth to silence him so they don’t draw attention when he finally fucks him.

Neither of them particularly mind the submission to the others acts against them because the sick and broken parts of them say this feels good and normal, the quieter but worse part says that if they like this then maybe they liked all of it all along, but they’re certainly not going to admit that to anyone nor do they have to because Gabriel will stay until the tent starts to lighten with the grey haze of the dawning sun and then he will wordlessly slip out and Sam won’t try and stop him. He wont try and stop him until Gabriel is saying goodbye, and by then it’s too late because Gabriel always knew he wouldn’t be coming home with them one way or another.

At least they had that to Gabriel, at least there was some final comfort in his last days to finally feel like he was no longer so alone in the world, that he let someone else bear witness to his humiliation and they found pleasure in it instead. Sam on the other hand is forced to live with it, because he has duty, because he has family. Sam will go home and his whole body will echo with the emptiness Gabriel carved out inside of him by first filling a hole he had grown to ignore with ease, and then ripping himself back out of it again with a cruelty that came so easy to a trickster. He had been known, he had been known wholly for just a short moment in time by someone other than Lucifer and it had been bliss. Now he’s alone again, and he must continue without

[4theluvofsapphos]

Devil’s Advocate - PART 1/2

Lucifer Morningstar (Sandman) x Dead!Reader

TW & A/N: R passes from an implied inebriated fall (DDDNE), Drinking, Smoking, Mentions of a high/drug related analogies/metaphors(?),

LATER TAGS TO NOTE: Heavy Sadism/Masochism, Blood + Blood Drinking, Slut-Shaming/Harsh Degrading, Dubious Consent (R is bound by contract, yet still consents + is sober, so I’m not sure if this is dubious consent or not, but I’m not taking any chances afhksdfj), Brief mentions of being apathetic towards death/life

WC: ~1.3K

Considering how you came to be acquainted with The Devil–some would even call you ‘friendly’--you hadn’t expected to be as deep into the murky depths as you were. Not only were you enticed by the embodiment of sin, but the idea made your brow crease and your palms begin to sweat. Your church always chided the children, telling them Satan was no martyr, no king. They said Satan was the ruler of the misfits, the outcasts, the uglies of the world.

In time, you came to understand that no one was an Angel. The closest that Heaven ever got to having an angel was Lucifer Morningstar. And even then, that didn’t last very long, did it?

As you grew into adulthood, becoming a misfit, an outcast, an ugly–it was inevitable. You remember the first time you peeked down the barrel of a bottle, flicked the sparker of a lighter. The teen angst got the best of you, and you never had it in you to care.

The ecstasy was heaven, the sin was salvation.

–

Your drinking buddy, Sal, said you were too cocky when you began dancing on the roof, holding the cheap bottle of Budweiser in one hand, a cigarette in the other. You were two bottles in, and a pack and a half down.

You didn’t care. Why would you? Life was so bland, like the same flavor of the same food. It had always been that way, since the day you realized you wouldn’t amount to much more than an office worker. You had no passion, no drive. Dying wouldn’t be terrible, living wasn’t terrible. But you craved more. And so you chased that rush, that hit of adrenaline when you balanced on a bridge high above the crashing waves, or when you set your hand on fire after covering it in hair gel, diving into the pool next to you to extinguish it.

Or like now, as you danced carelessly above your apartment, leaning over the edge and screaming along to the lyrics of the music, laughing loudly and throwing the finished cigarette over the edge. You watched it fall, the end glowing a deep orange, and suddenly you felt dizzy. The alcohol hit all at once, and instead of disappearing, you watched as the cigarette got closer, and closer, and closer. The realization didn’t hit you until you heard Sal scream after you, and in an instant, the rushing wind filled your head, you watched as the ground rushed closer to you in your periphery. Your eyes never straying from the falling cigarette, which distinguished on the cold pavement, and then…nothing.

—

Heat. The first thing to hit your senses when you began to rouse, was the heat. It was hot enough to make your nostrils burn as you took in slow, confused breaths.

Your throat felt dry…honestly, everything felt dry and aching, like you had just fallen 36 stories and landed head first on the floor you were currently laying on. When you finally decided to start moving and dared to crack open your eyes, you found that there seemed to be no ceiling, no moon, no sun, no stars. You hadn’t the faintest idea whether you were indoors or outside, if it was day or night. The sky was a dusted rose, a perpetual late evening or early morning.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, a gentle wind picked up– hot as well, unfortunately. With a little groan, you managed to get up, before quickly crumbling back to the floor. For whatever reason, the fall had seriously inhibited your ability to balance, or walk- really.

You had no idea where you were going, no idea what to do. When you glanced up from your hands and the smooth marble of the floor, your eyes caught on an opening at the end of the hall. Luckily, it didn’t look to be very far away.

So, with a sigh of personal defeat, you began to crawl. Even that was a struggle, yet you persisted. One hand, one knee, one hand, one knee. One hand-

“Going somewhere, starlight?”

—

END PT 1 HCJSJDJ THANKS FOR READING!!!

[avatarrecom]

Who did this to you

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader

Word count: 2629

Warnings: Child abuse, traumatic childhood, scars, angst.

Waking up in the body of an alien, of your enemy was... jarring, to say the least. Your skin color was suddenly streaked blue, your eyes golden. Suddenly you are three times the size you were when you were human. Suddenly you have a tail and cat-like ears. But, there are also positive changes. The doctors have had you do various physical exercises to see if everything is working properly. You soon noticed that you can run much faster than when you were human.

You also discovered that you can hear and see much better. And, unfortunately, you can also smell much better. You could smell that doctor What's His Name, had onion bread for breakfast this morning. Disgusting.

You sigh as you walk to the women's locker rooms. The colonel just conducted a briefing on your mission. To hunt down and kill the leader of the Na'vi insurgency, Toruk Makto, Jake sully.

You didn't know what to do when you saw the rest of your unit. When you were human, before you died, you found out that your entire unit was romantically involved with each other. You yourself were the newest and youngest addition to the team. You found out by accident when you walked into the barracks and found some of them in heated make-out sessions, while the others watched.

You were only eighteen at the time and you had grown up in a strict Christian household. Your parents were far from good parents, they may have been married, but you don't believe they ever loved each other. You never heard them say they loved each other, or that they loved you for that matter. During your youth they completely shielded you from the outside world. You were homeschooled, you were only allowed outside for fifteen minutes a day and then only in the fully fenced backyard and you had no friends, in fact, until your eighteenth birthday you had never seen a living person other than your parents. They cut off contact with their families, their friends and everyone they knew before disappearing from the radar. And then they had you, an unwanted child.

Your father believed he was your boss. You always had to obey him or there would be consequences. When you were twelve and had your first period, your father got it into his head that you had committed sins and that you were possessed by the devil. From then on, he beat your bare back every day with the iron pin of his belt. Every morning before breakfast and every evening before dinner. It was worse when he was drunk, which was pretty much all hours of every day. And your mother did nothing to stop him, she just watched with an emotionless look in her eyes and her umpteenth can of beer in hand.

The wounds on your back never really healed while you were still living at home, only after you ran away did they start to heal and now your entire back is covered in scars. The night before you turned seventeen, your parents had outdone themselves with how much they had to drink. You packed a bag with your few belongings and turned your back on the only family you've ever known. As far as you know, your parents have never looked for you.

You didn't know where to go until you met a female Marine recruiter, Gabby. She was a kind woman who offered you food and shelter and tended to your wounds. She talked about her job with so much pride. So many stories about how she helped people and how her Marine friends became her family.

You quickly decided to sign up to join the Marines. You were desperate for a family that would care about you, like Gabby always said they would.

After finally completing your basic training, you were notified that you would be going on tour to Pandora. Your superior saw your skill in hand-to-hand combat and how easily you handled different types of weapons. She told you that she knew the head of security at Hell's Gate and that you would be joining his team. For five years you would go on tour to Pandora. You said goodbye to Gabby, promised to visit her when you got back, and boarded the rocket that would take you, and a bunch of other people, to the spaceship that would then head to Pandora.

It only took a few months for you to discover the true nature of your unit's relationship. You didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, you didn't mind, because everyone should be able to love whoever they want. But on the other hand, you were convinced that they would never see you as one of them, as part of their family.

Walker and Z-dog discovered your feelings and took it upon themselves to explain to you how their relationship worked and patiently answered all your questions. They were very surprised by your questions, it was as if you had never experienced or even seen love. They wrote it off because you were still young and thought that you had simply never been in love and that you had respectful parents who only showed their love for each other behind closed doors. They couldn't have been more wrong.

Your unit did their best to include you, even though your relationship with them was different than they had with each other. And slowly, they fell for you. You felt more and more for your unit, love, if you understood Z-dog and Walker correctly, but you were afraid of their rejection, so you kept it to yourself.

Lopez was ultimately the one who made the decision and spoke for the entire unit when he approached you. As a result, you lost your breath on his kisses. And so, you became not only the newest edition of the team, but also in the relationship. And then there were eleven in your weird little self-made family.

You loved your partners dearly, you had plenty of accumulated love to give out. You loved Miles playing the intimidating colonel, but giving you quick secret kisses every moment he could. You loved how Mansk had built a wall around himself through his sunglasses, but he let you break through his wall when no one outside your relationship was there to see it. You loved it when Lyle made his dirty jokes, and the others rolled their eyes when they had to hear his jokes for the hundredth time. You loved it when Walker and Z-dog pulled you away from the others so you could have a fun girls' night full of knee-shaking kisses. You loved it when you could lay your head in Prager's lap and he would read to you from his book while he ran his fingers through your hair. You loved it when Fike and Brown pulled you by the hand through the hallways as you ran away from the angry staff because of their latest prank. You loved it when Ja had a tight grip on your waist during your music listening session and he pressed light kisses to your neck. You loved how Lopez held you on his lap while he taught you Spanish.

