#(of course x is the most human out of all of his creations

[dilutedbeanibeans]

hello!

do you have any elecman hcs?

hiyo!!!!!!!

yes I do!! not a whole lot tho so bear with me

- out of all the lightbots he has the sharpest and pointiest nose, most of them have rounded noises to resemble dr light (they’re his kids. guys. Guys.

- his singing voice is TERRIBLE he’s only sung to one other person (roll) and he hasn’t since out of embarrassment. he works on his singing voice whenever he has a chance

- (this kind of goes into my dr light making his bots as human as he can hcs) being the 8th bot he has 8 little beauty marks on his face :] (MOST OF THEM ARE HIDDEN BY HIS MASK UNFORTUNATELY

- weirdly allergic to animals, at some point when he had to work with fuse he accidentally inhaled some rabbit hair and did the most viscous sneeze, the power almost went out in the city

- has a pun book stashed somewhere (honestly which robot master doesn’t have stupid puns

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiiii can you do a jealous Alastor but not of anyone but his own shadows bc his wifey takes a liking on one of his shadows.

Oooh! I like this quite a lot! It’s very interesting and unique! Once again, beloved hubby Alastor! Another one I want to explore hubby of is Blitz. I think Blitz would make a good hubby

Alastor- Picking Favourites

Alastor’s furious, steaming from his deer-like ears so hot that it’s basically boiling him… did somebody hurt his ego? No. Did Angel Dust sexually advance on him again? No. Did his breakfast get interrupted by the Hotel Manager? NO. Nothing has inconvenienced him but something awful has been happening, day by day, that he can barely keep his composure

Hearing your laughter directed at something else felt like a puncture stab wound to his throat, but knowing your laughter is directed at his mere sentient shadow basically gutted him in the stomach with a sharp butcher knife right after. You’re his wife, his missus, his realm, the woman he has been fawning over for so long and you’re hitting it up with his sentient silent shadow?!

Of course, Alastor’s fascinating lively shadow is just being nice to it’s master’s recently wedded spouse, and is trying to get you accustom to being around so much Voodoo magic and the weirdness that is Alastor himself so it’s being all caring and leading you about, showing you items and teaching you Alastor’s favourite foods

But that doesn’t mean Alastor isn’t jealous… because he is, he’s really jealous

Whilst he reads through a interesting crime fiction novel, Alastor’s tall fluffy deer-like ears flick up at the sound of your voice. He can’t sense his voodoo-magic induced shadow, meaning that it’s wondered off to you and as he suspected, you enter your husband’s soothingly silent fireplace-warmed accompanied by Alastor’s sentient shadow. It cant really talk but it makes all kinds of humming and echoey noises. It almost seems like you understand it…

Alastor’s patience, throughout every time he hears this, has finally shattered to pieces as his claws dig into the book in his hand, snapping his fingers. The shadow directly mirroring your husband’s look, fades away into thin air as if it was a big fire and a bucket of water was dumped on the top of it, rising up into streams of smoke. It’s gone and you’re confused on why it disappeared

“Darling. Why are you getting so handsy with my friend?”

Alastor almost growls out with his deep scowl… this is possibly the first ever time you and Hell will ever see Alastor frown and frown so deeply he is… it’s kinda unnatural to look at but when Alastor willingly frowns and can’t pull himself to smile, it means he is more than pissed off… you didn’t think just being polite and going along with your husband’s voodoo magic shadow being would ever cause a problem

It’s just that Alastor’s love for you is so strong that it causes jealousy to concur and even jealousy over just some magic creating a shadowy being. Something that is sentient but mainly tied to it’s owner, to Alastor and he is jealous of his own creation

Approaching your beloved husband, the Radio Demon, you lean over, pushing back his somewhat messy crimson red bangs and kisses directly over the pale red almost bullet-sized ‘x’ on the flesh of his forehead. That ‘x’ is the biggest weak spot on Alastor, a symbol of his shame and where his pride can be hurt the most but he doesn’t mind showing off all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities to you… he had already told you about his human life

What’s one little kiss on that ‘x’ going to do?

Pulling back. It’s almost like the single kiss had melted away all his anger and Alastor is now just a soft innocent fluffy little fawn with his crimson red eyes almost sparkling at the affection. He didn’t suspect that, he suspected this’d turn into some big fight but you’re not going to argue, you’re going to explain yourself

“Alastor… Al, my love. I wasn’t replacing you with your shadow buddy. He was just trying to help me get accustom to being your wife. I’ve never been married before and being married to the Radio Demon… it’s. It requires a lot of adjusting so he was just trying to help”

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about his half temper tantrum. Of course, why would his shadow even care about having a spouse of its own? It doesn’t, it cares about you being the best wife for its master so it’s trying to help and get you more comfortable. Yes, he is still jealous that you didn’t come to him and go to a shadow… but he does really appreciate all the effort and the wish to not rely on him in order to impress him

After taking a deep breath whilst placing his bigger clawed hand on the smaller clawed hand of yours over his cheek, gently fondling the soft skin over his face. Alastor rhythmically brushes his own fingers over the smooth skin of your hand briefly. Controlling himself, controlling his emotions and then finally saying whilst opening his eyes again to meet yours

Just… such beautiful eyes

“My dear… I appreciate the efforts but please, don’t think you can’t come to me to learn. We’re husband and wife, we work together. You don’t need to go to my friends for that advice”

[legalmente-loca]

An Angel In His Eyes

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Angel!Reader

Summary: Dean sees you as pure and himself as dirty. But you crave him and you must show him that there is nothing wrong with him.

Word Count: 3,115

A/N: This idea came from this image.

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, lost of virginity

You are perfect in his eyes. A real angel who fills his insides with grace. Anyone who saw you would say you were normal, just another girl looking for her way. But he knew the truth. Created centuries ago, your name too strange not to be given nicknames, heavenly gaze…

You were an angel.

A divine angel, a soldier of God, a warrior of heavenly battles.

And you were perfect for him.

You could see it in his eyes. Maybe you are not used to people's feelings, but you know how to read them. They are very easy to read. And Dean longed for you, in a way that made you feel unique. Being an angel of God was already something unique, but somehow, Dean made you feel more special.

But he also saw something in you that he could not shake off. Your innocence. What innocence? You are a warrior, you had blood on your hands, you had seen your brothers die and you had sought revenge for them. You had observed humans, their pleasures, their ailments, their perfections and imperfections. And likewise, Dean was the human who shined out from all the others. A soldier for his own father, like you. But a man nonetheless who longed for forgiveness. There was too much guilt inside him and as you got to know him better, you could see that he was even drowning in it.

And, of course you, as an angel, wanted to save him.

But he didn't want to be saved, he didn't see himself as someone worth saving.

That’s why he ignored you most of the time. Whenever you tried to get close to him, Dean would pull away. He would even start arguments with you just to have an excuse to get out of the room.

You see, Dean was fighting the lust he felt towards you. How could he not feel lust towards a sweet angel like you? After all, you were perfect. People interested you to a point where you wanted to gain knowledge about how they thought just to feel empathy.

He didn’t want to ruin that. To ruin something so perfect with his dirtiness, because he was dirty. He really was compared to you.

That’s why, when you walked into the motel room, he grabbed his jacket and got ready to leave for a bar where he would meet another woman. But you stopped him with your melodious voice.

“Wait. I want to talk to you.”

