#; my demons are begging me to open up my mouth || v; a world at war

[ludencore]

TAG DUMP || RYAN CARTER

[hazbinextgeneration]

Hazbin Worlds Collide Ch29

(Mako, Tristan, Francis, and Velvet belongs to Palettepainter)

The more the moth stared and waited the more uneasy Francis felt in this situation. He opened his mouth..but shortly closed it afterwards. He wasn't sure how to actually answer this without sounding awkward. Hannibal leaned back and reached up to rub his head.

"Uh-....If y-you don't want to talk about it, I-it's ok. I understand. You don't have to tell me."

"N-No, I d-did agree to it..." Another awkward silence passed as the two sat there waiting for Francis to speak up.The small fawn casted his head down to avoid eye contact before gulping. "...I.I...M-M-My birthday came e-early? Like...really early"

Silence. There it was. Finally out in the open. He was expecting some kind of reaction but all that came was an "Oh....My sister was one too."

What?

He looked back up, blinking at the moth in front in him before asking in a confused tone. "W-What?"

"Maizy was a runt...Or at least that's what Queeny said." His antenna twitched in thought before he looked back to Francis. "She said she was small....My family has some issues."

"Oh."

Another awkward silence filled the room as the two sat there at the table. That is before Hannibal looked back to his and asked something.

"What's it like having a mom?"

He looked up at him in confusion. "Uh...W-What?"

"What's it like to have a mom?" Hannibal leaned on the table and held his head in his hand. "It must be nice having family like your sister."

Francis tilted his head a little at the strange question. "Don't you have a family? I mean you have like-" He stared up as if calculating something in his head. "...Four siblings and Ms. Vaggie and Da-....Uh-...M-Mr. Alastor?" He gulped mentioning the name.

Hannibal shrugged. " Queeny's been trying to get me to like them, but ....I don't think anyone but her actually care of me. I mean, she too care of me since she was six-"

"Six?! But she-....

"How old did you think she was?"

"I...N-never mind." Francis drummed his fingers against the table. "M-my..family is fine. I love my mom a lot. S-She's really caring." Internally he was begging Hannibal wouldn't ask about the other parent.

"Oh. That sounds....really nice.....Hey. Do you think Maizy would want the food now?"

Thank you whoever deity was listening! He sighed in relief- Wait. Maizy? He suddenly became a bit more nervous as he figited a bit.

"Uh..Actually, I think I'm tired. I wanna g-go to bed..."

"Oh..ok. I guess I can get Velvet for you. If you want?"

"I-Isn't she busy?"

"I'm pretty sure it's calmed down." Hannibal turned his head towards the direction of the bar. "I don't hear anything anymore."

There was silence. The two boys stared out the doorway towards the direction of the bar area, and waited but no other sound came from the previously chattering tense area. The two boys gave each other a look, before Hannibal slowly stood up and excused himself from the table, and slowly making his way over to the doorway. Francis watched as the moth stuck his head out the door and peeked out towards the group of demons alike. Which, to his surprise, no one was trying to tear themselves in half. Instead, what he saw was.....Maizy shaking the scary looking wolf's hand...

Said wolf was giving a look of what Hannibal could only describe as uncertainty, as the deer shook his paw. A disgruntled looking Wild-Card stood right behind her glaring daggers at the wolf, like he'd explode any minute. Angel-Cake looked pretty happy with whatever was going on at least.

"Hannibal-"

"HAH!" The moth let out a high pitched squeak and flinched back hard from the invader of his privacy. The other moth held up his hands as if not to intimidate the little one, "T-Tristan....D-Don't do that!"

His little squeal caught the attention of most everyone else in the room and someone chuckled followed by a small smack noise. Presumably to shut them up. Tristan bent down to be somewhat eye level with Hanny a face full of concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I-...Uh-...F-F-Francis wanted V-Velvet?" All the strangers' eyes on him was a uncomfortable feeling he didn't want to address and would rather not speak of. He heard Francis mumble something like 'I didn't really say that' behind him, but his main focus was on the crowd of strangers in the corner. A girl who looked a few years younger than Queeny stood up from next to an orange-blonde cat with wings and gave a look towards their direction. He guessed this must've been the Velvet Francis addressed earlier. She certainly looked like Alastor's child.

"Is he ok?," was her first question. To which he nodded at.

Without another word, the doe excused herself from the table of friends and made her way towards the kitchen area. She casted a curious glance at the small moth before exiting behind them. His wings came around to wrap around himself. Hopefully that was all over with.

"Hey...Is somethin' burning?" The wolf from before leaned out and sniffed the air a couple times before giving a snort. "And....has too much pepper?"

"Oh..That's lunch.....I-I hope you like it. Queeny taught me it."

He gave Hannibal a look as the moth gave an attempt at a smile. "Uh....yeah. It uh...smells sauce-y??"

Hell. He didn't know what to say now. Heaven knows he wasn't good with compliments. Like at all. Luckily Angel-Cake seemed to recognize this and pipe up.

"What he means is that it'll be delicious! Don't you worry about anything."

The young moth became a little more at ease, before Tristan said something to him and herded the little one back into the kitchen away from everyone's prying eyes. The wolf blinked before looking at his spider companion.

"That little bug's related to the crazy lady?"

Angel-Cake shrugged. "Yeah. And me. And Maize and Chesh over there." She nodded towards the rest of the people watching. "Just don't insult her too much in front of him. He looks up to her a lot. Oh. And uh. Just give your plate of lunch to Cedar when he's not looking. That animal will eat anything."

Mako blinked, but didn't question it further. He was lucky things didn't escalate when Maizy entered the room, as if nothing ever happened to her. But instead the crazy old gal came strutting up to him and thanked him of all things. He will admit he was caught off guard, but the disbelief faces Prince boy and Chesire gave off were too funny to ignore. But hey. It was better not to press the matter any more now that he's gotten off without a hitch. Speaking of which. All this forgiving stuff is making him thirsty. He reached behind him to grab the bottle of liqor Husk had left out for him and brought it to his mouth. Savoring the sweet but bitter smell of ferimented grapes and.....burnt spaghetti noodles with meat, sauce, and too much pepper?? What? He snorted and turned around to where practically everyone else was stari-

"...oh, no..."

He gave a questioning look over to notice old Prince Boy was going pale by the second then over to where he was looking at. Little Hannibal was back but this time holding a metal pan with thin tails of smoke leaking from it. He stood there with an uncertain look and Tristan patted his back encouragly while looking like he wasn't trying to puke or make a face that could upset the nervous boy.

"U-Um....A-Are you hungry?.."

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Compliments Them Aggresively

Warnings: A generally thirsty MC, Beel’s react has a brief mention of choking.

Lucifer

It was rare that Lucifer had time off during the afternoon and you were fully taking advantage of it. 

Holding hands, you were taking a leisurely stroll around the garden. Every few minutes you stopped to point out a flower or a bug that had caught your eye.

“Ooh Luci, look at this one! It looks like a rainbow! Oh my god, it’s so shiny, I love it!”

You heard Lucifer chuckling at you and turned to ask what was so funny when you stood still in shock at the sight before you. The glow of the afternoon sun illuminated Lucifer beautifully, his black hair almost glowing, his face open and happy, smiling at you. He looked absolutely radiant. And you were going to tell him as much.

“Oh my god Lucifer, what is wrong with you?”

Lucifer’s smile dimmed immediately and his eyes narrowed. “Love, whatever do you mean?” His voice was careful and tense.

“I mean, it is illegal for you to look that good! Oh my god! Do you see you? You look like a greek god like what in the actual world!”

Lucifer’s mouth opened in surprise at your sudden outburst.

“How are you even my boyfriend? Like you’re literally glowing Luci. Oh my god my eyes, you’re too bright I can’t even look at you!”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times as if to clear his head. Slowly a satisfied smirk replaced his confused look and he moved to press a kiss against the back of your hand.

“Love, what on earth has gotten into you today?”

“What, I’m not allowed to compliment my boyfriend?”

“Of course you are, although I’d prefer it if the compliments were given in a more... private place next time.”

“...Fine.”

Mammon

Mammon had apparently made some money in one of his schemes and he practically dragged you to Majolish one morning to go shopping.

Once in the store Mammon had sped off in a flurry of activity, adding clothes to an ever-growing pile before herding you toward the dressing room. 

"Wait for me outside, okay? Ya gotta tell me how each outfit looks.”

A few minutes later, Mammon stepped out in a pair of dark jeans that hugged his toned legs and a black v-neck sweater that showed off his collarbone. A thin gold chain adorned his neck and the look was completed with a pair of combat boots.

“Well, whattaya think?”

“Mammon. What the hell.”

Mammon’s shoulders drooped a little. “Not good?”

“Mammon. You look so hot. So fucking hot. Like. A supermodel? An icon? You’re stunning!”

He was beginning to blush and you could see how pleased your compliments made him. “O-Of course you think I’m hot! I’m the Great Mammon! I always look good in whatever I wear.”

He expected you to stop at that point and chide him to be more humble but was surprised when you amped up the compliments.

“You do babe, you really do. Look at how long your legs are! And your arms, oh my god. And your chest, wow, I kinda want to lick your chest right now.”

“MC!” Shocked and a little embarrassed, Mammon fled to the inside of the dressing room, swishing the curtain shut behind him. He could feel his cheeks burning. 

“Sorry Mams, I’ll stop if you want me to. But I meant every word.”

“...Please don’t stop.”

Leviathan

You were in his room, cuddled on some cushions, watching a new anime together. 

Your head on Levi’s shoulder, you were so comfortable that you were close to drifting off to sleep, until Levi nudged your shoulder. “Sorry, I have to go feed Henry.”

You watched Levi sprinkle food into the large tank, his face illuminated by the soft glow. The bubbles and movement from the tank created dancing patterns on his face. As Levi watched Henry eat, he smiled a soft, private smile, and in that moment he looked ethereal.

“Levi, you’re so beautiful.”

Levi’s head whipped around to look at you. “W-What are you talking about?”

You got up and moved closer until you were inches from his face, studying his features. “I’m serious Levi, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Devastatingly handsome. I could honestly stare at you all day. You are so so beautiful.”

With each compliment, Levi’s mouth grew a little bit wider until he was gaping at you.

“I-Is this some kind of joke? Are you making fun of me right now? Why would you- You know how I feel about-”

“Levi, please. Have a little more faith in me. You know I’d never make fun of you. I’m being completely serious right now when I say that you’re incredibly beautiful.”

Levi thinks his brain might have stopped working.

His face is burning, his body is all tingly, and he can’t get any words out?

“Levi? Come back to me, Levi! Hello?” You’re waving your hand in front of his face but you think he might be broken.

You take his hand and slowly lead him back toward the cushions for kisses and more cuddling. 

Satan

Reading with Satan was one of your favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

You sat in opposite armchairs and let the comfortable silence fill the room. The only disturbance would be if either of you wanted to share a line or passage from the book you were reading.

Legs curled against your chest, you watched the flame of the candles make flickering shadows against Satan’s bookshelves.

He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see his outstretched hand holding his book.

“Love, look at this line.”

You read in amusement as the hero of the story made a witty joke. "That was a good one-"

You turned and saw Satan, his eyes crinkled in laughter, a light blush dusting his cheeks, his lips bitten in an attempt to hold in a giggle.

"Satan... you're so fucking cute."

Immediately one of his eyebrows cocked in confusion. "What-"

"You are so adorable, wow. I want to squish your cheeks and like keep you inside my pocket or something."

"Love, I am the Avatar of Wrath. I am not... cute."

"Yeah? Well I beg to differ. I call it like I see it and right now, I can see that you are the cutest being I've ever seen in my life. The way your eyes light up and you get all blushy. So adorable, I can't stand it."

Satan seemed to be stunned by your exclamation, his features frozen in a mixture of confusion and shock.

You walked over to him and began pressing kisses against his eyelids, on his cheeks, nose, and then finally, lips. "I'm gonna keep kissing you because you're so cute, okay?"

He ended up tugging you against his chest and holding you in a princess-carry, trying to bury his face in your hair so you couldn't see how flustered he was.

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo's room helping him pick an outfit. Well, more like you were scrolling through your D.D.D. while Asmo went through his entire closet complaining about how he had nothing to wear.

He had some sort of big business meeting coming up with a perfume company who wanted his help in designing their new line of products.

Every outfit so far had been beautiful and Asmo looked amazing in each one, as always. You weren't sure how to help him.

"MC, this next outfit is a little different. It's not really my style but it was a gift from the designer so tell me what you think, okay?"

Asmo swished aside the curtain of his dressing room and walked out in a formal black business suit. The shirt was open at the throat, exposing his delicate neck, and he had added a pink pocket square. A large silver watch shone on his left wrist. His shiny black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked toward you.

"So, what do you think?"

"Asmo... If I'm being honest I kind of want you to pin me against the wall right now."

"Darling! You're usually never this forward."

You stood up and twirled him around. "My god Asmo, you look incredible. You look so sexy and professional. Like a rich CEO or something. Scratch the wall thing, I kinda need you to bend me over your desk."

Asmo had never been more surprised by you, but his shock didn’t last long.

"Do you really like it, MC? Do you like when I wear this sort of thing? I should wear suits more often if it means you talking like that. I love this side of you darling!"

He began stalking toward you until your back was gently pressed against the wall, his arms making a kind of cage around you. “Is this what you pictured, MC?” He began kissing you fiercely and you grabbed onto the lapel of his jacket to keep yourself steady. 

“Asmo?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Don’t go to the meeting today.”

Beelzebub

You were in the gym with Beel. He was lifting weights and you were bouncing on a medicine ball next to him.

Even though you didn’t exercise at all, Beel said he liked you being there with him. And since it was such a hot day outside, you didn’t mind spending the afternoon in the cool air-conditioned building.

But despite the chill of the room, Beel’s shirt was soaked with sweat. He was lifting enormous weights and you could see the muscles of his arms straining with the effort. 

Beel was, well, absolutely ripped. His arms, legs, and stomach all looked like they had been carved from marble. And you spent enough time cuddling with him to know that his body felt exactly like it looked, solid and incredibly strong.

People who didn’t know Beel personally would have found it hard to believe that the demon with an eight-pack had the personality of a hungry golden retriever.

A grunt from Beel startled you out of your thoughts and you realized you had been staring at him this whole time. Uncomfortable at the way his shirt was sticking to his body from sweat, Beel peeled it off of himself.

“Beel?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re killing me here.”

He looked at you in confusion, worried he had done something. “MC, what’s wrong?”

“Beel, do you even see yourself right now? You literally look like sex on legs. How are you even real? I want to touch you all over. But I also kind of want you to choke me.”

“MC!” Beel cried out in surprise and you could see his neck was flushed. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“I know big guy, I trust you.” You let out a low whistle and reveled in how Beel looked, a combination of pleased and a bit embarrassed. “Beel, you’re so perfect. You look like you could protect me from the world.”

“I would you know,” he whispered. “I want to protect you, I don’t want anything or anyone to hurt you.”

You smiled at him. “I know Beel, and I love you for it.” You let the silence hang in the air for a moment. “But also, can I lick your abs?”

“MC!”

Belphegor

It was a rare occasion that you and Belphie were outside, as you both usually preferred to stay in.

You had both woken up late and decided to stop by a local cafe for some lunch because you were too lazy to cook. 

Belphie sat across from you at the small table and sipped his tea delicately while you polished off the rest of your sandwich. You had one of your ankles hooked around his.

He was looking out the window, his face turned toward the side, and you used the opportunity to study his features.

Long black eyelashes framed his piercing purple eyes. His silky dark hair stood out against his pale complexion and your eyes traced the high bridge of his nose, the softness of his lips.

As if feeling your stare Belphie turned toward you with a smirk. “Something I can help you with?”

“Belphie... you’re really pretty.” 

You could see that you had surprised him a little with your honesty. “You’re so pretty, Belphie. I know a lot of people would kill to have eyelashes as long as yours. And your mouth looks so kissable. You kind of look like a doll. You’re honestly so gorgeous.”

His face was completely blank for a moment then morphed into a calculating stare. “Are... are you being serious right now?” His gaze suddenly turned cold.

“Why would I joke about something like this? I’m telling you right now that think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful.”

Belphie's voice betrayed no emotion. “Nobody’s ever called me pretty before. Or beautiful.”

“Oh, Belphie.” You took his hand from across the table and pressed a kiss against his palm and then the inside of his wrist, the way he did to you all the time. “I’ll repeat it everyday for the rest of my life if you want.”

He scrunched up his nose and whispered, “Don’t. You’re being embarrassing.” But you could tell he didn’t really mean it by the way the corners of his lips quirked up.

He was mostly silent for the rest of lunch, apparently deep in thought, only nodding occasionally at your comments.

When it was time to leave, however, he reached to hold your hand and didn’t let go the entire way home.

[fraidy-farfelle]

This is my attempt at the Fluff ABCs for Frankie the Undead. Please be gentle with criticism because I cry easily. I’ve taken some ideas from @lovestruck-lasagna.

Taglist: @writingfromthetomb @beebubb

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your dry sense of humor. It perfectly matches his insults and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to make you laugh. He just says what he’s thinking and you laugh and agree.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Frankie appreciates a good smile, and for many reasons. He learned to read smiles (fake vs real) early on and uses it to gauge people, so he pays particular attention by default. He’s a sucker for cute dimples, and loves the way your nose scrunches and your eyes close.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves late at night when you share the couch and he can read a good book, sip on some whiskey, or puff on a cigar. He really doesn’t care what you’re doing, he can tune out the TV or you prattling on about your day and make comments to show he’s listening. Put your feet in his lap, lay on top of him, make yourselves mummies in blankets, so long as he can reach his glass he doesn’t care. He just wants to be with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Stay in date nights are his favorite. He doesn’t really like to “share” your attention. He likes to either cook a meal together or order takeout and watch a movie. Particularly black and white gangster ones, or older horror films. Likes to tease you if you get scared and grab onto him. He’ll pat your head and say something like “oh there there, don’t be scared! I won’t let the big, bad monster getcha!” (Like your neighbor isn’t a 7 ft tall children murdering clown demon) If you go out, he prefers less crowded places outdoors.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s a spitfire and he knows it. He tends to explode and then after a few minutes apologizes gruffly and explains himself. “WHY WERE YA OUT UNTIL MIDNIGHT, THATS SUCH A STUPID THING TO DO!” “Sorry, Frankie.” “…… ugh just, please get home earlier from now on. It’s dangerous and I worry about you.” Definitely doesn’t hug you close so you don’t see the relief and worry on his face. Nope!