But the bliss was short-lived. A few months into your relationship, you were assigned to knock down the giant tree 'Hometree' for the metals that lay beneath it.

The last thing your current, blue self remembers is that some kind of scan was made of your brain. And then, you woke up in the lab on board the ship. Then the various tests, watching a video in which your past self tells you that you have died and then Miles' briefing.

And that brings you to your current situation, thinking about your reunion with your partners. Your entire thoughts are completely mixed up. You don't know how to feel about everyone you've loved now being trapped in gigantic blue bodies.

On the one hand you are happy because you can still be with them. But on the other hand, they also died, neither of you can ever return to Earth to visit families, or Gabby. And you are insecure, you don't know whether everyone still loves you and whether they still want a relationship. You feel alone again and you wish you could talk to Gabby, you think to yourself as you walk into the locker room to change from your comfortable sweats to the tactical gear. 

You turn anxiously to the floor to ceiling mirror. Squeezing your eyes shut and turning your back to look over your shoulder in the mirror. You pray for your scars to be gone, but when you open your eyes you see the bitterly familiar scars. Sighing, you gather your equipment. If you're quick, you can get changed before Walker and Z-dog enter the locker room.

Despite your love for your unit, you have never felt comfortable enough to tell your lovers about your traumatic childhood, and about the scars that cover almost your entire back. While you've gone quite far in terms of kissing and full-on make-out sessions, you've always stopped your lovers when they wanted to go further, saying you weren't ready yet. Luckily, they always accepted your refusal with a loving kiss and a cuddle session.

You take off your hoodie, deliberately facing the door, just in case someone walks in. You're so deep in thought that you don't notice the door opening. "Hey Sweets!" you hear Z-dog say cheerfully. "Why did you leave so quickly? I didn't even get to give you an 'I'm glad you're alive again and I love you so much' kiss," she pouts.

You freeze and your hoodie falls to the floor. You don't dare pick it up, afraid they'll catch a glimpse of your scars and your camo shirt is too far away. "You still love me?" you ask, hoping to keep them occupied so they don't notice how tense you are. But unfortunately your plan isn't working.

Z-dog strides towards you with long, fast steps and comes to a stop in front of you, her nose almost touching yours. "Sure sweetie, just because we're blue now doesn't change how I, how any of us, feel about you." You let out an awkward, shaky laugh. Z-dog frowns and looks over her shoulder at Walker with a concerned look, who looks back with a similar look.

“Are you still upset about what happened?” Z asks worriedly as she looks back at you. You nod, hoping she'll leave it alone. “I know the perfect solution for that,” she grins, before placing her hands on your hips and kissing you deeply. You don't know what to do. You can be sure that if you pull away abruptly, they will become even more concerned. You decide to place your hands over Z's hoping she doesn't move them and kiss her back.

But unfortunately, before you can stop her, her hands slide to your lower back. She pulls away abruptly when she feels the ridges of your scars. "What is going on?" Walker asks, confused, she was enjoying the mini show that you and Z-dog put on.

Z-dog presses her hand further into your back, her fingers brushing over the ridges. She looks at you with wide eyes before turning you around so she can see your back.

“Who did this to you,” she asks with an icy tone. Your body starts to shake and you get tears in your eyes. You hear Walker walk towards the two of you and hear her soft gasp.

“Oh baby,” she breathes. She comes to stand in front of you and gently grabs your jaw in her hands. “My love, please tell me, who did this to you,” she begs softly. You shake your head, you don't want to burden anyone with this. This is your burden to bear and yours alone. You feel Z-dog slide her arms around your waist and she hugs you tightly against her front. She buries her face in your neck and you feel her lips on the pulse point. Walker presses her forehead against yours and nuzzles your nose with hers. You let your tears flow freely.

Suddenly there's a knock on the door and it opens before either of you can answer. Brown pokes his head in with Fike's head hanging comically beneath Brown's. "Why does it always take so long for women to get changed," Brown immediately complains. "What are you doing?" he immediately adds, confused.

Z-dog automatically takes a step towards the door to tell the two troublemakers to fuck off. But this causes the two to see your damaged back and their relaxed vibe immediately turns to shock, anger and Z sees the concern in their eyes.

Fike throws the door open and it hits the wall with a loud bang. “Who did this to you,” Brown snarls with an icy look in his eyes as he strides towards you with quick steps. Z-dog gives him a warning look so he doesn't make you more upset. Brown's gaze softens as Walker lets go of your face and he can see the tears on your cheeks, wiping them away with his thumbs. “Don't cry baby,” he whispers to you.

"COLONEL! JA! YOU HAVE TO COME HERE, NOW!" Fike exclaims, formalities and rank be damned. You hear several quick footsteps in the hallway and mentally prepare yourself to share your trauma.

"WHAT! IS SOMEONE HURT?!" Do you hear Ja, the medic calling. He bursts into the locker room and looks around in panic. The Colonel almost stands on his tail in a hurry to get into the locker room as well. You see the rest of your unit standing in the hallway and they almost fall over each other to see what's going on.

Suddenly you hear the most primal animal growl you've ever heard. Everyone looks at the colonel in shock, no one knew the Na'vi could make such sounds. “Who did this to you,” the colonel commands an answer. You just shake your head frantically and start crying harder. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel Walker hug you again. In the background you can also hear your lovers in the hallway growling and whispering to each other in shock.

Then you feel cold hands on your back and you jump into a defensive position. “Relax, it's me,” you hear Ja's soothing voice. You relax a bit and let Ja examine your back. "You can't see anything in this, can you?" you hear Prager ask. “This is not the body that suffered the wounds.” Ja nods absently. "Do you feel any pain anywhere?" he asks worriedly. You shake your head. “Darlin' you really gotta tell me who did this to you,” you hear the colonel say carefully.

You sigh, breaking Walker's hug, letting Brown wipe away your tears again and turning to your Colonel. Once you have taken a deep breath, begin your story. From your traumatic childhood, your father and his belt, the alcohol abuse and the experience of being homeless.

As you speak, you notice that your loved one is holding their breath and with every word you say, with every event you recount, they seem angrier and angrier.

When you have finally finished your story you will feel enormously relieved. "Lyle, find whoever is in charge here, we have another mission that needs to be done first." The Colonel says in a calm, icy voice. "Yes sir, what should I say when he asks where we are going?" Lyle asks, his tone similar to Quaritch's. "Earth, there are two people we need to hunt down."

You blink in surprise. ‘Well, shit’s about to go down.’

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part forty-one: "The First Half of the Trip"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt begin the first half of your Christmas road trip towards Chicago.

Or

Both of you try to stay entertained in a car for six hours.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: A fun, fluffy piece that covers the first half of Matt and Reader's Christmas roadtrip! The next piece is a smupdate featuring some angry hotel sex. You can find all the installments for this series on tumblr here, and if you're enjoying it, let me know!

Two and A Half Hours Into the Drive

Looking over your shoulder and changing lanes, you laughed lightly at Matt beside you. “That is literally the weirdest road trip snack I’ve ever seen by far,” you teased him.

“What?” Matt asked, his mouth full of banana as he shrugged. “You have a problem with fruit?”

“No,” you countered, shaking your head. “But I’ve never known anyone to pack apples and bananas to eat on a road trip. It’s like the perfect time to binge on junk food–we’re stuck in a car after all.”

“Well fruit is better than the processed cheese crackers you like so much,” he teased back. 

Glancing over your shoulder at him, you saw him raise the banana to his mouth and take another massive bite of it. You couldn’t fight the grin that spread on your face when he smiled back at you. His cheeks were stuffed with banana and he looked like an adorable chipmunk as he smiled. Your attention returned to the road, your music lightly playing over the stereo.

“First off, Cheez Its are amazing," you told him. "They're the best road trip snack. But you make a fair point,” you conceded. “I know you’re not a fan of processed foods, but that’s why I made that trail mix. Unsalted nuts and plain dried fruit with no added sugar. I even threw in some fancy dark chocolate. There's nothing overly processed in it.”

Matt’s hand reached across the center console between the two of you, his warm palm landing on your upper thigh. He squeezed your leg lightly and your heart fluttered in your chest at his touch.

“And I appreciate that more than you know," he replied. "That trail mix is honestly addicting. You’re going to have to make more of that for me when we get back.”

“You enjoy it that much?” you asked him curiously.

“I will do anything you ask if you make a big batch of it for me,” he stated seriously.

“Oh?” you asked, raising a brow.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his hand removed itself from your thigh. “You’re thinking about the black suit again?” he asked. “Aren’t you?”

Flushing, you shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, I am now,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, readjusting himself in his seat, “I will fuck you in the black suit if it gets me more of that trail mix. Granted, I’d do it even without the added incentive.” He shot you a sinful smirk that had you squirming in your own seat. “The way your body gets all worked up over it is definitely something, and I quite enjoy it,” he said, his tone lowering.

Swallowing hard, you shyly admitted, “There was something I wanted to do if you ever wore it again.”

Immediately Matt shifted in his seat, facing as fully towards you as he could with the seatbelt restricting him. Your left elbow was resting on the armrest of the door beside you, your thumbnail quickly slipping between your teeth. You chewed it nervously as Matt’s sightless gaze lingered on you.