He turned around to look at you.

“About what?”

“Why do you seem scared of me?” You asked with clear confusion, tilting your head.

He shook his head in amusement and took off his jacket again.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“And why do you run away every time you see me? You don’t even want to talk to me. You know, I was one of the angels who dragged you back from doom.”

“I know, Cas told me.”

“So where does this fear I feel radiating from you come from?” You walked over to him.

He sighed. The war that was in his head downstairs was now in his head upstairs. He wondered if it would be a good idea to tell you how he felt about you. But he also thought that you wouldn’t understand, that he would have to explain it to you. How do you explain something that even you didn’t fully understand?

“Look, sweetheart…” He ran a hand across his forehead. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m hundreds of years old, my knowledge goes beyond that of any human.”

“Not in this field.”

You looked at him curiously. You knew about history, both human and celestial. You knew about plants and the other gods. You had watched how the different creations of humanity were created. What could he be referring to?

He noticed that you wouldn’t give up, so he decided to give in and tell you.

“I feel… Things for you.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well… Things like…” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. “Like lust.”

“Lust…”

You had known Lust, even fought they. You knew who they were and what they did, how they rented people out. Was that the whole big deal?

“That’s all?”

He frowned.

“All? Sweethearth, I just confessed something big to you.”

“Not really.” You shook your head. “You say you feel lust, that’s normal. You’re human, my vessel too. The attraction you feel towards this body is normal.”

“You don’t understand…”

He looked away towards the window. It was starting to rain, a strong wind had been present since the afternoon.

“I feel lust towards you, not just your body.” He returned his gaze to you. “I feel lust when I think about your gaze, not your eyes. When I think about the way you move, not your legs. When I think about the tone you use to speak…” His gaze ran from bottom to top until it reached your eyes. “I feel lust towards you, angel.”

You were speechless. This human didn’t feel things for your vessel, but for you… For you and only you.

You swallowed, the emotions were confusing inside you. And what do you feel for him? You wondered. And you remembered his laugh, his jokes, the way his green eyes looked in the light, and also in his darker form; when he hunted and killed without a second thought, without mercy.

You placed your hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“I have feelings for you too.” You murmured.

Dean gulped, clearly nervous. But no, this wasn’t something he could ruin.

He placed his hand on yours and gently pushed it away.

“I’m not good for you, angel.”

You tilted your head in confusion. A human no good for you? Well, yes, it was against all the rules. The fruit of your union would be cosmic chaos on its own. But you sensed he meant something else.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’m a killer. My job is to kill. I’ve seen more blood than I have in my body and you… You’re an angel. I could never corrupt you like that.”

You held his hand. So that was it. Self-hatred.

“I’ve seen wars made up of bloodthirsty men,” You said. “Destruction of all kinds and cruelty throughout the centuries. I’m not afraid of you and your darkness, Dean. Because I know it really isn’t as bad as you think.”

He sighed and brought your hand to his cheek.

“You’re something from another world… You’re an angel.” He whispered.

You took another step forward and your gaze dropped to his lips. You ran your thumb over them before bringing your own lips closer and kissing them softly. But Dean pulled away from the kiss, at least at first. After a few seconds of looking into your eyes, searching for some sign of regret that he couldn’t find, he kissed you again. He moved his hands up your arms, moving up to your cheeks, where he caressed your skin with his thumbs.

It was your first kiss. You had never kissed anyone in any form, so you weren’t quite sure what to do. Dean seemed to notice this, as he guided you with his lips slowly and gently, taking his time to savor the moment and your mouth. You slowly walked back until your legs touched the edge of your bed, causing you to sit up. Dean stared at you, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth and licked his finger without taking your gaze off of him. He groaned and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to hold back. But you didn’t want him to hold back. You brought your hands to his belt and undid it before unzipping his jeans. But he stopped you, placing his other hand over yours.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly.

And you could only nod. Your angelic voice was lost in your throat. It was enough for him and he let you continue.

Dean let you pull his jeans down and you looked at the bulge between his legs, causing you to clench your legs together. He noticed this movement and smiled.

“You look so cute right now.” He looked down at himself and placed his thumbs inside his boxers, pulling them down until his cock sprang free.

You gave a small gasp at the sight. The red tip, glistening with precum, eager for you.

You reached up and touched him gently, running your slender fingers along his skin. He couldn’t stop the small moan that came from the back of his throat and he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t do that or it will be over sooner than we both want.”

You nodded and moved back on the bed until you were sitting on your knees. You held the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head. You looked at him waiting for a reaction, your bra in full view.

“You are beautiful.” He murmured, looking at you in awe.

You smiled and shook your head.

“This is not my real form, Dean.”

“Yes, it is.” He said without hesitation. “Because it’s as beautiful as you.”

You tilted your head, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much as he took off his shirt and climbed onto the bed. He brushed your hair out of your eyes and kissed you softly again. His hands traveled down your body until they reached your bra, which he unclasped.

Your breasts popped free and a shiver ran down your spine. No matter how many moments you had lived, the sensations of now were unique.

Dean pulled away from the kiss and looked at your chest, his lips parted as he whispered something you couldn't quite make out, but you suspected it was almost the same thing he said before.

His hand ran along the edge of one of your breasts and you bit your bottom lip, feeling more moisture between your legs. Dean gently pushed you down to lay down, which you did.

You rested your head on the pillows and looked up at him. The light made him look like a God. Different from the ones you knew, but a God somehow.

He parted your legs and positioned himself between them before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Your body needs to be worshipped.” He murmured as he placed another kiss on your nose. “And that’s just what I’m going to do.”

He trailed his kisses down to your neck, where he licked and nibbled, causing you to let out small gasps from your pretty mouth. He continued down until he reached one of your breasts. He watched you intently as he took your nipple into his mouth and played with it with his tongue. Your breathing changed, your chest rising and falling faster as Dean continued to worship you. He bit down softly and pulled away slightly, tugging at your nipple until he released it from between his teeth until he moved to the other, giving it equal attention until both breasts were wet with his saliva and red from his bites.

He continued his way down your body, scattering kisses across your skin until he reached your waist, where he paused to look at you.

He wanted to know if you were still on the same page as him and you nodded.

“Good girl.” That comment made your legs shake. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” He chuckled softly and pulled your pants down.

Your panties were seen by him and he licked his lips. He could already feel your sting on the tip of his tongue, even before he leaned down and ran his tongue along your core over your panties.

You let out a moan and buried your head into the pillow. Your desire finally being satisfied, even though it was just beginning.

He continued to lick until he noticed your panties getting wetter and wetter, leaving a wet spot. He bit the fabric and pulled it down, patting your hips to signal you to lift them up. He slid your panties down your legs slowly, teasing you, and tossed them to the floor above his jeans.

He didn't beat around the bush and buried his face between your legs, licking and nibbling slowly at first, then faster. He licked like he was thirsty, like your grace was leaking out from between your legs and he wanted to collect it all.

You moaned and held the sheets beneath you firmly as you felt his tongue running over your purest place.

Then he gently inserted a finger, watching your expressions intently. He slowly slid it in and out of you, your walls squeezing him and he couldn't help but imagine his cock instead of his finger. That drew a whimper from him and he rubbed his face against your thigh before giving it a small bite.

He licked your clit as he pushed another finger into you and your eyes rolled back.