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He misses Amy desperately. He wants a little girl in his life again, although he’ll never ever admit it. He’s hesitant to make relationships because he doesn’t want to be hurt again. But, if you go out with him to the living world, you’ll catch him staring longingly at parents and daughters when he thinks you’re not looking. If you ask him what he’s looking at, he’ll shake his head and spit out a line about children being obnoxious but you can tell he’s blowing smoke.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

If the underworld wasn’t so dangerous, he’d love to drape you in the finest silks with diamonds and rubies dripping off of you. However he doesn’t want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. So, he settles for things you don’t really see in public. He also doesn’t like to be found out about it. Your gas tank is filled, the bill you were worried about has mysteriously been paid, your favorite ice cream is in your freezer when you know you ate the last of it yesterday, and hey, didn’t you spend this $20? Why is it in your wallet? If you ever bring it up he’ll just shrug and say “How strange!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He’s torn about PDA because he doesn’t want you to become a target because you’re associated with him, and people stare at him enough because of his appearance. But on the other hand, he wants to show the world that someone as worthless as him (don’t say that we love you Frankie) has such an amazing person that loves him. Will absolutely grab you and passionately make out with you with one hand on your ass and the other flipping the bird to the cheeky bastard that told the broad beside him to watch out for the zombie.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. Sheer panic. He’s so afraid to lose you, any injury is serious and cause for alarm.

Frankie:*bursting into a hospital lobby, screaming to be taken to f/n l/n immediately**running in the opposite direction the nurse pointed in panic**bursts into exam room 30 seconds later* “Y/N!!!!! I came as soon as I got the message, WHATS WRONG!!!”

You: *sitting on the table, reading phone* “Oh, I have a sprained ankle and they don’t want me to drive so can you give me a ride?”

Frankie:*slowly blinking* “Uh, yeah no problem…”

You: “lemme guess, you heard my name and hospital in the same sentence and ignored everything else.”

Frankie:*hanging his head* “go wait in the car, I’ll go apologize….”

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Not actual jokes, but he loves to sit with you and insult people. He’s an incredibly sweet person to you, but no one else. (Except service people, like nurses and waitresses. Just the general public) he doesn’t think pranks are funny or practical, which is one of the many reasons he and LJ butt heads. If LJ or Will prank you or him, he’s raising hell.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Love kissing your lips. He’s actually really self conscious about his mouth stitches and constantly frets they feel weird to you. Neck kisses are another favorite and are extremely private to him. He also likes to hold the back of your hand against his lips and tell you what he’s thinking, no matter how mundane. Kiss his stitches. Please. Just do it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has trouble saying it to your face. He’ll whisper it to you when he thinks you’re sleeping, and he’s been known to leave little notes around for you to find. He thinks protecting you is the best way to show he cares.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you finally broke down and told him you loved him. He knew as soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your smile his goose was cooked. He was very abrasive and hoping against hope that you’d leave him be. He knew you deserved better. He was so afraid to build a relationship and love again, he wanted to distance himself and if he was an asshole to you, it would be justified and you’d do it on your own. What he didn’t expect is for you to be so kind to him. Upon your initial meeting, he had been a little harsh, but helped you (if there’s enough interest I’ll do a fic about it) and so when he subsequently was a jerk to you, you were curious and determined to find out what he was hiding. He finally had been mean enough to make you cry. He had never regretted something he did before. He immediately wanted to cradle you to him and beg your forgiveness. Normally when he insulted you, you’d have a snarky retort in reply. But not this time. You fell to your knees and clung to his legs and demanded to know why he treated you so poorly and proclaimed your love for him. It was probably by accident and you were so distraught you didn’t even know it flew from your mouth, but hearing it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you. Hearing that you loved someone like him made him so happy, he knew he’d treasure the memory forever

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. Period.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

What ISNT odd about this man?! A cute one is he always winks with his green eye.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I HC that he was born in the 30’s, so he calls you “doll” a lot but only in private. He uses your name otherwise so it’s not as obvious to people watching you’re together. He will absolutely refer to you as “the dame” to others. The equivalent of “the boss” or “old lady.” “William! The Dame is trying to take a nap, so shut up or I’ll shoot you!” You call him stitches to tease him in private and are the only person allowed to do so.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Either taking naps or couch potato time. Also, low key likes to cook with you. He can’t cook for shit, but likes to “help” by handing you things or chopping things for you. Is a super good taste tester, self appointed.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Stitches by Shawn Mendez (PLEASE DONT HURT ME!!)

We don’t have to Dance by Andy Black (referring to how he can’t really show you affection in public but he loves you)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s open about himself and what he’s thinking, and will always take what you say into consideration. He doesn’t like to keep things from you, but he does omit some detail about his jobs if you ask about them. He just feels like you don’t need to be stressed about it.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

LJ picked up on Frankie’s fondness of you almost instantly. He and Will decided to do what they could to get you together in the interest of making Frankie less of a grouch. If it hadn’t been for them insisting that he was good guy to you, you probably WOULD have let Frankie’s prickly nature drive you away. It took a year or so for you to break down.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) A powder keg of insults, foul language, and bullets. Has actually never called you a name outright, and would absolutely never physically hurt you. When he was deliberately being rude to you, he’d insult your actions rather than you. “Stop acting like a dumb broad!” Vs calling you a bitch to your face. He usually calms down quickly, and is hardly ever angry at you, only when you put yourself in danger.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He likes that he’s scary and tough looking so that when you’re with him, other men scatter pretty fast. Has had many occasions where he stepped away and someone came to flirt with you and he came back and had the pleasure of scaring them.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

You are not allowed to do anything dangerous, ever! Will teach you how to use a gun and how to counter things like chokeholds, so you’re less vulnerable. Will absolutely lose his mind if he learns you’ve put yourself at risk. He will shoot someone so fast for you. Takes every person as a threat to you and will pick fights with somebody that accidentally bumped into you. Do NOT test this man.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. He’s learned to read people well, and he takes his time studying you. Can tell if you’re getting sick before you can. More than once he’s handed you a bottle of Tylenol, leaving you bewildered, and shrugged and said to take them because you’ll have a headache in a few minutes. He can pick up on your emotions easily and has learned what to do to handle them.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Honestly, marriage isn’t that important to him. He’s not opposed to the idea at all, but like you’ve been together for this long, you love each other, is it really necessary? You’d have to tell him you want to be officially married. He’ll buy you a ring, to show that you’re taken, if nothing else, but he’ll wear his around his neck under his tie so it’s not obvious he’s attached to anyone to discourage his rivals using you to get to him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

The smell of your perfume. Holding you in his arms and taking deep breaths makes all of his troubles go away.

[tothemeadow]

if it's genuinely ok to ask for more, akaza anon would really, really love to see a part 2 of the fic you wrote last time!! like, after he escorts the reader home and she has more time to admire him, maybe she could fawn over how pretty he is and end up downright desperate to please him in any way possible? .. my thirst is showing, lmao... but i feel like demons need more appreciation for their 'demonic' aspects like fangs/markings/etc-- things the average person would likely be put off by. ;v;

sexy basketball

‘the taste of marechi pt. 2′ / Akaza x Reader

warnings: NSFW, mentions of blood, you know the drill

words: 1,624

-

There’s something about playing with fire that pulls you in; the mere danger of it all is enticing, the idea of getting hurt too risky, but it’s worth it.

Clutching onto Akaza’s bare shoulders, you muffle your squeals in his shoulder as he jumps from roof to roof. Air whistles in your ears, carries the loose strands of your hair. You’re flying, for gods’ sakes, and yet you’re spending every moment with your eyes shut. Just then, Akaza comes to an abrupt stop, his whole body relaxing.

“We’re here,” he mutters. Dropping to the ground, dust clouds around his feet and he gently sets you down.

Opening your eyes, you realize that he’s right; you gawk up at your home, the lights already burned out. It seems like no one else is awake.

“This place smells like you, so I just…” Akaza trails off awkwardly. It’s kind of funny, especially after he was fucking you so roughly merely minutes ago.

“You should come inside,” you murmur. Reaching towards him, your fingers interlace with his. In the moonlight, you can clearly seeing the dark blue markings covering his entire body, how they travel down his muscular arms and leave his fingers entirely blue. “I promised I had more to show you, didn’t I?”

“You’re awfully giving,” Akaza grunts, but he lets you pull him towards your home.

With careful movements, you unlock the doors and slip inside, kicking your geta off as Akaza slowly closes the door behind you. The air is thick with tension as you sneak towards your room, taking extra caution as to not awaken your parents. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, the idea of getting caught heavy on your mind.

Even after you slide the shoji screen leading to your room closed, unease still lays on your shoulders. The fact that a man is in your room has your mind spinning; this is inappropriate in society’s eyes, but you’re way past that at this point. You’ve already let Akaza defile you, and in the most delicious way possible. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more.

Already, Akaza’s stirring behind you, his chest meeting your back as he drapes his arms around you. His hand caresses your inner thigh through your yukata, tauntingly close to where the searing ache is starting to grow once more. His lips skim over the bitemark he’s left, his claim of possession.

“I want to see you,” you breathe, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. You’re still somewhat dizzy from the passionate encounter earlier, your bottom lip swollen from his ruthless attack.

“Eager now, aren’t you?” Akaza mutters. He nips at your neck, drawing out a sharp breath from you. “And at first you were terrified to see me.”

“Please, Akaza,” you urge. You manage to spin around his grasp, your hands landing on his pectorals. Pushing him backwards, you guide him to your bed; the back of his knees catch on the edge of the mattress and down he goes, a slight laugh slipping from his lips as you straddle him.

You kiss him slowly, taking the time to savor his taste, the heat of his mouth. Your bitten lip aches, begs for a chance to take some time and heal, but you ignore it. Akaza grows more and more handsy, his large palms squeezing on the plush mounds of your ass. He relishes in your quiet groan, his tongue easily finding passage into your mouth. His cock stirs underneath you, prods at your pubic bone; it’s with great reluctance you pull away, a string of saliva sticking from your lip as you detach yourself fully from the demon.

Akaza groans impatiently, though he gets comfy on your bed and chucks off his clothes. He watches on as you light the few lamps in your bedroom; your hands shake from anticipation, and it’s almost impossible to strike the match. Glancing back over to him, you nearly choke on your own spit. He’s sitting up against the headboard, pink lashes cast low over his eyes, his fingers wrapped around his cock. The image itself is so sinful, and it makes the slick gathering between your legs spill onto your thighs.

You were a fool before. Seeing him like this, in actual light instead of under the moon, he’s ethereal. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your mouth hanging open in awe. Akaza merely looks at you in amusement, an eyebrow quirking itself on his forehead.

Dropping to your hands and knees on the bed, you crawl over to him. What once was scary, inhuman… it’s beautiful. You know he’s a demon, but he looks more like a god. His breath hitches as your hands run over his meaty thighs, run up his defined abs. The blue and gold of his eyes are precious gemstones, so deep and vibrant in color that you’re desperate to commit them to memory. You don’t want this to be the only night you spend with him, but an inkling the back of your head says otherwise.

Akaza stops all movements, his breath going completely still as you run your fingers over his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the swell of his bottom lip. What you really want to see, though, are his teeth.

“Open up,” you murmur.

As if falling under your spell, Akaza opens his mouth. You stare at the dazzling canines, the tips sharper than any blade out there. It was those teeth that bit into you, that tongue the beckoned your blood to spill. Pleasure makes your entire body thrum as you slowly poke at his sharp teeth. You jolt in surprise when Akaza’s lips abruptly close around your finger; keeping his eyes focused on yours, he suckles on your fingers, his tongue lathering over the digit. His teeth scrape against your knuckle, just barely breaking the surface. He moans throatily as the tiniest droplets of your delicious blood land on his tongue.

You can’t stop staring at him. You press your finger further into his mouth, push down on his tongue and urge him to bite you some more. Your other hand joins the one he has wrapped around his cock; he groans at the touch, his eyes fluttering enticingly.

“How are you so pretty?” you breathe. Removing your fingers from his mouth, you run them down his body, follow the lines of his dark blue markings. The colors of his skin, his hair, his eyes… You’ve never seen anything like it before.

“(y/n), fuck,” Akaza grits. He chokes on a moan as you gently squeeze his cock. “Take off your clothes…”

“Yes, my lord,” you say automatically. Akaza’s cock kicks in your hand at the title, a fat drop of precum swelling from the cockhead and slipping down the side.

He hisses as you pull away; you make hasty work of stripping down, your nipples standing to attention, the slick between your legs feeling cool against your heated skin. Akaza moans at the sight, his hands reaching out and eagerly grasping onto your breasts.

“Akaza,” you purr, “I want to pleasure you. My lord, please.”

The moan bubbling from Akaza’s chest is muffled as he stuffs his face between your breasts, his hands dropping down to your ass instead. He mouths at the swell of flesh, his tongue dragging a hot trail up your sternum.

“Bite me,” you plead. “Drink from me. Ruin me.”

“Shit, shit, shit – fuck!”

Yanking you closer, Akaza lifts your hips, snaps you down on his aching cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sudden intrusion, but by the gods does he feel wonderful. Sparks of pain and heat erupt in your chest; his teeth retract from the side of your breast, his hot tongue quickly replacing it as he sucks at the rich blood pouring from the wound. He continuously fondles your breasts, rolling and pinching at your hardened nipples with his fingers.

You take it upon yourself to fuck him. Setting a frenzied pace, your thighs burn with the movements, your velvety walls clenching around his cock with each smooth stroke. Akaza growls against your skin, his hands finding purchase on your ass once more as he helps guide you through the moves. Wet sounds echo throughout the room, along with the sound of skin hitting skin and heavy panting.

Fingers clenched around the strands of his hair, you cry out his name, your voice impossibly hoarse. You want to scream, let the whole world know who’s fucking you so damn good, but you can’t. Not if you want your parents to find out you’re sleeping with a man-eating beast.

“Delicious,” Akaza husks. “I wanna suck you until you’re dry.” He bounces you even quicker on his cock, his hips rocking up into you at the same time. You have no choice but to take it, allow yourself to become his plaything while he fucks you into oblivion. “How is your pussy still so tight?” he pants. “Let me fuck you all night.”

Without even realizing it, you nod frantically at his words. You wish he’d fuck you forever, drink your blood to the very last drop. Even as Akaza rapidly brings you to your orgasm, he bites at your chest over and over, leaving deep marks and drinking as much as he wishes. You cream around his cock, your hand slapping over your mouth as your orgasm rips through you; Akaza merely growls and flips you over, your back digging into the mattress as he sets on a conquest to make you cum all night long.

Because you’re delicious and you’re his, whether you like it or not.

[fandomfoodiedancer]

If these walls could talk

Pairing: Calum x reader x Luke

Summary: Fallen Angel Luke is in love with the reader, but doesn’t think he has a chance, especially as your boyfriend is Demon Calum, so what happens when he walks in on the two of you having sex and gets invited to join in?

Warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, p in v, just pwp

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanifc (and first smut lol) so please be kind! I would love if you reblogged or liked this, and feels free to message me through dm’s or asks! x

Exhausted from a long day of work, Luke trudged down the hall of your shared apartment, headed for his room.

“Oh fuck!” Hearing your soft voice moan made Luke worried something bad could have happened. Without thinking to simply call out, he rushed to your room, opening your bedroom door.

“Oh fuck Calum, that feels so good” you mewled as Calum knelt on the bed behind you, pounding you at a fast pace.

Sensing Luke by the door Calum looked up at him, his eyes flashing black as he stopped his movements to smirk at the timid angel.

“Aw angel. Cat got your tongue?” Luke didn't know what to say, what to think. “How about I make this simple for you, you come and join us, and we'll show you a good time”. Calum's smirk grew with that statement, watching as Luke grew more unsure of himself.

He was a fallen angel. He knew he would never be allowed back in heaven, not after what had happened a few years ago, causing him to fall to earth where he met and befriended you, becoming best friends and flatmates soon after. However Calum had always proved a problem, ever since he started dating you. Albeit not the most vile of demons, Cal was still dark as well as a constant dick in general. All Luke wanted in this world was you, yet here was Calum, rubbing it in his face that he could never have you.

Or could he? Yes, he was still an angel, and this was a sin if it wasn't an act of pure love, he couldn't betray heaven again, could he?

Getting impatient you start to push yourself back onto Calum's cock, desperately needing release. Watching you so desperate, practically begging Cal to keep fucking you with your soft little moans, Luke made up his mind. Fuck it. He wasn't going to back to heaven, may as well enjoy the sin.

“Can I join you?” His voice was more confident than he felt.

“Fuck yes” Calum grinned, knowing he had just tempted an angel.

Pulling away from Cal, you stalked towards Luke, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning up to whisper in his ear to kiss you. He didn't need to be asked twice. Grabbing behind your thighs, he picked you off the ground, legs around his waist as he kissed you with all the pent up passion he had been holding all these years.

When you both ran out of breathe he lay you on the bed, kissing down your body.

“You're so soft and gentle compared to Calum, Lu” you murmured as he kissed your neck.

“You deserve to be worshipped y/n. You're a queen but uncrowned.” You moaned at his soft words, words that coming from an angel felt like heaven itself. Getting impatient, Calum joined you both on the bed.

“How do you want this babe?” The sound of Calum's voice mixed with Luke's kisses caused another involuntary moan to escape your lips.

“I want you in my mouth baby, and I want Luke's mouth on my pussy” Luke froze at your dirty words. Was he actually doing this? Looking up at your soft face, he knew he would do anything for you. Cal chuckled at Luke's concern before gazing intently as the angel kissed his way down your body.

Shuffling into an easier position for the three of you, you lay your head off the bed, ready to take Calum in your mouth as Luke hooked his arms around you thighs, staring at your wet pussy.

“Luke, please. I need you to touch me.”

That was all it took for Luke to dive in, lapping at you like his life depended on it. Before you could cry out at the feeling of such intense pleasure, Calum tapped your lips with his cock before pushing into your mouth and slowly thrusting in and out as you swallowed around him. Luke slowly slipped a finger into you, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you whilst sucking your clit, swirling his tongue around it. That mixed with Calum's cock in you mouth had you embarrassingly close.

“I think our little slut is close, angel. If you keep going like that she'll cum.” Smugness mixed with pride laced Calum's voice as he kept fucking your throat.

You couldn't hold back anymore. The mix of Calum in your mouth and Luke's mouth licking and sucking whilst he fingered you was sheer bliss and you came hard, as Luke and Calum kept going, working you through your first orgasm of the night.

Breathing heavily, you shrugged the angel and demon off you, needing to catch your breath.

“I think we did well angel, but if you think that was fun, just wait 'til your inside her. Wet walls fucking squeezing you until you think she'll burst, but so needy she keeps going anyway. Why don't you give it a try? See if you can really fuck her, give in to your desires, give her what she wants.” Eyes flashing black again Calum stared at Luke, challenging him, tempting him. And fuck if it didn't turn both of them on. Luke knew he'd fell from grace, that going down this path he would just keep falling, but the way you rolled your hips whilst staring at him had him ripping his clothes off in record time, ready to give in.

Hovering over you, Luke lined himself up at your entrance, staring into your y/c eyes, hardly believing what he was going to do. Leaning down as if to kiss you, he softly asked.

“Ready love?” Even in such a sinful setting, he was still such a sweetheart. That's one of the things you loved about him. You'd kept it a secret since the start, never believing that an angel would like you, never thinking you could love both an angel and a demon, but here you were. Lying naked on your bed, having Luke kiss you so passionately and speak so softly, about to have sex with you, whilst Calum stood there, watching on the sidelines as the angel fell for you further.

“I'm ready, Luke.” That was all it took. Kissing you gently, Luke eased himself into you. You gasped at his size but moaned when you heard Calum whisper “oh sin again bright angel”.

Hooking your legs around Luke's waist, you curled one hand in his golden hair and the other in the sheets. You rolled you hips, signalling to him that you needed him to move. Slowly and carefully Luke started to thrust into you, groaning when you clenched around him.