“And does that something,” he asked slowly, his eyes scanning you carefully, “have anything to do with whatever is hiding in your suitcase that had you so flustered last night?”

Eyes widening, your teeth gnawed your thumbnail even quicker. You had hoped Matt had forgotten about that, even though you knew he wouldn’t have. Thinking about how Matt might react to the lingerie you had hidden in there, along with the fact that you’d packed the gifts from the Secret Santa game, your heart raced a little in your chest. Out of your peripheral, Matt’s head snapped down towards your chest. 

“Is there a podcast you want to listen to?” you asked quickly, changing the subject. “Or a certain album? We’ve been listening to my music for a bit now.”

Matt settled back into his seat beside you, your pulse slowing down a little with his attention off of you.

“No,” he answered lightly. “I don’t mind this music, it’s relaxing. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I can spot a diversion when I hear one. But I do intend to find out what’s in your suitcase before we get back to Hell’s Kitchen.”

Once again you shifted awkwardly in your seat, cheeks flushing. The sound of your music settled over the pair of you as you fell silent.

Four Hours into the Drive

“How do you manage to burn ready-to-bake cookies?” you asked Matt in shock, laughter bubbling out of you. “They’re basically already made! They give you the instructions right there on the package!”

Matt was laughing hard beside you, shaking his head. “My dad was the worst baker. And I was five , sweetheart,” he laughed out. “He just really wanted me to leave cookies out for Santa. Though really I think he just wanted to eat them himself." Matt chuckled lightly as he added, "But we burnt those to a damn crisp.”

You wiped a hand across your eyes, drying the couple of tears that had fallen during your laughter. The windshield wipers of the rental were on, snow gently falling down as you continued to drive along the interstate. It was near two-thirty in the afternoon now and you were both quite far from New York and getting closer to where you'd be stopping in Ohio for the night.

“He never tried to make them again with me,” Matt finished. “Instead we left out–” he paused, cracking up, “–a bowl of chicken noodle soup for Santa.”

“ What ?” you asked, immediately falling into another fit of hysterics.

Matt fell back into another round of laughter beside you. He was nodding his head as he recalled the memory. “Yes, that was what I picked out from our pantry. I thought Santa might’ve wanted something to warm him up. Figured he hadn’t had dinner yet, either. Just tons of cookies and milk.”

You shot Matt a look over your shoulder. “Aww, that’s so sweet. Little Matty looking out for Santa,” you half-teased, half-cooed.

“Don’t make me bring up your suitcase again,” Matt shot back, a dangerous smile on his face.

“Okay, okay,” you said quickly, dropping the tone. “So how did you usually spend Christmas mornings when it was the two of you?”

He exhaled a long sigh, the smile dulling to something soft on his face when you glanced over at him. His expression had you smiling lightly and wondering what his father would have been like to meet. He sounded like an amazing father with the way Matt spoke about him–always with a sort of gentle reverence–whenever he did talk about his dad with you. 

“Usually I woke up before the sun,” Matt finally said, voice quiet. “I’d wake him up. Jump on the bed, drag him out of the sheets. Beg him to let me open presents before he’d even had a cup of his morning coffee.”

“And did he let you?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Yeah, he did. Every year.” He paused for a long moment before he added, "And we always had blueberry pancakes on Christmas mornings. They were always his favorite and it eventually became mine, but I…usually never got those at St. Agnes."

A heavy weight felt like it hung in the air at Matt's words. You chanced a look at him beside you and he appeared lost in his thoughts. Chewing the inside of your cheek, your right hand shifted over on the center console, grabbing Matt’s hand that had been resting beside yours. Immediately his fingers curled back around your own. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at you.

“How’d your Christmas mornings often go?” he asked.

You smiled, remembering many different memories as your eyes remained on the road. Beside you, Matt was watching you with a curious smile. 

"I was usually the last of my siblings to wake up," you told him. "Which meant they were always dicks when they woke me." You laughed lightly, recalling a particular memory as Matt chuckled. "One year, Nate and Amber actually dumped me out of my bed. Just the two of them picking up one side of my mattress," you explained, "and then just rolling me right onto the hardwood floor." Your brows furrowed as you added, "I think that was the year I actually had a bloody nose before we opened presents. Because I fell on it." Matt laughed as a grin formed on your face. "My mom was so pissed at them. So of course they did it again next year. But they were smarter–" you said, fighting down a laugh of your own, "–they put some pillows on the floor for me to land on that time. So our mom wouldn’t find out."

Matt was laughing behind his hand, and the sight of him so happy in comparison to how he’d looked on the flight you'd both taken for Thanksgiving was easily worth the soreness in your ass a hundred times over. 

"Okay, so I have to ask since we're on the topic of Christmas," you began, Matt's laughter dying down beside you. "Eggnog–yay or nay with the fancy Devil senses?"

Instantly he made a face, his nose scrunching up as he shook his head. "Absolutely nay. It's disgusting," he told you. 

"But hot chocolate is a yay?" you asked curiously.

"The way you make it, yes," he answered, a charming smile slipping onto his face and lighting up his eyes. "Even more so if I get to taste it on your lips. Though,”  he continued, his tone turning into something sultry that rose the hair along your arms, “I quite enjoy tasting other things..."

You cleared your throat, focusing back on the road and not the handsome man beside you. "I'm trying to drive here, Matt," you murmured. "You should–should probably not try to distract the driver lest I crash the car." 

"Well the driver is quite distracting," he said, his gaze falling away from you. 

You tried to take a deep breath, focusing on the road before you. If you let yourself think too hard about his charming presence and what it did to you, you'd be needing to pull over and have him on the side of the road. And that was an unnecessary detour you both didn’t need. 

"Being trapped in a car with you when I need to focus is going to be difficult, isn't it?" you mumbled.

"Trust me," he said beside you, "I know. Your scent is everywhere. Kind of hard to ignore."

"Sorry…"

Five and A Half Hours Into the Drive 

“Fortunately there are other ways to get to Illinois from New York than by plane,” you said.

Thankfully the flurry of snow had come to an end about a half an hour ago. You were glad the weather wasn't as bad as it definitely could have been for this drive. You didn't feel like driving through a blizzard.

“Unfortunately the only other option is a more than twelve hour drive,” Matt added.

"Well…" you continued, thinking for a moment, "fortunately I have a driver's license." 

"Unfortunately your co-passenger is blind and can't help you drive," Matt countered quickly.

"Fortunately I just grabbed that coffee when I got gas," you answered. 

"Unfortunately that coffee might give you gas," he replied, amused. 

Your head snapped in his direction, jaw hanging open as your eyes widened. He was shaking with laughter as your cheeks burned. 

" Matt !" you shrieked.

"I'm only kidding, sweetheart," he managed out between laughs. "You wanted to play that game."

You waved a firm hand between the pair of you, shaking your head. "Okay, no more fortunately/unfortunately for you, Murdock," you stated. "You have officially ruined that game."

"Alright, alright," he replied, grinning. "I'm sorry. But I was only kidding. Though–” he said, fighting down a laugh, “–everybody has gas, sweetheart."

You ran your hand along your forehead, wishing you weren't driving right now so you could bury your face in your hands. Or bolt. You didn't want to talk about passing gas with Matt–especially since he had heightened senses.

"And this is the part where I change the topic before I push you too far past your comfort zone," Matt pointed out. "So…how much longer until we get to the hotel? I still don't have a functioning watch so I can’t tell."

"About forty more minutes or so," you answered. "Why, did all that talk about gas make you need a bathroom stop?" you teased.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but I uh, I can hear how tired your body is getting. From all the driving. Was wondering when you'd get a break," he answered. 

"Oh," you said softly. "Honestly, I’m fine. I think the way I broke up the drive was pretty decent, considering. But I’m curious, is this more preferable to flying then?" you asked him. "Because you seem to be having a significantly better time, but I can’t tell if you’re somehow just really good at pretending since we’re not in a plane."

“Vastly more preferable,” he answered. “The car isn’t remotely as loud as the plane and neither is the traffic. I’m mainly able to just focus on the both of us, not all the people they had jammed into a plane with all their scents and perfumes and detergent clouding the air." He paused, his attention shifting downwards to his lap. "It’s mainly just your scent and mine, sort of mixed together over the faint scent of the rental car and I…kind of like it, actually." 

Your stomach practically somersaulted inside of you at that information. "So the hotel we are stopping at I already booked ahead of time," you told him, changing the subject before your mind started going down those thoughts again. "I researched it and checked out all the reviews so hopefully you won't have a hard time there. Figured we can grab food nearby first for dinner before checking in. And maybe just relax for a bit before we sleep, unless there's something you want to do?" you asked, glancing over at Matt.

He was smiling back at you, shaking his head. "That sounds great, sweetheart. It'll just be nice for both of us to stop sitting in here," he answered. "If my legs are cramping up then I'm sure yours must be, too."

"Yeah," you agreed easily, "I could do with getting out of here for longer than the few minutes it takes to get gas or take bathroom breaks."

Matt snickered beside you and you shot him a curious look. He was fighting back a laugh, shoulders shaking. 

"What?" you asked him.

"Just resisting the urge to make a joke about gas again," he answered, shoulders shaking.

“Matt,” you whined.

“I said I was resisting the urge to!” he countered, grinning.

You ran a hand over your forehead again. "I am so glad I'm almost done driving for the day just in time for you to revert back to making fart jokes," you muttered. "You really do need to get out of this car."

In the seat beside you, Matt burst into a laugh that filled the car with the warmth of the sound. You rolled your eyes, grinning.