“Oh God…”

The name of your creator fell from between your lips as you felt a wave of pleasure rush through you from head to toe, making you shiver and tense your body, closing your thighs around his head as your back arched and your eyes turned blue making you believe that maybe you had teleported to heaven once again.

Dean moaned against your core as he licked up the last of your nectar. He pulled away and licked his lips as he watched your chest rise and fall in gasps with complete lust. He crawled up your body until he was close to your face and kissed you with more fervor than before. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“You were a very good girl.” He murmured against your lips. “And now you must continue like this, understand?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He let out a growl.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Dean…” You whispered.

“That’s my girl.” He placed a kiss on your nose.

He moved his body until he was more comfortably positioned between your legs. He held his member in one hand while resting the other on the mattress beside your head.

“Tell me how much you want this.” He rubbed his lips against your cheek while rubbing his cock against your folds. “C’mon, tell me.”

“I want it so bad. Please, Dean, give it to me…”

He placed one last kiss against your lips and slowly pushed the tip of his member into you. You moaned louder, the sensation taking you by surprise. You held onto his arms tightly.

“That’s it…” He murmured, his breath against your face as he went a little deeper. “You’re doing so well.” He scattered kisses all over your face to relax you.

You felt a sting, at first. More of an annoyance than pain, but that faded as he pushed another few inches in. You felt a trail of your grace run through your body.

“Dean…”

“That’s it, baby.” He kissed your lips, to which you responded gladly.

He reached the bottom and you felt him touch your cervix. He stilled, cursing, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. And you did, nodding and holding him tightly, your foreheads together.

He pulled out of you slowly, leaving just the tip inside before he entered again. You moaned and frowned, your breathing quickening as you felt him part your inner walls. He started to have a steady rhythm, your juices staining your thighs and his pelvis. The rain getting stronger outside.

“You feel so good, baby. Like heaven itself.” He rested his elbows on the sides of your head as he kept up his pace.

“Faster.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, please.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on your cheek before going faster. You moaned louder and your eyes rolled back.

“Oh, fuck.” Dean cursed. “You’re so tight I can barely get out. You don’t want to let me go, do you?” He exhaled a laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t move away.”

His movements turned into thrusts, the bed beginning to rock and hit the wall.

You turned your face and noticed the cross that was on a wall beginning to bounce.

“Oh, God, Dean.” You whimpered.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.”

He took your chin in one hand, guiding your face to his again, kissing you passionately as he continued to pound into you.

You felt that trail run through your entire body again, and your eyes lit up. Dean watched in fascination as your eyes turned blue. That trail surrounded your body, and this time, Dean could admire it.

You arched your back and pressed yourself around him, causing him to moan and swear he saw the shadow of your wings expanding across the bed.

“T-that’s my good girl. C’mon, cum for me.”

You moaned his name, and your angel power exploded, the trail becoming too bright for Dean’s mortal eyes. He had to close them, but his movements didn’t stop, though it’s not like he could move too much since you were practically squeezing him tightly.

Dean came shortly after you did, his cum filling you, staining your walls and spreading out.

He dropped down beside you so he wouldn’t crush you, both of your breaths panting as you tried to get back to normal. He looked you up and down and leaned in close to you.

“You okay?” he murmured, running his hand through your hair.

You looked up at him and smiled tiredly.

“I’m doing great…”

He laughed and pulled your body closer to him, your head on the side of his neck, and you breathed in his scent.

“Was this okay? No regrets?”

You shook your head as you traced lines across his chest.

“None. And you?” You looked up at him.

Dean smirked and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“Nah.”

You laughed and snuggled into his body. Dean grabbed the sheet and covered both of your bodies.

“So… now what?” You asked.

“Now what?”

You shrugged.

“So… How does this go? Did it just happen this time, will it happen again or… Will it turn into something more?”

He looked down at you.

“Oh, this will definitely turn into something more.”

He hugged you tighter and placed a kiss on your hair.

You smiled and closed your eyes. Being an angel might give you a lot of knowledge in many things and innocence in others. Having a relationship with a human would go against the rules of heaven and The other angels would probably talk behind your back. But you didn’t care. You had Dean.

Dean Winchester One Shots

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[ultravi0lence14]

Butterfly

sam winchester x angel!reader

1k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: you and sam were complete opposites of each other, and sam had no idea how a gorgeous, pure girl like you could even chose him in the first place.

sam sometimes just stared at you when you weren’t looking, wondering how he got so lucky in finding a girl like you.

you were so sweet, someone sam thought his wretched soul wasn’t worthy of. he’s got demon blood running through his veins, the vessel of lucifer himself. why would you — an angel as pure as snow — even remotely look his way.

that was the funny thing with you angels though. you guys always saw the best in people.

before you touched down from heaven, you had learned the copious stories of the winchester brothers lives. how their mother died, springing them into the hunting life. their tragic upbringing, and how their father raised them poorly. but most importantly, you learned about the youngest.

sam winchester. the boy with demon blood. every angel you spoke to said he was an abomination, but you thought differently.

this wasn’t sam’s fault. he was a defenceless baby, having this curse brought forth onto him by his mother’s actions long before his conception. sam was a victim, a child forced into this life with no say whatsoever; and you felt like the only angel who truly saw it like that.

when you had made it to earth, cordially meeting both sam and dean for the first time, you wondered why your brother’s and sister’s talked so poorly about the man.

he truly was a friendly giant. too sweet for his own good. he cared. about people he didn’t know, his brother especially, and all the strangers he came across on hunts with dean.

watching him console a victim for the first time tugged on your heart strings. he was so kind, so thoughtful and unlike anything said about him up in heaven. it was at that moment you felt your first human emotion. a surge of fondness rushing up your body like bile coming up your throat.

for a fleeting moment, you experienced what human love was truly like.

as time moved forward, you and sam got closer and closer. more often than not, you decided to stay back and research with him instead of going out with dean and cas. you talked with him, learning about his childhood from his mouth and truly understanding the full truth and severity of his life growing up.

the day that he kissed you for the first time was magical, better than the feeling of all angel grace combined. he was nervous, hands shaking as the cupped your face and shyly asking if this is what you wanted.

of course you wanted it. you wanted sam winchester since the moment you saw him, and now you were finally getting what you hoped for.

just as you believed, sam truly was the perfect boyfriend. he was caring and considerate, always willing to drop anything and everything to make sure you were okay. though he was also tough and protective, turning full hunter mode whenever someone bothered you or made you uncomfortable.

one thing you loved was how he spoke to you. he held you at the highest point in his mind, addressing you with the upmost love and respect that he could muster.

because that is how he really saw you. sam in his heart believed that you were possibly the most gorgeous being he’d ever laid his eyes on. you were truly the apple of his eye, and he wouldn’t dream of letting someone as perfect as you go.

he even called you his butterfly. a gorgeous creation of God that flys around and somehow always lands somewhere on him. which was true, because you were a very clingy person.

you two were always holding hands, arms linked, or sam’s arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder. dean had to stop himself from hurling 24/7, and you had to stop yourself from getting cartoonish hearts in your eyes whenever you looked at him.

the peace and serenity that you brought to sam’s life was all he could ever ask for. when you decided to take up drawing and painting, he cherished the times you two would find an empty space, setting down a picnic blanket and drawing whatever your heart desired surrounded by nature.

when he joined you for the first time, and you handed him over a intricately detailed drawing of him sitting down at that very moment, eyes opened and staring woefully at the large trees and flowers surrounding him, he couldn’t help but let a couple tears fall.