“Fuck” he whispered more to himself, but Calum heard.

“Feels good doesn't she? That feeling of holding her close as you pound into her, wet walls clenching just for you. Well, and for me of course. Knowing that the little slut is so needy and desperate, that she would do anything for you. And trust me when I say anything” He caught your eye and winked. “You don't know the half of it Lukey.”

Something about the nickname ignited something in him. Soon Luke was pounding into you, almost as fast as Calum had been earlier, yet somehow he still held you with a gentleness. Looking over at Cal, you knew you needed him, and from the looks of his rock-hard cock which was leaking pre-cum, he needed you too.

“Calum, I need you too. Please. I want to make you feel good, want to make you cum baby.” Without missing a beat, he was in front of you, cock in your mouth thrusting into you in time with Luke. The feeling was that of heaven, but the sounds of both theirs and your moans was that of pure sin itself. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to that edge fro the second time tonight, and evidently Luke could too, as his hand which had rested on your hip, was now sneaking its way between your legs where it had started to rub your clit. With Luke inside you and Calum in your mouth, let alone the feeling of Luke's fingers on your clit mixed with Calum's groans, you scream around Cal as you came harder than you ever had before.

Working you through your orgasm, Calum pulled out and after a couple of pumps came all over your chest as Luke came inside you, eventually pulling out of your over-sensitive pussy.

Catching your breathe you saw Luke smile contently, only to have Calum gather a towel to clean you up.

Unsure of what to do now, Luke decided it would be best to clear his head and take a shower to clean up. Before he could go though, Calum reached out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to take a shower. Clean up.”

“You didn't think we were done, did you?” Calum raised an eyebrow at Luke.

Luke knew he'd fell from grace, that with them both, he would keep falling. There was only one thought left in his mind; if walls could talk, he hoped they wouldn't say anything. Especially after tonight.

[vvakarians]

Ch. 5 of Wolves Without Teeth is now up!

Beginning | Update | Rating: 18+  

Fic Summary:

Voices born of tragedy are always the loudest, and the blast that destroyed the Conclave at Haven birthed thousands. The only survivor --a seemingly insignificant Dalish elf-- proclaims innocence despite the blood staining their hands. They make a lofty promise to the world, an oaken branch planted for every lost life, and justice for all those affected by the newly created rift in the heavens. Nothing will stop them from leading all of Thedas back into the light, even on wings of death.

Chapter Summary: 

With Calliope mostly healed from the fight with the Pride demon, they think all will be well only to find out that their Mark has changed more than just their mindset, which comes at the worst possible time. But somehow they manage to meet with the advisors without too many ill effects.

V.  It’s still days before Calliope is able to slip from their bed and manage to dredge up enough energy to put their armor on. Artemaeus is on his earlier rounds, though it won’t be long before he walks in. Solas has already done his rounds, he mostly comes by at night when he thinks Calliope is asleep. Not one word is ever uttered between the two of them and he seems content for that to continue, confusing as that is to Calliope. The whispers pick at that concept -- perhaps he is avoiding them somehow. Did they upset him that badly on the trail to the Temple? His behavior is puzzling to say the least. Solas appears to be protective of them --as if he knows them but they can’t ever place him-- but when they try to catch his attention, his interest vanishes. 

They hum to themself as they slip on their tattered cloak, too deep in thought to notice the scurrying in the shadows of their quarters. Not until the sticky, wetness of something latching onto their wrist catches their attention. Pinpricks of terror make their hair stand on end and Calliope freezes, not daring to test the strength of whatever wrapped itself about them. Their heartbeat roars in their ears as they hazard a glance down, everything else forgotten but this. Though there is nothing to suggest anything ever touched them. Not a blemish, not even residue from what certainly was a slimy creature. When they push back the long sleeve of their tunic, there is nothing. Just their bare arm and--

What is that?

Ridges of their pale flesh seem to be jutting up slightly, creating a sort of ripple texture along the inside of their wrist. Welts the size of small coins dot along the back of their hand and palm, irritated and discolored. That terror turns into an icy panic as Calliope checks over the rest of their left hand, thrown from the need to stay frozen in place. A mirror was provided some time in the last several days so they could properly braid their hair back --something they had asked for to retain some form of control while regaining the use of their hand-- and they scramble over to it in a frenzy. There’s more than just the welts and ridges in their flesh; when they look into the glass their eyes are no longer a pale blue, they are a sickly, red rimmed green. Like the Breach. That damned thing that scars the sky and taunts them, speaks to them in their nightmares. 

That sticky sensation returns, creeping up the back of their neck while they raise their left arm up to the mirror. In  horror they watch as three of the innumerable welts slowly peel back the skin on heir hand, revealing demonic eyes that look back at them intelligently. Almost in a question. Throughout, the whispers have been silent; no buzz at the edges of their hearing. Now they rise to a scream that echoes and bounces off the inside of their skull. All nonsense, or perhaps every language on the material plane. Calliope does not know. Only that they feel the rush of being swallowed up by it, entirely consumed by whatever has trapped them here in this moment. Something that they can only later describe as other or eldrtich.

 Minutes or seconds tick by --even hours, for all they can tell-- before the door opens and startles Calliope back from the mirror. They don’t register who enters, glancing wildly at the figure and then back into the glass. Yet the eyes are no longer there. The sickly green of their own irises are however, as are the ridges and welts. Confusion replaces Calliope’s anxiety while they stare and try  hard to comprehend what the hell just happened. 

“Ser Lavellan?” 

Again, Calliope looks to the ill timed guest. There’s a face they recognize; chest length red hair that falls from beneath a deep purple hood, chainmail clinks on the outside of her robes. Leliana. It’s just Leliana. 

“I-- yes? Apologies, I think I must have spooked myself,” they murmur, still distracted but not enough to ignore her presence. 

“Do you need a healer? That arm doesn’t look good.” 

Self conscious, Calliope slips the thick woolen sleeve back over their arm and they shake their head numbly, “No. I--will speak to someone later about it. There’s no pain. It--seems that the Mark has made changes without my permission.” 

There’s a long, heavy silence between the two of them. It’s obvious Leliana is at a loss for words and Calliope is too in shock to say much, not even as they move towards the door. Stiff and unsure of themself. Perhaps Solas or Artemaeus will know more. For now they need  to not think of it and are grateful that the whispers fade to a soft white noise. 

“I came to see if you wanted to meet with the others in the Chantry. Do you think you can manage that?” Leliana asks, stepping to the side briefly for Calliope. 

“I will try. That is all I can do.” 

At least the cold is a welcome distraction this time around. Soothes rather than stabs them, though Calliope is sure that will change if they spend too long outside. The sun is high and bright in the pale blue green sky, the rift sealed but still puffed and raw --like an infected wound. They merely glance at it before narrowing their eyes back down at the muddy ground, careful not to sink too deep into the muck. Suddenly they are very thankful for the boots they were encouraged to take with them. Nice and soft on the inside, perfect to combat the freezing temperatures; wrapped with some cords that jingle with wooden and bone charms. A bit of home to carry with them. The sound comforts Calliope while they follow Leliana off to the large building just beyond the trail.

It’s a short walk, just a few minutes up a long dirt path that winds around a fire pit and various tents. Calliope prepares themself for another round of vitriol, unable to forget the guard who threw that rock. But nothing comes. In fact the people that do gather whisper amongst themselves in awe, or perhaps even reverence. Though that unsettles Calliope as much --if not more-- than the hate spewed days before. Why the change in tone? 

One of the group is another familiar face -- Varric. Laughter lines crease his cheeks as he watches Calliope approach; how he can be so jovial they’re not entirely sure. But it is a comfort to see, and even makes their mouth twitch into a small smile. Or a semblance of one. He doesn’t stop with the others and in fact begins walking in line with two of them; Leliana gives him a nod of recognition as he does so. It quickly crosses Calliope’s mind that he’s wearing a coat that seems much too large for him -- the puffs of dense wool obscures much of his face, and the blocky shape of the leather makes his movements stiff. A complete wonder how he can even walk in it. 

“Spin a story that convinced them?” he asks with a wink. 

“I think so. They found my tales of a nug tripping me and slaying a dragon in the process very compelling,” they respond tiredly, “I managed to slip in a bit about your gorgeous chest hair as well.” 

Varric laughter is a deep, resounding bellow that brightens Calliope’s smile by a fraction. Though they note a slight change when he fully looks them over, his unobscured eyes taking in the changes from when they last saw each other. 

“Kid, are you feeling alright?” 

“That seems to be the question of the day,” Calliope sighs. Their breath comes in clouds before them, “The Mark has made changes. I wish I could say I knew what was happening, but for now I think I’ll be fine.” 

“You should let Chuckles know, if he hasn’t found out already.” 

That gives them pause, it’s a good suggestion and begs the question--does he? Why has he not alerted anyone if he does? 

A frown spreads across Calliope’s face and they give a short nod, “I’ll let him know after the meeting. Though I’m not sure what can be done about it.” 

“Who knows, but for all his oddness he’s pretty good at keeping it in check.” 

Another comment that makes them think too hard. What does Solas know? If the Mark and the Voice are connected, he should know of that but has never said a word about them. Did he...know this would happen as well? Calliope swallows hard and pushes those thoughts out of their mind, thankful that the large doors of the Chantry have finally come into full view. It’s harder to worry about hypotheticals when something so big is looming over you. 

“I’ll keep you posted, how does that sound?” Calliope asks, glancing his way. 

“Yeah, sure. Long as you take care of yourself, kid, that’s all that matters.”

His voice is too soft when he responds, as if a great sadness has settled in his bones-- but Calliope doesn’t draw attention to it. Not yet. Instead they try on a bigger smile for him and gesture to his much too large coat. Throngs of people start to gather around them but Calliope is too busy with Varric, the others --and their growing anxiety-- can wait. He’s been nothing but kind to them. 

“If you promise to find a better coat then I promise to do as you ask. How about that?” 

Another bellowing laugh escapes Varric, so much so there’s a jingle from the golden ringed necklace that rests on his chest. Warmth floods Calliope when they hear that, their anxiety melts away for the moment. Though they can’t help but notice the large group around them in their periphery, ever whispering, looking. 

“Does it really look that bad?” 

“Oh yes, it makes you look like a walking box,” Leliana interjects with a smirk. Calliope startles when she speaks, having forgotten she was there. She’s always so quiet.  

Calliope’s smile widens at her response, however, “Someone had to have given it to him as a joke, right?” 

“I think it was a gift from Cassandra, so something like that.” 

“Ah, that would explain it.” 

“Alright, alright! I’m sure there’s a tailor around here somewhere. You two do your important meeting and I’ll fix this disaster of a coat,” Varric snorts, rolling his eyes with affection. A welcome sight as the throng stares and Calliope’s anxiety spikes to another unimaginable height. Both Leliana and Varric take notice quickly; the one ushering Calliope into the warmer, darker Chantry, while the other bustles through the crowd, breaking some of it up. 

Inside the old, creaking building there’s a sort of calm you only find among places of worship. Though it doesn’t feel nearly as ancient of a peace as Calliope is used to. It makes their chest ache, thinking back to the sprawling temple to Falon’Din that sat deep within the Graves. How much that single ruin felt like home. Here in the torchlight, hundreds of miles from their home, Calliope brushes their fingers along the stone walls of the Chantry and wishes to be back in that flooded sanctuary, surrounded by statues of their gods that have stood against the test of time. 

The once rich but faded golds and reds of Andrastian tapestries feel familiar but foreign at the same time.  Moldy furniture and dusty books surround them, old stained glass still shining brightly in the mid morning sun. Casting rays of colors all across the muddy floor. Their mother once spoke of these places, how they brought her comfort when the world was at its worst. Not because of the religion itself, but how gentle it was in those moments where no one noticed her and she could slip off without alerting anyone. There is a remnant of that here while Leliana and Calliope slowly walk across to another pair of large, ornate doors. Symbols of the religion embossed into the dark wood, a sunburst set into the seam where you would pull them open. Familiar but still foreign. They feel like they shouldn’t be here, even in the momentary peace.

That nasally voice from days before pierces right through the calm the moment the doors swing open and Calliope can’t help but make a face of disgust. This man again? Another shemlen who thinks he knows what is right and what is wrong, Creators forbid you tell him otherwise. Chancellor Roderick stands in his white, gold, and crimson red robes to the side of a large wooden table covered in maps, and what looks like small figurines. Curious, Calliope focuses on what that could possibly mean before looking around to the others flanking the Chantry man. All humans, it seems. Another man and two women, one of which is Cassandra. 

The other man has curly blonde hair, in a slicked back style that interests Calliope --they wonder briefly how he can keep it so neat and tidy in this weather. His armor bears the many sunbursts that can be found through the building, a mix of gold and cold steel. Rich red fabric and dark furs hang around his tall, muscular form. Though his complexion and under eye bags speak of illness, sunken cheeks and a listless gaze. Perhaps he has the Blight? 

“...Roderick, save your breath,” the man murmurs, catching Calliope staring as they enter the room. 

“Why is the prisoner continuously not restrained?” 

Roderick does not waste any time on saving his breath. 

“I’m afraid chains would not do you any good, Chancellor. Has Cassandra not told you I practice magic? I could simply look at you and you’d be a crispy husk,” Calliope rolls their eyes, eliciting a snort from both the new man and the aforementioned Seeker. Though the latter seems to think that much funnier than the ill human. 

“Andaran atish’an, Ser Lavellan,” another voice cuts through the Chancellors rebuttal. 

This time it’s the new woman, dressed in swatches of golden fabric lined with thick, lightly colored and patterned furs. Necklaces hang from her soft, tan neck and glint just as her brilliant smile does. Long, dark hair frames her face in perfectly set curls that are then braided to be kept out of her eyes. Honestly, she seems much too warm and gentle to be in this situation at all, but that is exactly why Calliope assumes she is. Never underestimate the sweet ones. 

They smile back at her when greeted in elven, and bow their head respectively, “Pleased to meet you, even under these circumstances.” 

There is a sound of derision from Roderick that has both Calliope and Cassandra looking his way with annoyance, the former feeling a coil of anger build in their chest. 

“What, do I offend you?” Calliope asks, raising a pale eyebrow at him. 

“These circumstances are of your own doing, of course you have offended me! The Divine is dead and here you stand, still alive.” 

“Shocking as it may seem, Chancellor, I did not kill your Divine. In fact I have been exonerated of all charges. Cassandra told me as much several days ago as I was recovering. While I don’t remember what made her change her mind, I’m inclined to think it was compelling evidence.” 

This time there’s another amused snort from the ill man and he looks up at Calliope, dark eyes sparkling a bit in the lamp light. 

“Careful, you keep prodding him and he might  explode.” 

Roderick once again opens his mouth, but quickly shuts it when Cassandra steps in with a scowl his way and a glance at Calliope. There is a brief moment where her expression turns from irritation to concern when she makes note of the change of Calliope’s eye color, which does make them wonder if they should wander about with their eyes shut from now on. 

“I believe we have some introductions to get out of the way,” the Seeker says, shaking the worry off expertly, “You know Sister Leliana, our Spymaster.” 

Leliana bows her head at the mention, smiling just a touch for Calliope who manages one in return. It’s the least they can do after her friendliness towards them. 

“Our Ambassador, Josephine Montilyet. She is an expert in keeping the peace,” Cassandra gestures to the woman full of warmth, and then finally at the ill seeming man, “This is Commander Cullen Rutherford, you would have met him at the Temple but we know how that went.” 

“I was nearly decapitated, apparently. Which I’m sure Roderick would have been pleased by,” they scoff, glancing away from Cassandra to watch the priest. He does nothing but stare right back, wrinkling his nose. 

“We are lucky you weren’t, otherwise we would not be able to do what we’re doing now,” Cassandra responds, cutting in before Roderick can get a word out. 

Something about that comment unsettles Calliope, makes them seriously consider the Seeker. She had said something about wanting them to stay, that there was danger following them possibly and they didn’t have anything on the Mark yet. Yet this doesn’t seem to be what she’s talking about. 

“I’m assuming we found something when we closed the Breach? What are we doing now?” 

A heavy silence descends upon the room like a thick blanket, extinguishing all sound so much so that the whispers come in loud bursts and Calliope’s pointed ears flutter uncomfortably. They wait for someone to say something, anything at all; nerves standing on end. 

“We saw a vision in the middle of a field of red lyrium that was at the center of the Temple,” Leliana finally speaks, looking from Cassandra to Calliope with a sharp gaze, “Someone or something was there doing a ritual, said that the Divine was meant as a sacrifice. Then you came out of the shadows to ask what was going on. That was when the Rift broke open.” 

A chill runs down Calliope’s spine, that familiar build up of anxious energy. Their eyes dart to the candles flickering just beyond the table, and one of them forms a tall pillar of fire before simmering back down again. No one seems to notice, not even Roderick who is barely paying attention to anything at all. 

“That’s good to know but that doesn’t answer my question. What are we doing now?” Calliope repeats, their gaze hardening. The whispers buzz in anticipation, shadows dancing in their peripheral vision. Once again there’s silence but it’s short lived. 

“The Divine created a writ in case her plan failed to restore peace between the mages and the templars,” Cassandra responds quietly, and taps a book on the table with a gloved hand. It is thick and old, filled with secrets Calliope assumes. 

“What does that mean?” they ask, shifting their weight nervously. 

“We are going to rebuild a group called the Inquisition, to find the Divine’s killer and end the conflict that led to her death. We could also use it to clean up after what happened with the Breach,” the Commander answers for her, and Calliope raises an eyebrow at those gathered around the table. 

“It must be invoked by both of the Divine’s Hands, and will be with or without Chantry approval,” Cassandra says, shooting a withering glance at Roderick who sighs. 

“You know how I feel about this Seeker-” 

“And I don’t care. This is the only way, you know that!” 

“We need to find a replacement for the Divine and quickly! None of this Inquisition nonsense will help us now.” The room descends into arguments and raised voices as everyone attempts to speak over the priest, who in turn raises his whine of a voice to disgustingly new levels. Anxiety and rage make the air thick, too hard to breathe, too hard to move in. From their spot at the other side of the space, Calliope watches that candle flicker once, twice, three times before it erupts into a roaring fire. All of their despair and nervousness centered on one singular wick that burns so brightly it lights up the entire room, banishing the shadows back to where they came. It’s certainly one way to get everyone’s attention. 

Their arguments dwindle into nothing as they scramble to get away from the fire just as it starts to fizzle out and become a smoking ember. Consumed, wax and all, by Calliope’s magical presence. Embarrassment washes over them at the sight but they manage to hold it together while each pair of eyes comes back to settle on them. Calliope finally breaks the silence, that slimy sensation threading through their skin as they say in almost a snarl, pointedly at Roderick --who had decided to argue.

“Create your Inquisition, we replace the Divine and find her Killer. Maybe get answers about what the fuck happened to my hand. Does that sound good?” 

There’s only a beat of silence before Roderick mumbles what could be a ‘yes’, easing Calliope’s volatile mood but not that horrific feeling of otherness wrapped around their wrist. 

“We--should get you in touch with a proper Enchanter, I think,” Cullen comments in shock. A blurting out of words, really. 

