#without having to damn my soul to the nine hells!

[bravest-notts]

we're now maybe two or three sessions from fighting an ancient white dragon who's also wielding a powerful fire orb on top of his usual abilities. as The Cleric™ i am feeling a growing sense of anticipation and nervousness, like preparing to sit for an exam held at gunpoint

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

With little else to do during the busy festive period, you made your way to Howlie’s Gym, the place you made a home away from home and where you know your best friend made your haven safe. 

What you did not expect to find, however, was him in the office with the brightest smile on his face — as though you hung the moon that shone down over the two of you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❥ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ❥ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ❥ Fluff, pining (so much of it), slight angst (self doubt) ჻჻჻ TROPES: Best friends to lovers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❥ Do you see that trope? 👀 ❥ A very special thank you to my discord server and the poll I made for helping me decide on the new additions to this AU. 🥰

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ❥ Someone To You by BANNER

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ❥ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine — Masterlist ❥ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Flurries of snow danced in your vision as they fell to the pavement ahead of where you were walking, your gym bag over your shoulder and a warm, winter coat bundled around your torso to protect you from the cold. 

The headphones tucked over your ears doubled as muffs to keep the chill away, as well as playing tunes to block out the sounds of the world as you made your way to Howlie’s Gym, your home away from home.

It was close to Christmas — only a couple more days left before the big day would arrive, whether you liked it or not. 

The holidays, while festive and sweet, tended to be on the lonelier side of the spectrum. There was no one for you to spend the day with; not the way you so badly yearned for — of which felt unobtainable. As far away as the stars twinkling in the sky above you, winking and dancing with the snow that fell. 

Thoughts swirled and sent a pang of pain through your heart the closer you came to the lit-up gym.

You longed for the one man you had grown close with, the trainer that had dedicated all of his spare time to your regimes, and the very same one that seemed to care beyond all others about your wellbeing. 

Over the short time you had gotten to know Bucky, you had grown inexplicably close with the brunette. It was overwhelming to reminisce on what he said during one of the last sessions — the words echoed in your mind when the front door of the gym came into view: “You are one hell of a woman, and I’ll be damned if I see you putting yourself down anymore.”

Never before had someone been so deeply invested in you, and you could only hope that it meant something; perhaps a Christmas miracle was around the corner. 

The song changed just as you reached the doors, and you pushed them open with a flourish as you danced on the spot. Not a single soul was in sight and that itself was such a rare occurrence, you couldn’t help but grin happily — a peaceful workout without any gym rats or try-hards ruining your vibe and concentration. 

You hummed, singing along to the song as the lyrics picked up tempo. “I wanna be somebody to someone, someone to you–”

“Bubba?”

“Ah!” A muffled squeak caught in your throat, and you whirled around, looking for the source of the voice that had been so close, and who you could have sworn was Bucky himself. “Oh– Oh, hi,” you said as you found the culprit.

Bucky smiled broadly from the office doorway. “Hey, you,” he said softly. “What’re you doing here–? It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

The gym bag over your shoulder rustled as you shook it. “Well, I don’t have anything else to do, I guess.”

“So you decided to come and keep me company, huh?” he teased, walking towards you. The grey, long-sleeve compression shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide his physique, and his loose hair fell down to his shoulders. Even the navy sweats he wore hugged his body, his thighs impressively stretching the fabric well beyond what was reasonable. 

It was either that, or he purposefully decided to wear smaller sized clothes, you reasoned — not that you were complaining, not in the slightest. 

“Doll?”

You startled and blinked. “What? Oh! Uh–” Smooth going, you inwardly chastised yourself. 

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “You dork—c’mon, I can help you set up.”

“Right,” you said, nodding once. “Thanks.”

The two of you made your way over to the first piece of equipment in your regime, and Bucky kindly set it up for you, his tongue between his teeth as he put the correct weights on the bar. 

“So what are you doing all on your own?” you asked, placing your bag down on a weight bench. Bucky glanced at you, then concentrated back on the equipment. “I mean—like, I thought Howlie’s was closed so close to the holidays, I had to search and make sure you guys were actually open.”

“Like you,” he grunted as he lifted the last weight, and the muscles of his forearms tensed while he manipulated it into place. “I also don’t have anythin’ else to do, so I figured, why not?” He shrugged and stepped back from the equipment, a small smile on his lips. “Can’t hurt to catch up on paperwork or get a head start on the shit for next year.”

“Fair, fair,” you replied. A flood of courage began to flow, and you squared your shoulders — intent on at least trying. “I, uh– Do you want to, um–”

“Do I wanna ‘hang’ with you?” Bucky offered; a brow raised inquisitively. A cheeky smirk pulled the corner of his lips up. “Is that what you’re askin’?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, and you scratched the back of your neck. It suddenly seemed foolish to have spoken up, and the courage soured to shame faster than the blink of an eye. “I mean, you don’t have to– You know what, never mind, I know you have more important–” 

“Shut up, Bubba,” Bucky laughed, and you gaped at him, which made him laugh harder. “You’re fuckin’ adorable—‘course I’ll hang with my girl. Just let me finish what I was doing and I’m all yours.”

He walked off, a pep in his step, and you were left there floundering and completely dumbfounded by his choice of words. 

“My girl,” he said — surely you imagined that? “I’m all yours,” he promised — you had to be dreaming.

Before you could shake yourself from your reverie, Bucky was already walking back towards you, and he tilted his head; eyes filled with sudden concern. “Doll? You alright–? What’s wrong? You seem out of it tonight.”

“N–Nothing,” you rushed. “I just–” You could not help the falter in your voice when Bucky stepped closer, his face suddenly so damned close to yours. 

“Talk to me, Bubba—you’re worrying me, if I’m bein’ honest. What’s up?”

His concern warmed your heart, but you couldn’t help but feel the urge to tilt your head and meet his lips in a kiss. 

You pushed that urge down as far as you could, determined to ignore it and force the heat crawling up your neck to stop, too. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise, Buck—I swear. It’s just Christmas… it’s a strange time of year for me, I’m– Well, I’m alone.”

A slight frown pulled the corner of his lips down, and you found you couldn’t stand it. 

“I–”

“No, no, I understand,” Bucky said softly. “Me too.”

“Really?” you blurted before you could stop yourself. “I mean, you?”

“Yes, me.” There was a slight tremor to his voice. “Well, I have my boys—and girl, but–” At your widened eyes, he quickly amended with, “My dogs, I mean. I have a couple of dogs, who are currently lazing around back home.”

“Oh! Oh my– Can I see a photo?” you rushed, giddy with excitement. “I love dogs!”

Bucky grinned and pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen alight with a photo of three dogs, side by side. They were huge, but all smiles for the camera — you suspected there were treats offered for that kind of brightness in their faces. 

You could immediately tell that one was a Golden Retriever, the creamy coat a dead giveaway, and the largest of the three was a black and white Great Dane. The third dog, however, you couldn’t place, but they were just as cute with a reddish-brown coat of short fur.

“They’re so fluffing adorable, Buck,” you gushed. 

He put his phone back into his pocket, mumbling, “Thanks—they’re great running buddies, when they want to fuckin’ behave, that is.”

Somehow, the mention of Bucky’s companions back home soothed the nerves in you, and the two of you comfortably started your sets, content to complete a few reps in silence — bar your grunts and groans of effort, while Bucky was as silent as a mouse. Damn him, you thought. 

After several reps, you grunted loudly and placed the weights back on the bar, panting for air. “How the fuck do you stay so quiet?” you demanded of Bucky, staring at him while he sat up on the bench. 

There was an arrogant, charming smile on his lips. “Practice, doll. You’ll get there.”

Silence followed his proclamation, and you slumped back against the equipment. 

The endorphins from the workout coursed through you, and that same sense of courage surged like a fire, burning through your reservations and inhibitions faster than a match to gunpowder — too many pirate movies, you thought privately. 

“Bucky,” you said tentatively, and you licked your lips, tasting the sweat from your workout. “I want to ask you something…”

“Oh?” He shuffled up the bench to sit closer to you. His elbows rested on his knees, and his arms hung between his thighs; you couldn’t help but greedily drink in the sight of the stray strands of hair plastered to his forehead from his own workout. “Lemme guess, does it have something to do with Christmas?”

“Not exactly.”

“Okay,” he said, and he looked at you expectantly. The tip of his tongue ran over his lips. “What is it?”

The words lodged in your throat, and your mouth worked uselessly to free them, but it didn’t work. You let out a groan of frustration. “I– God, why is this so hard?”

Something flashed in Bucky’s bright eyes, the blue of them deepening to an ocean hue. “I happen to be very good at reading people, sweetheart,” he said, and you froze — a deer in headlights as you stared at him. “And if I’m wrong, feel free to put an end to whatever we have, but–” He cleared his throat and fidgeted a little. 

A beat of silence passed where you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 

“But I can’t help but feel something, between us, I mean. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“How the fuck did you know?” you whispered, awestruck. 

Bucky’s shoulders slumped in apparent relief. “Your heart eyes aren’t exactly subtle, doll.”

Shit, you silently cursed.

“Now that I know what you wanna ask me, I think I might help you out,” he offered gently, “what d’you say?”

Unable to find the words while Christmas carols played over the speakers that lined the ceiling — the volume so quiet you almost had to strain to pick it up over the thumping beat of your heart in your ears — you nodded. 

“Alright then,” Bucky said, and he stood up to walk over to you. He reached for your hands, and you offered them — the warmth of his hands shocked you, but not as badly as when he kissed the back of your left hand, then the right. “Bubba, my girl, and my best friend…” His lips pulled up into a smile, the brightest you’d ever seen. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Before you could even consider his words, your mouth moved faster than your mind and you blurted, “As long as you bring your dogs.”

A bark of laughter split the tension, and you hugged Bucky tight, not caring about standing in the middle of his gym, shaking like a leaf from the giddy happiness and surprise. 

Christmas miracles were, in fact, real, you decided.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[honey-beann]

Beautiful Ruiner, Damn My Ashes (18+)

RK900 x Reader (NSFW)

Note: So like I mentioned prior to posting this, this same fic with a few edits made to it and a few things removed was posted to one of my other blogs early last month. It was originally written as a Nines x Reader that I edited to make that post, so this is the unedited original. I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis:

Pure smut, lustful, carnal, sinful smut lol

I left a little easter egg that allows this to be read a spinoff part of the Ruiner Ruination series, but this isn't necessarily cannon at all (although it eventually may be, I haven't fully decided yet if I'm being honest).

Chapter Content Warnings:

NSFW

Pure filth

Angst

Word Count: 1,757

He panted heavily, his chest heaving as he groaned out in both anguish and pleasure, the feeling of your nails raking down his back somehow splintering him and bringing him to life all at once.

God, you were ruinous.

The way you looked up at him when he touched you like this, filled you like this, was addictive, life altering, something he could not live with nor without.

You would be the end of him,

And oh what a cruel and beautiful fate that would be.

The crescents of your nails stamped permanently into his synthetic skin, your voice the last thing to play before his ears, and your body beneath his the final thing his eyes would ever see,

How could he dare to argue with such a lecherous demise? Such a fruitful lust, as long as it culminated in him seeing the stars that played behind your eyelids when you finally came undone for him.

So beautiful,

So heartbreaking,

So necessary,

So incredibly ruinous in Every. Single. Way.

The end of all ends,

The beginning of all beginnings,

Your body, your pleasure, you.