“oh no,” you had exclaimed, sitting up on your knees so you could get nearer to him. “you don’t like it, do you?”

he instantly snapped his head towards you, watching as tears filled your bright coloured eyes. his heart shattered staring into your glassy irises, and he cursed himself for ever making you feel like that.

shaking his head and putting down your sketchbook so he could cup your face, sam pulled you over to him so you were delicately perched in his lap. eye’s boring into his as he delicately stroked your cheek.

“i love it butterfly. that is the prettiest drawing i have ever seen. even prettier cause it was made by you.” his cheesy words made you blush, not caring in the slightest how silly you two probably looked to on lookers. with your finger reaching out to trace the slope of his nose, you looked at him with a soft smile on your face, pouring your heart into one look. “you mean that?”

“of course i do.” his eyes held that glossy puppy dog look you loved so dearly, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. “i am not trying to sound cheesy when i say this, but you truly are the best thing that ever happened to me, butterfly. you’re the one of the only one’s who believed in me.”

his words brought a gleeful smile on your face. and as the midday sun trickled across his, you thanked your father for whatever he did to make you and sam come together.

[v33n4-c4rn1s]

"Promise."

Remy LeBeau x fem!reader

A/n: This is my first proper fanfic! it's over 2000 words lolol and it's just Angst/Comfort with everyone's favorite Cajun! I'm really proud of this and I'm happy Remy gets to be my very first proper fic..i hope you enjoy!! also tag for because they asked so nicely :3 @kaidan-z

Summary: When wade wilson dragged you into the mess you were miserable, mourning and utterly heartbroken but now, after following Wilson and Howlett around for hours, watching them fight you finally get your end of the deal. Seeing a man you thought you'd never see again.

────────────────⋆༺𓆩🂱𓆪༻⋆─────────────────

Maybe it’s the fact this was all so..confusing.

I mean how are you supposed to feel when you come face to face with a ghost? 

Well, not really. A ghost would still remember, clutching time in its weary hands, allowing freedom and the soft embrace of closure. A ghost would know. Instead you’re both faced with the haunting idea of a lost memory. Something to yearn and claw for, barely scratching the surface of remembrance. A flame of longing and desperation that’s snuffed out by the force of time. 

- - - - - - - 

You were forced into this mess, against your own will really. One minute you’re sitting in your own misery, clutching a pen and paper, biting back inevitable tears. You mourned the loss of a man who had been long gone, Remy Lebeau. Your Remy. God he was the brightest star, the sweetest man with a sharp tongue. You loved him. You loved him more than anything. The best part? He loved you. Of all the wonderful people in the world, he wanted you, always you. Only you. So that's why it hurt so much when he met his end. 

That's why it tore a hole in your heart. He was tied to you, so deeply rooted in your soul that nothing could pull him away, no gentle persuasion could remove him. Only brute force, A harsh tug that tore him away and left you burning. Painful rage that was so blinding that people cowered away. So in this moment..you just needed solace.

But the universe didn’t give you that, instead You're hauled over some guy's shoulder who's blabbering about how “relieved” he is to see you.

So..what the fuck?

You later learn that you're stranded in a trio, a pathetic one at most. A merc with a mouth, Anger issues in a little yellow bundle (he comes with claws too.) and of course...you.

To most, you weren’t anything special. A mutant? Yes. Despite that being heavy enough itself, your mutation wasn’t anything flashy, just simple enough to cope with.

So why the hell did this bloodstained bastard take you of all people? 

- - - - - - -

So here you are now, stalking behind the pair you now know as Logan Howlett and..Wade Wilborn?..no, Wilson. That's it. Wade Wilson. He was the reason you were here. The void. That’s what this place was..a void. An endless layout of trash and gunk. The TVA, who you later learned “preserved the Sacred Timeline and prevented the creation of alternate timelines.” 

Turns out Wade’s universe was fucked because it lost its “anchor being.” Which was his universe's version of the grouchy companion he’d brought with him..or well, forced with him. Paradox, the one responsible (sorta) for Wade's wonderful kidnapping plan did not seem too pleased..especially since wade had to be that tiny bit extra and break his nose. So he sent you all here..the void.

Wade seemed to be a bit too friendly in all the wrong aspects..seriously how many sex jokes are too many? He’s sweet, you’ll give him that. You found that out only after he attempted to use you as a human shield against some bald headed bitch that only existed to grind on your nerves..But hey, that Johnny guy definitely got it worse.

- - - - - - -

The two overgrown children further proved their hatred to each other by fighting all their tension out in a shitty honda odyssey..all night. They fought till the sun went down. You just sorta sat there, lazily trying to wipe the nose bleed you had received after Wade shoved you to the ground in order to reach a “precious angel.”

..A dog. She was cute but you didn’t take too kindly to him picking a slobbering dog over your mental stability. Still, now all you really had to do was sit and wait for the two to finish their very loud and sharp disagreements. 

- - - - - - -

So..now you’re all caught up? Good. Then let me jump back to our present time.

He could have been a ghost, hell he might as well have been considering how much he paled when he saw you. The way the cards in his hands fluttered to a gentle stop. Even when wielding his weapons he was a gentleman. His lips parted..He wanted to say something, anything..but words could not find him. He just starred. 

To say you felt sick was an understatement. You felt like your body was about to give up any second. Overcome with the heaviest wave of nausea you’ve ever experienced. Here he was..a dead man. Standing in front of your very eyes..and he was beautiful. A little different..but beautiful. From the hair to the tip of his boots, he was the most gorgeously sculpted man you have ever seen.

“Chère?..”

“Remy?”

 ��Oh fuck. You’re kidding right? So this..version of him had a version of you too? He knew you? He knew you and without even knowing what had happened to his version of you, just looking at his face you knew that something so unforgettable had happened that he was just as broken as you.

“Ooh shit!! Are you seeing this!? I gotta say..i expected all the flashy entrances but look at these two lost loves? Ugh it's like I'm drowning in their self deprecating..”

Remy gave a half glance at the merc, scowling immediadently. His eyes set on him for just a split second before the glare was gone and he was back to looking at you. A softness creeping into his gaze that you didn’t think you’d see ever again. His brows furrowed as he took a step closer.

He knew it wasn’t his lost love but still. From the tips of your hair to the flush in your cheeks, the tentative grasp of your fingers against the fabric of your suit, the way your eyes brimmed with uncertain tears..it didn’t matter. He could rebuild. As selfish as that sounded he could rebuild it all if you’d let him.

“it..it ain’t you but-”

He tried to speak, he really did but the way you flinched at the sound of his voice made him want to cower like a small child. Your eyes fell onto the set of cards in his hand that he soon tucked away into the pocket of his coat. The gentle rustle of the fabric brought you snapping back to the present, a sharp gasp slipping from your lips as you carefully backed away, allowing Wade to take the lead again.

- - - - - - -

He watched you the whole time. He didn’t pay attention at all to whatever the hell the nuisance in the centre babbled on about. He watched you like a hawk. Eyes tracing over every piece of you. The way you bit down on the plush of your lip or how your lashes seemed to dampen everytime you blinked. He took note of the unsteady rhythm of your chest. He knew all the signs. When his eyes flicked back up to your face, he saw a tiny tear, barely visible but he could see it. It slipped down your cheek, resting on the curve of your jaw before it dropped onto the floor, seeping into the wood.