“There are mages here I can learn from, if it will soothe your fears, Commander Rutherford.”

“Perhaps we should take a recess? Cool down before we talk about our next steps.” 

It’s Josephine who speaks, light and airy. Unperturbed on the outside by what just happened but the tremble in her hands as she grips her important parchments says otherwise. Calliope doesn’t blame her. 

There’s a note of tiredness and defeat to their tone when they speak again, “I will get my magic under control, it’s been harder since the Mark. I’m sorry for scaring anyone. A recess would be good.” 

[deathonyourtongue]

Winter Passing | Chapter 6

Summary: After car accident leaves him at the base of a mountain with no sign of civilization for miles, a breakup is the least of Henry’s problems. Just as death’s icy fingers begin to coil around him, salvation presents itself in the form of an old cabin in a clearing. Despite years of being told fairy tales and ghost stories that warn against such things, he uses his last of his strength to reach the cottage. When he wakes, he finds not a demon, but an angel, long removed from the insanity of the modern world. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: Smutty goodness, but not like you think. A/N : Bet you can’t guess the song being sung in this chapter!

I  II  III  IV V

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Tiago had never been the most graceful of birds. A parrot by technicality of his species alone, the fact that he could fly at all was something of an affront to nature. With cartoonish eyes that got comically wide whenever he was indignant (which was often), and a plump, squat body that was too heavy to be aerodynamic in any way, he defied all odds as he tumbled through the wind currents, simply happy to be away from his home and made truly useful yet again.

“But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune and swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom?” He sang to himself as he played in the trade winds, looping and curling and sometimes falling a little too close to the water for his own liking. 

When he reached Cuba, Tiago allowed himself to be ping-ponged violently from the Trades into the Westerlies, shivering as the colder currents tossed him up the Atlantic coast towards the woman who lived in the clearing at the bottom of the mountain. 

“‘Take the message to the woman with the sad eyes,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ they said.” He mocked his keepers in his usual aristocratic squawk. As he spoke, Tiago’s head plunged into the frigid water that hemmed New Jersey, a screech replacing his dignified words as he shook the quickly-forming icicles off his neon green feathers. 

“THEY NEVER SAID I WAS FLYING INTO THE WITCH’S TIT ON THE SHADY SIDE OF THE ICEBERG!” He hollered, flapping his short wings frantically to try and get over the worst of the air stream, hoping that hot air truly did rise and that he could gain some of that warm balmy feeling once more before having to plummet back down to earth.

Though it was only mildly warmer above the current, Tiago found himself worn out from his exertions, only managing to float above the cold air for half of New York before plunging back down and riding the frozen spiral of wind towards his destination.

“‘Where the earth meets the water, that’s where you shall find her. Where once was blood now only tears. Behind the White Mountain, reside your peers.’” Tiago recited, his keen yellow eyes quickly finding the spot, wings tucking in close to his body as he went into a free fall towards the small cottage. 

The sound of his body cutting clumsily through the air caught Dyster’s attention, and despite enjoying a leisurely snack of leftover rabbit innards, his sleek black wings lifted him up like a bullet piercing the air. The two birds collided mid-flight, squawks and screeches like sirens in the otherwise-silent clearing. 

“UNHAND ME, YOU SAVAGE! I COME ON THE ORDER OF THEOFINA!” 

“Theo-who? Get off my land, you overgrown avocado!”

“Avo-Avocado! How dare you! Where is your mis--LET GO!--mistress?!?”

Spinning mid-air in a ball of green and black feathers, the two birds made such a ruckus that it woke Gunnar out of a dead sleep. Looking out the back door, he began to bark, knowing Olivia would want to see what was happening. 

The racket woke both Olivia and Henry, and while the latter quickly rolled over and went back to sleep, Olivia knew Gunnar’s warning bark when she heard it. Putting on a sheer robe, she flew down the stairs, sliding to a stop next to the husky and following his gaze out to the stone circle.

“What in the…” she mused, Olivia slipping into her boots and stepping outside without a thought for the cold. 

“Dyster! What are you doing? Let go of it!” 

Hearing his mistress’ voice, Dyster unceremoniously dropped Tiago right into Gunnar’s open mouth, the husky holding the parrot gently in his maw.

“Oh, the torment! This is how I perish, at the hands of brutes! Mercy, mistress, I beg of you!” Tiago lamented dramatically, Gunnar rolling his eyes and giving Tiago a test squeeze before letting him fall to the snow with a wet plop. Olivia bent down and quickly picked up the parrot, brushing the snow off him and checking to make sure neither raven nor husky did any permanent damage.

“Thank you, fair maiden. I come on command of Theofina of the Order Athanato Fengari-” “Order of the Immortal Moon, I know. What does she want?” Olivia rolled her eyes at Tiago’s pageantry, already knowing her answer to whatever command Theofina had for her. 

“My mistress requests your presence at the Order’s Imbolc festivities. Says she has important business to discuss with you regarding the past and your future.” 

Olivia took in the words, remembering what the tea leaves had shown earlier; Good direction, a warning, travel, and the masculine. It was more than coincidence that an invitation to Rome should come not even a full day after the leaves had signaled travel. Already, they’d been right about the masculine and with a quick look over her shoulder at Henry’s window, Olivia was more and more certain that the leaves were, yet again, correct in their prophecy. 

Tiago eyed Olivia warily as he waited for her answer, keen to get back to warmer skies and even warmer land. 

“Don’t rush her, you useless sack of cabbage. She’ll answer when she’s good and ready.” Dyster cut in before the parrot could speak, landing gracefully on Olivia’s arm before pecking at Tiago as though testing his doneness.

“Dyster, be good. He’s an emissary, not dinner.”

“Shame. He’d make for good barbecue,” Gunnar replied before Dyster could, licking his chops as he growled quietly at Tiago, both he and Dyster ready to end the intruder should he step out of line. 

“No one’s getting eaten!” Olivia said, her voice a little louder than she intended. With an exasperated sigh, she looked down at Tiago. “Tell your mistress she’ll have an answer after the new year.”

“But, she’ll make me-”

“New Year, Tiago. No discussion.” She cut him off, reading his name on the tag around his neck, one Tiago clearly forgot he had on by the look of shock on his face. 

“So it’s true! Once again my mistress proves her superiority in all things, including secret knowledge. I shall fly home at once and pass along your remarks! Good day, my lady of sadness.”

The trio watched as Tiago took flight, their heads all crooked to the right as they each tried to figure out how such a hefty creature could defy gravity. 

“It’s a spell, right?” Gunnar asked, eyes unmoving as they watched Tiago fumble his way higher and higher.

“Gotta be.” Dystra answered, fighting the urge to fly up after Tiago for just a little more fun.

“Who knows. Pompous little creature...” Olivia shook her head, turning to go back inside once Tiago was out of sight. 

“Offensive too. Should’ve let me eat him....” Gunnar added, following her in as Dyster flew back to his perch.

Not looking up until she was well inside the house, Olivia shrieked, shut her eyes, and covered herself as much as she could when she came face-to-face with an equally nude Henry.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?” She cried out, trying to find her way around her guest, but managing only to hit her hip on the kitchen counter, the collision strong enough to shoot pain right down her leg like a flash.

“I WAS GONNA TAKE A BATH! I THOUGHT YOU WERE OUT DOING STUFF ALREADY! WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?”

“IT’S MY HOUSE AND I SLEEP HOW I WANT, HENRY!!” She yelled, the pain amplifying her frustration with a morning that had already gone sideways.

Cracking open one eye, Olivia placed her free hand at the right level to cover Henry’s crown jewels, her eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. 

“I’m going upstairs. Don’t look.” She muttered, her frown growing deeper as her words earned her a chuckle from Henry, his tone deep and warm. 

“Too late for that, love.” He answered, the smile in his voice matching his humor. 

To her chagrin, Henry’s laugh, coupled with his words, made her feel things she’d not felt in some time, and it only made getting upstairs all the more imperative. Scurrying past, she did her best to keep her eyes on something other than his nude form, but as she began to climb, it was impossible to miss the view of his pert backside. Olivia knew what she had to do, but doing it with full knowledge of what Henry would be doing downstairs--and of how quiet everything would be in the house as a whole--made the prospect seem nearly impossible. 

Still, Olivia was certain there’d be no other way to turn the morning around, and so once in the solace of her room, with no animals or naked houseguests around, she let her robe slip off her body and climbed into bed. Slipping open the top drawer of her night stand, she pulled out what she needed, and doing her best to relax, tried to let the confusion of the morning slip away in favor of letting her imagination run wild.

Downstairs, Henry had managed to fill the tub, testing the water to make sure he wouldn’t scald himself. The last thing he needed was to be even more invalid than he already was. Lowering himself into the water, he closed his eyes as the warmth enveloped him, his own mind working overtime not only because of his morning encounter with Olivia, but because of the dream he simply couldn’t shake. Weirdly erotic, the dream came back in bits and pieces; Olivia standing nude outside, Gunnar at her feet, the dog protecting her from something Henry couldn’t quite see. More than anything, he remembered that he too was nude and holding himself in his hand for some reason. The more he thought about it, the more his body took over. Before he knew it, Henry was stroking himself slowly under the water, his cock already half-hard given the time of day and the addition of the dream.

His body relaxing, Henry was just starting to get into a rhythm, when the soft sounds of Olivia moaning cut through the silence. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes and focused on the melodic expression of pleasure, letting his imagination play out a fantasy that had been brewing since she’d first gotten him into the tub and handed him the too-small towel.

It was easy to picture making love to Olivia in the tub, water flooding the floor as he gave her as much pleasure as she could handle, his own intensified by the movement of her body against his. His hand tightened around his length as he stroked, imagining Olivia’s petite frame moving with fluidity and grace, her breasts a perfect fit for his hands as she took him in hard and deep, gasping as he filled and stretched her.

In her bed, Olivia’s own fantasy played out somewhat differently. As she slipped the ornate glass dildo in and out of her soaked entrance, she pictured Henry flattening her to the mattress, his front pressing into her back as he rutted into her like a stallion mounting a mare in estrus. Legs splaying wide of their own accord, Olivia could almost feel the press of his warm lips to her face and neck, the pressure building inside her with each stroke of Henry’s proxy. In her mind, he was as wonderful in bed as he was a houseguest; tender yet lively, and knowing exactly how to make her smile even as he made her scream. 

Panting, Olivia pushed the toy in and out at a faster clip, her juices darkening the sheets beneath her as the thought of Henry taking her worked her into a frenzied state of arousal the likes of which no other man--real or imagined--had ever managed before. 

Whimpering keenly as she felt the heat bloom inside her, Olivia knew one orgasm simply wouldn’t cut it. Her thighs trembled as she thought about the press of his weight on top of her, the heat of his body setting her own alight. Most of all, she thought about willingly suffering in order to have his full length inside her, remembering clearly how big he was, even soft. Aroused by the notion that she’d have to work through discomfort to get all of him in, she found herself gasping and rolling onto her hands and knees, the dildo plunging in and out of her at even greater speeds as her wetness slipped lewdly down her inner thighs.

Henry did his best to keep the water from splashing as he matched his strokes to Olivia’s moans and whimpers, his mind turning to what she might be doing to herself upstairs. Having caught an eye-full when she’d come inside, Henry had no problems picturing her bare, pink pussy as she pleasured herself. His cock jerked in his hand as he thought about her hips squirming and jolting up as she toyed with her clit or slipped her fingers inside herself. Nipples hard and chest heaving, she looked radiant in his mind, a goddess worthy of worship, one who he’d gladly drown between the thighs of. Biting the inside of his cheek, Henry managed to stay silent as he came, his hand never stopping its motion as he shot his load all over his own chest, every muscle pulled taut.

He couldn’t help his breathless smirk as he heard Olivia reach her own pinnacle, shivering in delight as her sounds made it clear she was going for more.

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 18

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (V)

----

When Mei Mu Lan finished her rendition of the scene, the 'audience' on the other side of the room still hadn't recovered from the scene that had just happened.

Mei Mu Lan smiled slightly shyly and said,

“It's my first time acting, I hope you won't be offended by my bad performance.”

The words pulled everyone back from the previous scene and the director slowed down to say,

“……Cut …… You truly portrayed the ruthlessness and fickleness of the character. No one knows if the agent is really in love with the man in uniform, but each and every one of us, can feel the realness and complexity of this cheongsam-clad woman.”

So saying, he suddenly sat down in his chair and asked with a broad grin,

“How about that, now that you've seen the results, are you satisfied? There is no one in the world who can perform better than her, so if you don't have any objections, then the role is finalized?”

The crowd immediately nodded vigorously and, having witnessed the facts with their own eyes, all unanimously agreed with the director's proposal.

Mei Mu Lan smiled lightly and retreated from the other side of the room, she returned to the waiting room, still sitting on the previous sofa, opposite Bai Jieying who was now picking up the letter paper and looking at it carefully.

Mei Mu Lan looked at her and suddenly remembered this incident in the plot.

As mentioned in the novel, Bai Jieying, with the help of the male lead, managed to get the supporting female role in 《The Burial Man》, and this role is the Republican agent that Mei Mu Lan is performing today, but now, according to Bai Jieying's costume, she should be running for the role of an undercover agent of another tomb raiding family.

It seems that after the failure of the character Mei Mu Lan to die in the novel's plot, the virtual time order automatically fixed the bug, and the first meeting between the male and female leads, which was scheduled for the funeral, was delayed a lot.

Another woman returned from her interview and the director's assistant outside shouted to those in the room,

“Bai Jieying, you're up next.”

Bai Jieying smiled and stomped on the toes of her shoes and said softly,

“Here we go.”

As she walked outside, she stuffed the letterhead into the envelope.

Mei Mu Lan propped her chin on her hand, her fingers playing with her long, curly hair.

She thought to herself: Since she had now been cast in the role, it was time to perform well. From the clips she had performed earlier, the supporting female character was a person with a demonic spirit on the surface and a cold heart, and she did not feel overwhelmed to perform such a role.

She recalls the plot of the novel: After Bai Jieying's performance, she didn't get the role of the supporting female character, but in the end the cast chose to have her perform it, the reason being that she took the initiative to go to the male lead in the novel and agreed to become his mistress. And on the third day, after they had slept together for one night, the character who was originally set to play the role, had an accident and fell ill, and Bai Jieying replaced her as the supporting female character.

Now with the whole plot being disrupted, I wonder what Bai Jieying will choose to do afterwards?

But the matter was not her concern for the moment, so she did not pay much attention to it.

Now that she has been selected as the supporting female character, she will be working on the set for about three months or so, and during that time she will find the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Ling Yi Yao. But that alone is not enough.

The villains are ruthless and the most important thing is sincerity and time.

But when the film is finished, they won't be able to see each other for a few months.

They won't continue to work together until another play starts shooting and she gets the lead role in 《Love in a Fallen City》.

Mei Mu Lan frowned and tapped her cheek with a long, slender finger.

Maybe she needs to move. She thought of it this way, the original owner had just graduated from university and retired from the school dormitory, if she didn't buy a house, she would have to live in Aunt Wen's villa for a long time, this way, she would disturb Aunt Wen's daily life, and Mei Mu Lan would feel embarrassed; most importantly, although she had plenty of time, she also had to plan every step and calculate carefully.

Taking various factors into consideration, Mei Mu Lan decided to move to the vicinity of Ling Yi Yao's house.

As mentioned in the plot, Ling Yi Yao will buy a flat in the newly built Jiangnan district in the suburbs in half a month's time, where she will live most of her free time afterwards.

With this in mind, Mei Mu Lan thought about the money for the house.

She recalled the memories of the original owner, who had performed in national and international folk performances when she was very young, and her mother had kept all the money from these performances in a passbook account, which she could collect when Mei Mu Lan became an adult. And the savings of these ten years are tallied up to be a considerable amount of money, which is expected to be able to buy the whole Jiangnan district.

Now that she had the location and the money, the next step was to buy and renovate the house when she had the time to do so.

Mei Mu Lan secretly thought about it, time passed quickly and in a short while, all the women present had finished their interviews.

And after everyone had waited for about half an hour, the director himself came over and told everyone the result of the casting, which was that Mei Mu Lan and another woman were chosen, while Bai Jieying was not chosen because her performance was too raw and dull.

After the director had finished speaking, the women in the room were all smiling and saying goodbye one after another.

The director said,

“You two are very good actors, so take your scripts today, go back and rest for the day, get your affairs in order, and meet me on set tomorrow morning at 7am, I'll arrange for two crew members to come and teach you about the set. Do you have any questions? If not, then let's call it a day.”

Both of them shook their heads, thanked him and left.

After bidding farewell to the director, Mei Mu Lan went to the set to see Ling Yi Yao, and after saying goodbye to Ling Yi Yao, who was wearing a gentle mask, she drove back to Aunt Wen's house.

Aunt Wen was sitting on the sofa in the living room, her head slightly raised, her long, warm eyes overflowing with despondency and pain.

She was covered in smoke and the ashtray on the coffee table was full of cigarette butts, so it was obvious that she had smoked a lot.

At this moment, when she saw that Mei Mu Lan had returned, she immediately extinguished the long cigarette between her fingers, she went to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulled back the curtain and opened the window.

Before coming over and standing a little further away from Mei Mu Lan, she said,

“Well? What are your next plans?”

Mei Mu Lan bent down to undo the lacing of her high heels, and when she heard this, she tilted her head slightly to look over.

Her figure was reflected in the bright sunlight outside, the curves of her pretty body on full display, the high-waisted, open cheongsam in motion, partly spread out to reveal the long, straight thighs inside.

With a big smile on her face, like a child begging for sweets, she said,

“I was selected and the director said to take a day off today and wait until tomorrow to learn more.”

Aunt Wen twisted the fingers holding the cigarette and she said in a hoarse voice,

“Well, you've been out all day, are you hungry? Auntie Wen has cooked for you, now go and warm up.”

With that, she turned and walked towards the kitchen.

Mei Mu Lan changed out of her high heels and closed the door, she went back to her room first, washed the make-up off her face, took off her tight and provocative cheongsam and changed into her everyday casual clothes.

When she had changed, she sat down on the living room chair and in a few moments, three dishes and a soup were brought up and placed in front of her.

Mei Mu Lan finished her meal with graceful movements, wiped the corners of her mouth, and then said,

“Auntie Wen, do you have the bankbook my mother left me? I want to buy a house and move out.”

“clatter”, Auntie Wen's hands shattered the dishes by accident.

Mei Mu Lan frowned as she got up and walked over, picking up a broom dustpan and sweeping up the fragments, then she cocked her head and asked,

“Auntie Wen, are you hurt?”

Aunt Wen shook her head expressionlessly, her face much paler than usual, and with a trembling hand, she said,

“I've smoked too much and my hands are not steady. Sorry, sit down for a while, I'll look for your bankbook.”

Mei Mu Lan smiled and said,

“Next time smoke less, it's not good for your health.”

“Hmm, I know.”

When Mei Mu Lan got the bankbook, she immediately drove and went to Jiangnan District to reserve the house. After some formalities to buy the house, she went to the decorator's office and settled on a room to renovate the home and decorate in the style of the original owner's character, and she listed down the general renovation requirements.