He felt guilt begin to build in his chest as he watched you, brushed the hair out of your face and behind your ear as you whimpered pitifully beneath his body, helpless to his never ending barrage of fulfilling thrusts as he penetrated you to the hilt

over and

over

and

over

again.

He growled harshly at his own uncontrollable thoughts,

His own uncontrollable needs,

And quickly took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, watching as you opened your eyes to meet his familiar, cold gaze.

But he was so struck at what he saw within those eyes that his hip-bruising voracity waned, and his own orbs widened in surprise,

There was hope there, pride, joy, and something else he could not put his finger on,

Or rather, something that he did not want to put his finger on.

But, no matter,

They were rather occupied at the moment anyhow.

Busying themselves with your neck, your hair, and with the act of pushing your fragile, fidgety hips against the mattress in order to render your struggles futile.

But those eyes of yours,

So beautiful,

So shiny even in the dimmed light of his bedroom, where only the dying white bulb of his bedside lamp and the moon could light his path to salvation,

(to you).

He was awestruck as he gazed into them.

There was silence in his mind for a few moments, as he stared down at your body, at the place where the two of you were connected as one, despite everything he had done, and everything that he had not.

But then, noting his slowed thrusts and sudden lack of urgency, you mewled for him in a way that made his mind race, those claws of yours moving from his back to his hips to pull and scratch at them, causing them to stutter before speeding up once more.

Surely you would kill him like this, oh beautiful ruiner, damn far more than his soul, but even his ashes to Hell for the thoughts you caused him to have,

Of your body all but crushed beneath his own as he pushed himself inside of you, body shuddering as he squeezed his gray eyes shut and prayed for release from the torment and torture that needing you like this caused him.

Of the way that your face looked as he did so, mouth slightly ajar in that way that always had him stuffing three fingers down your throat just so he could feel you moan and cry out around them.

Of your hands as they grasped at him as if he were the only thing on earth, the only one you craved, and oh if only he could bring himself to believe you could ever need him in the way he did you, then maybe, just maybe, this beautiful and carnal suffering could come to an end...

But he was far from a fool, and more than anything else he had ever faced, you had completely and utterly destroyed him.

He was ruined for anyone save for the woman who was laid out beneath him, that was for certain.

And all of his feelings for you, the hatred, the annoyance, the fondness, the admiration, and that one other thing he had seen in your eyes...

They made it so hard to focus, so hard to forget, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else he was doing this for if not that.

Why was he buried within you, gasping for air, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own and almost smiling, if not to forget?

Did he not do this to distract himself from his growing fear and uncertainty? And if he did then why was it not working? Why did you have him considering all of these things that caused him such turmoil while he was buried so deep inside of you that he could hardly recall his own name,

(The name that you had given him, so perfect on your lips...),

And how was it that he was still so close despite that? Your tightness damn near driving him to madness even as he was all but brought to tears by his own inner musings.

He could not force himself to answer those questions, but he could bring himself to push them all away, and drown himself in you,

And so he did.

Nines began to thrust his hips into yours even harder, his finger tips digging into your ass and thighs with bruising force as he lifted you towards him for better access, desperate to be connected, and desperate to be whole in a way he had never truly understood.

You gave him all that he could ask for and more, and he hissed when he felt you press closer, your ankles locking around his hips as you squeezed your thighs tighter to his body, your head falling back in what he knew

(prayed)

was bliss.

You always looked so heavenly when you came undone for him, tightening and quivering around his length helplessly.

Such a perfect sight to behold, such beautiful damnation, as if you were made solely for his eyes to see,

Or maybe as if he were made solely to see you.

Oh how he wished he could be something more than what he had been predestined for,

How he longed to be yo-

He could not allow himself to finish that thought.

And he did not have to.

Cursing, gasping, growling, Nines came deep inside of you, his hands shaky as he lowered you to the bed completely a few seconds afterward, slowly severing the connection between your bodies.

It was cold all alone, so cold when he couldn’t feel you, that he had half a mind to bury himself inside your heat once more, and just forget about the outside world.

But before he could, you spoke, confusion in your voice as you raised your hand to his face to brush some of his perfect hair away from his eyes.

“Nines?”

You asked softly, and your voice made him shiver far more than the coldness of this lonely world outside of you ever could.

“Yes?”

He replied lowly, as if afraid he would frighten you away if he spoke too loud.

“Why wont you kiss me again?”

Nines inhaled sharply as if struck by your words, and he allowed his gaze to sweep over your form slowly as his mouth began to form a response,

“I can’t, it wasn’t fair when I did before. It wasn’t real, it was just hungry, and cruel, and I won’t do that to you again. I am a lot of things, Little Mouse, but I am not a monster."

His words were spoken more to reassure himself than you, and he knew that, but even so he looked towards you to find your reaction, and the sorrow and everything else, unchanged from before, that could be found within your eyes was very nearly too much for him to bear.

Especially that unnamed emotion, the one that made his stomach clench with dread.

You raised your fingers, adept and nimble, familiar and haunting, to his face once more, this time framing his cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb as you spoke, sympathy so evident within your tone that it should’ve made Nines angry,

But this time it only hurt.

“Oh but Nines,”

You murmured, and he panicked as your familiarity started to fade, and that emotion he could not, would not, name, began to bleed away from your gaze,

“If that’s true, then why are you in here instead of being out there in the real world?”

Ice cold fear clutched at Nines' chest as your body beneath him vanished, your warmth replaced with an oh so familiar nothingness that made him want to weep for not just what he had lost, but for what he had never even had the opportunity to lose in the first place.

He was so lost in the darkness, with nothing and no one there, and he called out to you for what felt like hours with absolutely no response but his own voice echoing back at him, reminding him of his sins, and his atrocities born from emotions he had not been designed to feel, but had acted upon regardless.

He awoke from his scheduled stasis gasping for air, his thirium pump pounding in his chest cavity as he sat up quickly, looking around for someone in his darkened bedroom, the only light being that of the moon, which poured in past his open curtains.

But you were not there,

And you were the only one he would ever search for, whether he would admit that to himself or not.

He was completely alone, and the world was cold again, outside of you.

There was nothing to do now but lay awake and remember your warmth while ignoring that feeling of guilt as it grew stronger and stronger inside of him, because deep down, he knew

He would never find that emotion in your eyes anywhere outside of his own "dreams", which were really just his own imagination combined with the memories he wished he could simply be rid of entirely,

But he could never bring himself to let the feeling of you beneath him go,

Even if you were not his to dream of in the first place.

“Beautiful ruiner, what have you done to me?”

AO3 Link

[foxyanon]

Eve

Summary: Title inspired by Eve by Precious Pepala, and I did take a little inspiration from the movie The Devil All The Time. It’s a short one and a song fic, so enjoy.

Pairing: Masema Dagar x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: manipulation (its Masema), implied smut, religious themes

Word Count: 1621

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Wheel of Time nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers by @arcielee

Lock me up and throw away the key

'Cause there’s something wrong with me

Something inside you told you this was wrong, but he treated you so well that you didn’t realize until it was too late. Not that you’d want to leave, because you did love him. At least, that’s what you’d tell yourself when the old you, the independent you, made her appearance inside your own mind. That version of you still lived within your soul and she wanted out, or did she?

Throw me in a padded cell

Feel like I'm falling from heaven to hell

You met Masema on a perfect day, the sun filtering through the trees on your hike on a small stretch of the Appalachian Trail. You were so caught up in the sounds and beauty of nature that you hadn’t been paying attention to where you were going when you ran into the most handsome stranger you’d ever seen. His duo colored eyes caught you off guard, his strong hands wrapped around your arms to keep you from falling over. He smiled and you knew you were a goner, introducing yourself with a silly grin and apologizing for nearly sending you both off the path. He simply laughed that it wasn’t a big deal, but that you could make it up to him with a dinner date. You should’ve said no and walked away, but his eyes had ensnared you and you were lost.

Found the apple of my eye

And I want to take a bite

Whirlwind romance would be an understatement to describe the relationship you found yourself in. From the moment you met, Masema constantly swept you off your feet and you were on cloud nine with him. He was charming, charismatic and oh, so romantic. He opened doors for you, always held your hand whenever you crossed the street and lavished you with attention and gifts all the time. All flowers and honeyed words, you couldn’t see that it was textbook lovebombing. Maybe if you had seen the red flags then, you would have run away but you know that would be a lie.

Maybe you can call me Eve

Standing here under the forbidden tree

His kiss was all-consuming, the way he devoured you and all rational thought from your mind. His touch was hot and demanding, causing your head to spin whenever he so much as brushed your cheek with his fingers. You didn’t realize you had started pulling away from your friends, too caught up in Masema and the way he made you feel so damn good. They tried staging an intervention at one point, but Masema had convinced you that they were trying to pull you apart. That he loved you and he would never hurt you, and heaven help you because you believed him without question.

Father, forgive me for I have sinned

This love isn't holy, but I’m too far in

Despite having been together for weeks now, you and Masema hadn’t been intimate once. There were plenty of times you both got close, but he always pulled away, claiming he was waiting until marriage for such things. You respected his wishes, even if you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the carnal pleasures he would bring about within you. Instead, you contented yourself to heated make out sessions and just dealing with your own pleasure when you were alone. Not that you could do that often, since Masema rarely left you alone for extended periods of time.

Father, forgive me

'cause I don't know if I can change

You hadn’t been particularly religious before, but that all changed with Masema. He was heavily involved in his faith and the church, spending every Sunday at the church. You were skeptical in the beginning, the first real sign of resistance on your part but Masema’s silver tongue convinced you to go just once and try it. If you had been a stronger woman, you wouldn’t have caved so easily to his sweet face. You would have seen his smile for what it was, the kind hiding a forked tongue and fangs. But you weren’t and you went with him, sitting in the front pew as you listened to him passionately give a sermon. After that day, you never missed on of his services, always thrilled to hear him speak and really connect with the congregation.

This hurts me like hell

Feel like the angel who fell, fell for the devil

Masema proposed after only six months of nearly non-stop dating, the day he asked the question one of the happiest days of your life. He took you out to your favorite restaurant, wining and dining you and treating you like his most cherished possession. After dinner, he took you back to the place you both met before the sun set, his hand in yours as you both made your way along the path. Lanterns lit the little area he had set up, your favorite dessert in the picnic basket he brought and roses waiting on a blanket just off the trail a little ways. The whole thing was beyond romantic and never had you been with someone so considerate as him. Naturally you said yes when he asked, being swept up in one of his passionate kisses and feeling euphoric from the high only he provided.

God only knows what mother would say

If I brought the devil to dinner one day

Planning for your wedding started pretty much immediately since you were desperate to finally be with him and you set a date for only a few months later. However, you realized only after the planning process began did you realize you hadn’t introduced him to your parents. So, a few days later you were at your parents house having dinner when you told them the joyous news. You thought they’d be excited, but you were wrong. They tried talking to you alone, but Masema refused to leave your side, claiming that whatever needed to be spoken should happen in front of both of you. Your mom tried convincing you that this wasn’t like you and your dad outright told you that Masema wasn’t a good man. You weren’t hearing it and promptly left, unaware that would be the last time you’d see your parents.

She'd pray for deliverance

She'd pray for his grace

Even without all your friends and family, your wedding was a lovely affair. The whole church was in attendance as you walked down the aisle to pledge the rest of your life to the one who held your entire being in his hand. The ceremony was done in the chapel and the reception in the basement of the church, which meant no alcohol was involved. Not that you cared, Masema spun you around the makeshift dance area on the dingy blue carpet and that was a greater feeling than being inebriated. That night when you two made it to the hotel for your honeymoon, you both practically ripped each others clothes off and went at it like wild animals. After a year of heated touches and teasing, he finally gave in to your desires and had you on every surface of that room. If you had thought he had his hooks in you before, they only dug in deeper when you felt him inside you for the first time as be brought you pleasure no other ever had before.