[technoturian]

RING OF BRASS // RING OF ASH - an eXu calamity playlist

[ Spotify ]

BRASS

01. Zayde Wølf - Golden Age Don't you know that we / We're living in a golden age / Don't you know that we / We're living in a golden age

02. Imagine Dragons - Warriors Here we are, don't turn away now / We are the warriors that built this town

03. [Nydus] Ellie Goulding - Burn We, we don't have to worry about nothing / 'Cause we got the fire, and we're burning one hell of a something / They, they gonna see us from outer space, outer space / Light it up, like we're the stars of the human race, human race

04. K/DA - The Baddest Way that I look should be breaking the law / If I don't got it, I take what I want / My circle small like a round of applause / You know that I love the sound of applause / You know I mean everything that I say / When you see me coming get out of the way / I came to slay, I came to slay / Back and I'm better and ready to stay

05. aeseaes - Plenty Everyone will know our name / Did you know that no two missteps are the same?

06. [Laerryn] Tribe Society - Kings I always wondered how far we could go / If we could break through the ceiling above us / There'd be no point of us looking below / We could be free / We could be free / Finally / We could be free

07. [Loquatius] Vance Joy - Like Gold Gold, when you see me / Hi, if you need me / Babe, that's the way it was / That's the history / Blue, how we used to roar / Like an open fire / That's the way it was / But that's history 

08. [Patia] Claire Wyndham - Kingdom Fall Underneath a spotlight / And all the splintered wood / Nothing here is shining / Shining like it should

09. Fall Out Boy - Centuries And just one mistake / Is all it will take / We'll go down in history / Remember me for centuries

ASH

10. Sleeping At Last - Earth Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house / But I put it out of my mind / Long enough to call it courage

11. Bastille - Pompeii Oh, where do we begin? / The rubble or our sins?

12. Mumford & Sons - Broken Crown But oh, my heart was flawed / I knew my weakness / So hold my hand / Consign me not to darkness

13. [Zerxus] Black Math - Flesh and Bone Break the truth inside of me / Climbed down to hell on the devil's tree / I clutched a branch of soot and flame / The thought that rose, to scorch my feet / I walk alone/ Beside myself / Nowhere to go / Ahh, this bleeding heart / That's in my hands / I fell apart

14. The Lumineers - Nightshade We were surrounded and the ending was near / All of the sudden, a ranger arrived, a savior appeared / Made it to safety, but the devil was here, oh no

15. [Cerrit] X Ambassadors - Eye of the Storm I believe in you / I believe in you / It's not over / I will stand in the eye of the storm

16. [Loquatius & Laerryn] Lily Kershaw ft. Goody Grace - Now & Then Remember the rooftop parties / Remember the friends / Remember the way I love you now / And the way I that loved you then

17. Lee DeWyze - Blackbird Song Pack your things / leave somehow / Blackbird song is over now

18. Phlotilla - Don't Fear The Reaper All our times have come / Here but now they're gone / Seasons don't fear the reaper / Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain / We can be like they are

19. CLOVES - Don't Forget About Me I just need to know / That you won't forget about me

20. Ingrid Michaelson - Men of Snow Oh one day you will go / Away from this / Oh one day you will know / We're men of snow / We melt one day

21. Zack Hemsey - End Of An Era (Instrumental)

BONUS 22. [Bolo] Queen - Killer Queen She's a Killer Queen / Gunpowder, gelatine / Dynamite with a laser beam / Guaranteed to blow your mind / Anytime

[aradiamegido]

Everyone knows what happened when the Devil tried to steal Johnny’s soul with a fiddling contest. No one ever talks about what happened afterwards.

When Johnny came back to his father’s house with a fiddle made of gold, he naturally wanted to know what had happened.

“Did you steal that?” his father asked.

“No, Dad, I won it.”

“Won it with who?”

“The Devil.”

Silence fell between the two of them.

“He’s a pretty good fiddler,” Johnny added. “Not as good as me, though.”

His father frowned. “Pride is a sin, son.”

“I know.”

“Still…” His father’s brows furrowed. “It’s not like God asked you to play. The Devil did that.”

Johnny nodded. “I played the song you taught me.”

His father’s face lit up. “And that’s what beat the Devil?”

“It was. He didn’t seem too keen on coming back, either.”

—

Word spread throughout the town before the week was out: Danny Peterson’s boy, Johnny, won a bet against the Devil using only his wits and his fiddle.

That Sunday, Father Lucas gave a sermon about pride. “The Devil is sin incarnate,” he said, “and when he made that bet with one of our own, he doubted our faith and elevated his pride. It was not skill that saved little Johnny, but faith in the Lord our God.”

Whispers spread throughout the congregation. They had heard Johnny play, and they knew that the Father was wrong.

For what it was worth, Johnny didn’t seem to care. He also didn’t play the gold fiddle that he had won. When asked, he claimed that it was too heavy to lift and play comfortably.

The nearest big city was days away, and since Johnny’s father was too worried about being jumped by bandits on the journey there, the fiddle lived in the attic.

Time went on, and Johnny grew up.

One day, as he was helping his dad collect crops on their farm, his father shouted and fell down, clutching his chest. Johnny raced over and turned him onto his back.

“Well, well, Johnny,” came a familiar voice from behind him.

Johnny turned around, and behind him stood the Devil, nine feet tall with horns that made him even taller, a tail with a wicked looking spike on the end and cloven feet on the dirt.

“Have you come for my father’s soul?”

The Devil nodded. “Indeed I have.”

“Well, you best scoot on out of here, because he’s a God-fearing man. You won’t be getting his soul today.”

“Is that so?” The Devil leered at him. “Because I think I know something you don’t.”

From his pack, the Devil pulled out a long scroll. He unfurled it and began to read: “I, Danny Peterson, do hereby bequeath my soul to the powers of Hell, so that I might be able to play the fiddle better than anyone else alive.”

Johnny was quiet.

“So,” the Devil continued, rolling up the scroll, “I suppose I’ll be taking your father down to Hell now.”

“No, I don’t think you will.”

“Excuse me?” The Devil raised an eyebrow.

Johnny shook his head. “I’m the best there’s ever been. Dad taught me how to play, and now I’m better than him. That’s how I was able to beat you. So, therefore, you didn’t make him the best fiddle player. He made me the best player.”

“Are you asking for a rematch?”

“I am.”

The two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. At last, the Devil nodded. “Go get your fiddle, Johnny.”

And Johnny turned and left the cornfield, returning in a few moments with his trusty old fiddle. The Devil seemed surprised at this.

“What happened to the fiddle I gave you?”

“I think it’s still in the attic.”

“You mean you don’t use it?” His eyes narrowed.

Johnny shrugged. “It’s too heavy to lift. Gold ain’t the best material to make a fiddle with.”

“Humph.” The Devil shook his head and took out a fiddle out of a case. This one was not made of gold, but was decorated with diamonds that were so dazzling that Johnny could hardly look at it without squinting.

“Now, shall I?”

Without waiting for an answer, the Devil rosined up his bow and began to play. The sky grew dark with thick, heavy clouds, and the air began to smell like the aftermath of a thunderstorm. From the ground erupted thousands of worms, almost enough to cover Johnny’s feet. They began to writhe in time with the music, a terrible clicking sound coming from them like some sort of awful metronome.

Eventually the Devil stopped, took a small bow, and put his fiddle down. The worms stopped moving, but they remained above the soil.

“Well,” Johnny said, “that wasn’t too bad. Better than last time.” He raised his fiddle up. “But I think you forgot that I’m still the best that’s ever been.” Above, the sky thundered.

Rain began to pour, but that didn’t stop him from putting his bow to the strings. His was a much more cheerful tune, the claps of thunder accenting the music. The worms began to burrow back underground, and the corn seemed to spread its leaves wide, exposing the cobs. At the zenith of his song, the sun broke through the clouds, shining bright down on Johnny. He finished his tune, then bowed and looked at the Devil.

The Devil grimaced and dropped the diamond fiddle at Johnny’s feet. “Fine. Take it.”

“I don’t want it. I want you to burn that scroll.” Johnny stared at him, unwavering.

“Fine.” With a snap of his long, pointed fingers, the scroll burned up into a pile of ash. “Keep the fiddle. I don’t think I’ll be playing any time soon.” He vanished in a puff of smoke and sulfur.

Once he was gone, Johnny raced over to his father, who was still on the ground. His breathing was shallow and his eyes were cloudy.

“Johnny?” he asked. “Did you win?”

“I did, Dad, I did.”

“That’s good.” His father shuddered. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply, and then his chest stopped moving.

Johnny sat there for a long time until the sun began to set. At last he stood and headed back to the house, returning with a shovel. He buried the diamond fiddle in that field of corn, and then from there, brought his father back to the house so he could be blessed by Father Lucas.

Some say that Johnny never met the Devil again; some say that he became his personal musician. Nobody knows, because everyone who heard the story first hand is dead.