The next thing to do is to discuss the details of the renovation, which can only be discussed in detail with the decorators when the renovation is official.

After all this, Mei Mu Lan was already a bit tired and after a quick wash and shower, she fell asleep.

The next day, she went to Ling Yi Yao and saw that she was busy acting in a scene from the script, so she sat and waited. On the way, she politely declined the director's offer to replace her with someone else to teach her, patiently and intently watching Ling Yi Yao's figure.

After waiting for more than an hour, Ling Yi Yao returned and Mei Mulan immediately picked up the thermos with green bean soup and handed it over.

Ling Yi Yao looked at her face without glancing at her, gave a gentle smile and said,

“How was it? What have you learnt?”

Mei Mu Lan shyly pursed her lips and said,

“You're a great actor! I didn't notice anything else but you.”

Ling Yi Yao's brow twitched: “……”

Mei Mu Lan handed over the thermos again, making its presence known, and said,

“Here's the green bean soup I made with love. You must be tired after acting for so long.”

Ling Yi Yao's expression stiffens: “……”

Mei Mu Lan forcefully put the thermos bottle in Ling Yi Yao's hand, then took out an unopened towel from the satchel on the recliner, tore open the bag and handed it.

Slowly and silently, Ling Yi Yao took the towel and then wiped the sweat stains on her face and the dust on her hands.

When Mei Mu Lan saw her finish wiping, she immediately took the towel back and put it in the bag she had just put it in, muttering under her breath,

“This is the towel with Ling Yi Yao's fragrant sweat on it, my 1024th collection, which I must keep until the sky and the earth fall apart and the sea dries up.”

Ling Yi Yao's hair stood on end: “……”

Ling Yi Yao's heart bursts into tears: “Help, there's a perverted fan here!”

Mei Mu Lan's heart is spilling over: “Help, Ling Yi Yao's sweat smells so good!”

[ahs-source]

Happy Friday! Welcome to this week’s Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted these fantastic works for this week’s Fanfiction Friday. Let’s celebrate these wonderful works that you can all read while in quarantine! Please stay safe!

As Above, So Below (Completed) by 7_wonders (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Hades & Persephone au | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 71441 words

Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the Dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Headache (Completed) by heramew (AO3) Relationships: Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow | Tags: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, young Fiona and Myrtle | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2098 words

1971, Fiona and her friends sneaked up to a party in town, but things didn't go as planned.

Headfirst for Halos (WIP) by @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Tate Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. A certain way an event was phrased could be considered an allusion to molestation. strong language. a reference to homophobic slurs (none were used) | Completed (1/? Chapters) | 1240 words

I truly believe there isn’t a sound as horrible as the sound of my alarm. The repetitive chimes shoot straight to the center of my brain. It’s horrible. My bones crack as I attempt to get out of bed, a groan instinctively leaving my throat. I was dizzy, the light peeking through from between my blinds making my head throb. My shitty alarm clock read 6:27AM. 15 minutes until my ride gets here.

Love Like Winter (Completed) by @dailylangdon​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Winter Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral sex, alcohol use, fingering, lack of plot | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 549 words

How did you end up like this?

You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long. She was just a girl you knew from school. It was Christmas break from college and by chance you ran into her on your first night back in town.

She took you to her place and you split a frozen cherry lime wine cooler. The two of you talked about old times and dissolved into giggles. Next thing you knew, every piece of your clothing was hastily peeled off your body.

Resistance is Futile (Completed) by Sojourne (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Begging, Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Overstimulation, Choking, Hair-pulling, Demons, Demon Summoning, Spanking, Rough Sex | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 5355 words

Soon after moving into your new apartment, you realize that something isn't quite right. It's constantly cold, you always feel like someone is watching you, and things start moving around on their own.

Turns out, one of the past tenants summoned a demon and then trapped him here, and now he's upset with you invading his territory. Uh-oh.

Demon AU

Run Rabbit Run (Completed) by @maso-xchrist​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: PURE SMUT. Non/dub-con, chasing, violence, mimicry, knifeplay, cutting, stabbing, choking, hanging, & blood consumption. In other words, not for the faint of heart! | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 6k+ words

A single heart beats in the outpost.

Security Blanket (Completed) by @mxnstersarehuman​​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Prompt: Hey could you write something maybe for a softer Kai Anderson x reader idc what I’m sorry I know this isn’t really specific just softer Kai thanks if you can! | Completed (1/1 Chapters)

You hear the slam of the door and immediately know Kai is home. Things had been so hectic as of late and he was always so busy with his cult so you always made sure to stay up for his return home just so you could see him. Even if it was only for a few minutes before fatigue took over and you both fell asleep.

Kai was a terrifying person, mean and vindictive and manipulative and cruel, all things that he had never been towards you. Everyone in the cult had thought you were crazy for accepting his proposal of a date when he had offered a year ago, but you saw something in his eyes when he asked you. His request wasn’t demanding like you would’ve expected, rather polite and genuinely inquisitive as to whether you actually liked him romantically.

So of course you had said yes.

thanatos (Completed) by SophieGraceJ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Immobilisation kink, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Creepy, Blood and Gore, fairytale!au, Snow White!Au, dark!millory, this is dark, Death, cosmic horror kinda | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2537 words

“There’s something in these forests.” “Something … something venomous. It’s been killing me since I arrived here. It is what drains me of life, what keeps me bed ridden.” “But I cannot leave. I protect the people. Now I pass this onto you, this destiny is yours now Mallory.”

She fell, fell deep into the grave, body unmoving. At first, she suspected it was sleep. But it wasn’t. No.

Her eyes blinking again, vision clear. She could see, hear, smell … but not touch. Couldn’t move a finger, couldn’t wriggle her toes, couldn’t open her mouth to gasp when time passed.

He met her gaze, and his eyes widened. Only just discovering an intimacy. He smiled some more. This time, it reached his eyes, although they wept with tears, copying her own.

The Devil Incarnate (Completed) by jeromevaleska​​​​​ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: POV Second Person, Eventual Smut, Banter, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Lots of plot, Reader-Insert, Explicit Language, Slow Build, Sexual Tension, it starts off when miriam brings michael into her home, there will be smut ya'll already know, Reader-Interactive, Eventual Sex, there's some tension between you and michael, you don't trust him at all, Porn With Plot, i'll add tags as the story goes on, Love/Hate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Relationship | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 142022 words

You're Miriam Mead's daughter, and you two have a complicated relationship to say the least. You think she's more than a little bonkers with her religious beliefs, and no matter how much she has tried to make you follow the same dark path, it's in vain. But when Miriam welcomes Michael into your home, you start to question everything and you just might become a believer.

the love that discovered the sin (Completed) by @lvngdvns​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader x Timothy Howard | Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), threesome, rough sex, double penetration, anallingus, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, choking, cum eating, religion kink, biblical allusions/perversion of scripture, all things blasphemous and unholy. Literally just sacrilegious PWP. (+ crack ship pairing) | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 4.4k words

“Bless me father,” she breathes into Timothy’s ear as she crawls astride his lap, slipping a finger underneath the rim of his collar and pulling it free in a single, effortless motion, “for I have sinned.”

Untitled pt. 2 (pt.1 here) by @writerforprompt​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Dark Themes, Pregnancy | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2350 words 

You were kneeling in between Kai’s legs, head tilted towards the sky, arching your throat into his grip. You brought your chest forward to make sure it was directly within his line of sight. Based upon the number of hungry glances he shot down your plunging neckline, you’d say it was.

Thank you to those who sent in these works! Please continue sending submissions to ahs-source.tumblr.com/submit or through the Tumblr mobile app to continue celebrating the writers in the community!

Previous FF Fridays: 1 | 2a + 2b | 3 | 4a + 4b | 5 | 6

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part VIII

(A/N at the end)

All Parts:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Part VIII

James stood frozen in the street. His hands still clenched around Matthew’s waist coat; his neck strained from looking over his shoulder at where Anna had pointed to.

A body lay in the street.

James found himself unable to speak, to move, to operate past filling and releasing his lungs in short bursts. He could hear his name being called as if through a thick wall.

Is it Lucie? The question lingered on his tongue, but he could not bring himself to ask it.

He didn’t want to know the answer.

Thomas was the first of them to move. Carefully at first, waving his arm in the air to make sure the fog wasn’t concealing something more, and then he broke into a run and slid to his knees beside the body.

After a breathless moment, he turned his head to the rest of them and said, “It’s Alastair. Come quick, it’s Alastair.”

James released Matthew and felt life swell inside of him again like the first hit of hot hair in a balloon, but his relief was quickly replaced by another fear. If Alastair Carstairs was the body in the street, then where was Lucie. Where was his sister?

~*~

The moment the sand left Cordelia’s hand, Belial stumbled backwards with a cry, giving Cordelia enough time to reach forward and pull the knife from his scabbard. She flipped it deftly in her palm and pushed herself precariously to her feet. With malice in her eyes, despite the pain that coursed through her ribs at the discordant movement, she held the knife out in front her towards Belial posed to strike with everything she had left inside of her.

It wasn’t Cortana, but it would have to do.

She caught a glimpse of her arms, and saw the black veins that coursed underneath her skin, but she didn’t have a moment to care for that now. If she was going to stop him from using Lucie, and she intended to do just that, she’d better do it quickly.

Belial scrapped the sand from his eyes; his back turned towards her. A strange noise came from his throat. It took Cordelia a moment to realize that it was laughter.

When he turned back around his face was orange from the sand. He spit a glob of tinted saliva down at her feet and grinned wickedly as he took in the knife that she had acquired from him.

A cough ripped out of Cordelia. She felt something hot burn up her throat as she wretched into the crook of her elbow. When she looked down, black liquid stained the ripped fabric of her dress sleeve. She didn’t look on it for too long before she straightened again and forced her aching body back to her feet, all while closely watching Belial.

A light breeze could knock her over, but she widened her stance in an attempt to gain balance. The shake in her legs did not go unnoticed by Belial.

“What do you mean to accomplish, Miss Carstairs?” Belial dropped his hands to his sides. “Do you intend to fight your way out of this, as you did before? When you can barely stand on your own two feet.”

“I had a broken leg the last time I drove a sword through your chest.” She grimaced, as a painful wave went up her torso. “I am no stranger to pain.”

Belial tilted his head back. “A true fighter. You might do well in my new world. Perhaps I’ll keep you as a pet for my granddaughter, to keep her in line.” She thrashed the knife when he stepped towards her and nearly cried out from the pain of the movement. “You cannot hurt me, child. You are only making things worse for yourself.”

“You cannot have Lucie,” said Cordelia, stepped back once as Belial stepped forward. Her teeth ached from clenching them together. She focused on that pain instead of the one at her side. “I don’t care how many times I have to drive my blade through you, you will not take my friend.”

Belial tilted his head. “You cannot kill me, Miss Carstairs. No mere mortal can, not in this form, and not with that stick. ” He glanced over his shoulder as a flash of bright light rippled through the smoke colored clouds. The air seemed to crackle with a new energy. Cordelia wasn’t sure, but it felt as if the ground trembled underneath her already unsteady legs.

With his back turned towards her now, Cordelia seized the opportunity and brought her arm back over her shoulder and threw the knife forward, hilt over tip, but as it was about to sink into Belial’s neck, the smooth pale skin of his hand shot up and gripped the blade, instantly turning the knife to ash.

Cordelia felt her mouth drop open. Her breath caught in her chest as she sank back to the ground.

Her last hope was now blowing away with the breeze.

“Cordelia!”

Belial face curved into a malevolent sneer. “Our company has arrived.”

Cordelia looked up as both an odd sense of relief and dread overcame her. Lucie, dressed in her black Shadowhunter gear, ran towards them, small but lethal. Her hair had come undone and whipped behind her in wild torrents before careening over her shoulder as she skidded to a stop inches from where Belial and Cordelia stood. In both her hands were perfectly sharpened daggers.

Lucie’s rage filled eyes softened when they fell on Cordelia. “Are you all right? Are you injured?”

Cordelia removed the hand that clung to her ribs and saw the fresh blood on her palm. “I’m injured, but I’m all right. Lucie, you should not have come.”

“Of course I should have,” said Lucie and her eyes narrowed on Cordelia’s bloody hand. “You’re bleeding. How bad is it? Did he do this to you?”

She rushed forward, just as Belial cleared his throat and stepped in-between the path separating Cordelia and Lucie. “Granddaughter. How lovely to finally meet you.”

“You’ll forgive me for forgetting myself, but I cannot repeat the sentiment,” said Lucie, planting her hands on her hips. “What do you prefer to be called? I refuse to call you grandfather, as that implies some familial affection, which for you I harbor none, so what will it be? Belial? Lord of Lies? Whacking disappointment? You choose.”

Belial’s hands flexed at his sides. “I suppose Belial will do.”

“Excellent,” Lucie shifted her stance. “Belial, let Cordelia go. You have what you wanted. I’m here. Your need for her is over.”

“Happily, dear granddaughter,” Belial glanced over his shoulder at Cordelia. “Nothing would bring me more joy than releasing Miss Carstairs back to earth. However, I feel the need to keep her as insurance.”

“Insurance?” Lucie prickled. “What does Cordelia insure?”

“Your cooperation.”

Cordelia coughed again and sank farther towards the ground. More black ichor burned up her throat as the demonic poison raged war against her blood stream. Sweat poured from her brow as she lifted her head, defiant against leaving Lucie alone with this monster.

Lucie’s eyes met Cordelia’s exposing the first hint of fear. “My cooperation?”

“Yes,” hissed Belial, as he started walking in a leisurely circle around Lucie. “It’s recently come to my attention that you possess a power far greater than any of my offspring.”

“Are there others?” Lucie scoffed. “I was not aware. You must clean up well if women are willingly throwing themselves at you.”

Belial paused. “Who said anything about willingly.”

A visible shudder went through Lucie. “What is it that you want?”

Belial continued to walk, his hands clasped behind his back.  Something about the way he tilted his head back to look at the sky reminded her again of James. Not so much in appearance anymore, but more in the gestures; the way he held himself.

“At this point, you have only barely grazed the ability of your power.”

“Power?” Lucie glanced back at Cordelia. “What power? I think you are mistaking me for my brother. I am completely ordinary.”

“I’m quite sure I have the right offspring,” said Belial, his eyes wandered over Lucie in a way that was entirely too possessive.``Your mother has the ability to shape shift, your brother the ability to jump transfer himself into other realms. You, I’ll admit, I overlooked you. I’d preferred to have a male, but that was before I became aware of your truly interesting gift.”

Lucie scoffed. “I wouldn’t consider it a gift.”

“Oh, but it is,” Belial stepped towards her again, only this time Lucie didn’t step back. “You have the ability to control the dead. Tell me, have you ever brought someone back to life?”

“No,” said Lucie. “I can only communicate with their ghosts.”

“Communicate?” asked Belial, as he continued to walk around in a leisurely circle around Lucie. “Or control?”

Lucie’s teeth skimmed her bottom lip. The first sign for Cordelia that confirmed what Belial had told her about Lucie was true. It was no secret, to anyone, that Tessa Gray was the daughter of a demon; therefore, it was no secret that James and Lucie were the grandchildren of one. They were both young children when Lucie told Cordelia about her grandfather; confided in her. Lucie could have told her that her hair was brown for all Cordelia cared.

So why, thought Cordelia, after all these years of friendship did Lucie never tell her about this power? Did she not trust her to keep the secret? Or that it would somehow change the way Cordelia felt about her?

Lucie shifted her stance. “Prefer a male for what?”

Belial blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You said a moment ago that you preferred to have a male… a male what?”

“A male host,” said Belial. “I want you to willingly let me take possession of your body so that you and I can fully access your abilities. You will help me raise an army and take possession of every realm.”

Lucie’s hands balled into fists. “No.”

“Then Miss Carstairs dies a miserable death,” said Belial. “She’s not far now.”

“Lucie don’t,” begged Cordelia. “He will kill me anyway!” Tears burned Cordelia’s eyes. “He will kill everyone— everyone we have ever loved and force them to join in his army in their death. Lucie, you must go. Run away from here and go home.”

“I’ll keep her alive,” said Belial. “For you, granddaughter, I will keep her alive.”

“Do not listen to him.” All she could feel was the exhaustion, the poison in her veins, waiting to rush back, moments away from claiming her. “Even if he did allow me to live, what kind of life would that be, Lucie? I would have no one. I would have nothing. Leave me and run back the way that you came. There should be a portal where you came through—“

Cordelia watched as Lucie looked over her shoulder in the direction she had come from. Her hair concealed her face as the wind started to rage around them, picking up the sand and ash, making it difficult to see. For a moment, Cordelia saw Lucie pick up her foot, and the same overwhelming sense of dread and relief consumed her.

Belial stood impossibly still, though she watched his fingers stretch as if he’d been burned.

“If you run—” he started, but Lucie cut him off. “I’m not running.” Lucie looked down at the dagger in her right hand. The same expression that would cross her face when she is stuck on a particular scene in one of her books crossed her face now.

Belial inhaled slowly. “You cannot kill me with that, Lucie. Ask Miss Carstairs, it won’t work.”

Cordelia wanted to stand, to fight beside Lucie, but she couldn’t rise: her body was shutting down. Shadows began to creep in at the edges of her vision. The smell of spices that reminded her of her home filled her lungs. She thought she could hear the sound of children laughing and music playing, a soft trickle of sound ushering her into the unknown.

Cordelia pulled her hand away from her ribs. The wounded was still bleeding freely, but her blood was no longer red, but black as ink.  

“I know that you understand only a fraction of the power that you possess.” He leaned towards Lucie. The wind raged harder around them. Sand burrowed into Cordelia’s skin, her eyes, her mouth, unable to shield herself from it as she lay limp as a corpse. Tornados of bones, trees, and sand funneled around them; she could see the strange patterns they made in the sky. “Together,” he said, his voice echoed with something demonic, “we can take claim of any realm we desire. Together we can raise one the greatest armies any world has ever seen.”

Lucie’s back was to Cordelia now. If she was able, she could reach across and grab her ankles.“You’re wrong,” said Lucie. “I understand my power perfectly and I will not let it be used by you.” Lucie spun on her heel and threw herself beside Cordelia, wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around her friend.

With her mouth inches from Cordelia’s ear, Lucie screamed. “Now Jesse!”  

Cordelia was overcome with the sensation of falling. She could hear yelling and something hot and sharp pinch the skin around her wrist as a face came to loom over hers.

“Don’t die Miss Carstairs,” Belial smirked. “There is still a need for you yet.”

“Cordelia!” Lucie’s voice was the last thing she heard as the darkness slowly enclosed her vision and they fell, like burning angels, towards the earth.

Author’s Notes: Hi everyone! Sorry this is being posted so late. It was a busy day. Hope you are well, safe, and happy. Thank you for ALL the well wishes, I am doing much better and I’m excited to get back into this. If you didn't see my previous post about possibly continuing this fic for upwards of 20 chapters (that’s what I have outlined so far), I have decided that I am just going to go for it, which might make the end of this chapter slightly jarring. I set it up for this to be a type of grand finale, but I have more I want to do with these beloved characters. I will continue to post on Sundays, so next post will be Sunday 5/31. As always, please hit the heart, reblog, or pop in with a lovely comment. And most importantly, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it.