'Cause I'm not the angel they want me to be

After your wedding, Masema convinced you to move somewhere new and start fresh when he was offered a position to be a pastor in a small church in the middle of nowhere. You agreed and soon you two were living in an old Victorian era farmhouse in some small mountain town. The chipped white paint on the exterior and wrap-around front porch were your favorite features, but due to how remote you were, you had to give up more than a few luxuries. You loved it, even if you didn’t have all the modern conveniences of your old apartment, like central heat and air or even high speed internet. Even though you you missed your hometown and being social, you had Masema and that was all you needed now.

Father, forgive me

'cause I don't think I wanna change

Because of your shared beliefs, you didn’t believe in contraception and thus, it wasn’t long before you ended up pregnant with the first of many. You were both thrilled, having wanted to start a family and raise them up properly with your religious beliefs. If you spent any time at all alone with your thoughts, you would have remembered that you didn’t want to end up a barefoot and pregnant housewife. But you never did, constantly chasing after small children or doing work for the church, seeing as you were the pastor’s wife and busy teaching impressionable young girls what their role would be in this life.

This hurts me like heaven

Feel like the angel who fell

Many years later, you still lived in blissful ignorance with Masema and your children. You didn’t know about how he had driven away your exes, or how he been deliberate with his actions as he manipulated you and molded you into his perfect little love. Whenever you’d start to resist him and his ideas, he simply showered you in more gifts and attention, making you forget all about whatever rebellious thoughts had rattled around your mind. You never could break free of his grasp, but you realized that you really didn’t want too. After all, you were in love with the devil and he loved you too.

Fell for the devil

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @whitedarkmoonflower @valeskafics @mrsarnasdelicious @synintheraven @bouncehousedemons

[sansxfuckyou]

let it really sink in

summary: he just wants to help now because he could nothing then

tags: self-esteem issues, canon compliant, ambiguous relationship

authors note: so yeagh thinking about them, A Lot, they mean so much to me

"Just open up and say 'ah,' it'll be over before you know it," Soul said.

"I'm not letting my Weapon spoon feed like I'm a baby," Maka said, a bit of a snap to her voice.

Pathetic.

She got hurt to the point that her Weapon is offering to spoon feed her- in front of a crowd of people no less. It's just so demeaning.

Soul rolled his eyes, "C'mon, you need to eat to heal."

Maka flopped back against the pillows in spite of the partial paralytics, "I refuse to let you belittle me like this."

Soul blanked, "Belittle? I'm just trying to help you out."

"How would you feel if I tried to spoon food into your mouth?" Maka asked.

The bickering didn't really subside until Black Star and Tsubaki had left, Kid and the twins followed suit. What could they add to the discussion anyways. The spite between a Weapon and a Meister are personal things for them to work out.

Soul is still trying to convince Maka to just stop fighting and accept the help.

She still isn't having it.

"Why won't you let me help you!?" The small cup of fruit is tossed to the floor when Soul hits the breaking point.

Maka didn't expect that response.

"I'm just trying to make sure you're healing properly and not starving and-" He cuts himself short.

"Soul-"

"No, it's whatever. It's cool. I'll go."

"Soul Eater Evans."

Soul froze up, "Yes, Maka?"

"You can feed me, if it'll get you out of this funk," Maka offered.

"Well I just tossed the fruit cup to the god damn floor." Soul thrust a hand in gesture to the splattered fruit chunks.

"Sit with me."

Soul heels to her offer without even realizing it. His arms are crossed and he's sitting at the edge of the bed.

"You've never tried to feed me when I got hurt before," Maka started with, "What happened?"

Soul doesn't speak.

"Soul."

"I couldn't help you. I didn't protect you. I'm supposed to be ready to die for you. I should've taken the fucking hit."

"It's fine, we didn't know it'd paralyze me," Maka said.

"It's not fine!" He's baring his teeth like a dog, "Just let me help you."

Maka paused, "Mishaps happen on the battlefield all the time."

"A mishap shouldn't leave you paralyzed from the neck down," Soul snapped.

He dropped onto his side, curled against Maka just a bit. Hell, if she got hit again he could've lost her. That'd get him revoked from being a Weapon, a failure who couldn't even keep his Meister from dying. His best friend, from dying.

He listens intently for her to speak, the steady thrum of her heartbeat ringing in his ears. He could've lost that, could've watched it end in an instant. Could've felt his Soul be severed from hers within seconds of an impact, felt as presence became absence.

It's a horrifying notion.

Ninety nine human Souls and a cat Soul, and then he'd have to start it all over again with someone new. Someone who wouldn't be able to wield him with the same prowess, who wouldn't be able to resonate with him the same. Someone different, someone that isn't his fucking Meister.

That's not gonna happen.

That'll never fucking happen.

He won't let it, he can't let it-

"Soul, can you stop gripping my hip?" Maka asked.

Oh.

He didn't, he didn't even notice it.

He retracts himself from her entirely, "Sorry."

"It's fine, just felt weird because you were gripping it too tight." Maka answered with. She would reach out to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but all that her reflex is greeted with is a sharp sensation shooting through arm.

"I can leave you alone if you want me too," Soul offered.

"Why would I want you to leave?" Maka asked.

"I'm being a nuisance, first I try to spoon feed you, then I hold you to tight, and I'm just being a clingy bastard."

"Why are men like this?" It's an utterance that doesn't go unnoticed but Soul doesn't say anything in response.

He lays himself across Maka's shins instead, it's nice to just be close. That's his Meister, sure she can't hold him right now. But just being beside her, next to her, able to try and protect her even if it's just with his human body, is nice.

It's his fucking job.

A Meister's life will always come before a Weapon's life.

"I am kind of hungry," Maka said.

Soul perked up.

"Could you get me some food?"

Like a dog, Soul does exactly as asked.

-/-/-/-

He spends the rest of the day doing as asked, even if demeaning it is nice. To be of use. To not be a failure. An unneeded assurance that he's actually good at being a Weapon, at being something intended to be used.

He's submissive, yes.

But submissive in the way a dog is submissive to the sheep it kills wolves for.

A submission that was earned and offered all at once.

Still, in spite of that he finds himself resting at Maka's feet like an obedient dog. He let's himself be a space heater, even if the heat he gives off is beyond minimal.

"Soul," Maka starts with.

Soul shoots up.

"Stop acting like a mutt," Maka said.

"I'm not acting like a mutt! I'm just being a good partner," Soul said firmly, although he was vaguely aware of the fact he was acting very much like a mutt. Not that he didn't like it. He did enjoy being useful.

"Sure you aren't," Maka teased, "Can you get me some water?"

Soul slung himself off the bed and faltered at the desk beside her bed, "You trust me enough to not spill water all over you if you drink from a cup?"

"Isn't that your cup?"

"Yeah, but tap tastes better than bottled- nobodies gonna see and nobodies gonna care."

"Yeah I want cup."

"Cool."

Soul brought the rim of the cup to her lips and slowly tilted. Bottled water is so much easier to not spill. But it's whatever, it's what Maka asked of him. So he'll oblige to her request.

He retracts when she bites on the edge.

"That looked like it hurt."

"It did, thank god this paralytic will wear off sooner than later."

Soul nodded, "Agreed. Anything else I can do for ya?"

"No."

"Cool, I'm gonna try and conk out then."

Soul places the glass on the desk before splaying himself flat across Maka on his stomach. His hands lay, fingers twined, at the base of her ribs, head tilted to the side where it rests.

"You're gonna sleep on top of me?" Maka asked.

"Yep, got any issues with it?" Soul asked back, grinning up at her the whole while.

"It's fine," Maka said. A wash of pins and needles shot through her arms as she tried to raise them. Stupid paralytic.

He lets himself rest up against her again, "Thanks."

[taintedges]

Look at how I descend lower until I am nothing but dust

Scattered thoughts about Hozier’s poetry. Quoted from his lyrics, while my ramblings descend after.

“If there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact they didn’t do it right”

Icarus flying too close to the sun could not tell he was dying because he was too enraptured. Did he think that his skin burning was his love so bright it was on fire?

“Skinning the children for a war drum, putting food on the table selling bombs and guns”

and then, “If there's something still to take there is ground to break”

imagine emerging deep in the bowels of a song covered in blood

Look at this calamity and watch who survives. Aren’t you all magnificent in your efforts to forge ahead and begin again?

this is the official soundtrack of Dante’s fvcking inferno. harrowing.

“Do you know, I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you? That I'd walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you.”

Orpheus and Eurydice has love never made you feel insane? only a tragedy. To love someone enough to save them and to love someone so much that you cannot save them. Love is looking back and you cannot tell me otherwise.

“They are buried without scalp in the shattered bedrock of our home”

Ship of fucking Theseus. Is it rebuilding or painstakingly re-piecing a corpse? If they shed every part of you that you have become effluvia, what else is there to retrieve?

“My life was a storm, since I was born How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it”

yeah fvck you (at this point i am stardust). darling you forget yourself. you think this scares me, my paramour?

“Hold me like water or Christ, hold me like a knife”

Like you’re terrified I will slip through your fingers or like you cannot let me go if only for your own sake and not mine

If you can’t keep me around because you love me, if I'm only here for your purpose then Christ, I’d be your mistress just to have you around.

Hold me even though I am hard to hold. wield me or hold me tight with the strongest of intentions, with the intent to kill

“If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait. Until that day, I'd rather take my whiskey neat”

My house can not hold us, so do not bother, there is no invitation. I watch begrudging. I watch in veneration, in the same reverence in which man beholds his saint. cast me down. You are too saccharine to save me.

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her”

Imprisonment. Addiction. Death itself. i fear would not stop me.

my temple, my cathedral, my synagogue

Is it then blasphemy to call my damned soul pious when my love for you is holy and akin to salvation?

and then finally my absolute favorite.

“I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door”

poignant. visceral.

Screw these other righteous mortals, come with me instead. Let’s take a stroll through the nine circles of hell.

[pearldog30]

The guys reacting to you riding a mechanical bull.

Ghost, soap, Alejandro, Rudy.

As you can tell this is going to be the guys reacting to you riding on a mechanical bull. You and the boys decided to go to a bar/club and you wanted to give it a little ride 😉. (Credit for this goes to @simonsdoll that nasty filthy animal gave me the idea. Also my friends, were going to be reaching 100 followers! soon so there's going to be a special for that)

Other works 👉 Master list

Warnings| I guess this is considered NSFW mentions.

Ghost 👻

You were sitting next to ghost at the bar, listening to him chat up some of the other guys. they were celebrating a victory on a successful mission, and he brought you along. You were getting bored/lost in the conversation, until you see the mechanical bull catch your eye. You've never been on one before, so you decided to give it a try. even if it meant Simon getting pissed off at you.

You were able to get out of his grip without him noticing, or at least you hoped. Walking up to the guy who controlled the bull you asked him for a turn, and he happily let you on. there were already a few people sitting around the mechanical bull ring, mainly men. So of course you knew you were definitely in for a ride. Since this was your first time on the bull it starts out nice, and slow. jolting you forward unexpectedly, catching a loud laugh from you. and this makes ghost and the rest of the 141 turn heads.