[accidentalbi]

pinterest quotes that make me feel an indescribable itch in my brain

" Weird hill to die on, but at least you're dead. "

" In a fight, they're lethal. Around each other, they melt. "

" Two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love. "

" Have you ever seen the hell in someone's eyes and loved it anyway? "

" Breathe through the fear and walk through the fire. "

" I sat and sat. Something was wrong inside me. I felt it inside my stomach and I didn't know what to do. So I laid down on the floor. "

" I aim to be lionhearted, but my hands still shake and my voice isn't quite loud enough. "

" Every angel is terrifying. "

" I'm extremely devout, but nobody can figure out what I'm worshipping. "

" Evolution was a mistake. I want fangs. "

" The eighth deadly sin is actually being mean to me, but they keep that one a secret. "

" My house is haunted because I live here. "

" She has angel eyes, the devil's grin, and tattered wings. "

" I don't study, I consult the lore. "

" If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell. "

" Your movements are so cryptic and wraith-like. You've got, like, a precise and deadly energy. You seem unkillable. "

" The horrors may be beyond your comprehension, but I comprehend them perfectly. "

" This man can't be fixed. I can fuck him, though. Maybe that will calm him down. "

" Finally the demon is down and looking peaceful. "

" I'll fuck you eventually, relax. Let me be funny first. "

" I want him broken. I want him resentful and tired. I want him uncontrollable with anger and vengeance. I want him irreversibly unhinged. "

" Oldest daughters are some of the toughest men you'll ever meet. "

" Throw me to the wolves and I'll come back leading the pack. "

" I know she is unhinged, responsible for multiple atrocities, and a danger to herself and others. But have you ever considered that she is tiny, and sad, and I love her? "

" Hold the fuck up. I'm the fuck up. Hold me. "

" I wasn't born to be soft and quiet. I was born to make the world shake at my fingertips. "

" You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. "

" Is this what I get for loving a god? "

" You're a little tragedy, aren't you? "

" You and I both know this ends in blood. "

" They made you into a weapon and told you to find peace. "

" Nobody smart plays fair. "

" Anything you can do, I can do bleeding. "

" You want battle? I'll give you war. "

" I saw magic in his eyes. Dirty, dark, beautiful magic. "

" You're a weapon, and weapons don't weep. "

" I fear no evil. The shadow is mine, and so is the valley. "

" What doesn't kill me better run. "

" I might be a sinner and I might be a saint. "

" Not a god's chosen, but a god's cursed. "

" Sir, that's my emotional support knife collection. "

" What, pray tell, the fuck. "

" We can simultaneously be human and monster. Both of those possibilities are in all of us. "

" Looking half a corpse and half a god. "

" Be the reason why the lights flicker when you enter a room. "

" I don't take orders. I barely take suggestions. "

" The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. "

" I like storms. They let me know that even the sky screams sometimes. "

" Are you praying again? How raw are your knees? How often will you repent? "

" The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upwards to kiss your forehead are soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood. "

" Loyal to few, ruled by none. "

" If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together. "

" Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down. "

" I hate when people ask me what sign I am. Bitch, I'm a sign from god, start running. "

" His grin was always halfway a smile and halfway a threat. "

" The fastest way to a man's heart is by tearing a hole through his ribcage. "

" Crooked grins, sly hands, and one dangerous voice. "

" True evil is, above all things, seductive. "

" Bite the vampire first to establish dominance. "

" My immense self-hatred vs my delusional god complex. "

" I'm not in danger. I'm the danger. "

" Bare those teeth and snarl, baby. "

" This howl… isn't from a dog. "

" You want to play dirty? Fine. Let's play dirty. "

" Your hands are scarred from murder and yet I trust them completely. "

" You got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds. "

" Rome wasn't built in a day. But it burned in one. "

" I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important. "

" How many centuries deep is your wound? "

" Just like the moon, half of my heart will always love the dark. "

" I don't think you're truly mean. You have sad eyes. "

" It is not Hell if you like the way it burns. "

" The sun watches what I do, but the moon knows all my secrets. "

" Yes, it's dangerous. That's why it's fun. "

" Fuck therapy, I'm becoming a knight. "

" Only a monster can deal with another monster. "

" Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. "

" I could set this world on fire and call it rain. "

" I swing both ways. Violently. With a bat. Come get some, motherfuckers. "

" I suck at apologies, so unfuck you… or whatever. "

" Ah, there he is. That motherfucker. "

" I love you is a death sentence in my mouth. "

" It scares me sometimes, the emptiness I see in my eyes. "

" You walk a fine line between beautifully macabre and uncharacteristically psychotic. "

" He smelled of strawberries and depression. "

" Let's cause a little trouble. "

" Keep your head high and your middle finger higher. "

" Get in, loser, we're living past the end of our myth. "

" We sin as devils, we love as angels. "

" Like it's my fault my love language is acts of service and all I know how to do is kill. "

" I have learned that pleasing everyone is impossible, but pissing everyone off is easy and funny as hell. "

" Liking angels in an atheist kinda way. They're just pigeons to me. "

" Why the fuck am I not a slightly ominous forest entity that you only see out of the corner of your eye on a foggy day? "

" Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime. "

" Cute first date ideas -- hand to hand combat. "

" Third base is me telling you about my father. "

" Honey, I… bought us matching swords. "

" Family isn't who you're born with. It's who you die for. "

" RIP to everyone killed by the gods for their hubris, but I'm different. And better. Maybe even better than the gods. "

" I'm not really a househusband or a housewife, I'm more like a house beast. I'm in your walls, causing mysteries and stealing your things. "

[inmarbleimmobility]

1.1.7 "Cravatte"

crawling out of my cave and i've been doing......something! for sure! but it isn't writing these chapters up! so uh. anyway!

this read is the first time i've actually processed the fact that the bishop's decision to chant the Te Deum "with ceremony" is a deliberate ploy to get Cravatte to return the stolen goods - which, as quite a few people have pointed out, means he knows Cravatte is either present at mass or has allies that are! really have no idea how i missed that for so long.

in animal references: Cravatte's gang is called "a pack of wolves", and Myriel immediately turns around and says he's "the shepherd of that very flock"!!

i'm trying so hard to Connect The Dots re: Myriel choosing specifically the Te Deum, but I'm not much of an expert in early 19th century French Catholic practices so I can't seem to do it. it's part of the Litury of the Hours/Divine Offices and gets said during Matins almost every Sunday (except Lent) plus during Easter and Christmas and other solemnities; some sources say it's for times of rejoicing. it can be said at the end of mass, or at a saint's canonization or the procession of their relics, and it's a prayer of praise. part of it gets quoted at every mass ("Holy, holy, holy, holy, Lord God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory" which is interesting! also at the end it there's this call and response bit that goes "Lord, show us your Love and Mercy, for we put our trust in you. In you, Lord, is our hope: and we shall never hope in vain". which is extremely Myriel.

i want to know more about the kid who volunteered to guide the bishop through bandit territory, he sounds badass.

it's important that when questioned whether Cravatte's gift is from God or the devil, Myriel emphatically says "God". even though the gift is from a criminal, it's god's doing that it was returned, god working in Cravatte to get him to do this good deed. (foreshadowing...)

he keeps going on about not fearing robbers or murderers and praying not for ourselves "but that our brother not fall into crime because of us" - more foreshadowing....

"Prejudices are the real robbers; vices the real murders." society creates criminals. he's repeating his point from 1.1.4 about the guilty one being the one who causes the darkness that creates sin. (foreshadowing, and also, The Main Idea again!)

Myriel's willingness to fence his stolen cathedral treasures for the benefit of the poor just goes to show that he thinks a theft that does good isn't a crime or a sin. (foreshadowing.....again! i think i wrote 'FORESHADOWING!' in my margins about 8 times this chapter.)

there are a criminal shortage of robin hood!myriel fics in my life.

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - 1423 AU - Chapter 2

WIP Wed Birthday Edition! It is my Birthday! Happy Birthday 2 Me!

Second part, second chapter, whatever to all the walls of dreaming (they were torn wide open)

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

It was with no little amount of force that Caroline flung the door to the inn chamber closed behind her. The wooden door slammed home into the frame and the latch clicked into place.

“Married?” She hissed at Klaus. “You had to compel the innkeeper into thinking we were married?”

“The one room was all they had, and I was of the opinion you’d make a terrible nun,” Klaus said mildly, setting his saddlebags on the table by the fireplace. It crackled nicely thanks to a pot boy that had dipped in quickly before them with a coal keeper and lit the kindling. 

An indignant noise escaped her. “Excuse you, I’d make an excellent nun. How do you think I made it across the country so quickly?” Her voice was proud as she slung her rucksack over the back of one of two plain wooden chairs tucked under the table.

The blue eyes that had had a tendency to linger on her watchfully these past few days of traveling together flicked up to meet hers in heated curiosity. “Have you a nun’s habit in that pack? Perhaps the proper vestments could be procured for myself, and we might make better time as members of the clergy.” A smile curled his lips, a wicked thing of dimples and sin. “I’m fond of pretend games, what about you, Caroline?”

Mary, mother of God. Caroline didn’t necessarily pray to her aside from keeping up appearances, but it didn’t hurt to be on polite terms with the lady. She doubted playing “Defrock the Priest” in a habit would be a good way of going about that. Aside from the fact that that was totally off limits. Klaus was totally off limits.

And still, despite her growing list of rules, she hadn’t been able to give him one to stop his flirting with her. It was ridiculous, he couldn’t possibly mean any of the things he said. Or at least, he was only saying them because Caroline was there and theoretically available. Surely?

“Klaus,” she said instead, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t go through my bag while I was unconscious and don’t know exactly what’s in it.” The bags of goat's blood had been missing of course when she’d woken up the next morning covered to her chin in hay in a barn with the tang of blood in her mouth, and everything had been put back neatly, but instinct told her he’d gone through everything.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” Klaus equivocated, opening his saddlebags and pulling out an object, “The plethora of items in your bag unfamiliar to me would hardly suggest I know what is in there.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. Jerking on the drawstring on her pack, she reached in, hoping she had something clean that wasn’t that habit. “Just because you don’t know which ones are powdered lapis and which are powdered Devil’s Fingers mushrooms does not negate the fact that you’re nosy. It does mean you should keep your fingers out of my kit though, unless you want to be seeing things for the next few hours.”