[zenithlux]

Tendrils of Regret - Part 1

Read on AO3 Here!

My DMCWeek fic, Tendrils of Regret is finally here! I’m really excited about this one and all the follow-up stuff I’ve got cooking up for it! I’ll be posting a chapter a day for the rest of the week around the same time (and bumping them in the evening) so hope ya’ll enjoy :)

You still remember those frightful days, trapped in the body of a demon. You’d been there for a week and a half kept alive by a vine that pierced your body with magic you didn’t understand. Most of the time, you drifted in and out of sleep, alone in the darkness and dreaming of the world you were missing. Other times you were forced to watch as the thing you were playing host to gleefully pierced the hearts of others with its vines and tendrils, sucking away their blood and devouring their life itself. How you trembled with fear, uncertain whether to pray for a rescue or hope for your end. 

Then, there was him. The man that became your savior. A tall, tattooed, black-haired man with remarkable demons that sensed who you were. “Well, well!” A talking bird demon said. “There’s a human in here.” When he landed on your demon’s head,  you felt him peck it before flying back to the arm of the man. “What’s the plan, V?”

V you thought as the man swung his cane with a low chuckle. “We’ll just have to tear them out.”

Your demon screeched, slamming its vines down around the man. But V just scoffed as he slipped out of the way. A black panther lunged… and that’s all you remembered. When you woke up, you were in his arms with the panther nuzzling your side, a large, rock creature sitting behind him, and a whispered promise; “I’ll protect you.”

And, for the next month, he did. V taught you how to use your new powers that the vine embedded in your chest gave you. He fought alongside you, destroying the vines of that demon tree that nearly destroyed your home. His demons became your friends. You slept by Shadow’s side almost every night, while Griffon cuddled up next to V after complaining that it was “the kitty’s job” almost every time. All five of you had been close- as close as you could be considering how little time you actually had. 

Then, one day, he gave you two bracelets made of black cords and a blue rose charm on each. “Hold on to these,” He said. “And when I see you again, you’ll return one to me.” Then, he smiled and kissed your forehead before disappearing for months with no sign of coming home. Another acquaintance of yours, Dante, also disappeared, leaving you, Lady, and Trish to keep Devil May Cry going in his absence. 

Not a day went by that you didn’t think of V. But you had to keep moving forward. You couldn’t let your feelings consume you, not when you still had a piece of a demon latched to your heart. Lady and Trish treated you well, though you didn’t miss the occasional pity in their eyes, as if they knew something you didn’t. But you never got a chance to ask, and they never told. All three of you simply worked together under Morrison’s guidance, with you taking all the jobs your powers could handle. 

Still, you couldn’t help but feel disconnected from the world. You were missing something important. A piece of your life that you couldn’t get back. 

“So what’s it today, Morrison?” Lady said as she hopped on the desk and swiped a piece of pizza. Trish rolled her eyes but took her own slice. You slunk over to the second desk you’d recently bought to store all the paperwork and the blue rose you’d bought a few weeks ago. You touched your hand to the soil, feeling its life pulse in your fingertips. The petals bloomed under your touch, reinvigorated. 

“Nothing important today,” Morrison said, waving a letter in the air. “Except some paperwork.” He tossed the envelope and you caught it without looking. “Can you handle that, Rose?”

Rose wasn’t your real name, but you’ve never shared it with them. You were a different person now after you were a part of that demon. You’d never returned to your family, accepting this new life as your own. And Dante had tried plenty of other names - Sunshine. Sugarplum. Little Leaf. Vine Lady. - but it had been V who’d overridden him, calling you “my little rose”. The women had accepted it, and Dante had eventually let his silly nicknames go. “What’s it today, Mori?” You ask, opening the letter. Inside was a stack of letters, bills, and invoices. You click your tongue. “Finances.”

“Yep,” Morrison said. “Your favorite pastime.”

“I’ll take care of it.” You plop down in your seat, tapping the power button of your computer. You’d insisted on getting one of these after Dante left after proclaiming that he was living “in the dark ages”. Trish and Lady had agreed with it, but progress was slow. Dante’s backlog of bills was still a problem that you were trying to solve. But with Lady and Trish’s help, you’d be all caught up in the next few months. 

And since you were the only one who lived here, you were very dedicated to making it as comfortable as possible. 

You often wondered if Dante would be proud of your work or laugh at you for trying too hard. 

“Have you eaten today, Rose?” Lady said after gulping down another slice. 

You waved her off. “I have enough sustenance.”

Lady snorted. “Out with the plants again?”

“Gotta keep the vine happy,” You said as you patted your chest. “And it’s not a big fan of pizza.”

“More for us,” Lady said with a grin, but it slipped away as you returned to your work. “Seriously though. You gotta take care of yourself. Can’t have you passing out on us again.”

You frown, not looking up. “That wasn’t my fault.” After V disappeared, you’d be left to navigate your powers alone. What you didn’t realize was that V had been providing a certain sustenance - demonic blood you later found out - and was redirecting a portion towards you through his familiars. Regular food only did so much, and you’d nearly died fighting off a pack of demons. Luckily, both Lady and Trish had been there for that mission and Trish guessed what had gone wrong. Now, you were careful to absorb any demonic essence you could find but often forgot to eat as food was bland and useless now. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You shrugged. “I’m fine.” And that wasn’t a lie. Not technically. You were fine, just not great. Nights were often lonely without the company, but you never complained. All you had to do was fall asleep at a good time and everything was fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Your version of “at a good time” had gotten progressively later as the weeks went on. You often found yourself lingering on the computer, aimlessly searching through things that didn’t interest you for that chance to find one thing that did.

Lady just shook her head, but her smile and relaxed posture returned. “That was almost convincing,” She said with a shrug. 

You smiled, glancing up over the monitor. “It’s as close to the truth as I can get.”

Lady hopped off the desk, reaching for Kalina Ann. “May as well patrol,” She said. “As exciting as those finances are…”

You waved her off. “Have fun.”

Lady rolled her eyes. “Always do!” 

Then, the door opened. 

Your head shot up in surprise. Lady sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Trish’s eyes narrowed as she leaned against the desk. A man in a red coat walked backward into the office. “... And you’re going to love it,” Dante said as he spun around. His eyes immediately darted between the three of you and he froze, caught between a genuine smile and a look of shock. Behind him stood a man you’d never seen before, but someone that was clearly related to Dante. If his hair were down and his face a little more grizzled, they’d be almost identical. When his gaze fell on you, it was stiff and uncomfortable. 

“Hello ladies,” Dante said with an awkward wave. “Long time no see.”

“Seven months!” Lady snapped. “And you gave the deed to Morrison!?” She looked ready to slap him, but you didn’t miss the weary gaze she gave the second man. “You brought him back?”

“Of course,” Dante said with a shrug. “He’s on our side now.”

You blinked. Now? What did that mean? Why wasn’t he before?

Wait…

“Where’s V?” You said, unable to contain the fear in your voice. The second man’s eyes narrowed as Dante’s gaze snapped to you.

“Sunshine…”

“Where is he?” You repeated, standing up. “He went into that tree with you. Why’s he…?” You trailed off, eyes widening. “No…” He couldn’t have… he promised…

“I’m sorry,” Dante said, his tone solemn. No one was looking at you. “But V… well the V you knew is… it’s complicated.”

“The V I knew?” You said. “What do you mean?”

Dante glanced at the girls, his eyes begging for help, but neither of them said a word. “Well you see… my dumbass brother Vergil here…” The other man scoffed, but Dante just glared at him before continuing. “He split himself in two.”

You blinked. “What?”

“His human half,” Dante said, putting his hands to one side. “And his demon half.” He moved to the other. “So V is…” He hesitated, then held both hands out toward Vergil. Wiggling them for extra effect. “Well… Tada!”

You stared at him, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Not one second of it. But the way the other man - Vergil - just stared at him was… disconcerting. This was V… but not V? How was that even possible?

Wait…

“Then what happened to his demon half?”

This time, you didn’t miss the pointed glances Trish and Lady gave each other or the pained look on Dante’s face. Vergil didn’t move, nor had his gaze left yours since he’d walked in the door. You pulled your jacket tight around yourself, trying not to let it bother you. “Well… You know that demon in the tree?” Dante said. 

The world seemed to freeze as your mind caught up to what he was saying. You closed your eyes, unable to hide the tears. “You mean… the one who put me in that… thing?”

“Rose...” Lady said. 

“Did you know?” You said. A pulse of pain emanated from your chest as everything snapped into focus. The feeling of life nearly overwhelmed you. The rose on your desk. The plants beneath the floorboards. The vines that had yet to dissipate nearby.  You could feel them, calling to you. Begging you to set them free. You swallowed, shoving the feeling back down. But you couldn’t stay here; the vine would nag at you until you gave in. And with your emotions breaking down…

“It happened to us too,” Trish said, her tone quieter than you’d ever heard. “But we made it out without… your affliction.”

Affliction. “But V saved me,” She said. “He’s the reason I’m alive… the reason I know how to use this.” She tapped her chest. 

“Use what?” Vergil said. 

You couldn’t help but glare at him, even through the ever-mounting tears. “You don’t remember?”

Vergil just stared at you and Lady groaned. “Of course not. That would be too simple.”

“Urizen got to her,” Dante said as a matter of fact. “Tied her up in some plant demon and wrapped a vine around her heart. Now she’s got demon powers.” He looked back at you. “And no one’s figured out how to get rid of the thing?”

“Not without killing her,” Trish said.

You choked back a sob, slamming your eyes shut again. No. You could still remember the voice of the demon in your head. That thing that had taken your body as its own host. 

You couldn’t do this.

You couldn’t bear to look at him. 

You darted for the door. Dante leaped out of the way, but the Vergil just stood there, stopping you short. “Move,”  You snapped, glaring at him. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t move. More tears slipped down your cheek. “Get out of my way,” You said. 

“What was he to you?” He said. 

“Shouldn’t you know?” You replied, bitter and resentful. “Since you were him or some nonsense?”

“She and V were close,” Trish said. You didn’t want to hear it, but you didn’t stop her either. “Like sharing the same room close.” You saw Vergil flinch and it only soured your mood even more. How dare he act like that. Did you really mean nothing to him? Did he really forget everything you and his… his what did?  His “other self”? His “human half”? Did V even exist anymore? Or were you just stuck with this asshole standing in front of you?

“Move,” You said.

Vergil watched you for a moment longer. His sharp blue eyes were unsettling. The power within you swelled unexpectedly. A harsh desire washed over you. A desire to prove… something. A desire to… to what? 

What was happening?

“Rose,” Lady said. “You need to breathe.”

“I need to leave,” You said. 

“Come on, Verge,” Dante said. “Let the girl go.”

Finally, Vergil stepped aside and you rushed out into the night. 

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

Lady found you half an hour later on a low rooftop surrounded by plants you’d raised from the ground before you crawled up there. You pulled more than usual tonight, cocooning yourself in vines covered in small, white flowers, giant sunflowers that had surprised you, and a couple of large roses fueled by your despair. Redgrave was destroyed already. Your plants just made it prettier. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you peered up at the moon through a small opening. 

“Can I join you?” Lady said.  You hummed noncommittally but tapped your fingers. Two of the vines fell away, opening a small door until she stepped inside. You used to do this with V, as it was a good practice of your control. Of course, you’d only managed a few plants with him. After months of your own practice, you’d gotten much better. 

Not that you showed it off to many people.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Lady said as she sat down beside you. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “To be honest, we weren’t sure what was going to happen. Dante had left to kill his brother, and V himself was deteriorating… as I’m sure you remember.” You nodded, but you didn’t look at her. “But we should have guessed Dante would find a way to save him. And he sure wouldn’t survive forever away from his beer and pizza.”

“And his friends,” you offered.

Lady snorted, but she smiled. “He was probably happy to be away from us for a while.”

You shrugged. “He’s probably glad to see you both again.” Your gaze lifted back to the moon. “Unlike V… Vergil.” The name was still bitter on your tongue and you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to saying it. You could imagine V right here, telling you the truth. How much you would have laughed with him over the very imaginative name he’d given himself before he would lull you to comfort with poems and Shadow’s purrs. How little you would have cared then. V was V. His own person. The man you…

You sighed. “Now what?” 

Lady was silent for a moment, eyes drifting to the moon. “I’m not expecting you to have the same feelings for Vergil that you did for V,” She said. You didn’t look at her as tears threatened to fall again. “V is a part of the whole, yes, but he isn’t… the whole.” Lady sighed. “It’s…”

“Complicated?” You said.

“Something like that,” She said. “Just don’t let him get to you.” She hesitated again, then sighed. “Last time we met… he wasn’t the nicest guy. But maybe he’s changed. Who knows?” She muttered something under her breath, but you only caught the words “I” and “wouldn’t”. Your heart sank at the implication. I wouldn’t trust him.

“What should I do then?” You said. “Just… accept it?”

“I don’t know,” She admitted. “But I wanted you to know that I’ll be here for you, okay? If you need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. “He’s really gone,” You whisper. As much as you knew V, you didn’t know Vergil. You didn’t even know if you could trust him. The sheer fact that he’d been the demon to seal you away, the very reason you had to give up everything you loved… was heartbreaking. How could you look at him the same? How could you see the man you’d grown to care for and ignore the awful things that had happened?

“Life’s never easy for people like us,” Lady said. 

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

[cherryblossomflowers]

dean winchester where she dealt with him going to hell

Moving Forward

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

Summary: This is set in Season 3. After getting possessed by Lillith and watching Dean get torn apart by a hellhound, YN must face the world without him.

Warnings: Cursing, Possession, Angst, Blood, Death, Slight Depression

A/N: Thanks @sutton2001 for the ask! This is a little bit longer of a one-shot than normal, but I just had to add the scene right before Dean's death. I literally listened to a clip of the Season 3 finale and tried my best to type the dialogue used. I also tried to make it more my own, so in this version, the reader is possessed by Lillith. But I hope you like it! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Dean: 30 Sam: 26 YN: 28

Here is the link to the YouTube clip I used: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFzzexz0qtI

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

Cherry Blossom Asks Masterlist

"Give me the knife, maybe I can fight it off," YN said to Sam.

Sam was confused by her boldness, "What?"

"Come on! That dust won't last forever," YN held her hand out to Sam for the demon knife.

Just as Sam was about to hand the knife over, Dean stopped him, "What?"

YN glared at Dean, dumbfounded, "You want to die?"

Sam turned around, questioning Dean's outburst.

YN stood tall with her hand still out to Sam.

Dean took a step back when he realized something, "Sam, that's not YN. It's not YN!"

When Sam turned back around to YN, he was pushed against the wall telekinetically, dropping the knife in the process. YN then telekinetically pushed Dean back until he fell against the table.

Dean sat up and stared at YN, "How long have you been in her?"

"Not long. But I like it," YN's eyes flashed white, revealing Lillith, "It's all grown up and pretty."

Sam growled, "And where's YN?"

"She was a very bad girl, trying to plead with me to save the love of her life. So I sent her far, far away in the back of her own mind," Lillith said, cracking her neck as he eyes returned to normal.

"I should've seen it before. But you all look alike to me," Dean voice was strained as he smirked, "Now get out of YN!"

Lillith smiled as she turned to Sam, "Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time."

Then she grabbed Sam's face and pulled him in for a kiss. Sam was trying to pull away from Lillith, but he was pinned against the wall.

Dean was trying everything he could to get up and grab Lillith, but he was stuck. It broke him seeing YN and Sam kiss, but he had to keep remembering it wasn't YN.

Lillith whispered to Sam, "Your lips are soft."

He kept trying to move away from her hand, but she kept petting his cheek.

Sam then said in a low voice, "Alright, so you have me. Let my brother and his girlfriend go."

Lillith smirked, "Silly goose. You want to bargain, you have to have something that I want. And you don't."

Dean took the opportunity to interrupt the two, "So is this your big plan, huh? Drag me to hell, kill Sam, and then what? Become queen bitch?"

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," Lillith winked at Dean.

She watched Dean struggled on the table as she walked towards the door were the hellhound sat waiting.

Right before Lillith opened the door, she smiled at Dean and said, "Sic 'em, boy."

The door opened and the hellhound sprinted over to Dean. Dean was then dragged off the table and on to the ground by the hound. Lillith stood laughing as Dean was screaming in pain.

The hellhound began ripping into Dean's body. His legs, his chest, his back, everything was gushing blood. Dean was screaming and yelling as the hound tore into him.

Sam yelled at Lillith, "No! Stop! No! Stop it!"

Lillith just stood and watched, laughing at Dean's misery and Sam begging her to call the hound off.

Dean had stopped yelling in pain as the hound ripped into his chest. Sam and Lillith watched as Dean was dying, and Sam could do nothing to stop it.

Sam just kept on yelling, "No! Stop it! No!" as he begged Lillith to stop.

Then Lillith raised her hand to Sam, "Yes," and a flash of light came from her hand, directed right at Sam.

The flash of light covered the room. Nothing could be seen.

After a while, the light began to fade away as Lillith stood tall with her white eyes. She lowered her hand as her eyes rolled back to YN's eyes.

What Lillith saw in front of her shocked her and scared her.

Sam sat cowering in a corner, unharmed by her blast. He looked up and noticed how worried Lillith looked. When he scanned his body, he took note that nothing happened.Slowly, Sam stood on his feet and walked towards Lillith.

She raised her hand at Sam, "Back!"

Sam took another step towards her, the anger clear on his face.

Lillith took a step back, scared of Sam, "I said back!"

Sam bent down, picked up the demon knife, and reared back, "I don't think so!"

Right before he could stab her with the knife, YN's mouth opened and she screamed as black smoke poured from her mouth. Lillith expelled herself from YN's body before Sam could kill her. Sam dropped the knife and took a step back, shielding himself.

When Lillith was gone from YN's body, she fell forward. Luckily Sam caught her before she fell too far. He slowly sat down with YN in his arms.

YN groaned in pain as she looked up at Sam, "S’mmy?"

Sam held her close and sighed, "Hey, YN. You okay?"

YN grabbed her head, "My head hurts," she squeezed her eyes shut before looking back at him, "What happened? Where's-"

Just then, YN turned her head and saw Dean. He was covered in blood, gashes all over his chest and legs. His right arm was limp on his stomach. A gasp escaped YN's lips as she covered her mouth.

She crawled out of Sam's lap and over to Dean. She sat behind him, lifting his head up and on to her lap. Dean's eyes were still open, but there was so sign of life in them. A sob was heard as tears poured down YN's face.

Sam stood up and walked over to Dean as well, sitting on his right. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and hung his head.

YN laid a hand on Dean's cheek and whispered, "No. No. Dean. Please, no."

Sam looked up at YN, teared pouring down his face, "YN, I'm so sorry."

YN sobbed as tear fell on to Dean's blood splattered face. Sam was crying just as hard as YN, both extremely sad at losing Dean.

YN looked up towards the ceiling, "We had a plan, Sammy. We were going to leave this life. We just had to find a way out of this. We just..."

Sam nodded, "I know. I know. He talked for hours and hours about how you two were going to live the ‘apple pie life’. You were going to find a house and settle down."

Then YN looked at Dean's jacket pocket, "What's that?"

Sam reached in Dean's pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it and a look of shock covered his face. He passed the box over to YN.