Remy had known you all his time in the void. He had no grasp on anything other than this wasteland and well..you. For a brief moment, he let himself daydream, just resting in the past, in the familiar sight of the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Yours.

- - - - - - -

“Don’t you think this is an awful idea?”

“Nonsense Chère, you think Remy doesn’t know a fine place when he sees one?”

His lips curled into a smile as he watched you glance at the rundown diner. It wasn’t exactly heaven, he knew that..but that didn’t matter, as cheesy as it sounds everywhere was heaven when he was with you. You laughed at the way he struggled to open a cabinet, the way he tugged at the wooden handle.

“Careful remy..it looks unsteady..maybe you should-”

“No need to worry about me Mon amour, what? You think Remy can’t handle a little push and pull? Dis is nothing, you just sit there and look- merde!!-”

It swung open, nearly taking him out in the process. You burst into fits of laughter, your knees buckling under how hard your laughter had hit you.

- - - - - - -

And that..bittersweet memory was the very thing that kept him pushing. Your laughter was the sweetest thing to him, he adored it more than anything and he’d longed to hear it once more.

He glanced over at you again, seriously he couldn’t stop. How could he? It was like looking into the past, the love of his life was a few steps away from him and he was doing nothing? What was wrong with him?

He couldn’t stand the silence anymore, the tension. He watched as you looked at his hands that were now nervously playing with his card deck. He carefully placed them all in one hand before pointing at you. He saw the way you jumped a little at being addressed. He then pointed to himself before pointing to the exit.

He wanted you alone, He wanted to talk.

Despite the ache in your chest, the tremble in your body, you followed him. You followed him out the arch and into the cool near evening. The sun was beginning to set, it casted the warmest glow over the wasteland. It was the prettiest thing about the whole dump.

The two of you walked in silence for a bit. The only sound filling the air were the gentle crunches of twigs beneath Remy’s shoes. It suddenly hit you. You were here, with an exact copy of your former lover. This was so fucked up.

He led you to a smaller campfire, letting you take a seat on the log before lighting the fire, sitting down with a soft grunt.

“Remy know’s dis is a bit..confusing and he’s damn sorry about it but..I've gotta know, chère..”

His soft honesty brought warm butterflies to your stomach. The words rolled off his tongue, combed by his heavy accent. His knee bounced nervously as he watched your face, biting his lip slightly.

“It's..complicated, it would take a long time to even-”

“Remy’s got all the time in the world Chère, just talk t’me..”

You glanced at him one last time. He looked like a kicked puppy when you denied him. How the hell could you say no to such hopeful eyes?

And so you told him, you told him everything. The love, the loss, the pain. The way his absence had left a gaping wound on your being, leaving the ugliest scar and a hideous rage, a burning hatred. You spilled it all and it felt good. It felt good to finally just talk. You were so into explaining it all that you didn’t even notice the fact you were in floods of tears, droplets streaking down your cheeks. Your breathing shortened as you forced more words out of your throat. You were too engrossed in the pain.

“Chère.”

His firm tone cut you off, he reached up, carefully swiping a tear away with the pad of his finger. It sent a range of sparks up your spine and you quivered under his gaze.

He watched you for just a moment before making up his mind. He knew he was overstepping the imaginary boundaries but he knew his Chère well enough to know what she needed. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other slid up to your shoulder, bringing you into a warm embrace. He was so different yet the exact same. He smelt like whiskey and leather. He smelt like home and it made you feel sick.

“Ma pauvre fille..”

He was so comfortable that he didn’t even realise the words that left his mouth, the soft claim he made..but you did. You heard it and it stung, it healed a tiny part of your wounded soul, to be addressed as his once more. You squeezed his shoulder, letting the last few tears fall. He pulled back, hesitantly cupping your cheek, relaxing a little as you leaned into his touch. This felt right, despite the gnaw of pain it felt right. To be here with him, to feel him.

Remy lifted his hand, capturing your smaller ones with a gentle touch. He pressed his lips to the back of it. A kiss, full of tender love and sweet affection. A rush of blood reached both of your cheeks. The cool air gently brushed against the heated skin. He leaned forward pressing another kiss to your forehead this time, letting his own rest against yours as he brought one of your hand to his chestplate, placing it above his heart.

“It’s yours Chère, mon coeur est à toi.”

You knew what he meant, he had promised you that despite all odds, if ever something went wrong, he would find you. He’d find you in every universe.

And he did.

Remy Lebeau was many things. He’d been branded as a scoundrel all his life..but if there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was lie to you. He was an honest man who kept his promises to you.

He fulfilled each one. Including this one.

───────────⋆༺𓆩🂱𓆪༻⋆─────────────

[washeduphazbin]

Could I get a one shot of, y/n is like Adam’s life ex gf she left after getting tired of his shit.. ended up falling in love with Lucifer.. (Mr. Steal yo girl thrice) and during the Adam and Lucifer battle Lucifer taunts that he stole all three of his lovers

YES. YES. I'm in love with Lucifer. Your wish is my command.

Sorry it's so short if we like maybe part 2

Also, poly luci x reader x Lilith (sorry, not sorry)

———

“Little duck?” Lucifer asked softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You were holding onto one of his plush ducks rather tightly,

"I can't help but think...that this extermination is my fault." Lucifer let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, "Lulu-"

"I won't have that negative self-talk in my house." Your brow furrowed in distress,

"But-"

"No buts."

"Lucifer! Adam's absolutely moved up the extermination to spite Charlie and us!" You argued, "I...what if I go back to him."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I don't want to!" You moved away from him to the portrait of Lilith, you and Lucifer hanging in the corner of the room. "I really don't want to..." You raised your hand and brushed against Lilith's horns and Lucifer's staff in the portrait. "You know I don't belong here; I'm not a demon, a sinner, or an angel either. I'm just a human who fell because I fell in love with you and your family." You smiled sadly over at him, holding out your hand. Lucifer squeezed it tightly, "What if I can solve all of this by just going back with Adam."

"That's not happening; I'm not letting you go back to that fuckwad;" He scoffed, brushing a hand through your hair, "Do you think you'll be happier with him? Without us? Without Charlie?"

"No." You laughed bitterly, "Of course not, Charlie would kill me."

"She absolutely would. You're like another mother to her; she wouldn't let you go back to that hellscape without a fight. Neither will I; I have a few words I'd love to share with Adam."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"I'm sure you'll get to hear it eventually," he mused, leaning closer to kiss your cheeks. "Just stay safe and stay away from the Hotel until Charlie or I give you the okay, okay?"

"Okay." You whispered softly, bending down to plant a kiss on his lips,

"Did you really have to bend down like that," He huffed, hitting you gently with his cane.

"Oh, absolutely."

---

"Stay home? STAY HOME?" You roared, grabbing Lucifer's shoulders, "Everyone dying, and you want me to stay home!"

"For your safety and everyone's safety. Yes." He squeezed your shoulders tightly, "If it's between you and Charlie, I-"

"You choose Charlie every time."

"I love you-"

"I know. I love you too." You smiled softly, "Kick Adam in the dick for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady. Here," Lucifer handed you his phone, "It'll live stream the battle; I hacked a VoxTech drone." He puffed his chest out proudly, and you beamed, taking his phone from his hands.