“I’m afraid my imagination is already preoccupied.” He tilted his head, peeking at her through golden fringed lashes. “Now about that habit, how familiar are you with ‘Hail Mary’s? I always had an appreciation for the mantra over ‘Our Father’s. Being delivered from evil sounds dull, and I'm rather fond of temptation, myself.” His low voice made her skin prickle and she swallowed.

[dreamsofminnie]

“500 years... And not once did I forget you.”

{Dainsleif x Reader} Part 1

Part 2 <(Link will be open once its posted

Summary-> These centuries, these years apart. Khaenri’ah was cold but your heart felt much colder. The forgivable sin Dainsleif left had left imprinted deeply into your flesh. Then why do you feel this overbearing longing for his pressence once again? Years of therapy, self-reflection, and vividly horrid night terrors; couldn’t stop this ache when you lay eyes upon him once more.

Notes-> This took several months to write and plan </3 Originally for my bestie for her birthday but I thinks it’s too well written to not share. I hope you like this lighthearted, horror+mystery, a lil comfort, then hurt & angst—in that order <3 @wraitingyou

Taglist Open to anyone✨

Tags-> DainsleifxReader, Angst, Slow burn, We die in vain, mystery, genocide, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Reader is from Khaenri’ah, Khaenri’ah lore, reader is from Khaenri’ah, repressed memory, the cataclysm | fall of Khaenri’ah, pre-cataclysm Khaenri’ah, mutual pining, childhood friends, hurt no comfort, pain and suffering, angst and humour, slight gore, horror, body horror, decimation, the abyss, abyss order, reader is not traveler, betrayal, Rhinedottir, mentions of alternate universe, comfort, pining, fluff to angst, implied/referenced character death, genshin plot, Royal guard Dainsleif, reader was a royal guard, nostalgia, suffering, harsh language, heartbreak, no love, delusional dreams real, memory lost, regaining memories

Word Count-> 5.6k

✨

“See you later! Have a safe trip, except for you Wanderer. I hope you trip on your way out and get buried under.” Running farther away from your friend and the pest, you had really prayed for your dear friend’s safety with that gremlin of a puppet.

The inn you all were staying at was starting to get less packed with the huge rainstorm passing. Sumeru surely was a rainforest of region, much more comforting out of all the places you have traveled so far.

Faint drips of rain plopped onto the windows. Soothing yet setting for a melancholy atmosphere. Not that it’s needed, you don’t ever get sappy for anything.

“Therapy session for this month check. Controlled anger issues check. Resistance in making crude jokes.. hnn, check i guess.” I should be good for another few months…”

“I must prepare to leave early tomorrow morning.” Diving into bed is the best parts of the day. No need to waste energy on minuscule thoughts.

Except, innsomnia is a tired person's worst literal nightmare.

“Agh, the kitchen would be closed at this time of the night. Snacks are a nope. Fresh air then, stars are always mesmerizing, maybe they can hypnotize me to sleep.” Irritation laced your words, not thinking much of them.

Curse the devil for allowing innsomnia.

Slipping into a coat you walk out your room and onto the large public balcony.

The inn you were staying at was in the main Sumeru city. Twisted into the tree trunk, the rooms carved into the tree while the balcony stuck out with marble flooring. The usual white spiral ramps gave the inn exits either going up or down.

Though to you, Sumeru is one of the nicest places to enjoy scenery. Aesthetic in all ways. The stars this night didn't fall flat of this statement.

Truly

Something to admire

Or

Something forgotten

Leaning on the balcony railings the gentle breeze took some leaves for flight and your eyes followed suit.

Till they landed on a silhouette standing ten feet away looking in the opposite direction. His back was broad and he stood tall. His hair paled much more in the moonlight and clothes rustled with each growing breeze. The breeze acted like it was setting a mood as it grew a bit harsher.

A twinge in your nerves caused you to walk towards him.

Strange emotion pileing up for this unknown man.

Then it dropped.

You couldn’t believe you thought that was someone who would stir such emotions. Your head thought it was a person your heart has longed for. But a person you have no idea of. Who? Who did you think it was?

Thinking now, the breeze wouldn’t be able to set a mood even if someone were to sober it. Not that there needs to be mood setting.

“Don’t you have a home and a broke man to accommodate to.” Snarky remarks at 4am is exactly what a man needs to hear to crawl back home. Except it doen’t work on pricks.

“And what pleasantries do we have here.” He taunted and turned around his face cold as ever.

“I don’t understand your feeble scholar upgraded language. Shut the fuck up. My insomnia can’t handle pricks.” Alhaitham closed his thick study books and used it to tilt your chin up.

You were standing two steps apart. Well, one step for him since long legs and all.

“Tighnari has smelling herbs for insomnia. Did your puny brain not tell you of that prick either.” You huff and push his book straight back into his chest. “Unlike you. He is much more welcome in my bubble of friendship. Dried up cactuses don’t get a say in my life.”

Alhaitham tucks the book under his arms and turns towards the ramp going down. “Then I guess this dried up cactus will fuck off as you said.” He took five steps before slightly turning back at you.

“Insomnia herb. Get it tommorrow.”

Then he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck. He sounded like he ordered one for me already?! I’ll make sure he didn’t tomorrow morning. Hhuu. That exchange made me exhausted.” With groggy eyes you drag your feet back into the inn.

Upon entering your room once again, you hit the sack faster than you took off your bulky coat.

✨

“AAUUCK!! fak.” You bolted up. These Sumeru bed’s are truly something. Though there were sheets and blankets for comfort, the main part of the bed has grass and leaves atop the wooden base inside. They leave you pretty sore for people who have never slept on a hard surface like these.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“Time to get that medicine i guess. And check out of the Inn.”

“Archons bless you Tighnari. Lifesaverr, your the bestt!!” You placed all the stuff he gave you into your travel bag securely.

“No problem. Those should be able to last you for a month or more. Just as you don’t overdo your state.” He crossed his arms in a knowing stare.

You avoid his eyes, then recalled an annoying swirling voice in your head. “When did you prepare this for me..?”

“I really hope it’s not…-”

“He put in the order.”

“HOW THE FUCK! When did that bastard get the time to message you in that short time I talked to him yesterday night?! What is he watching my every move or something. creepy.”

“Creep sent a messenger bird late at night.” Your bewildered and irritated sigh battled your disgust to fight him right now. So you settled with another direction. Slapping a piece of paper on the floor you scribbled a rushed “thank you” letter.

“Please send this to Alhaitham the creep, as my condolences to his creepy ways.” You mocked his formal speech and handed Tighnari the piece of paper with a drawing.

“What the fuck.” Tighnari stared at the drawing in dumfoundedness and a slight tinge of amusement if this was sent.

“It counts as two things, see? One could represent a middle finger then the other…well, those two spherical structures are the things he doesn't have. He doesn't have those to fight me" (balls to fight me)

“I wish I could see his reaction to this then. I guess I’ll send it to him for you.” You smiled to Tighnari in gratitude. You could always count on your sassy gay friend.

“But anyways, don’t you have to get going, it’s reaching noon soon.” Tighnari looked in the sky and back towards you.

“Ah! Of course of course… Hiking is the most terrible sport…can’t believe people do this for fun.”

Tighnari crosses his arms and moved along with his wight shift, deadpanned. “I do that for a job. Get used to it, hiker.” Pointed his thumb towards the hills.

“Sheesh. Well then I’m heading off. Thank you for the weed, bye bye.”

You could hear a loud bewildered huff merged with a laugh, while you ran off.

✨

By the time you reached the edge of Fontaine the sky grew dark. Good thing Tighnari suggested you take one of his makeshift tents. Inns won't be available on the outskirts of the city so it will take a while to hike further.

Light rain hit the tent in pitter patters. Soothing.

You take the paper package of the medicinal herbs out. “Ah. How did he tell me to make this again? Where’s the ball.” Rummaging through your bag you took out an incense ball. A similar one to what Tighnari has but yours was darker in tone and in dull blue and black.

You hung the ball from a short wire off the ground. Opened the top and sprinkled in half a handful of the herb. It closed shut and you shook it around a few times. A bit of water from your bottle was tossed in this concoction. The incense ball’s scent soon filled the tent.

“So fast and effective..” A yawn already erupted from your mouth.

Droplets of rain. Therapeutic.

✨

The tent folded back and incense packed you headed off once again.

To the heart of Fontaine.

You really were getting tired of inns. The amount of money you have was starting to lack. You pondered if you should just take some simple requests from small villages along the way. You gain money, and they gain help.

You nodded to yourself and paraded to nearby villages.

You followed a pathway toward the houses keeping your eyes aware of anyone that seemed in need of help.

A man standing a few feet away seemed distressed while he paced back and forth anxiously.

Your curiosity peeked as you came closer. “Hello sir. Are you okay? You seemed terribly stressed” You heard that Fontaine was a place of formalities so speaking the part was no problem.

The man hurriedly looked up expectantly. “Are you perhaps a mercenary?! You’ve got to help! Oh, it’s a hell of a mess!! He’s-he might die. Surely will pass away! Theft, murder, moronic fool!!”

You lower his arms from flailing around in erratic movements in his panicked stupor. “Uh. I’m not quite catching up sir..” You would have thought it would take much more just to get a request.

The middle-aged man gulped in large breaths to smooth his emotional turmoil.