"I guess he wanted that ‘apple pie life’ more than I thought," Sam commented.

In the box was a beautiful diamond ring. After looking at the ring, YN started crying more.

Sam sat back and looked at YN, "We should...move him."

YN shook her head, "Not yet."

Sam stood up and began to walk out of the room, "I'm going to make a few phone calls. Take as long as you need," and left YN with Dean.

YN looked back down at Dean's body, "Dean, I'm so sorry. I should've done something, tried harder to find a way out. And now...y-you're gone," she wiped her eyes, "But I promise you, I'll do what we agreed. I'll live my life. I'll stay with Sam and we'll move on," she took the ring out of the box and put it on her left hand, "And I'll wear this everyday and never take it off. I'll never forget about you, Dean Winchester."

Four Months Later

While driving to her apartment in Lawrence, Kansas, YN is changing to Dean's AC/DC cassette tape. 5 grocery bags sat in the front seat next to a box of cassette tapes, YN's purse, and her phone. Her diamond engagement ring shined bright in the sunlight.

"Maybe I should buy a new radio for Baby," YN thought out loud as she hit play on the radio, "Then again, Dean's ass would haunt me if I did it."

She continued to drive down the highway, Back in Black blasting from the speakers. She reached down and grabbed her phone, seeing if Sam responded to her offer for dinner.

Once again, Sam was ignoring her.

Since Dean's death, Sam had moved on from the hunting life. He told YN to keep the Impala and do what she wanted with her life. They somewhat kept in contact, but she's only heard from him a handful of times since Dean died.

YN pulled into the parking lot of her complex, took her groceries from the front seat, and got out of the car. She locked it and walked towards her front door. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, welcoming the cool air and stepping away from the Kansas heat.

She shut the door with her foot and locked it behind her. She walked into her kitchen and set the groceries on the counter.

"Max, I'm home!" YN yelled in her apartment.

The sound of paws running down the hallway was heard as a German Sheppard ran into the kitchen.

"Hiya, Max! How's my good boy?" YN spoke to her dog.

Max barked in response as he tail wagged faster and faster.

YN reached into one of the grocery bags, "I got you something from the shop," and she pulled out a dog bone.

She handed it to Max, who ripped it from her grip and ran into the living room. YN laughed and put the groceries away.

After cleaning the kitchen a bit, she jumped over the back of the couch and sat down. She reached for the remote, turning on Dr. Sexy, M.D.

She leaned back against the couch and smiled at Max, who was lost in his own world with his new bone.

YN's eyes widened at the TV, "Hey, Dean! There's a new episode of..." she trailed off when she realized what she had said.

Even though it had been 4 months since Dean died, YN still couldn't fully move on.

Dean's clothes were hanging in her closet, she had pictures of the two of them on her walls, all of is guns and hunting stuff was still in the trunk, and she had his car sitting outside. It still felt like Dean was here.

And she didn't want to change that.

The only problem is she forgot from time to time that Dean wasn't actually there.

She sulked back into the couch with a sigh, "Hey Max?"Max looked up, panting and wagging his tail.

YN patted the spot next to her, "Come here, boy."

Max grabbed his bone and jumped on the couch next to YN. She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and laid it across her lap. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the cushions.

"I miss you Dean. I don't think you can actually hear me right now, but I've been missing you a lot lately. It's gotten harder since Sam stopped talking to me and I'm not really in contact with Bobby. It's just been me and Max," she stopped to pet Max for a bit, "But I'm keeping my promise and living my life. I started working at that bakery down the road. I know you knew how badly I wanted to get into baking. I've gotten really good in the last few weeks, minus that time I almost burnt the place down when I didn't set a timer for those cookies."

Max barked and stood to lick YN's face. This made her laugh and scratch his head more.

"But things have been going well. I'm still wearing the ring," she held up her hand, "It's gotten hard when people ask who I'm engaged to. I try to shrug it off, but it's difficult lately. Could you do me a favor? Send me a sign. Something. Let me know what I'm doing is right. Let me know if I should change things. Just tell me-"

Just then, YN's doorbell rang.

Max barked towards the door, but YN quickly shushed him. She took her pocket knife out of her back pocket and held it in her hand. She slowly stood up and walked towards the front door.

The chain lock was attached so she couldn't open the door all the way. She slowly opened the door and peeked her head around.

What she saw made her entire body numb.

"Dean?"

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @adorable-minibot @chessurkait

@idksupernatural @desiredposion @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma

@spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@emery--nicole--morrison @spnfamily-j2 @akshi8278

@wecantgiggleitsafandom

[sparrowwritesforobeyme]

NSFW Alphabet x Diavolos Dad

@fellulahh started a movement, which I fondly call “the devil daddy stan-squad”

It is very inspiring!

So to support this great developement...have some NSFW-Alphabet promts for Dias father.

(Since he is not an actual character in the game (yet!) none of this is remotely canon!I wish....hahah)

A-ftercare

This mass of a man is not used to real affection. He never took a real interest in anybody, neither did he have the time for that.

It actually takes him a while to open up, but even after he feels more comfortable with the relationship, his way of showing affection is more subtle.

For instance he will pull you into him in order to “straighten up the sheets” on your side of the bed. You can be sure that he will just not let you go again.

B-ody

Like his son, this man is huge.

The Demon King takes pride in his impressive height. He loves the way he tower over his lover wherever they go, but also in bed.

You could say that he has a decent size kink!

The thing he lovey about his lover would be their hips and butt.

I headcanon that he is a booty fan! Small booty, big booty, he approves!

You can be sure that his hands constantly leave prints on your deicate flesh from how hard he grabs you.

C-Cheesy

If you thinks that this man is all grim and moody...you are on the right path. He had an image to uphold!

But seriously...I believe that he has the ability to be Cheesy, at least with his lover.

Diavolo probably inherited it from his dad!

But his goofy side will not show during the act itself. Sometimes he´ll tease you during foreplay, but this man prefers passion over goofyness in bed.

D-irty Secret

Is this man the ruler of a whole realm? YES!

Does he enjoy to have his lover ride him once in a while? Hell Yes!

Please give this man the right to watch his lover be on top of him once in a while!

E-xperience

The demon lord is almost as old as time itself, to be fair, he spent a big amount of it in a slumber...but he gained experience.

Demons are just not able to resist temptations!

The Demon King puts his experience to use with his lover, he has a lot of great ways to make you loose control in the sheets (and probably every other surface of the palast)

F-avourite Position

finding positions during sex is quite difficult for the two of you.

while his height has many advantages....sex isn´t one of them

you actually tried quite a few ones, but many tries ended not as expected

Positions like 69 will simply not work out for the two of you

He actually went to the human work in secret and got a book for sex positions to find something that suits the two of you. He´´ll never admit it openly and you can´t deny that it did something to you when you caught him being engrossed in a book about “human mating” (it probably was a porno magazine..this man has no clue of human media), while sitting at his table, looking all serious.

If he feels more emotional, he´d want to spoon you during sex or sprawl you out on the bed in front of him. Looking at you during the deed is the epitum of intimacy to him!

after a while you found many position that work out for you.

His favourite ones include bending you over a piece of furniture or having you ride him.

G-oofy

The only time he´ll break his serious stance in the bedroom is during foreplay

He´ll tease you A LOT

“Hmmm...so wet for me already...quite desperate my love”

“cat got your tongue? How unfortunate...I came up with one or two ideas  how you could use it!”

H-air

The demons King strikes me as a rough type of handsome, but that does not mean that he just let´s everything grow wildly!

He always makes sure to groom his royal area to perfection.

Also he read about humans facination of the happy-trail...he makes sure to adapt

I-ntimacy

being intimate with the devil in person is quite a challenge sometimes.

He is very busy, but when he finds you, he´ll make sure to make up for it in any way you can imagine

Sex with the Demon King (he needs a name srsly) can be either extremely passionate or extremely intimate, this man does not make compromises!

One thing is clear...you are his Queen/Partner and he will make sure that you are satisfied, even if it means that he has to man up and share his deepest desires with you

J-ealos Sex? 

you´re in an entanglement with a King...he knows that there is no one better than him, at first sight at least.

He might have a hard time to admit it to himself, but sometimes he wonders whether he is really capable of making you fully content, since he has so little knowdledge of the human world and it´s culture.

This adorable mass of a man spents his free time listening to you or reading human-literature in order to fully grasp what humanity is about.

So if you actually went to the human world and there was a person that connected with you or talked about some human thing he is not able to understand just yet...he will get jealous.

How cam a peasant believe they can just walk up to the queen of devildome and pretent to be better than the King himself!

He absolutely will show you that he understands you and your body better than anybody else, when you get home,( or in a secluded area nearby)

K-ink

like already mentioned he loves the size difference. It does not matter whether you are tall or short, in comparision you are tiny, also you should not forget that he can influence his human form and he may or may not make sure that he hovers over you at all times.

Demons have their own way of showing affection to their chosen one, one these ways is marking their partner

The Demon King would proudly show off his partner plus lovebites he left on them.

If his partner is a female the next stage for him would be breeding. I can see him getting exited by the thought of seeing his woman swelling with his son growing inside of her, showing the world that she is his.

L-ocation

What use does a palace have if you can´t use it?

He´ll want to sleep with his partner in any place they can imagine, but his favourite places, would be either his throne (serious powerplay...just imagine you riding him, while he sits on his massive throne) or your shared bed (because he knows that you´re most comfortable this way)

M-otivation

Many things get the King going, but his absolutely biggest trigger is you being the Partner/Queen you are.

Seeing you tending to Devildomes Subjects with love and care will make him want to sweep you off of your feet and carry you to your shared bedroom.

Another thing that gets him going is praise. When you call him “my King”, “Your majesty” or simply “love”....you are in for a ride

N-O

What he absolutely would not do is having a threesome with anybody, especially not Diavolo!

Another thing he´d not even want to try is BDSM on him or you. He can get a bit rough with you, but he is scared to hurt you too much if you tried implementing pain in your sex life.

His sadism is dangerous sometimes.

O-ral

He just adores the sounds you make when he goes down on you ang god---- he is skilled!

He likes receiving just as much as giving.

Watching you go down on him, clearly having a hard time taking all his glory in, will make him painfully hard in your mouth.

P-ace

His pace depends on his mood and the situation that lead to sex.

If the two of you jokes around and indulged in a more playful kind of sex, he would be on the faster side, relishing in the lovely souns he can get out of you

If the two of you have a more passionate session, he would take his time and force every little bit of pleasure out of you.

Q-uicky

Due to the time issue Quickies are normal for the two of you, though he prefers to make you scream all night.

Usually Quickies re some sort of teaser to prepare you for whats going to happen this night.

Saying that it happened once or twice that a Quick Round activated his hunger, poor Diavolo( and Lucifer) had to take care of all the work, because the King himself had a meeting to attent

Of course they know his true intention and tbh it´s still hard for them to accept that their friend is now the partner of the Demon King himself, especially since they both showed an interest in you as well

R-efraction Period

a matter of minutes..demons have just more stamina than humans do.

But he will make sure to stop, when you can´t take it anymore!

S-ecret

He was aware of you way before he officially “awaked”

after a while he fell for you, only after that he decided to make a move and claim you as his

The Demon King was aware of his sons plans and watched it all unfold (not being happy at all) but you piqued his interest.

“A weak human making pacts with some of the strongest demons of Devildome?”

T-oys

The Demon is old-fashioned, he prefers to be the the thing giving his lover pleasure, not some damn piece of plastic

Also he is not advanced in technical knowledge, it was quite a shock to him to wake up to a modern devildome

U-nfair

BIG TEASE

it goes hand in hand with his powerplay-kink

the King just loves to see you loose your mind, almost begging for him. It does wonders for his ego!

V-olume

Entirely depends on the situation you guys are in

W-ild Card

Usually he just grunts or groans, but if you have a particularly passionate session, he´ll press orders to his theeth

“Shi- look at me! Don´t look away!”

“Tease me one more time and I´ll make sure you won´t walk for the rest of the week, lttle one”

He enjoys having you nearby at all times, even during work. Usually when he works you lay on a couch in his study and do shoolwork or read, etc

He´ll get moody if you can´t be there due to you having a life outside of the palace and friends.

He wouldn´t say it out loud, but he is slightly jealous that the demon brothers get to spent so much time with HIS Partner

X-Ray

Oh Boy...not saying numbers, but it takes some time to prepare you. This man does not only have big hands...

Y-earning

The Demon King can be needy behind closed doors

From the outside he appears cold....angry at best, but when you´re alone he yearns for his lovers affection.

He´s touch deprived, even if he´s had some...company in the past, it was never on a real intimate level.

This is completely new terrain for him, so he needs to learn how stop the intense craving for you

Z-zzz 

He slept centuries...he needs no sleep

The King knows that you need your sleep and he makes sure you get enough, but as soon as you fall asleep after a rather long session of love-making, he impatiently waits for you to wake up, slowly falling asleep after pulling you close to him.

[langdxn]

salvation part iii: bloody angel | outpost!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Michael’s pregnant wife meets a familiar face in the Outpost. Is she in danger?

WARNINGS: SMUT. Breeding kink, vaginal sex, fingering, pregnancy, childbirth, blood play, blood ritual, dom!Michael, daddy!Michael, some soft!Michael, angst, messing with the original plot. Basically it’s filthy.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

A/N: I promised serious smut in this chapter and I delivered like HELL. Heavily influenced by Avatar’s Bloody Angel I’ve had stuck in my head for days.

part i // part ii // part iv // part v

Every corridor in the underground Hawthorne Outpost looked identical to the last. You’d been half-running down so many twists and turns, you’d surely escaped the perimeter where that authoritative female voice had come from.

Find our sisters. What was that supposed to mean? Were there witches in the Outpost already? Everybody was dead, or at least you’d seen enough bodies to assume that was everybody this Outpost once housed.

That means someone’s coming to search the Outpost.

Time to pick a door in these endless alleyways and hide out until you hear the signal Michael warned you about.

Noticing the door at the far end of the corridor ahead of you had been left slightly ajar, warm yellow light pouring through the portal, it seemed as good a hiding place as any. Pacing nervously toward the light, you creaked the door open as softly as possible and clicked it shut behind you. Allowing your eyes to adjust to the gentle candlelight in the room, your eyes laid upon a large pentagram scrawled on the tiled floor in blood encircled by shallow, spent candles seconds away from extinguishing.

Leaning back against the door behind you, you slid your spine down its rough surface to drop to the floor, landing a curious finger into the pool of maroon scribbles. As your fingertip made contact with the blood, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a surreal vision appeared before you.

“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael’s voice beckoned in your mind as the overbearing scent of copper stung your senses. “May your darkness guide me.”

Your vision painted a clear picture of Michael kneeling dead centre of the bloody diagram, completely naked but for fresh streams of crimson trailing down his pale skin, dipping into the curves of his muscles and scoring rough lines down his biceps. Desperation dappled across his countenance as his brows furrowed with confusion, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking a point to focus on.

“Power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses, power in your name to be strong within,” he chanted with purpose, with fervour, with determination as he coursed the blade down his arteries. A harsh groan died on his lips as the knife deftly split open the delicate flesh on his forearm, pouring a cascade of blood onto the tiles beneath him.

“I thought I destroyed them all. One survives. I found her, she’s here.” Your eyes widened in horror.

“I beg for your wisdom. Please, Father, open my eyes!” your husband cried helplessly into the void, scouring the sky for a sign, any sign that his calls were being answered.

Your vision darted around the room as you wracked your brains for answers. How did he know you were a witch? You had spent all your years by his side blocking every single one of your powers from him.

When a woman named Cordelia Goode knocked on your door to offer you salvation in the form of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies well over a decade ago, you slammed the door in her face. You resented your ‘gift’ of sight, your ‘talent’ for conjuring spells, your ‘flair’ for the supernatural. You were a stubborn adolescent who saw no attraction in spending your teenage years among other witches, helping each other identify their powers, harness their abilities. High school was traumatic enough without your enemies having the ability to snap your neck with a flick of their obnoxious teenage bangs.

Had your husband really worked out who you were, or was he talking about another witch? If he suspected you, why was he so kind to you earlier? You’d pushed every thought of your powers back into the dark recesses of your mind, how could he possibly find them if he couldn’t even predict your arrival in the Outpost? His powers were pointless around you, your own talents so guarded that even the Antichrist felt disarmed by you.

Your vision snapped back into the delicately lit room, the pentagram empty of Michael’s naked form. Instinctively grasping at your bump at the morbid thought of how much blood your love had lost in this ritual, you traced the raised pattern of scars scored across your unborn baby’s home.

———

“Fuck, Michael I’m gonna—“ your walls constricted around Michael’s length, plunged so deep inside you that you swore you could feel his cock all the way up in your throat. You snaked your legs around his waist and trailed both arms around his neck, begging him to embrace you as you give in to your climax.

“No you’re not, Mrs Langdon,” Michael slowed his thrusts inside you to an agonisingly glacial pace as your arms dropped from his shoulders, a wanting cry dripping off your tongue as you lost contact. “Daddy’s not finished with you yet.”

Michael reached across you to the bedside cabinet for his elegantly carved ceremonial knife, a determined grin dancing across his lips. He pointed its glistening blade toward your stomach and gazed down at you from beneath his menacing eyebrows, searching for your approval for his next move. You strained to nod between frantic, anticipating pants and dropped your head back to the sheets beneath you, grabbing fistfuls of the blood red silk pooling around your entwined forms.

A sharp, cool sensation traced across your bare abdomen, replaced swiftly by a searing heat as your flesh ripped tenderly beneath the blade. Michael’s cock twitched inside you as your insides tightened around his length, bucking your hips up into him and scratching down his thighs between your legs as the knife tickled and turned you on at the same time.

Chuckling under his breath at your desperate search for friction, Michael drew skilful straight lines connecting to each other over your bare skin, his tongue darting across his full lips as he concentrated.

“Now what does that greedy little cunt of yours want daddy to do now?” He hissed down over you, leaning his head as he inspected each angle of the angry wounds adorning your abdomen. His work had to be perfect or the ritual wouldn’t succeed.

“Please daddy,” was all you could muster as the metallic scent of fresh blood flooded your senses and dried out your mouth. Apparently that wasn’t enough communication for your husband, as he dug the knife deeper into your abdomen making you hiss against your clenched teeth.

“I didn’t quite hear you darling, what was that?”

“Please breed me, daddy,” your back arched as you finally said the words out loud. Those intimate words had danced around your mind ever since the first time you made love, when Michael placed a flat, expectant palm across your abdomen and a smile spread along his expressive lips. It was an unspoken engagement between you that he would one day ask you — or rather demand you — to help him rebuild the world in his father’s design. That being said, you never thought past the act of conception, never prepared yourself for a pregnancy or childbirth, you simply assumed that would come naturally to you when the time came.

“Good girl,” he praised in his typical pseudo-demeaning manner he reserved for the bedroom. After engraving a final circular motion, he wiped away the emerging crimson beads to follow the pattern scored into your stomach, leaning back to admire his work. Carelessly casting the knife across the room, he let out a pornographic growl as he took in the sight of you - his beautiful wife, legs spread wide open beneath him, his cock buried balls deep inside you, your stomach bleeding feverishly and your walls jolting with pleasure around him.