He is wide-eyed when he catches you on it. Seeing that there's tons of men cheering you on, it kind of makes his blood boil in a way. But he can't do anything other than watch the show. The whole time he is eyeing you down. maintaining that eye contact, burning right through your soul. and you know you're in trouble. 👀

"damn I guess you haven't been giving her enough rides lately" soap says jokingly, giving him a pat on the back. Simon giving him that classic deadpan stare, making soap shut up right away. He decides to come up to the bull ring to get a better view. but to also give looks that would kill other men eyeing you down.

As soon as you get off it, he grabs you without a word and drags you straight to the car.(I hope you're not too tired from the bull. because when you get home you're going to be getting a good leg workout in, and then some.) May God be with you in your final decisions

Soap 🧼

You and soap decided to go on a night out together. Stopping at the bar was one of the places. and well low and behold soap being The confident, good looking man he is. He was bound to get attention from the ladies. They didn't care if he was taken, they sure as hell were going to try and get your man. soap being a little shit he is, he decides to flirt back with them to piss you off.

As he's chatting away, you knew there was a bull ring at this bar you've have been there a few times. so you decided to wait your turn, and get some attention from the other men back to get at him. When he notice you getting on the bull his mouth drops to the floor. He didn't expect you had it in you, to do something like this. He stops all the chatting with the ladies. and comes up to the bull and decides to cheer you on, Being the support of partner he is.

He is doing the whole nine yards. whistling, clapping, low-key kind of praising you. Every time you catch his eye, he gives you that devilish smirk. When you get off some of the men are lingering towards you, complimenting you. and this makes something in him switch. For the rest of the night he has a tight arm around you. making sure everybody knows you're his little bull rider.😉

When y'all finally decide to leave "might have to show me some of them riding moves when we get home ayy?" he cheekily whispers in your ear. and you know he's not going to let you live it down, until you finally give him the ride he's been dying for.

Alejandro 🔥

You and the rest of the guys were out celebrating his birthday, and since it was all about your big boy. you couldn't help but noticed ladies staring him down, and some of the other men staring you down has well. you knew you guys were a good looking couple, so of course why wouldn't they stare.

Alejandro was too busy chatting away with his friends, this making you get a idea. a devilish smirk, spreading across your face. Since it was his birthday, everybody was dressed in normal civilian clothes. and he decided to wear his cowboy hat for some ungodly known reason. which was perfect for your plan. You take his cowboy hat, to show the other ladies he's yours. he notices but doesn't say anything. then he realizes what you're doing, as you give him a wink behind your shoulder, walking up to the mechanical bull.

Cursing under his breath, as he watches all the men cheer you on. you know he's a jealousy, possessive, lover. You know exactly what gets him going so why not have some fun with him.

You started to struggle holding on to the bull as it got faster, and it started bucking harder. making Alejandro's hat fall off, and you go flying off of it. making Alejandro chuckle to himself, as all the men around the pen, gas. you walk back to the group of men, ashamed almost. you are holding your arm cuz you accidentally landed on it wrong, and it hurts. Alejandro notices "mi amor what happened" he says in his sweet deep voice. You shrug "nothing just hurt my arm" you say in response, hoping he doesn't laugh at you "hmm well I guess I'll have to give you some lessons when we get home" he sweetly whispers in your ear. taking back his hat. " Actually you know what, you should probably keep this. it looks better on you anyway. Hell It'll look even better later tonight" he says. taking the hat off of his head, teasily putting it on you. making you blush at his words.

You know he's going to end up making you give him the ride of his life when you get home.

Rudy🥺

You, Rudy, Alejandro and his partner. all decided to go out for some drinks, on a little double date at a local bar y'all love. When y'all walked in you noticed something that wasn't there before. the new mechanical bull, you and Alejandro's partner giving each other the same smirk thanking the same thing. Rudy noticing the little plan y'all had going "mi amor please don't" he knows what you're up to from the tone in his voice. But before you could protest, your pull away by Alejandro's partner. When you get up to the bull you watch as ales partner go first, and the way he's smirking at them. you know they're going to be in for a time later tonight.

And now it's your turn everybody's cheering you on. and you're a little nervous, before you get on. you catch Rudy's eyes and he gives you a little flustered, cheeks becoming red look. And you decide to tease him. As it starts up and starts going a little bit faster, and faster, rocking you back and forth. you maintain eye contact the best you could with Rudy. making him sink back to where he's standing, almost as if he doesn't exist. he's bright red and you could tell his little mind is thinking of all the ways he's going to get his pay back tonight. You blow him a little kiss, as you ride your heart out on the bull. and this is what makes him snap. Alejandro noticing the intense stare between you two, giving him a pat on the back.

As the random men are looking at you, saying dirty things about you. you could tell the very usually calm demeanor of Rudy change. As soon as you get off. Rudy grabs you so gently, yet strongly. Tugging you away with him in a private area where no one else is. "You have no idea what you do to me sometimes mi niña preciosa" (my precious girl) he whispers in your ear, as your cheeks glow red. he goes down on you, giving you the most possessive, dominant, look you've ever seen. and you can't lie, you love it. "Damn I might have to do this more often" you quietly laugh, and he raises his eyebrows at you, almost as if telling you don't even think about it. it just drives you insane.

You ramped up our poor Rudy so bad. he couldn't even wait until y'all got home, he's such a needy possessive boy in these situations.

I know this is probably short. but like it was a cute little idea, and honestly I loved it. so I hope yall enjoy it. I hope you are having a good day/night wherever you are. reblogs, and comments are always appreciated 🖤

[shellem15]

The Nine Hells of Baator

As a devil fangirl, I finally decided to write a basic overview of the Nine Hells, which has consumed my brain since forever. While most of this is taken straight from forgotten realms lore (shoutout to the wiki!), I've put my own spin on things and emphasized certain details I found interesting. The list of sins associated with each layer (Wrath, Fear, Greed, Lust, Deceit, Gluttony, Sloth, Envy, and Pride) is taken from the Enneagram sins, because I needed 9 of them instead of just 7.

I might decide to go more into depth for each layer/archdevil, but no promises!

Overview:

The Nine Hells of Baator is a plane of pure law and evil, a place where tyranny reigns supreme. Devils, or Baatezu, make their home here, crafted from the souls of the damned and eternally bound to serve their betters. The Hells consist of nine descending layers of sin and punishment, connected by the flowing waters of the river Styx. Each layer is ruled by an Archdevil, a devil of immense power and influence who exerts total control over their domain. While the layers are distinct, they are still interconnected, each serving a purpose to further the Hells' agenda.

Devilish society is centered around power, hierarchy, and order, with those without power seeking to claim it and those with power seeking to keep it. The Blood War, the endless conflict between Devils and Demons, keeps the Hells running; an eternal enmity that keeps the populace from turning against their masters. Everything in the Hells ultimately serves to further the goals of Asmodeus, the Lord and Master of this dark domain.

Avernus:

The first layer of Hell is Avernus, a blasted plane of endless trenches and rivers of blood. It is a war-torn battlefield, the Hells' first line of defense against the ceaseless hordes of demon-kind. This is the layer of Wrath, of eternal bloodshed and unending hatred. The armies of the Hells are stationed here, ready to be thrown to the crushing wheel of the Blood War.

Avernus is ruled over by their fell general, the Archduchess Zariel. A fearsome warrior—a fallen angel—who lives for the kill, for the next great conquest.

Dis:

The second layer of Hell is Dis, a plane of those who watch, and those who are watched. An iron city, one of smoke and steel and hidden eyes. This is the layer of Fear, whose denizens live in terror of those beyond the walls—and of those within, as well. Dis acts as a multi-tool for the Hells: it is a hub of interplanar trade, a great titan of industry that produces the arms and means needed to fuel the Blood War, and, most critically, it contains the greatest surveillance network in the outer planes. Knowledge is as valuable as souls in the streets of Dis.

The overseer of this foul city is the Archduke Dispater, an old devil, paranoid about usurpation despite the tight grip he keeps over his domain. He locks himself away in his iron tower, a panopticon from which he monitors all dealings in his realm.

Minarous:

The third layer of Hell is Minarous, a plane of those who have, and those who have not. It is a thick swampland, home to monstrosities that slither and crawl through the muck and mud. This is the layer of Greed, of crushing poverty, sinking debt, and grabbing hands. The heart of this fetid realm is the Bank of Minarous, the center of all commerce in the Nine Hells. This is only bank allowed to mint soul coins, the official currency of the Hells. The Blood War runs on the souls of the damned, and all souls pass through Minarous' coffers.

The master of the bank is the Archduke Mammon, a miserly, serpentine devil who sits upon a hoard larger than any dragon's. He is a devil loved by none, but money speaks louder than words, and power is oft bought rather than earned.

Phlethegos:

The fourth layer of Hell is Phlethegos, a plane of flame and rock, pleasure and penance, judges and those who whisper in their ears. The great courts of the Hells reside in this volcanic realm, and so too do the pleasure houses and casinos. This is the layer of Lust, of tipped scales and weighted dice, of burning passion underneath cool indifference, of great rewards and dire consequences. Law and order is the backbone of Hellish society, and it is here where "justice" is served.

Reflecting the dual nature of Phlethegos, the rulers of this place are the Archduke Belial and Archduchess Fierna. Belial is the original ruler of the fourth Hell, the great Justiciar who presides over the court system. Fierna is the newcomer, Belial's daughter and rising challenger, the Lady of Lusts and Pleasures. On the surface, it seems that father and daughter are at odds, each vying for power over the other; Much like their realm, however, their interests are more entwined then one might think.

Stygia:

The fifth layer of Hell is Stygia, a plane of lies and exaggerations, of truths distorted in icy reflections. A frozen ocean of dark waters and bright glaciers blinding those who gaze into the ice. This is the layer of Deceit, of endless news cycles and lies sold as truths. A war cannot be fought without support, and the broadcasts of the fifth ensure the thirst for blood among Hell's populace is never sated.

The chief of this artic bureau is the Archduke Levistus, a handsome, silver-tongued devil frozen in a vast glacier. The conniving charlatan was trapped as punishment for his own treachery, and now can only speak though the forked tongues of his servantry.

Malbolge:

The sixth layer of Hell is Malbolge, a twisted plane of cushioned cellblocks, of iron bars and shackles disguised as sweet salvation. It is an endless labyrinth, a prison of luxury and extravagance which traps its inmates like flies in honey. This is the layer of Gluttony, where excess and indulgence bind souls tighter than any chain. Even the Hells have its lawbreakers, its criminals and traitors, and here is where those souls are sentenced, forced to pay penance for their crimes and misdeeds.

The warden of this dreadful prison is the Archduchess Glasya, Princess of the Hells and daughter of Asmodeus. While she oversees the Hells' penal system, she is also the Hells' greatest criminal, bending Baator's laws and rules as far as she can while skirting her way out of consequences.

Maladomini:

The seventh layer of Hell is Maladomini, a once-bustling plane now fallen to rot and ruin. It is a place of the lost and forgotten, of decaying cities, crumbling infrastructure, and long-abandoned ghost towns. This is the layer of Sloth, of malicious negligence and crushing complacency, of rusted factories and strip-mines long since dried up. Bureaucracy is the bane of progress, and here, where all the records in the Hells are kept and stored, bureaucracy reigns supreme.

The chief executive of this putrid domain is the Archduke Baalzebul, the Lord of the Flies. Once a beautiful angel of the Heavens themselves, he is now as grotesque and wretched as the realm he rules.