“My cousin, Guillaume, has been recently been in debt as a treasure horder. He is quite skilled but truly reckless. He fought a bunch of Abyss mages that seemed to be in a middle of a ritual... Treasure of course was engraved in his skull. So when he picked up a heavy object from the scene, it made him crazed. He became hostile to every person who comes near him. Injured many. Not only that, but the occurrence enraged the abyss and he is getting hunted by the Fontaine police as well as the Abyss. From that, he started kidnapping people into his hideout and they too become crazed… I know I should trust the officials but.. their pride is too high to even adknowledge my input.”

He wasn't fidgety anymore and remained calm. This series of events seemed bothersome to you now. Too much work for you who just wanted some quick task. Intriguing of course, but eh.

“As well as the fact that the Fontaine officials were here moments ago and left as quickly. I was merely aggravated when a gentleman came by to ask questions about this incident. He hurried when I gave all my information on the location. I worry for the gentleman. I can’t help to stress. As well as…I know that Guillaume is deeply in dispair. He has this small window where he is sane and…He sent me a few letters..”

You took some time to ponder all the information. The abyss is after the man who stole something, the thing has changed him and everyone around it. They seem like they became, monstrous—ugh!

Your hand was deeply clenched at your scalp head throbbing so loudly and throat dry.

“Dear me! Are you alright!! Apologizes to the hefty load!” He hurriedly sat you down on a short stone fence and fetched water from the well a few feet away.

The sounds of splashing water seemed much more distant than 5 feet away.

‘It's so dizzy..’

Red fizzled and flashed in your head. Red flags that encouraged you forward. A terrible way to go but who knows. Maybe, just maybe, solving this can make those nightmares that lead to your insomnia go away. Bloodshed. The cause of why you see bloodshed in these nightmares has always bothered you so bad.

“…iel, Iel! Hello?! Are you well?! Drink drink, water” You release your tight hold on your head to take the large cup. The water was cool and slide down as a semblance of relief. The reflection mirrored your pained expression, your frowned. It was not a good look for you. But cracking jokes at this time, wasen’t wise.

“..thank you for the water. I don’t know what happened just now. But. I will help with this, for the gentleman and for your cousin. If he still can be helped…” The man relaxed at your conscious state and nodded.

“I will provide you more details.”

✨

Rest was not an option in this tight knit issue. Anything could formulate in the span of a whole minute. And your dread never faded the whole time you thought about this.

Let’s see, the man said Guillaume would take the villagers at midnight when the stars are high up. In the daytime, he isn’t crazed and sits in solitude in despair. He is responsible for dozens of people he has dragged.

You feel sickened. The letters you got to read by Guillaume were heart-wrenching and explicit. However, it could only be judged on the rule of the scene.

Some crucial details in the letters were his descriptions.

“The crystal shines so luminescently venomous.

It burns as well as attracts……

I can’t take it.

Please please. Hel 𝓹

Your leetrs that say you will save me from this hell is false!

The feel of gasoline ignites my fingers to my core.

Though I feel it welcome me……

The ghastly scars leave residue atop my skin. Horrific.

Black.

All ash

My vision has been narrowly obscured.

How I am able to pick up a pen is beyond my imagination.

Is my brain really intact?

Hah.

I think someone is comi. g into the room. Annoyance……

I think— I shut up their cries……

Do I-know them?

Haha…she is trying to plead with me……

She remi nd.s me of m. y wife..

FUCK. WHA T HAVE I DO Ne. SHE- *incomprehensible scribbles and a slight dried dampness*

The human has given in to the crystal how astounding……

Haha. Her screams have filled the room……

The stars are approaching. It will be time again…….

How thrilling……

A feast is due……

Ps. [___] power lets us fly too. Did you really think I used a carrier pigeon…….

Stars stay alight in farewell…….delight……”

The letter gave you the shivers. This was the third one that was sent. And out of all the three letters, this contained the most insanity inducing mentality. You highly doubt Guillaume will live a normal life after this concludes. Poor guy. Debt changes a person.

On the contrary, this bloodbath piques my interest. It’s not every day you get to investigate manslaughter. You feel like detective Heizou. No wonder he likes to run off towards danger.

Information about the gentleman assisting was only brief since I was to hurry to the site before the next day. “He was tall and built more alike a soldier. He also wore blue and black clothing. He never gave me his name…” Your thoughts had fiddled when he had told you, but a numbing pain seized your brain functions into hyper-focus.

You rub your temples, eyes focused on the route he marked on your map. Leg day has really been your everyday. Super exhausting.

Blood and skin drew ice as your breath hitched. Strangled cry, sharp inhale of breath, hands clawing at your neck and chin. Despair induced your vein. The scream intensified something inside you. Airways in the throat barely letting a breath passby. Water pools your eyes in distraught and pain. Glued to your spot, the ominous descending cave gurgled back shouts and thumps. Muttered curses escape as you try and hold your ground. Saliva formed in the clogged airways and raining down by your feet. This all felt like you were strangled, punched, and overall scoured all over, in charcoal.

If you had regretted anything in your sad life, it was this. Taking this commission. Talking to the distressed man. Stranger danger real. Regret for ever stopping by that village…and the regrets have only started.

The next thing you saw was pitch black.

************************

The weather these past few days has been horrid. Snow storm after the other piled the streets with 1 foot of snow. The roads and streets are accessible to your relief. How else would you be able to see your sweet boyfriend.

The chime of a café door rang as you entered hurriedly from the biting winds outdoors. You cupped your hands together and attempted to heat them up with your breath. The shop was quiet besides the old love songs and occasional emo rock songs playing from the speakers. Owl city was one of his most liked songs.

You perched on the counter ringing the small bell near the card scanner.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding—

“Okay. Okay, I hear every one of your calls Y/n.” He came out from the break room and leaned in from across the counter where you sat.

You smiled at Dainsleif. “How are you Dain! Was shoveling the snow all by your lonesome hard this morning?~”

He huffed. “It was fine. But next time you're accompanying me.” He grabbed your waist and dragged you over to the worker's side of the counter, swinging your legs around as well so you're still sitting.

“It’s still midday so let me make you a cup of something warm.”

You watch him, your elbow on your knee and chin in your palm. Dainsleif manages this café and is the best drink maker there is. He unintentionally shows off some skills when making them, that’s why many girls come here for the show. Not that he pays attention to.

“Kaeya has told me to indulge you in more romantic lines. Would you like to be humored?” Dainsleif brought the mixing bottle up to the side of his head and shook it thoroughly as a bartender would, while glancing up at you.

When he does that every time it makes you swoon on the inside just a little.

“Kaeya is a terrible influence. Which makes life more bearable.” You shoot Dain a small finger heart in which he stops for a while in confusion but recovers a few seconds after.

“What does it feel like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?” Dainsleif plops toppings into the drink, adding more of your favorite ones.

“Bleh, I’m the ONLY person in this whole building, try again.” You kick your legs a bit, secretly enjoying these terribly cheesy pickup lines he always stores for you.

“Hm. If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He achieved a faint breathy laugh from you, you argued that it was just because it was so so old and overused.

He snapped the lid onto the steaming cup and walked back to you handing it over.

He hesitated on his next line as you blew on the liquid through the hole and took a nice warm sip. It melted your insides in warmth.

So did the pickup line.

“Just wondering if your lips taste as good as they look.” Dainsleif’s eyes were awkwardly averted, wondering how you would react.

But you sat there, mouth agape, ears flushed from the pickup line. “Didn’t expect that one.” You mumbled into the cup, eyes unfocused staring at your favorite toppings floating to the top.

Dain carefully placed both hands on either side of your thighs. “...it wasn’t answered.”

Your eyes tilt up from the drink sitting on your lips. “It wasn’t a question.”

Your rebuttal made Dain purse his lip, which you intensely stared at. “Then….may I kiss you?”

Your inner thoughts were racing, the reflex of wanting to push him away was itching, but the thought of a kiss sent you into a spiral. It’s not like you haven't kissed before, you have…a rare few times.

“Aha ha, ah uhm. Get out of that ugly sweater first then we’ll talk.” You jab one finger into his chest only pushing him away by a few inches.

Both of you are terrible at this romance thing that's why it's so awkward to initiate. You back out of close contact, and only stick to flirting, and he spews pickup lines he learns from Kaeya because he’s confused about love but also respects your boundaries. All your friends suffer seeing this awkward couple at group gatherings.

“What’s wrong with my sweater?” He pulls the sweater and looks down. He wore a black shirt and over that was a black-green-brown button-up sweater, adorned with pictures of owls, bears, acorns, trees, and bushes. Very nature-y for your star-loving boyfriend. But honestly, it looked like it was made for a grandpa on a chilly evening stroll.

“The nature documentary show would like its background back.” You wheeze at Dain’s blank-faced reaction, so done with you, but he’s never over you.

Dain gently sneaked a kiss on your cheek to satisfy himself with your stunned silence cutting off any jokes lining up your defense.

He backed away from the counter and took his jacket off a hook ready to depart with you. “Our friends are waiting. Let’s head out now, I bet they are frozen solid outside since I was supposed to supply the hot drinks.”

That caused you to snap back as you cackled at Hutao, Yelan, Heizou, Tighnari, and the rest, chilled to the bone buried in the deep snow. You latch onto Dainsleif’s sleeve slipping your hand into his warm pocket and holding his curled-up thumb and pointer finger. “Let’s go wifey! Onwards to the ice sculptures!!”

*********************

The darkness had enraptured you at every turn, you didn’t know if you were sitting down, laying down or even face down digging into the dark ground. Your senses were so hazed and really failed you more than normal today.