You lifted your head to look down to his scrawls, discovering a shallow pentagram scored into your abdomen, coursing veiny trails of crimson across your skin. Your eyes blazed a trail of pure ecstasy up his body to meet his pitch black irises, wanting and demonic. He leaned down to tower over you, bracing himself with both fists on the bed, allowing him the freedom to slowly drive his cock into you again.

“Now, where were we?” He seethed as he carefully increased the tempo of his length slithering into your folds. “Oh yes, you were about to cum, weren’t you angel?”

The tip of Michael’s cock grazed your sensitive spot with intent, as if he could instinctively aim for it whenever he needed you to climax all over him. The g spot was no thing of wonder to the Antichrist, simply a button he knew he could push whenever the occasion called for it. Rolling his hips effortlessly into you, pounding your pussy so hard the filthy sounds of slapping, sweaty skin echoed through your bed, the floorboards and even the chandelier above you.

Noticing your back arching involuntarily towards him and your arms snaking around his back to claw your nails down his spine, Michael knew you were close but he couldn’t hold his own orgasm much longer.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me like a good little whore.”

With a fervent twitch, his cock pulsed deep inside you and spilled his release against your walls. Meeting his pitch black gaze, the sight of your husband convulsing as he came and the sensation of your walls fluttering against his twitching length set the fire inside you ablaze as your nails scratched deeper into his back.

“Just like that baby, let daddy fill up your pretty little cunt.”

With a final thrust of his load deep inside you, you unleashed an animalistic moan signalling your own climax, your eyes retreating to the back of your head and your legs constricting tightly and shaking uncontrollably around him. Riding out your orgasms together, he slipped both arms under your back and raised you up to meet him in a tight, loving embrace.

“I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he reassured you in his effortlessly seductive tone that could have easily set you into orgasm all over again. Peppering delicate kisses around your collarbone and tracing up to your ear, his breath burning against your skin, Michael sighed gently and swung his head back to look you deep in the eyes. His effortless transition from dominant demon to sympathetic lover never ceased to surprise you, blinking his piercing black eyes closed for them to return to his dreamy azure irises once again. In the blink of an eye, he morphed into the tender human being you fell in love with, the romantic man you married and for whom you sold your soul.

“Did I hurt you baby?” He placed a gentle hand down to your wounds, the congealing blood sticking to his palm as you shook your head weakly. You tried to lose yourself in the tender moment between you but you couldn’t ignore the seeping feeling between your folds, the obscene mixture of both of your releases slowly flowing out onto your legs.

“Lie back down for me,” he cooed as he gestured you down onto the crimson sheets. Crawling on top of you once more, he leaned down to plant a searing kiss on your abdomen: defiled, marked, owned. Working his way down between your legs, Michael dipped two ringed fingers into the fluids dripping down your thighs and slipped them back inside your folds.

“Can’t have any of this going to waste when we’re building the new world, can we angel?”

———

Fingertips following the twists and turns of the scar tissue across your bump, you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door you were pressed up against. Decidedly male, you convinced yourself those footsteps were Michael’s, coming to look for you, to help you. You scrambled to your feet and yanked the heavy door open, searching the corridor ahead for any sign of your husband’s golden curls. As you turned to look down another corridor, your breath was knocked out of your chest as you bumped into a torso, getting a face full of a dark, torn raincoat.

Placing your palms on the body in front of you to steady yourself, your gaze darted up to see the face of the person who just knocked into you. A boil-ravaged man’s face framed by a dark beard and straggly brown hair with a drastically receded hairline. His eyebrows were singed, his eyes exhausted and world-weary. You’d seen faces just like his while making the treacherous journey to Outpost 3 - cancer from the blast, lesions, hair damage that looked like that of a chemotherapy patient. This man was lucky to be alive at all.

Stunned and apologetic, he seemed to look right through you, as if you weren’t who he expected.

“Are — are you okay?” He queried, looking down your figure until he noticed your unmistakable bump filling the space between you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied meekly. “Are you?” You raised your hand to touch a deep, angry wound on his cheek, but he quickly swatted your hand away.

“Please, don’t touch me, you’ll harm that one,” he pointed down to your bump. Your kind heart hadn’t thought twice about the harm this man’s radiation could do to you and your unborn child, but that still didn’t drive you to step away from him.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” he defended as if he had spent his whole life apologising for his actions. “I’m looking for someone.” 

Your gaze searched down his person for any giveaway signs that could help you identify him or who he was looking for. He didn’t look like a Cooperative member or an Outpost resident that found his way outside, but the glint of a blood-stained knife in his left hand suggested he wasn’t wandering the Hawthorne corridors for peaceful purposes.

“They’re all dead, everybody is dead.” You surprised yourself with your bluntness, your vision and concerns for your husband somehow outweighing your concern for the bodies you’d just left in the Hawthorne common room.

Suddenly, you felt a warm, uncomfortable sensation seep between your legs. Grasping at your bump, both you and the man looked down to see a flow of clear water burst from beneath your dress. Your eyes met each other’s again, this time in sheer panic.

“Oh fuck, it’s coming, the baby’s coming!” You wailed, bracing yourself against the cold wall as your mind went hazy. You’d been preparing for this moment for nine months but no amount of parenting books read by the warm glow of Michael’s office fireplace could prepare you for this.

The tall, dark stranger placed a sympathetic arm lightly on your shoulders, resting safely on the cape draping over your form.

“Come on, we need to get you somewhere comfortable,” he leaned down to you, guiding you toward the door behind you but you held your ground with all the strength you had left.

“No, no, not in there, let’s try here,” you desperately pointed across the hall.

Throwing your weight through an adjacent door with a stumble, you nearly tripped over a tin bathtub in the centre of the room. Filled half full with still, crystal clear water, the circular tub reminded you of Michael’s promise to keep a birthing pool in the Outpost for you.

How on earth had you landed upon the one door that led to Michael’s quarters? The coincidence would’ve seemed uncanny if you hadn’t been shocked out of your thoughts by a strong muscular spasm in your bump.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, causing the man propping you up to jolt and look down at your bump, concern washing over his face, barely noticing that he’d dropped the blade in his other hand while trying to grasp at your dress to help you.

“C—contractions, they’re sta—starting already,” you panted, clutching at your belly in a desperate bid to tell the baby inside to slow down. Leaning your weight onto the stranger’s broad shoulders, you heaved yourself over the rim of the tin bath and eased yourself down to lay in the lukewarm water. Your cape floated either side of you while you positioned yourself comfortably, legs spread wide and your heavy waterlogged skirt hitched up to your hips. In looking up to thank him for his assistance, you clocked the fear in the man’s eyes and the shake in his hands as he bent over you beside the pool.

“Look, before I give birth in front of a total stranger, my name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You panted through strained breaths, determined to know the identity of the mysterious male who would soon become your (decidedly unwilling) birthing partner.

“Brock, my name’s Brock,” he replied shakily, his terrified gaze fixed on you and gasping for breath whenever you jolted with a contraction. His face suggested he was in more pain than you were through your labour. Despite your predicament, you realised in that moment that you’d have to be the voice of reason for you both.

“Nice to meet you, Brock. Now listen, I can’t guarantee your safety in here. It’s up to you if you want to stay with me, but it won’t be long before I start screaming the place down and the witches find us.”

“Wha—is this the labour talking? Did you just say fucking witches?”

As you muttered an incantation under your laboured breath, a heavy armchair hovered across the room and landed behind the door, propping it shut from the inside.

“Yes, Brock, fucking witches.”

——————————————————————

Tag, you’re it! @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @psychobitchtess​ @theinevitableprophecy @leatherduncan @abbyjforman​ @melodylangdon 🖤

[hellzeldagirlsfanfic]

You Can Only Use Me

This was inspired by minteyeddemon’s Choice of ‘toys’ used in bedroom headcanons, [Link].

***

Waiting. That all (Y/N) seem to do. Vergil, the man she loves, always left her alone for long periods of time. Which was frustrating for her, mentally and physically. Being loyal to Vergil meant getting creative to satisfy herself.

Evening had finally come and (Y/N) had finished dinner, now it was some ‘me time'. Retrieving the box filled with her toys that were hidden away in the draw that was built-in to her bed. Vergil didn't hate sex toys but preferred not to use them since all she needed was him. But Vergil wasn't here and she needed to release her frustration.

Stripping herself of her clothes. (Y/N) set herself down at the top of the bed with her back against the headboard. (Y/N) slowly trailed her hand up to breasts, her nipples had already gone hard from the cold air in her apartment. Taking the mound of flesh in her hand with the hardened bud between her fingers, the woman began to massage it.

Whilst one hand was occupied with her breast the other travelled down to her thighs, to her womanhood. (Y/N) found her clit and using her index finger began to draw small circles around the bundle of nerves. A moan of pleasure escaped the woman. It wasn't long before the finger dipped into her hole. A second then a third finger soon join her index finger in pleasuring herself.

Soon (Y/N) felt her orgasm coming but she didn't want to cum yet. Unfortunately for her, she had taken out her fingers out of herself. But it was quickly replaced with her vibrating dildo. Rubbing the toy against her folds, lubing it up. (Y/N) rubbed the dildo against her clit before pushing it into waiting hole.

A moan escapes the woman when the object entered her. A few thrusts in, (Y/N) turned on the dildo brings her immense pleasure. The sex toy vibrates against her walls in all the right places. With the toy, she manages to hit her G-spot.

“Ahhh, ” (Y/N) moaned.

She imagines that the dildo was Vergil's hard member thrusting into her.

“Vergil, ” (Y/N) whimpered, she was really missing that man.

Her orgasm had finally built up again. Her hand that wasn't thrusting the dildo into her, found its way back to her breasts. Taking the flesh back into her grasp and began to massage it again. (Y/N) buried her face into the soft pillow next to her with her eyes scrunched closed. With few hard thrusts (H/C) walls clamped around the toy as she finally cum.

“Vergil, ” she breathlessly called as she cum.

Her eyes were still closed as she pulled out the dildo and turned it off. Taking a couple of deep breathes to calm her racing heart before she opened eyes.

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to the door opposite the bed. Tried (E/C) eyes meet the vivid blue eyes. (Y/N) stared at those blue eyes for a brief moment for realising who they belonged to.

(Y/N) let out a scream and jumped back on the bed. The person who was watching was the man she was calling to during her session of pleasure, Vergil.

He was lending on the wall that was next to the door, his arms crossed in front of him. He was staring at (Y/N) with no hint of any emotions in his beautiful eyes or on his handsome face.

Oh God, her whole body felt like it was burning from embarrassment.

“V-V-Ver-Vergil!” (Y/N) somehow managed to stutter out. “h-how, how lon-” she couldn't finish her sentence as Vergil cut her off.

“Long enough to see how desperate you are, my dear, ” the half-demon stated as he pushed himself of off the wall he was lending against. He stalked his way to his lover, slowly taking off his signature blue jacket, sleeveless vest and cravat which he threw on a chair that was near the bed.

(Y/N) goggled at the man in front of her. It didn't matter how many times she had seen Vergil shirtless, he was gorgeous as the first time he had removed his vest for her.

On the realisation that Vergil was coming closer (Y/N) tried to scoot the furthest she could on the bed without falling off. Which was a hopeless attempt.

Vergil easily reached the bed in a few steps. He quickly reached out, grabbing (Y/N)’s ankle and pulling her closer to him.

‘Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!’ (Y/N)’s mind screamed as she noticed the dangerous look of lust that was building up in his eyes. ‘I’m getting a serious punishment' her mind wept. This inherently wasn't was a bad thing. Sex with Vergil was extremely pleasurable but he was brutal on her body, denying her orgasm multiple times along with his fast and hard thrusts which left her body sore and unable to walk for the next couple of days are some of the things he could do to her.

His hand was still on her ankle when her body got close to his. The another went to her knee of the opposite leg, opening her up for him. Vergil gazed lustfully at her dripping womanhood.

(Y/N)’s face felt like it was going to burn off from embarrassment. Bringing her hands to her face, (Y/N) tried to hide her embarrassment but this only drew Vergil’s gaze to her face.

A smirk grew on his lips, knowing that he was the only person in the world that could change this normally proud and confident woman into a blushing and stuttering girl.

Vergil brought his face to her ear. He took notice that her embarrassed blush had reach ears and neck.

“What's wrong my dear?” he whispered into her ear, his breath causing her a shiver to go down her spine. “I thought this what wanted?” he continued to taunt the woman underneath him.

Vergil brought his hips down on her, grinding their intimate parts together. This resulted in a whimper from the woman underneath.

“I’m disappointed (Y/N). Using a toy to satisfy yourself,” Vergil sneered.

“Who’s fault was that!?” (Y/N) yelled. “If my lover didn’t fucking leave me for long periods may I wouldn’t need the of used a sex toy to satisfy!” She angrily ranted.

The smirk continued to grow on his handsome on his face.

During the time (Y/N) was yelling at the man above her, she had removed her hands from her burning face. Vergil’s head dived down, his lips smashed into (Y/N)’s. Silencing his lover angrily ranting.

(Y/N) melted into the kiss, forgetting the previous angry towards Vergil. The kiss was heated and passionate. The kiss accessed in a few moments as Vergil demanded entrance to her mouth but she didn’t give it to him. Growling at her defiance, Vergil reached down to her ass giving it a good squeezed which resulted in a yelped. With her mouth open, Vergil took the opportunity to invade (Y/N)’s mouth. Their tongues dance together in their passionate kiss.

(Y/N) broke the kiss needing the air but it was a brief moment. Vergil didn’t give her much time to take in the air before he covered her lips up with his.

Vergil grew bored of (N/Y)’s lips and moved his lips to her neck. He bites, licked and left his mark across (S/T) flesh of his lover’s neck but he misses all of her sweet spots. This was apart of her punishment.

Vergil moved away from her neck trailing kisses between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach all the way down to her womanhood.

The half-demon came face to face with the still soaking wet entrance. Vergil lightly ran his tongue across her lower lips. (Y/N) was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, as a result, she moaned loudly at his light lick. Vergil a few more light licks before he plunged his tongue into her desperate entrance, thrusting fast.

(Y/N) began a moaning mess under her lover’s tongue. It wasn't long until (Y/N) felt close to cumming. As she was on the brink of cumming Vergil pulled away, earning a dissatisfied whimper from (Y/N).

A deep chuckle left Vergil's throat as glace an upon his lover’s face as he rose from her sensitive cunt. The desperate look graced her face with her eyes pleading for him to let her cum.

Lending down once again to pull (Y/N) back into a passionate kiss. This time (Y/N) obediently opened her mouth to him. They tongues dance together.

Another whimper left the female as she felt Vergil's finger lightly run across her lower lips. A finger traces around her clit. Now that she was over sensitive from nearing cumming.

The finger soon grew bored with the clit. It wandered down to (Y/N)’s entrance, it dipped into. It was thrust into shallowly her at an agonisingly slow pace. (Y/N) whined at Vergil for torturous actions.

He removed himself from his lover's lips to watch her face as his fingers torture her.

“Vergil,” she whined when once again came near her orgasm. “Please!” (Y/N) desperately begged to Vergil, which only resulted in a raise of an eyebrow. “Please Vergil, please let me cum,” she panted.

“You want to cum?” he inquired. (Y/N) nodded furiously in response. “Fine”

He throws her down on to the bed, earning another whimper from (Y/N). Glancing at half-demon now towering above her. He made no movement to unleash his erection from the confines of leather trousers. Instead, he reaches over to the discarded toy.

Vergil turned on the dildo to its fullest power before thrusting into her. The pace he set was brutally fast. In no time at all (Y/N) could feel the coil of her orgasm building up again. But (Y/N) down want to cum from the toy that being thrust into her but from Vergil’s dick. She wanted to feel his length brushing against her walls, she wanted to clamp around his member.

“Vergil,” (Y/N) cried out, trying to catch his attention but he was purposely ignoring her.

After repeated cries for him to stop, (Y/N) gave up. Not long after she felt the coil break and finally came, screaming Vergil’s name.

A few tears ran down (Y/N)s (S/T) face. Vergil pulled the toy out of the female under him, earning him a whimper. He throws the toy of to the side then moving to leave the room leaving his lover naked and tried on the bed.

Or that what he would of done if (Y/N) didn’t grabbed the top of his trousers.

“We’re not done here,” She growled, staring with a deadly look in her eyes.

“I can reassure you that we are,” Vergil bit back.

A growled left (Y/N) as lunged at him. Wrapping her arms around his neck then proceeding to throw him back onto the bed. In that brief moment (Y/N) manage to saddled herself on Vergil’s lap.

“When I said I wanted to cum, I wanted to cum around your cock not some toy,” (Y/N) told him. “I guess its time for me to get a bit of payback,” She stated as sank down between Vergil’s legs.

The half-demon just watched her as she freed his erection. It sprang up from the dark confined of his trousers. Her (E/C) eyes filled with lust at the long length in front of her. (Y/N) licked her lips before she genteelly kissed the head of weeping cock.

(Y/N) placed a few more kisses on the head then she slowly circling her tongue. She continued to place kisses along the shaft until she reaches the balls then licked all the way back to the head. (Y/N) kept repeating these acts until she felt Vergil fisting her hair. With a heavy sigh (Y/N) took the man's member into her mouth, not wanting him to accidentally hurt her.

(Y/N) kept her pace slow and refusing to take him into her throat to further annoy Vergil. She pressed her tongue against bulging vein pulsing on the underside of his cock which errant a strangle moan from the man above. To give him the full package (Y/N) started to massage his balls.

Vergil’s breaths became laboured, informing (Y/N) that he nearing his end. Hallowing out her cheeks in anticipation of getting a load of Vergil’s seeds.

Then when (Y/N) felt Vergil on the edge he ripped her off his cock. She then found herself face down on the bed with a fist in her hair forcing her face into the mattress. Her arse up in the air, leaving open for Vergil to roughly thrust into her.

(Y/N) nearly scream out her moan as Vergil entered but the pace wasn’t better. He was hammering into her, hitting all of her sweets spots. It didn’t take long for (Y/N) orgasm to build up again and shortly cum squeezing the shaft inside of her. But Vergil resisted the urge to join his lover, he just on continued on, growling at the feeling of woman’s tight cunt.

(Y/N) was pulled by her hair by Vergil. Her back met Vergil’s chest. Said man brought his lips to (H/C)’s ear.

“This is what want you wanted?” He growled.

“Yes! Yes!” She chanted. She looked behind to look at Vergil. His had fallen down giving him an innocent look. “Vergil (Y/N) panted. “I’m-Im going to cum again. Please join me,” She begged.

Vergil didn’t give her answer just pulling her into a messy kiss.

With a few more thrusts, (Y/N) cum for the last time with the warm of Vergil’s seeds filling her womb.

The two of them collapse onto the bed with Vergil on top on (Y/N). Vergil was the first one to catch his breath so he moves them to properly rest on the bed, his head on the pillow with (Y/N)’s resting on his chest.

“Will you get rid of those toys,” Vergil demand tiredly as he pulled the bedcover over them.

“Only if you agree to visit me more, ” she hummed.

Growls could be heard coming from the man but there was swiftly silenced by his lover then they peacefully fall asleep.