Cania:

The eighth layer of Hell is Cania, a plane of melting ice and rapid development, of forbidden knowledge and those who wield it. It is a frozen mountain range, one where vast glaciers and snow-capped peaks hide secret laboratories and great libraries, where "progress" is made at the expense of morality and reason. This is the layer of Envy, of the relentless strive to be greater than your peers, of the pain one feels at others' success. The Blood War demands bigger weapons and greater firepower, and Cania is at the forefront of these advancements.

The mastermind behind this frigid realm is the Archduke Mephistopheles, the Hells' greatest wizard and second-most powerful Archdevil. In his resentment of his fellows, the Lord of Hellfire has thrown himself to invention and experimentation, creating new and terrible magics that melt the very foundations of his icy domain.

Nessus:

The ninth and lowest layer of Hell is Nessus, a plane of those who rule and hold themselves above all else—a plane of power itself. It is a wind-swept wasteland scarred by endless chasms and ravines, where grand citadels and fortresses light up the darkest trenches in the Outer Planes; where the greatest deals are struck behind closed doors. This is the layer of Pride, of great hubris and unwavering conviction—the mother of all vices. It is here where laws are made and authority is unchallenged, where power is held as most sacred and holy. All the Hells are beholden to the will of Nessus.

The Lord of this realm, and of all the Hells, is the Archduke Asmodeus. The greatest of all devils, the Lord of Lies and Prince of Evil, the mastermind behind the Hellish Project. He is ancient and powerful, unchallenged in his dominion, and a being of pure, unfettered arrogance. A tyrant who seeks absolute domination over all of reality, and one willing to do whatever it takes to achieve that goal.

[gurlbesimpin]

In the Beast's den

{Karl heisenberg x Gen!neutral reader}

Chapter nine: Who you really are II/II

CW: mention of child abuse!

notes: smut in next chapter! ;)

The silence is deafening as the lord of metal leads you through hall after hall towards his office. After his outburst mere minutes ago; he isn't fully sure how or even IF he should/can apologize properly. You weren't trying to hurt or leave him like he thought. You in just want to talk things out, find out more about the powerful man you're currently living with. Thoughts rush through his mind...

Is he wrong for lashing out?

Surely he was. You really weren't trying to hurt a damn thing.

But what if you secretly were? 

No, you would've done so by now. 

Heisenberg opens the heavy metal door to his secluded office, allowing you a second to enter before the door flies shut again. He practically plops down in his chair, his fedora discarded on the floor. His dark round glasses however, remain on his scarred face. A strange mechanism of protection he developed over the years. He doesn't want to seem vulnerable and weak with emotions, so he hides his hazel eyes or 'gateways to the soul' behind small round shades. His hand shakily reaches for an old bottle of whiskey on his desk, not even bothering to pour himself a glass he raises the amber liquid to his scarred lips and just drinks it.

His body language explains his current wave of emotions perfectly. It's plain and simple really; he's stressed. His mind whirls with regret, anxiety and guild for lashing out and even physically harming you. Granted, no lasting wound are casted on your skin, that doesn't mean that his regret isn't palpable though. After a generous amount of the amber liquid vanishes between the lord's lips, he slams the bottle down onto the desk with a heavy sigh; his eyes never meeting yours. He simply glances at the old scraps and trinkets on the old shabby wooden desk, the atmosphere thick and filled with emotion. The urge to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder is getting too strong to ignore, but last time it didn't go down very well. Despite making this mistake before, you hesitantly reach out towards the quivering lord. Surprisingly, he doesn't verbally fuss. Rather, he gently grabs your hand and places it on the desk, his larger gloved hand resting atop yours in an oddly protective manner. Still, he doesn't dare take a look at you, but something seems to be processing within his brain.

"She took me, took me away from my family... my friends... my home- I was... hell, around six?"

Heisenberg pauses, his gaze fixed on your hands slowly intertwining with each other; silver locks framing his face in the dim light. 

"All i ever wanted was... normality. A normal fuckin' life, away from this shithole, away from lady super-sized cunt... away from that bitch. She took my innocence, my childhood, my dignity, my whole future! she stole everything for her stupid fucking daughter! I just like the other three pissbrains, am a 'failed experiment' to her. I never wanted any of this; not the village, not this factory, hell- i don't give a shit about my powers! I wanted to grow up, have a family an' live life like anyone else fuckin' would"

The words are filled with a venomous mixture of anger and sorrow, the raw emotion on display is another bit of proof that he IS still human underneath all the horrifying things he's done and wen't through. Despite his cruel nature, his experiments, his past, the cadou... he's still human. 

Instead of interrupting his rant, you place your second hand on his; nodding whilst signaling for him to continue without worry. 

"I don' remember when this happened... but I sure as hell remember the pain. that BITCH put me through more pain than any one of these stupid villagers could even comprehend. And yet, they worship the ground she walks on. If only they knew the truth about exactly what she's done do them, to us, to their families..."

Suddenly, a question fills your troubled mind... Is he showing, empathy?

"after the Cadou implantation process, she'd subject me to regular 'checkups' as she'd call 'em. She'd subject me to fire, ice... anything ye can think of. She'd want to see what the Cadou manifested as within my body. She'd throw me out in the cold, make me hold my hands over fire, throw me into a room for acting out in any little way... shit i can't remember if she fed me more than once a fuckin' week! she'd cut me, inject me with all kinds of shit which I still have no clue of... And when finally her 'experiments' came to an end, I was tossed in this factory that some old relative of mine owned decades ago. I was lonely, shit i was lonely... even that tall bitch felt bad for awhile... until I started fucking hating all... all this! That oversized vampire cunt had a life before all this... I never did! I can barely remember my mother's voice! I... I'm not even sure if 'Karl' is my actual first name..."

His words come to a halt when a singular tear rolls down his cheek, landing on his lap. A very faint sob escapes his now-trembling lips, his usual cocky demeanor now fully dissolving into what he is inside. A poor, scared little boy who just craves love. As if an invisible force is controlling you, you move forward. Your head gently leaning on his shoulder as his display of emotions causes tears to rise within your own eyes.

"I'll kill that bitch for what she did to me..."

He whispers, his gloves hand shivering and sandwiched between your own. Not even thinking about your actions; you gently cup his face, forcing his eyes to meet yours as slowly, you pull off his sunglasses. His scarred and stubbled cheek is covered in tears now, he sobs out a quiet and brief apology for his previous actions. Shit, are you really crying? Even after how he treated you earlier? But now with a full explanation on his part, it makes more sense... He doesn't know how to respond to emotions. He couldn't have learned it through Miranda, and how would he learn it when he's alone and isolated in his factory as A CHILD?! 

"And I... Will help you"

You whisper whilst your thumbs brush over his cheeks, wiping away his tears as you give him a sympathetic look. Something shifts in his eyes, he seems more comfortable, more open... as if weight was lifted off his shoulders after carrying it for god knows how long. Once again as if you aren't in control of your own actions, you lean forward slightly. His eyes give nothing away other than comfort and sorrow as you inch closer, still wiping his tears before...

His hand flies to your waist, pulling you closer as his scarred lips finally make contact with yours. The sound he makes is easiest described as a grunt, unexpected, but not unwelcome. The kiss lasts for mere seconds before both pull away, his eyes silently begging for more. He takes a breath before he breaks the awkward silence:

"shit... buttercup-"

He murmurs, his lips immediately slamming onto yours again. This time around, you part your lips as a silent invitation, which he happily accepts. His rough tongue slithers out of his mouth, happily exploring your own as he wraps his arms around you impossibly tight. The sorrow in his eyes quickly is drowned out by lust and passion, his hands tightly gripping your waist as he maneuvers you onto his lap. It's obvious he enjoys this, his hardness pressing into your inner thigh. He pulls back, catching his breath whilst admiring your features.

"shit... you'll be the death of me-"

He whispers before his lips attach to your neck, gently sucking on the tender flesh, eliciting a soft moan from you. His already hard cock get's impossibly harder at the delightful sound, only encouraging his lips to suck at your pulse. Your hands clumsily reach for his shoulders for support before he bites down on your soft skin. 

"I could eat you right up, buttercup~"

He chuckles against your skin, his beard adding a nice sensation to the slight sting from his sharp teeth. Before he can go any further however, you pause him:

"bed, please"

Is all you can muster before he lifts you up with inhuman strength, carrying you into towards his private quarters for a night of passion.

[zalia]

The Continuing Adventures of a D2 Player in D1

I am partway through the Taken King expansion now! I have comitted Regicide, explored the Dreadnaught, and even bribed Shaxx to make me a sword. And I have more thoughts about it!

The Bad

Killing Oryx was... kind of anticlimactic tbh? I know the real death is in the raid, but it genuinely felt like just one more mission. There's no real feeling of completion like there is in D2's DLCs, at least partly because D1 is very sparse on cut scenes and character interactions. It feels like you kill Oryx and no-one gives a damn because there's so few character moments to round it off. 'Oh, killed a Hive god? Must be Tuesday.'

The trend of not explaining anything continues. Several of TTK missions leading up to killing Oryx involve Eris shouting at us repeatedly that 'you must become ascendant to follow Oryx!'. No, she will not be explaining what it means to be Ascendant or why it is so important (I mean, I know because it's been nearly 10 years and I have read the lore, but if I hadn't it would be utterly baffling)

There are these patrols you can randomly get where you pick up a mysterious signal. They have several steps and require you to do random things to progress them - the patrol text is (deliberately) glitched and resolves as you get closer. For example, I had one where one of the steps was to do an emote, another step was to kill hobgoblins etc. I love this idea, do not get me wrong! I like the idea of picking up this random signal. But as far as I can tell, these patrols don't lead anywhere. At the end, Ghost says 'At least we know what the message says, even if we don't know who its from'. AND THEN NEVER TELLS YOU WHAT THE MESSAGE SAYS. I have to wonder if this was something that was meant to lead to content that got cut, or was a hook left that could be used for something in future. Possibly something to do with the Nine would have worked, given the random nature of the messages.

*sob* Getting good armour is such a pain. And confusing.

The jump down to the area with the first secret chest in VoG is *horrendous* especially since you can't mantle. There's no ledge to jump from opposie the entrance. (I have not run the whole D1 VoG, but you can break in by doing certain things without having to do the plates).

Who the hell decided that the destination material for Mars, a planet which is predominantly a red-brown colour, should be a RED-BROWN ROCK?!

The Good

One of the missions in the lead up to killing Oryx involves you having to stealth through Crota's End raid area to steal a piece of his soul. The enemies have a red ring around them you need to avoid or you'll be seen. It's actually pretty cool! very atmospheric too, and nice to have a mission which isn't about brute forcing your way through enemies. I think the stealth system would need some tweaking to make it genuinely fun for more than a one-off thing, but it was a nice change of pace!

The Dreadnaught is a really awesome patrol area. It feels huge, there are lots of nooks and crannies to explore, hidden bridges you need Ghost to see, tunnels to crawl through. Plenty of secrets. Gloriously creepy. I am not even close to finishing exploring (at least partly because I keep getting lost - my sense of direction is garbage in games)

There are different Vanguard Strike playlists available: Legacy, Taken King, and SIVA crisis. Vanguard strikes are different depending on where you are in the story!!! I did not know this going in. There's one strike I've done a few times on the Legacy playlist, where a Fallen Archon escapes from the Prison of Elders. I got it yesterday on the Taken King playlist. Starts out the same, then partway through you go into a cave system. Previously, those caves have involved fighting Vex. Went in last night and it's full of Taken! That was a shock. And progressing, the rest of the strike is full of blights and when you reach the Archon fight, the Archon has been taken! It was a really cool thing to experience, especially going in without knowing beforehand. Doing something I thought I was familiar with and having it change up on me was great. Similarly, the Omnigul strike (the one the Disgraced strike is based off). The dialogue has changed up to kind of move the timeline and have it set after Oryx's fall, and the first room, which has previously contained only Eliksni... now you get ambushed by Hive too! I really love the idea of Vanguard strikes evolving with the storyline - it makes them feel more connected to the world state. I know we've had updates for Lake of Shadows and Arms Dealer in a similar way, but god i would love more!