“I always knew this is what hell was like. Dark cold and numbing on my ass.” Your voice was meek and raspy but they held the same sharp tongue you brought.

A breath hitched when you spoke. So you weren’t alone, in relief your body sunk from its tension. “This place would most likely be a hell. But it's all been cleaned up now..” The voice gave you a tingling feel, almost familiar if not for your impaired and dazed hearing.

“Whoes,” Your words have slurred with the throbbing of your head, a light pressure stroking it, not sure if it was your hand or the other persons. “I didn’t want you to see this mess. Also because that thing on your head is a protection of sorts.” Your mind was too out of it to immediately process his information.

“Was I drugged and potato sacked. I still can’t feel my ass.” The voice had an airy chuckle which echoed through the space. It must be a cave, orrr the internal abyss of the hell he called.

“Well that’s because you fell on a large sharp rock when I first saw you near the cave entrance.” Ah. made sense. “Once your senses are back and you start wiggling around, will I free you.” That made you suspect you were tied down somewhere. You just hoped it was spacious and clean enough so you could indeed roll around.

A sound of shuffled occured after a while and the footsteps faded, assuming that the person beside you had left the area. Once he came back it would be war against his, oddly pretty voiced most likely pretty man. How dare he potato sack you.

Fingers twitching to life, you didn’t know how many hours were spent on body recovery. The crackles of your bones that were stiff the entire night bounced off the walls. You could now feel that your body was in fact laying down, fabric carpeting you.

Footfalls came steadily back in your direction. “I knew you’d come back to me mysterious man” The tugging of the fabric around your head lead to pangs of sense recovery. You hear much more sensitively after being blocked for so long. The fabric finally coming around to uncover your eyes. Vision still impaired as the lights and darkness desperately tried to balance out. The haze in your eyes remains an issue even when the smell of the fabric was soothing.

A blur of a hand reached out to you, which you took graciously, limp as they were. You were hauled up to him as he held you close to steady your shaky body. “Get used to walking. Then we will scour the rest of the cave.” his voice sent a chill covering your spine, it was very nice.

Head limp on his chest you could see his black and blue fitted outfit. Even knowing you were short, his shoulder was still higher than your whole height. Plus the glimpse of a sword by their belt drew you to a hazy conclusion. He was the gentleman you were looking for.

However, a sense of dread and conflicting longing rang off in your ears from never ever wanting to look up into his face. So you did just that.

Your head stayed pressed against his chest as you figured out how to move the limbs helplessly called legs. Every time your legs wobbled too much, he would grab onto your waist to steady you. And every time you clutch onto his shirt too tightly in nerves rattling, he would pat your shoulder and let you put your feet on his so he could walk for you. Hours have passed and you got the hang of your body, with a little shake you managed to walk from one wall to the other.

“Pardon me for asking but, why am I so disabled like this in the first place?” Your voice was quiet but steady, unlike the time you talked when just waking up to potential hell.

“And in all fairness, you could’ve left me to disintegrate and die. Would’ve been better. Instead of nursing me.” You forcefully mumbled that out in a murmur. And you ready didn’t have to look up at the man’s face to feel the intensity of a sharp glare for a reason unknown.

Pacing in large circles and looking down to watch your feet, the man stood at the doorway. “It was close the time to midnight. The smell radiating off the cave entrance bewitched you and destroyed you. It closed off your nerves. I had prepared something beforehand to help elevate this phenomenon, which was the fabric I wrapped around you, acting as a cocoon. I then brought you inside, took care of the dangers lurking, and...secured the premise.” He failed to mask his hesitation on hidden information, due to what he knows about this situation than you do. You slowly nodded as you stare at his shoes, intimidatingly facing you.

“This cave is enormously large. Would you like to venture through the tunnels. If your legs are up for it. I won’t leave your side, case you fall and never get back up.” His words couldn’t help but put a sting in your heart while chasing it faster. And you who inadvertently let his attempted joke pass your head.

You nodded again which you could only do with a swift tilt up to not disclose your obvious hiding.

The gentleman luckily leads you, tailing behind clutching a corner of his cloak. It gave you more leverage to see more since he covered his own face from you since he’s tall.

As you both moved around the dirt-painted halls, the tunneling seemed handmade instead of natural. Claw marks etched into the surfaces, the ones on the wall grow even deeper and bigger the more your trembling legs take you down the hall. Some openings that led to other rooms littered the narrow tunnels, they were all empty and vacant. The only signs of life once in the rooms were the many elemental traces and or scratches from either weapons or nails. A dark murkiness painted the walls and floor—not wanting to ever know what it really is—but the stench that followed was hazy and metallic. The winding tunnels seemed endless. No wonder people came to be insane down here.

As your thoughts subsided, so did the unending tunnel.

A much broader room greeted you ahead. It must have been Guillaume’s place of residence. Half the room was bookshelves, scrawled-up papers, and scrunched-up scrolls, a large desk faced the other side, ink spilled from the table to the opposing wall. The vacant space looked more than inhabited, save for the etchings on every inch of the wall, ceiling, and floor surfaces. Many drew blanks, symbols, and incomprehensible languages. Stars were the most repeated shape. You didn’t know when you had let go of the man’s cloak, since you were too drawn to the walls of Guillaume’s self-asylum.

Your digits brushed some of the symbols, they curved neatly and were well-written. And familiar. One symbol you could read was—Cataclysm.

The jolt of electricity from touching those words provoked you to snap your neck to…

The man who stood in the same spot you left him before you let go. Him who watched you mindlessly draw your finger against the carved wall trying to work your brain. Him who—walking through the hallway—peered behind when you weren’t noticing, gauging your reactions. Him who, had to do a double take when he first saw you on the outskirts of the cave.

Dainsleif who,

missed you dearly.

Who always speculated if you were alive or not.

. . .

Traveling to Fontaine was genuinely; the WORST choice you could have ever done.

“Fuck.”

.

.

.

You really didn’t want to do this ontop of every other terrible occurrence this night. Your brain couldn't, hence the deep crease in your brow following your pained expression too well. All your senses weakened from your mentally solely. You knew him. You recognize him. You liked him.

.

But you hate him.

Many years of your continuous mental and physical health checkups, insomnia plaguing your attempted sleep, unresolved hatred. All to shield yourself against this man. To conceal the centuries with him.

Now all in vain. Crumbling beneath your feet at this very dreaded moment. The way your vision blurs, the shakiness in your foothold, your clammy hands, throat strained, all in response to a simple unimaginable presence.

The one presence your heart missed dearly. Your legs told you to run. To a remote place. But he blocked that path. As he did before, once again stuck in this in-between.

One step. Another.

A predicament you had placed yourself in. The wall that soothed your back has never felt as cold as it did now. How you would rather it envelop you into those eerie symbols. Engraving you to the mystery of the universe.

He was one step away now. Galaxy eyes bore into your evading ones. “Y/n…”

You refused his beckoning. But that wouldn’t make him leave. It wouldn’t get him to disappear from your existence. It only hurts more now that you know he is alive and healthy.

“umh. If we’re done here, then I have things to do somewhere else.” You burned your eyes anywhere else but near him. He couldn’t escape the slight view you had of him at the corners of your sight. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out to you, to find that once solace you gave him.

“Avoiding me won’t get you anywhere. I thought you weren’t one for not returning favors. I saved your life. Don’t you owe me something?” You scoff. It repulsed you on how observant he is of you.

“I had a dream with you in it. It was in a different world where we were… Happy together. I wish I was in that world currently instead of this shit.” The words you spewed were venomous, if not for the slightly fond tone you laced in. Dainsleif’s face contorted, he was now glad you refused his eye contact, for his eyes downturned in remorse.

Remorse; that's all he ever felt towards you for many centuries when you were apart. And the times when remorse wasn't present, he was deeply coated in affection for you. Those, however, were in the early childhood days. Too far gone in the past.

“I’m sorry I can’t live up to those expectations.”

“But now you have to repay me. …And forgive me.” His firm but gentle hold on your chin forced eye contact. His blue eyes shone with the diamond in them; just like how your eyes sparked with that diamond. His words however gave you the will to slap his hand away.

“You think apologies will reconnect us? After all those fucking centuries? Those actions were effectuated by you!! You festered this effect upon me! How could I ever, ever!! forgive your inapt causes?! You’re VILE!” You ended up hitting his chest and shoving him away which sent him 6 feet apart. He took every physical contact from you, the sting was apparent and long-lasting.

Your unquenched fury bubbled to the brim. And you now approached the silent man. Your hand was now tight against his collar, the obvious trembling of his dismantled your voice in cracks. “What was the reason?! You should’ve kept me in that sword. After you fucking decimated everyone with me. Why the fuck would I ever want to live after all that. Everything and everybody was a mess. You the most.” The intensity of your diamond-shaped eyes never faltered.

You stepped back as the grip on his collar loosened. “Khaenri’ah’s downfall… Couldn’t even be saved by any form of guard..” Your mumble cast your gaze away from his unnerving eyes.

Silence blanketed the room, no thoughts were presented or conjured. You both just allowed the atmosphere to sink in, head empty beside the presence that would have normally set your heart racing. Not this time; nor ever.

“It’s past midnight right? I’ll take a nearby room to rest in.” You didn’t require his answer, so you left just as quickly. Leaving behind the downcasted remorse filled Dainsleif stiff in his spot where you left him.

*********************

Author notes-> Reshare’s and likes appreciated <3 I hope it was heart wrenching—so i can collect tears to my jar >:D