"I can't wait to see Adam get dick punched in HD!"

"There's the bloodlust I love so much; if I didn't have to go save Hell, I'd totally fuck you right now."

"Then you better leave now so you can come back and fuck me as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave the dorkiest salute before teleporting out of the room.

---

"I am going to FUCK you!"

"It's fuck you up...dad."

Your face palmed, curling up on the bed, Lucifer's phone in your hand, watching the live stream.

"What? What did I say? Oh Shit-" Lucifer burst into laughter as he transformed into a snake to avoid being hit by Adam, "So this is what you've been up to since Eden, huh? I gotta you really let yourself go, buddy."

"Are you judging me?" Adam snarled in a disbelieving laugh, "You're the most hated being in all of creation!" Lucifer snickered as he turned into a bird,

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer, or the second bow chica. Wow, wow!" He splayed his fingers out in a V shape and stuck his tongue in between his fingers, "Not to mention your third."

"I'm sorry what!" He snarled,

"Oh, you didn't know? (Y/n)'s a doll, the tightest pussy Lilith and I've EVER shared!"

You made a horrified sound at the phone, wanted to absolutely curl up into a ball and die, Charlie didn't look any better.

"Dad!"

"You are so dead!" Adam shouted, "And I'm gonna find that bitch, and I'm going to make her pay!"

"Sure you are," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

[tsukiusagi180]

Lucifer x reader x Adam

note: no order

Warning: deceptions, angst, death, English is not my mother tongue

You (Y/n), you were an angel, not just any angel but a seraph. You were the famous (Y/n) (L/n) angel who dated the 1st man, Adam. You experience pure happiness, even if sometimes you think you were happy.

You were, until the day you found out. Being a seraph in the place you attended Charlie's advice, from the start you agreed with her, after all anyone has the right to a second chance, and especially as God says it, you must forgive. So when Adam said he was going to exterminate Charlie in a month, you and Emily didn't understand, why? They were human souls!

“Adam, don’t tell me it was your idea?”

“Honey, they are fishermen, they were lucky enough to earn their wings”

“Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

"Of course not! I'm the first man"

“Isn’t man himself the definition of fishing?”

“Sweetheart, please stay out of this”

"Adam..."

“Please, I love you”

“I love you too, but you don’t deserve heaven”

Then you left and took refuge where you and Adam often go, to the garden of Eden. You sat under the tree resting your head on your knees while folding your wings over yourself, you just wanted to be alone.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You didn't want to answer, but this voice was unknown to you, yet you knew everyone up here. You raised your head and there you saw Lucifer. Lucifer himself, he stood there in front of you asking if everything was okay

"Not really "

“Do you want to talk about it?”

"Yes..."

"What is it about ?"

“Love problem...my partner lied to me”

“Haha I think I know it, my daughter experienced the same thing”

“But did your daughter know that she was dating an angel who killed hundreds of demons?”

“Oh...are you dating Adam?”

The only response you gave him was a sad nod, yes you were going out with him but you couldn't tolerate his actions.

"Lucifer you should hate me, why are you trying to help me by listening to me?"

“Simply because I am blinded by your beauty”

You suddenly blushed. But what you didn't know is that from afar, Emily looked at you, she was smiling because she knew it was what was best for you, Adam was only harmful, while Lucifer being the dreamer that he is, could bring you everything that Adam wouldn't.

You continued to see each other often since that day, obviously always in secret. On the day of the extermination you went down with Lute and Adam, except that once down everything didn't go as planned. Adam and Lucifer fought.

"You judge me? You are the most hated creature in creation"

“Your first wife didn’t hate everything I had to offer her.”

“Nor the second bom wawa”

“Nor the third for that matter, you know she was very disappointed in you”

Adam stopped and looked at you, you looked at her shamefully, you were ashamed, but before saying anything Lute arrived shouting

“TRAISTOR”

at you. She ripped off your wings before crashing into you. The fight is over here for you. That day you lost everything, your first husband, your forbidden love and a better life

[sansaorgana]

— INAPPROPRIATE FRIENDSHIP

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Celebrimbor x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — When Lord Celebrimbor abandons all his duties to focus on forging the Rings, Annatar finds an opportunity to take care of the neglected Lady of Eregion.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I really liked this idea but I felt so bad writing this...!🙈 Like, I'm so sorry, Bimby... 😭 Either way, I don't think I'm going to write a second part because A) I would feel even worse and also B) to be perfectly honest I don't see any happy ending for this story. In my head, the Reader would eventually end up like Mirdania. 💀 Imagine how Celebrimbor would feel like while thinking that he killed his own wife, though!!!1! 🤧 But yeah, I don't want to explore that... 🤣 So, yeah, you get this one shot instead and that has to be enough for now! 💓

WARNINGS — cheating, manipulation, gaslighting, Reader is kinda bewitched with a corrupted item (so you can interpret her desire for Sauron as something beyond her control, therefore without an actual consent), SMUT

WORD COUNT — 6,880

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

INAPPROPRIATE FRIENDSHIP

When Sauron came to Eregion for the first time, he was surprised to meet Lady (Y/N) – Lord Celebrimbor’s wife. She was much younger than her husband both in age and looks. And she was most certainly a woman who loved attention, meanwhile her husband’s focus was mostly set on the creations within his forge instead on her.

As Halbrand, Sauron could feel Lady (Y/N)’s contempt towards him. Perhaps even slight disgust. Something about a human and a commoner – even though believed to be a King – was making her feel uncomfortable and superior. Sauron immediately knew that if he was ever to use her against her husband, he needed a new form. Much nobler and prettier.

As time progressed, even though Halbrand was not around her much, he realised why she was a perfect match for her husband. She adored being the Lady of Eregion and ruling it when Celebrimbor was too busy to deal with the administration matters. But she also loved her husband and all his creations – she seemed to be as proud as him for his craft. My husband made it, she seemed to be saying with her contemptuous eyes full of hubris and greed for power.

And each time Celebrimbor spoke to Halbrand about his beloved wife as he would call her, his eyes were lighting up and sparkling. She was a great Elven lady after all indeed and it surely would be a great pride to have a woman like her by one’s side and to be able to call her a wife.

She was against leaving Middle-earth and against the departure to Valinor for one simple reason – she would no longer be a lady of a whole city where she could be her own mistress. Here, protected by the walls of Eregion, she could even ignore the High King’s commands if that was her wish. Like her husband often did.

Sauron did not know much about her past or the origins of her relationship with Lord Celebrimbor. Halbrand was usually a chatty and curious man but asking too many of such questions could be suspicious. Celebrimbor would get jealous of his wife since it would be no surprise for a common human to fall in love with a beautiful Elven lady.

No, for that he had to wait.

And so he did wait and left Eregion for some time to continue with his schemes and when he came back it was to find out that Lady Galadriel had forbidden Celebrimbor to deal with Halbrand. Using young Elven smith Mirdania, Sauron managed to make Celebrimbor feel sorry for the injured human king spending a night alone in the rain. And so he invited him back to his forge where Halbrand revealed his true self to him – a noble and humble emissary of the Valar and the Lord of Gifts. Annatar.