The vault is split into sections so you can see just your armour, just your weapons, just your other assorted junk, instead of one 600 space mess.

I am getting so much practice using Golden Gun. In D2 I have used Blade Barrage almost exclusively, but since starting D1, where Blade Barrage does not exist, I've started using Deadshot in D2 as well and I'm having fun with it! I even got into a crucible match in D2 and got several golden gun kills which was nice!

I'm more willing now to use supers in D2 instead of always saving them for the boss XD It is a space magic game and I should use the space magic more.

Other Thoughts

I cannot decide how I feel about the currencies+destination materials On the one hand, I am constantly running out of glimmer. It's much more scarce and hard to get and the amount you can carry is much much lower (25K I believe) and you need it for levelling up weapons and armour just to get the perks. Collecting destination materials is necessary and can be kind of a slog (also you need different Ghost Shells to get the trackers for different materials). I know getting the exotic swords later is gonna be painful because you need to get a material that has a low drop rate. Legendary Marks are random drops from doing activities too, and you need them to buy any legendary gear. You can hold 200 of them at a time, and some of the stuff costs 175 Marks. On the other hand, it makes acquiring weapons and armour something a bit more special and valuable. In D2 I can just go to Banshee and buy whatever I want, and make that glimmer back in approximately ten seconds on any destination. I currently have max engrams with all the seasonal vendors, and a whole lot with the ritual vendors and I decode them just to junk whatever comes up a lot of the time. Destination materials... exist. And have no real use. I feel like the ease of acquiring weapons in D2 means I don't appreciate them. And I don't branch out and try new weapons much. I junk the majority of the random drops I get without even bothering to look. In D1 I end up trying out pretty much any purple weapon that comes my way because I don't have that many to choose from. Needing to acquire destination materials means that I spend more time exploring and poking into places I wouldn't normally bother to in D2. Will that side room on the dreadnaught have Hadium flakes for me? IDK, better check it out because I need them! So my rate of play feels more leisurely - wandering a patrol zone without any real purpose feels more rewarding, even when I'm returning to places like the Cosmodrome. So yeah, conflicted about this. We'll see how I feel later on when I have played many more hours of D1

y'know, I would love it if they brought the Dreadnaught back as a destination, maybe for Episode Heresy (the Hive one) after Final Shape. But not the Dreadnaught as it is in D1 - the Dreadnaught after 10 years of being derelict, picked over by scavengers, fought over by different Hive factions, slowly rotting after the death of its master. I think there's a lot that could be done with it - new Hive cults forming in the depths? Taken monstrosities? Some of the descriptions of areas on the Dreadnaught also talk about how Oryx kept specimens from conquered/destroyed species there, and tortured and experimented on them. Ghost at one point comments that there are things even the Hive fear and have yet to be able to weaponise. So... what else is still trapped on the Dreadnaught?

Shaxx has a line when you bring him Oryx's sword Shaxx: That sword shard you carry... is that the dreaded Willbreaker, Sword of Oryx? I have not seen such a blade in many years, Guardians.' I know it doubtless means 'hey, I was on the moon during the Great Disaster. I saw some shit', but the way it's phrased is so specific that it's a great jumping off point for fic ideas XD

[kelppsstuff]

Benevolence

Chapter Two: Vivian

Warnings: none

Word count: 2035

Masterlist

“And then Adam pushed us out the door.” I told Lucifer over the phone. I had decided to stick around till the next extermination. I heard him growl protectively. “And how is Charlie?” I looked over the balcony out my window and saw her with Angel and Alastor the latter blowing up the snake in front of him.

“She has a good heart. Gets it from her father.” I heard him sigh over the phone. “Having one of those always gets you hurt.” He told me, but he knew I already knew that. ‘On the next topic, any ideas on why they moved the date up? They already made the last one more brutal than before.”

‘I couldn’t tell you, but hey the overlords are having a meeting next week and maybe you can take my place, find out yourself what the next course of action should be.” He was trying to pawn his work off to me, nothing I’m not used too. I always give him what he wants so long it was in my power. After all he is my king, but more importantly he’s my friend. “I’ll stop by and send the details over.”

“What would I do without you?” I think I should be asking you that. “Be one lonely bitch. Speaking of meeting, I have a few already today.” I heard him hum while asking details. “Fist one is with the rest of the commandments, most likely about extermination day. The other one I set up is with Adam?”

“Adam? Why?”

“To confirm a theory of mine.” I walked away from the window and out to the elevator, getting on. “So sure he’ll just tell you whatever you want?”

“My dear there’s more than one wsy to acquire information.” He clicked his lips, and I watch the number go down in the elevator. “How’s your hand looking?” I looked down and my burned hand. Even though Lute and Adam were projecting themselves they were still in Heaven. So when I reached for her – well her soul – I reached into heaven. Burning the fucking my hand, my arm healed up quiker though. “Good-bye Lucifer.” The doors opened and I ended the call.

I walked out and about, making my way to my meeting when I noticed alastor and Vox singing with each other or against depending on how you look at it. Though I guess someone recognized me and said my name so loud everyone turned to me. Fuck. Me. I started to up my pace in speed when people started to try and come up to me. Fuck fuck fuck. I turned abruptly into an ally and purple smoke started to surround me – teleporting me to the board room. Gotta love magic. I looked around the table and saw nine demons staring at me. Guess I was late. “About fucking time.” Colin the commandment of truth spoke. Bitchass is what I like to call him. “She was not too late, waiting is not a problem.” Oh hears Xander of patience – talk about being what you preach. I could have been three years late and he wouldn’t give a damn. Fitting for his role that’s for sure. I took my seat and listened as Silas; commandment of piety began talking.

“Colin of truth

Xander of patience

Eleanor of pasifim

Mabel of selflessness

Emma of repose

Nora of purity

Enzo of faith

Killian of reticence

Vivian of benevolence

And I Silas of piety.”

He did this everytime, he’d list us all from our title. Sure it was nice for the ego but holy fuck I know who these freaks are. “The extermination is going to happen sooner than ever, and something tells me that this is going to be the worse one yet.” Nooooo I couldn’t of guess that!

“As commandments we are to protect the hellborn.” I rested my head on my hand as the meeting went on and on.

“Would anyone like to add to this meeting?” I raised my hand and spoke for the first time since entering this room. “The princess and the radio demon created a hotel in hopes to rehab these sinners to bring the into heaven. I would like for you all to try and speared the word, but please no force. This has to be willingly.” Each commadedment obviously though it was a fools run, hell I did too, but Lucifer would want me to help his daughter. They all nodded and with that the meeting a adjourned, onto my next task of the day. Adam.

I did the sign in process just as before and Apparently I was early, since no one was here. I waited for his projection to appear but instead the door opened. Odd. He walked through the door and took a seat that he was in before. “What’s up dangertits.” Did he just– nevermind.

“How’s extermination planning?” He opened a bag of chips and started talking. “Fucking rocks. Want some? There salt n viniger my favorite.” I raised my brow, surley he didn’t think I was that stupid. “I’m not going to fall for your hologram trick.” This time he was the one who raised a brow. He stood and walked up to my sitting form and litterly shived a chip in my mouth. He didn’t hand it to me, he shoved it, with his fingers and everything. “Not a hologram babe. Unfortantely I’m here for real.” I started to chew the chip, I never tried salt n vinigur but I’ll admit it, there fucking amazing. “So you called for a meeting, what’s up?”

“Why move up the extermination date?” He looked around the room and walked to the door, opening it. “Let’s walk and talk?” A commandment and a holy angel? Walking together? Talk about roumors. “Thanks but I have a reputation. Besides where would we go?” He finished off his bag and made them disappear – along with his wings. He grabbed my hand and started to drag me. “First off, your reputation would imporve with me, second off I’m going to go see that greed clown bitch, and am taking you with me.” I stopped dead in my tracks and looked him up and down.

“You do know that one of the cities is literally called ransom? You stick out like a sore thumb with that outfit. I mean you have an A jeez just how cocky can one guy be?” He snapped and suddenly his robe was gone, reveling black combats boots, black cargo pants, and a black compress shirt. He kept his gloves on and waved his hands. We were suddenly in the clown show. He looked up at the clow preforming and it gave me a chance to admire his chest. The compress did him well. I’ll admit I thought he was larger because of the robes but that was quite the opposite. He had a wide chest, filled with muscle yet he was still somehow lean. He was tall, about 6’4 and I get the hype people on Earth give him. I looked away before he would notice my staring. “Why are we here!” I yelled to him over the noise.

“I’m suppose to see if any demon can be redeemed, so I need to take the day to check out hell, which fucking sucks. I thought this guy seems rock n roll, but honestly he fucking sucks.” I agree with that.

“If your looking for redemption, your looking in the wrong place. “Bold of you to assume I am.” I hummed and looked around, Mammon was just going on and on about his clown contest but he did remind me with his insults of woman.

“Oh looks it’s you as a clown” I told the angel as the clown said something on how girls couldn’t ever do what he could — be funny. “That’s not even funny, no way in hell would I ever be a clown.” Hah, your in hell. I’m so funny.

—

“So he’s one of the seven sins?” I looked down to my phone, ordering a car. “Yeah, Mammon sin of greed. He’s one of the most manipulative bastards I’ve meet.” Adam hummed in understanding and looked around the bloody streets in disgust. “So how does the order of power work around here?”

“Imps are the lowest rank — the hell born.

Next are the royals demons — blue bloods

Then it goes to overlords — sinners

The Seven sins

And finally the 10 commandments oh and then you know the king.”

Adam stopped looking at some sinners killing each other over some burger. “And which rank are you?” I raised saw my driver pull up and hold the door open for him. He gave me a shit eating grin and got in. “A commandment, benevolence.” He looked around the limo and noticed how fancy it actually was. “Where are you taking me?” I looked out the window and didn’t respond. He’d find out soon enough. Though he quickly forgot his question as he started to complain about how Sera was making him see if it was possible ‘like there in hell for a reason’. I didn’t comment on how I was one of those sinners he hated so much. I didn’t really care. But one thing did catch my attention. The radio. It sounded just like Adam. I turned up the radio and sushed him.

“When the world has screws you and crushed you in it’s fist. When the way you’re treated has got you good and pissed.” I looked to Adam and noticed his cocky smile. Since when was his music broadcasted? “There’s been one solution since the world began. Don’t just sit and take it, stick it to the man.” Bloody hell, and it was catchy. “I thought you were the guitarist?” He was humming the song but stopped to answer me. “We switch up the singer every now and then, but usually it’s just one guy, Darcy.”

“Parents overwork ya? Stick it to the man!

Hate the way they jerk ya? Stick it to the man!

Tired of the system? Stick it to the man!

Rise up and resist them. Stick it to the man!”

I just nodded my head and listened to the song. But one question remained in my head, since when did they broadcast heaven music in hell? I didn’t ponder it too much longer though. When the song ended another song started on the radio. It wasn’t his however. It was from Verosika Mayday.

When we got out the car we were in my territory. We started to walk around town, heading to my mansion however I wanted to show him something before that. “Do you know what my commandment does?” He looked at me and silently shook his head. “When I activate my commandment anyone with hatred in there heart fall before he and lose their will to even stand.” I stopped and looked around. “After awhile I got used to only using on selective people. Such as now. I’m using it on my everyone around us besides you.” Then I turned my head to him, activating my commandment on him. Just as I suspected he started to fall to the ground. But hey he resisted impressively. “Now you, a angel has hate, but sinners don’t. Surely these people can be redeemed.” I deactivate my power on him and he stood up and cracked his neck.

“Never do that to me again.”

“Not use to being on you knees?”

“Oh darling, if you want me on my knees just ask.”

—

The doors of my estate opened and I finally let a sigh leave my body, I hate society. I turned to look at Adam and I made sure to pay close attention to him for my question. “Do everyone in heaven know about the extermination?” Slight movement in his jaw, that’s his tick. “Obviously.” Lies. This would be useful. “And after my demonstration today, what will you be telling Sera about redemption?”

He cracked his neck and let his wings out. “That not a single one should be alive.” Of course. Suddenly a portal opened. “That’s my que. Later babe.” He walked through and I didn’t bother giving him a goodbye.

[elemit]

A Gift, A Curse

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the spawn you loved.

Read in full on AO3

dead dove/not beta read

fic warnings: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Food Restriction, Hate Sex, Horror, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Total Power Exchange, Trauma, Vampire Bites

Chapter 20: Dawn

In taking your voice, Astarion has killed your last hope of getting out of here alive. That’s alright, you tell yourself. Alive doesn’t mean that much to you anyway anymore. You’re so trapped here that it hardly feels like living. You’re compelled to stay within the boundaries of the estate, and even then, you can only enter the grounds at night.

You can only enter the grounds at night.

So you do exactly that. You go into the grounds at night. You wander under the stars, remembering times on your travels when you looked up at the clear countryside sky with the man who became your husband and he wistfully spoke about how the celestial sphere never looked quite so beautiful from the city. You tell yourself the stories of the constellations, the myths of victories and tragedies from times gone by, and you feel a wondrous sense of peace in the knowledge that the epic narrative of the universe will continue onwards, even without you there to witness it.

You stay outside through the darkest hours, getting lost in the sounds of your fellow creatures of the night. Rustling leaves and whispering wings tell you tales of the lives of the unseen things that cling to their existence even in this estate of death. You sit with them until the pale blue of dawn starts to creep across the firmament. Slowly a pink tinge washes upwards from the east, and you go tense with the anticipation of the sun's first rays finally reaching you. You think it will feel like an embrace, even as you die.

It does not feel like an embrace.

It feels like burning.

Your eyes are blinded at the sight of the very first sliver of sun that rises over the horizon. The pain is too overwhelming to even remember to scream. If your eyes could still see, they would know that your pallid skin has started glowing, flaking, flashing like molten silver, ready to slough off your bones, to be loosed from your frame, to dissipate into the cold dawn air. There is only one word you can think of throughout the pain.

Free.

And then the pain stops. You think that your nerves must have melted away. You feel your very soul being lifted, carried in a pair of strong arms. You think this must be death's grasp; that you have found the final comfort that you had been so desperately seeking.

Then death speaks, and his voice makes you weep from eyes that still cannot see.

"Darling, what in the nine hells are you doing?"

You don't answer. You feel fast movement, somehow, even though your senses have been shaken to uselessness by the pain.  

"Are you trying to die?"

Again, you do not answer. You are too focused on mourning the escape that you had been so close to holding. You continue to weep, silently, like a wound.

He tuts. "My silly little treasure. No more wandering the grounds for you, I think. You are not to leave this house. Do you understand?"

You give the barest nod. Your vision is slowly coming back, and you see blurs of familiar corridors, a familiar door, a familiar bed.

"There's a good little pet. You will stay here until I return, and then you can show me how grateful you are to me for saving your life. Because you are grateful, aren't you?"

Gods, you hate him for it, but as soon as you hear the words, you are grateful. He speaks, and it becomes truth.

He goes to leave, but his hand lingers on the door handle.

"Oh, and darling? Don’t try anything like that again." His voice is light when he turns back to look at you. "If anyone's going to kill you, it will be me."

With that he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

[monstersdownthepath]

Lord of the First: Barbatos, the Bearded Lord

CR 26

Lawful Evil Medium Outsider

Pathfinder Bestiary 6, pg. 18~19

Beginning End of the World Month IV: The Tyrants of the Nine is my favorite of all the Archdevils, not only known as the Bearded Lord, but such whimsical titles as the Iron Hierophant, the Mistletoe Monk, the Wiseman of the Wilds, and many more! ... though, if one recalls, Barbatos is not a Devil at all. and in fact completely lacks the Devil subtype! This mysterious doorman merely showed up to Hell’s gates one day with a whole planet’s worth of souls and asked Asmodeus for a job, a job he’s held in the millennia since with--if the Complete Book of the Damned is to be believed--absolutely no oversight aside from whatever curious spying the other nobles of Hell may do. Whether he’s some alien god of nature’s most deplorable aspects, a forgotten breed of fiend, a Qlippoth Lord shedding the grasp of the Abyss entirely (this one’s my bet, and a safe one at that), or even a Great Old One is not known, and his goals beyond his guarding of Avernus, the first layer of Hell, may not exist.

Whatever he is and whatever he wants, Asmodeus trusts him, though this isn’t to say his peers do. None have actually tried anything against him, mind, not just because doing so would mean whoever usurped him would have to take the menial and grueling task of overseeing all the souls entering Hell, but because it’s awfully, awfully hard to sneak anything past him. Speaking his true name even once is immediately damning, as his Hear Name works across all forms of barriers and distance. Speaking it three times in a single breath, even with a myriad of words between each utterance, informs him unfailingly of your true name and location, at which point he can either use Astral Projection or Greater Scrying to see who’s calling, or manifest his power in any nearby animal or image of himself, possessing it and speaking through it. What he does with his power largely depends on who foolishly (or willingly) spoke of him, but know that he can use his spell-likes through these effigies, including Maze, Quickened Contagion, Blasphemy, and Gate.

Oh yes. If you want to bother the Lord of Avernus when he’s busy, he can Gate right to you, either to send a devil to deal with you... or to deal with you himself.

If you’re even a threat to him after he bullies you from a distance, mind. Barbatos’ fancy walking stick, Eyjatas, comes equipped with the ability to use Arcane Eye at will without any form of distance restriction provided he can somehow see the destination. Even if he’s using his Greater Scrying or Hear Name projection to spy, he can cast his eye through the effect to whatever world or even plane his target may be on. Commonly, those who disappoint or insult the Bearded Lord are struck with waves of crippling sickness and nausea that radiate outwards to everyone in the area, because Eyjatas can also use Eyebite at will through its Arcane Eyes. To those without a means to detect the invisible intrusion it may feel like invoking Barbatos’ true name invites nothing but mysterious illness and pain, or even worse if he then utilizes his other spell-likes to further punish transgressors who’ve gotten his attention via Hear Name. Contagion is an especially nasty and subtle way to punish an entire civilization for insulting him (or even just wasting his time).

Remember, however, that he can only use Eyebite when spying via Arcane Eye, and can only use one spell-like if he’s inhabiting an animal or image after using Hear Name. Utilizing his magic snaps the tenuous connection... though, oddly, it doesn’t prevent him from creating a Sphere of Souls at the location and leaving it there, free for anyone to use. Able to maintain upwards to 13 of these polished black crystal balls and destroy them with nothing but a thought, these are Barbatos’ primary tools for seeing just what the world beyond his station is like, each one able to not only scry, but read the minds of any creature (and nearby creature) being scried upon.

But with the power to use Greater Scrying at will himself, what use does he have for such a tool? To keep track of whatever his lackeys and supplicants are doing. Barbatos can not only freely see through the Spheres of Souls whenever they’re being used, but can see whatever they’re being used to watch. These crystals are the ultimate tools of espionage in both directions, allowing Barbatos to spy on the user and their target at the same time... and freely alter whatever the user is seeing, manipulating the visions shown by the ball into whatever the Archdevil decides furthers his own alien machinations.

But that’s not even the end of the power these Spheres have! Barbatos gets an automatic 13 hour Status spell on any creatures the Spheres scry on to keep tabs on who his lackies have their eyes on. In addition, Barbatos can freely scry and read the minds of ANY creature within 10ft of a Sphere, without giving ANY of those creatures a saving throw. This assures his Spheres are used only in ways he approves, with false visions and misleading information pouring out of them if the user (or any of their nearby allies) don’t do exactly as the Mistletoe Monk desires. In especially egregious cases of disrespect, he can either seize control of the user as if using Dominate Person, or simply cause the Sphere to collapse into nothingness.

And, yes, if you’re wondering: The fact that the Spheres of Souls have a significant amount of magic in place to let Barbatos spy on and even take control of the users rather than those being observed means that he’s very, very keen on giving these little trinkets out as gifts to his enemies, either directly or by leaving them in a treasure hoard he expects them to come across. Once they have one, its power is likely hypnotic enough to have them keep it close by, giving Barbatos free reign to keep an eye on them. Is it any wonder why he’s so damn hard to sneak up on? Combat’s likely not even going to begin with him, as he’s already planned around your arrival. Even if it does, though, he’s no slouch.

Barbatos has a jaw-dropping eight attacks with his weapon of choice, the +4 Speed Unholy Quarterstaff and Major Artifact Eyjatas. Each attack deals only 1d6+19 damage (+2d6 vs Good targets), sub-par for a creature of such high level, but remember he can dole out eight of them, each of them threatening a potential critical hit on a 19 or 20. The least amount of damage Barbatos can do, provided each of his attacks hits, is 160, which is actually pretty decent. That’s typically enough to put even a level 20 Fighter halfway down, but Barbatos likely won’t waste his time trying to kill off the Fighter if more vulnerable targets are nearby. Rather, he’d wait for one of his attacks to be a critical hit to take advantage of Eyjatas’ hunger for eyes.

Eyjatas can pluck the eyes from the heads of any creature it successfully strikes in combat, blinding them and afflicting them with 2d6 bleed damage, but it can only use this power 3/day and it’s negated by a DC 30 Fortitude save... Unless the attack was a confirmed critical hit, which prevents the target from making a save against having their eyes torn out. Eight tries a round means he will get it eventually, but weirdly enough this isn’t his only method of stealing eyes: his tentacular Barbed Beard can also be used as a natural attack, inflicting 1d8+5 damage, 2d6 bleed damage, and infecting victims with an especially tenacious strain of Blinding Sickness that resists magical attempts to cure it unless the caster can overcome the Wiseman’s 37 Spell Resistance first.

Note that while he’s not the most physically imposing of the Archdevils, it’s likely that you’ll be fighting him at reduced party capacity. Between Maze 3/day to unavoidably shunt a target out of reality and Banishment to remove celestial assistance you’ve likely already lost two or three of the party, possibly for several minutes. And unfortunately for any fragile caster he’s just caught in a 1v1, escape is nigh impossible unless they can regularly succeed DC 35 Fortitude saves. Barbatos’ Counterport alerts him to any and all Calling, Summoning, and Teleportation effects happening within 30ft of him and allows him to either shut them off entirely, or choose to poof them at a point of his choice within that 30ft bubble. Any affected creature takes 10d6 damage as an extra kick in the teeth, but that big Fortitude save I mentioned halves the damage and allows the creature to come and go as they please.