Annatar was shaped with Lady (Y/N) in mind. Her husband, too, of course. After all, he was supposed to charm Lord Celebrimbor and be able to manipulate him. But Sauron doubted that the great smith would care about his looks so much – he was mostly in awe of the fact that the emissary of the Valar himself came to Eregion to support his work; such a pure and gentle being.

His wife, however, had a certain type she would adore and Sauron knew that already. He contrasted with her husband – younger in looks but not too young since she clearly was not after the young ones. Long, blond hair that made him look regal in an ethereal way. Angelic.

And Lady (Y/N) liked pretty and shiny things but in delicate shapes and forms. Sauron noticed that while observing the jewellery she was wearing. Beautiful pieces forged by her husband – all of them emphasising the pure light of Valinor she was radiating with proudly.

Some of the Elves were so proud of their light and righteousness that it was no longer of a good kind but it was not his intention to make her realise that.

At the time when Halbrand changed his form into Annatar, Lady (Y/N) was out of Eregion – visiting Mirkwood where she was originally from. And Annatar could not wait for her to finally come back home and see him.

You hopped off of your beautiful, grey mare and you patted her back as you nodded at the Elves working in the stables. They bowed their heads and addressed you as their lady while you took your riding gloves off.

The day was sunny and warm. You breathed in the sweet scent as you walked across the city to meet with your husband after your arrival. You knew that he was most likely inside his forge, therefore you wasted no moment and went there without even checking inside your chambers.

Celebrimbor was inside the forge indeed, with an apron on as he was leaning by the desk and studying some projects. And next to him stood an Elf you had not seen before – tall, slim and blond. His robes were humbly grey and he looked up first when you entered the room as his green eyes sparkled and you gasped.

You knew that face.

At the sound of a gasp leaving your mouth, Celebrimbor turned around and smiled widely at the sight of you before approaching you in a hurry to give you a squeeze.

“My beloved, you’re back. How glad I am!” He exclaimed and you caressed his cheek briefly with a smile.

“So am I, my dear. Who is your friend and why do I feel like I know him?” You asked, looking at the man standing behind your husband again. For some reason, you could not stop staring at him.

He was… breathtaking.

“Oh…” Celebrimbor took a step back and blushed slightly. “That is…”

“Annatar,” the man interrupted him with a soft smile and approached you as he reached out for you slightly with his smooth hand. “It is a pleasure to be finally able to properly meet you, Lady of Eregion.”

“Annatar…?” You hummed to yourself but you allowed him to place a kiss upon the palm of your hand and while he was doing so, he looked intensely into your eyes, which made you feel slightly uncomfortable. Your husband, however, seemed to be content with this. Surprisingly.

“The Lord of Gifts,” Celebrimbor explained and you realised immediately he was platonically enamoured with that stranger. “The emissary of the Valar who arrived to assist me in my craft.”

“Please, my friend, you flatter me,” Annatar finally let go of your hand and straightened his back as he chuckled softly. The sound was like honey being poured over your heart. “We are all equals here,” he insisted as he looked back at you and you finally realised where you had known him from.

“Halbrand!” You gasped and Celebrimbor furrowed his brows as if you had just done something distasteful. “You were that human king, were you not, Lord Annatar?”

“I was in disguise, yes,” Annatar nodded at you. He didn’t seem to be offended in any way. “It was a test for your husband and he passed it quite easily.”

“Well, I have not,” you admitted, a little ashamed as you remembered all the times when you had treated Halbrand coldly or contemptuously even though he had shown you nothing but respect or kindness – smiling at you, bowing his head, asking you innocent questions to start a conversation.

There was even a time where you had been sure that… he had a crush on you. Now, of course, it seemed to be a funny thought. 

“Mistrust towards humans is understandable. Also, the test was for your husband and not for you, my Lady,” Annatar answered, a little playfully and you sighed out of relief.

“Please. I’m just (Y/N) for a man as noble as you,” you assured him but he shook his head gently.

“I would never dare,” he insisted and it felt oddly nice to hear such words. As if you were a goddess because certainly he was giving you respect worthy of one.

“And what are you working on?” You changed the subject as you approached your husband to wrap your hands around his elbow and look up at him.

“More rings,” Celebrimbor answered and you furrowed your brows.

“More? Gods, what for?” You asked.

“For the Dwarves. Our friends need help, too. Not just the Elves were in trouble. The whole Middle-earth is,” your husband explained and you nodded.

“I know. On my way back from Mirkwood, I had to run from the Orcs a few times on my way. That is concerning how close they are getting to us,” you admitted and Celebrimbor gave you a scolding look.

“You should have not travelled there alone!” He exclaimed.

“I am fine,” you sighed and walked away slightly to approach the table and look at the sketches of the projects. 

Celebrimbor looked at Annatar awkwardly as if he wondered if he should get harsher with you when his friend was around but the protectiveness over you won over him.

“Do not dismiss me like that!” He followed you as he stood behind you. “(Y/N), I have every right to worry and I will not allow you to ever again travel so far on your own!”

“You will not allow me?” You asked him as you raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to snap when Annatar was standing there and observing.

“My friend,” he interrupted you and your husband at this very moment as he put his hand on Celebrimbor’s shoulder. “I am sure that the Lady of Eregion is capable of protecting herself and of making decisions on her own. I understand your worry but that is not a reason to attack her.”

You were a little taken aback by his words because attack was not the right word at all – it seemed rather harsh. However, it worked on your husband as he blushed immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised to you.

“You are forgiven,” you assured him with a smile. After all, he was only worried about you and that was nothing unusual.

You didn’t expect an emissary of the Valar to understand the relationship between a husband and a wife, though. He was a pure creature that would never lower himself to such primal feelings and urges. Therefore, in his eyes romantic love must have been like in the fairytales – nothing but noble and innocent, calm and romantic. The ugly reality of it was ungraspable for him.

“I shall leave you to your work now,” you announced and nodded at Annatar once more, feeling his gaze upon you as your own eyes did not want to stop staring at him.

Eventually, you walked out of the forge and took a deep breath in. Why were you attracted to that man? You didn’t even know him much. You had never been this type of woman who would fall for people easily or right after meeting them. Especially since you had been married. 

And now… A creature so pure was making you feel so dirty.

Celebrimbor had always been the most devoted to his craft but  the amount of neglect he was presenting you with lately was becoming unbearable. He would spend his whole days inside the forge with Lord Annatar and his smiths. In fact, he was barely coming to your chambers and even when he was, it was only to sleep. He would barely exchange a sentence with you.

You did not like being ignored. Like a sunflower would always turn towards the sunlight, you thrived from attention. And yes, of course, the whole Eregion could be all over you since you were their Lady but it would never be the same.

You were sitting in the garden, looking pretty grim while reading a book without any interest in it whatsoever. And that was when Lord Annatar joined you, apparently taking a break from all the work inside the forge. At the sight of him, you looked away with an offended expression.

He still fascinated you but you couldn't help feeling bitter towards him for stealing your husband away from you.

“My Lady,” he started with his usual, gentle voice as he sat on the bench next to you. “I do understand your anger. I am taking all of your husband's attention, aren't I?”

His softness and remorse caused your heart to clench and you turned around to look at his handsome face.

“Anger is a big word, Annatar,” you cracked a smile,” and my husband has always been putting his craft above me,” you admitted.

Because it was true. It had always been like that. Only now you had Annatar to blame.

“That is something I cannot comprehend,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows while reaching out to a delicate necklace on your chest to play with it a little nervously, to release the tension he was causing within you.