Sadly, Counterport also allows Barbatos to reach through the portal, comically grab the caster by the scruff of their neck and pull them back. Failing a DC 35 Will save allows the Mistletoe Monk to undo any Calling, Summoning, and/or Teleportation effect whose origin point he manages to get to within one round, either sending someone on their way or dragging everyone who just tried to leave back into the fire, again dealing 10d6 damage to them.

Imagine struggling to escape Hell only to have all your efforts undone less than three seconds later. Imagine trying to get into Hell and being slapped straight back to your home plane with half the health you left with. These are moments Barbatos is causing every single day, sternly watching the comings and goings of the devils and the damned in their ‘care,’ keeping a trifecta of careful eyes on the procession to assure not a single one can ever escape.

He may be the weakest of the Archdevils, but his strengths lay not in martial or even magical might, but sheer, staggering foresight, knowledge, and wisdom. Between his endless spies, his information network created by his Spheres of Souls, and his own alien knowledge, there are few things happening on any plane that he isn’t at least dimly aware of... and preparing for.

You can read more about him here.

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: Ivania and Vorno

Darklords: Ivania and Vorno Domain: Sunderheart Domain Formation: Unknown Power Level: 💀💀💀 ⚫⚫ (3/5 Skulls) Source: Dragon Magazine 368 article: “Domains of Dread: Sunderheart, The Funeral City”

The Domain of Sunderheart, not to be confused with Casimir Lukas’s moniker “Sundered Heart”, was formed by our tormentors after the events that lead to the end of Ivania Dreygu and Vorno Kahnebor’s love affair. Before they were claimed by the Mists, Ivania and Vorno lived within the Bael Turath Empire. As Bael Turath was falling from its former greatness, The Emperor and the noble families that served him sealed a pact with the Nine Hells to ensure the Empire thrived. To fulfill their bargain, they performed a month long ritual known as the Bloodfire Moon Ritual and in doing so the noble families found themselves transformed into Tieflings and forever marked by their dealings with the Nine Hells.

The noble families of Dreygu and Kahnebor were at odds with each other for as far back as any could remember. When Ivania and Vorno became lovers, the two noble houses found common ground in their attempts to separate the pair. The Dreygus referred to Ivania as a ‘troubled girl’ and the Kahnebor spent more than enough gold and time covering up Vorno’s less than savory pleasures, such as the consumption of human flesh. The families agreed that the havoc the pair could cause together would destroy both households.

The noble houses forcefully separated the couple, but this only encouraged them. Vorno escaped, slaughtering many of his own family and rescued Ivania from her own household. The two ran away together, seemingly content to spent out the rest of their days in poverty. This is the tale the bards tell, yet there is ample evidence that they were not content with such a lifestyle and brought about the deaths of all their living relatives without being provoked into doing so. The bards, with their natural inclination towards romance, would have us believe otherwise.

Ivania and Vorno became the last living descendants of the Noble houses of Dreygu and Kahnebor, respectively and after the convenient drowning of the City of Harrak Unarth’s major, the two petitioned to the Emperor to rule it. The Emperor granted their request and the two ran the city as if it were a never ending party of pleasure and debauchery that put Ivan Dillisnya’s gatherings to shame and made my brother Ranald look like a competent ruler.

Harrak Unarth became known as the City of Carnival and these endless festivals attracted exotic goods and riches from throughout the empire. This, in turn, drew the attention of the Emperor who wished to secure his rule over the land by forming an infernal pact and believed the pair were best suited to assist him. I am inclined to believe that this Emperor must have been rather weak to resort to such bargaining to maintain his hold over his people.

When the Emperor came to Ivania and Vorno, they readily agreed to summon of a fiend to secure his pact for they wished to form their own bargain. The Emperor made his bargain as Ivania and Vorno made their own with the chain devil, Nephigor. The couple traded their souls for eternal youth and to stay by the other’s side forever.  If my eyes were capable of such physics, I would be rolling them right now.

Codependent relationships rarely survive and it is no surprise that as the years passed, the star-crossed lovers grew apart. Vorno was prone to deep melancholic episodes and became increasingly paranoid for he knew that in time he would die and face eternal punishment in the Nine Hells. Which, of course, he would…seeing as he made that bargain himself.

Ivania, on the other hand, continued to enjoy her life of pointless pleasure parties. She grew tired of her spouse lurking in the shadows and refusing to join in her revelry. So, to rid herself of Vorno and damn him to the Nine Hells, she brought the most beautiful woman in all of Harrak Unarth to their home and lured her into a state of narcotic stupor, then left her for Vorno to find. Vorno, unable to resist his lust for human flesh, consumed the girl. Ivania had, of course, laced the woman with poisons, so upon consuming her, Vorno died.

At the moment Vorno saw in his lover’s eyes that not only did she plan his demise but ensured his eternal damnation, a maelstrom of shadow and ice descended upon the Harrak Unarth. People fled as the City of Carnival was transformed into the City of Curses. Once the storm lifted, no one remained. Not  even a single corpse marked the ground where thousands once dwelt. Any who fled found themselves and their families forever cursed and those who entered the abandoned city and stole from it, became cursed as well. In time, enough stories were told that all but the bravest or most foolish individuals avoided the once great city of Harrak Unarth.

As Harrak Unarth fell, Ivania was claimed by the Mists. She found herself in an unfamiliar palace and as she wondered aloud, “Where am I?” the voice that answered was Vorno’s.

“Sunder…heart,” he said and has yet to speak another word since. Ivania, frightened of her the voice of the lover she had slain, tried to find him…and eventually discovered, upon looking into a mirror, that his undead corpse was fused to her back. They had, after all, bargained their very souls to remain youthful and together forever. It’s best to be as specific as possible when making such deals…Trust me, I should know…

Sunderheart or the Funeral City is ruled by Ivania during the day and Vorno, who is only known as The Ghoul to all but a few individuals, rules during the night. Ivania does all she can to ignore the literal corpse growing out of her body by pretending he does not exist. Not only does she surround herself with beauty and continuous parties, but she has also outlawed mirrors that cannot be held in one’s hand and ordered all windows to be made of stained glass so she never has to look upon him again. Anyone who points out her obvious companion its met with her extreme displeasure and often star in her ‘entertainment’ for the day.

The living go about their daily business while Ivania rules, trying their best to avoid their mistress’s wraith. At night, they hide in their homes as the undead flood out of the sewers and waterways, taking over the city as the Ghoul rules. Only on the night of a New Moon does this change. On those nights, the living of Sunderheart flood the streets with light, hide beneath hideous masks, and honor the dead. Much like the Festival of the Dead in my own Domain…

The two former lovers mostly ignore the other’s existence, feigning sleep while the other is awake, yet the each experience everything the other does. This, of course, makes defeating them rather difficult as Ivania brings in her cunning and shadow magic whereas Vorno brings in his brute strength and undying hunger. There are tales of a lich that inhabits a tall tower in the Funeral City who could defeat this Darklord should he be so inclined, but, for the time being, he is simply entertained by watching Ivania suffer.

[walkingshcdow]

@alittlefirebirdtoldme

"I've never been more furious with a man in my life Percy Brightstar than I am with your brother and his willingness to rob me of what little fucking agency I have in this damned world, and that is saying something, let me assure you. I truly do not think, it can be fathomed how enraged I am." Keres was seething, stalking back and forth behind the door in her wedding dress. How cruel was fate? She'd lived this long, managed to tamp scandal this many times only for it all to end with her reputation in ribbons right as she was on the cusp of respectability. She flung the door open, blind to the world around her and still raving. "If I marry my fiance, assuming he would even have me back after a scandal like this, people will wonder forever if there was any credibility to Andrew's claims, or why our marriage was never consummated, and what I've possibly done to make that so utterly unappealing. If I were to go home with you, I'll be labeled as an idiot, an attempted bigamist, and whore. Again. It only feeds the rumors that have been flying about us for years that I've been doing my best to dispel. I can't join a religious order, not that I even wanted to, because the stigma of my possibly having been defiled is incredibly public, which also means I'll never be able to work as a governess or in a school again since I'll be seen as a dubious role model. Nine Hells- he's even robbed me of the option of a respectable death! At least a woman with nowhere to go and nothing left might be able to die in peace but if I pass away, it'll only cement those ideas! The only real option I have is to move back into this fucking house and live the rest of my life as a spinster at the mercy of the Whitlocks until they decide they no longer want to support me and I find myself locked away and lobotomized for female hysteria so I can be conveniently forgotten about."

She wanted to scream until her lungs gave out. To run. To... she wanted to go home and never see another living soul.

Keres finally started to calm down enough to notice Percy and sighed, shaking her head at his broken nose. She reached up to place her fingers on it gently and mumbled the words for a healing spell, only for it to fizzle out in her hands instead of sending warmth through her hands even as she tried it a second time and then a third. Fuck. Why not.

"You can't go on getting your nose broken on Andrew's behalf. It'll never heal."

He could only really listen to her fury. Pressing his tongue to the back of his bottom teeth, he refrained from speaking or grinding his teeth. She was right. If she married her fiance, people would always wonder, just a little, about the scandal. ‘Sides. Her fiance was a bastard. She’d be better off without him. Of course, Percy was biased. What if they confirmed people’s wildest speculations? He’d work damned hard to make her the happiest woman on the continent. ‘Course people would wonder. And then there was teachin’ and religious orders and... Well, even suicide wasn’t an option, thank the gods.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he said, gently grasping her wrist. “You’ve got enough on your mind. Clearly.”

He paused. 

“Is comin’ home really outta the question? I’m sure we could spin ‘em a story that absolves you. I mean, we can just blame my ignorance of human culture or somethin’ like. Or, even better, blame Andrew.”

[aryawrites]

random lyrics from songs in my playlists as prompts (pt. 1) triggering topics are present. “I'm not afraid of God.” “I am afraid of man.” “I thought that love was a kind of emptiness.” “I thought that love was in the drugs.” “You don't have to be afraid.” “Remember what it is to feel.” “I've been through hell, I think I'm somewhere in-between.” “Throw me in the damn flame.” “Me and death keep tongue kissing.” “I think something's fucking wrong with me.” “I don't wanna know what it's like without you.” “Don't leave.” “I know that you love me.” “Dreams last so long, even after you're gone.” “You're breaking my heart.” “I will show you the way back home.” “Don’t believe all the lies that you’ve been told.” “I’ll show you how to live again.” “She is the sunlight.” “I'm only human.” “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” “Forget what we're told.” “I don't want to run.” “He's everything you want.” “You're waiting for someone to push you away.” “There's always something more you wish he'd say.” “Tell me all the secrets you've been hiding.” “Blow some smoke up to the gods.” “Lived nine lives, so I guess I got nine left.” “I wear this cross so God can find me if my soul gets lost.” “Everybody hates, but can anybody love me?” “One drink, one pill, one hit, one line.” “I don't need the world, maybe I just need you.” “You're too good for me, I'm too bad to keep.” “I get insecure and panic 'cause I know you're too pure for this.” “It's the God that heroin prays to.” “I feel like a person for a moment of my life.” “But you don't know what hell you put me through.” “I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin.” “Just a little rush, babe.” “You think the problem is me.” “I say it's time for the truth.” “What am I supposed to do?” “I found the truth about you babe, and it was heavy.” “I just heard some shit that affected me.” “You say it won't happen again.” “I love her still.” “She loves you.” “But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside.”