“What is?” You asked.

“How could any man lucky enough to be called your husband ever neglect you for anything else. I cannot imagine what could be so important,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Are you not saving the world, Annatar? That is certainly more important,” you laughed softly.

“Yes, now it is such a case. But has it always been like this? Has your husband's craft always been saving our realm?” He asked and you hummed to yourself before looking away because his green eyes were starting to get a little too intense.

“His craft makes him happy and whatever makes Celebrimbor happy is a delight to me as well,” you whispered. “However, I simply… Miss him,” you admitted.

“What is it that you miss the most about your husband, my Lady?” Annatar asked with a dose of innocence and obliviousness that it didn't make you think of being nosy at all. 

And it felt good to have someone equal to talk to. All those Elves surrounding you were no real companions. You were the Lady of their city, therefore they were nothing but servants. Your husband was busy inside the forge and you were quite lonely. You had no one to share the desires of your heart with and Annatar was a pure being, sent to you to help. You could trust him completely.

“I miss being able to talk to him for hours. To talk to someone who understands me and knows me more than I know myself,” you said. “And I miss his closeness.”

“Closeness?” Annatar furrowed his brow and moved a little closer to you on the bench. He reached his hand out as if he was inviting your hand to squeeze his.

And so you did because it was too tempting to reject him instead.

“Like this?” He asked and closed both of his hands now around yours. You felt his thumbs caressing your skin delicately, sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yes,” you nodded as you gasped. “A-and…”

“His kisses?” He inquired and you froze for a moment before nodding your head as you already parted your lips slightly.

Something about him was drawing you in. His pure light of Valinor was intoxicating in a way that should be concerning because what being so pure would ever inspire such a sin?

Either way, why would you overthink such matters when his soft lips brushed over yours? He made sure that the kiss was nothing but a brief peck – under any other circumstances it could be interpreted as a platonic sign of affection.

And perhaps it was like that for him. Perhaps it was your dirty mind plagued with sinful thoughts.

From the corner of your eye you spotted your husband standing nearby and you got startled, moving away quickly. Your heart began to pound inside your chest and you expected him to get angry since he was known for getting jealous over you. Annatar, however, remained calm.

And Celebrimbor, surprisingly, seemed to be quite stoic as well.

“My friend,” Annatar greeted him with a wide smile. “I have just been talking about you with your wife.”

“Well, I'm delighted to see you two getting along,” Celebrimbor smiled and his smile was the most genuine, which made you tilt your head. Could he truly be so amazed by Annatar to even toss his jealousy aside?

If so, you felt a bit bad for him, therefore you stood up and approached your husband to kiss his cheek as you grabbed his hand with the both of yours.

“My dear, don't you need some rest? You look rather tired,” you pointed out but he only shook his head with a gentle smile.

“No. We must not take breaks if not necessary,” he insisted and nodded at Annatar.

Annatar stood up as well and joined your husband's side. You let go of Celebrimbor and watched them both walk away but the Lord of Gifts turned around once and looked so deep into your eyes that you felt your knees going weak.

And then they left and you went back to reading your book but this time you could focus on it even less.

Two weeks later Annatar joined you on the top of the watchtower where you sometimes liked to stand and stare at the moon. It was the tallest tower of Eregion and perhaps it was not noble or grand since mostly soldiers resided there but none of that was needed to observe the sky.

You turned around slightly and smiled at him. Under the moonlight he presented himself even more angelic. He stood next to you and put his hand next to yours on the balustrade.

“You seem to be melancholic, my Lady,” he pointed out and you chuckled.

“Has my melancholy drawn you here to me?” You asked.

“Not quite,” he admitted. “My Lady, might I ask how you became Celebrimbor’s wife?” He inquired and you furrowed your brows but you did not mind sharing this story with him.

“King Oropher sent my father to Lindon to represent him during the council. My father took my mother and I with him and we stayed in Eregion on the way to rest mid-journey. I left for Lindon a week later already engaged and a year passed before I came here to share my life with Celerimbor,” you explained and he nodded, visibly interested but you could sense his thirst for knowledge was not yet satisfied. “Do you wish to know more? What made me fall in love with him perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Annatar nodded, a little playfully. 

“His talent, his stubbornness,” you smiled. “The way he sometimes acts like a Princess,” you chuckled and so did Annatar. “But beneath that all… In the core… Well, he is… Celebrimbor is kind,” you looked deep into Annatar’s eyes as sudden guilt washed over you.

It was true. Your husband was good at heart. Perhaps more than you and you had always admired him for that. And now what were you doing? Spending time alone with a man who you seemed to be attracted to instead of avoiding him.

“My friend is a lucky man,” Annatar hummed to himself with a hint of a sad smile. “You speak of him so beautifully, my Lady.”

“He does not deserve any less,” you admitted.

“Neither do you,” he insisted and glanced up at the moon. “How strange,” he chuckled with a shy smile as he laid his eyes upon you once more. “When this certain moonlight caught your hair, you seemed the most beautiful lady in all Middle-earth,” he whispered and your eyes widened at his confession, which was rather bold. “But you always are, are you not?”

“Annatar, please, that is nearly blasphemy,” you dismissed him although you obviously enjoyed his phrase.

“I have a gift for you,” he confessed and you furrowed your brows. “That is the real reason why I followed you here. I wanted to give it to you without witnesses because I have forged it in secret,” he added, mysteriously, while he put his hand inside the pocket inside of his robes. And then he handed you… a necklace.

It was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen, though. Something about the details and the way the stone reflected the moonlight was captivating and breathtaking. It was exactly in the style that you enjoyed the most as well. You gasped at the sight.

“It is for you to wear because of our friendship,” Annatar explained as he handed you the necklace for you to take a better look at it. “I am the Lord of Gifts, after all. However, I am aware some people could interpret this gesture in a wrong way. That is why I wanted to give it to you in privacy with only the moon to witness,” he added and you nodded at him, understanding perfectly.

“Thank you… That is so… thoughtful. Especially when you are so busy with matters of such great importance,” you pointed out and handed him the necklace back, which made him furrow his brows. “Would you help me put it on?”

Annatar’s facial expression changed immediately as he smiled widely and nodded before taking the necklace from you. You turned around and gathered your hair to give him access to your exposed neck.

When his slim and delicate fingers brushed the sensitive skin there, you trembled slightly. And you could not help the feeling that his touch was lingering there for much longer than it was needed. However, you did not complain. And when the necklace was already clasped behind your neck, you turned around and his eyes sparkled at the sight of you wearing it. He reached his right hand out to put it over the pendant, which also meant the intimacy of being touched on your chest. He could feel your heartbeat now and you were sure he could sense how fast it was getting.

“I would like you to never take it off, my Lady,” he insisted. “I have forged it in a special way, just for you. It is a charm now; an amulet, and it is supposed to protect you in those dark times.”

Your eyes widened. It was rather surprising to get such a special treatment from him but at the same time your ego was very happy with it.

“You mean the world to my dearest friend. I could never allow anything bad to happen to you because the state of his mind is getting fragile already,” Annatar added and his words caused you to tilt your head.

“State of his mind? What is wrong?” You bit on your lower lip and you noticed Annatar’s eyes staring at your mouth nearly hungrily. When he caught you seeing that, he lowered his gaze and focused his eyesight on your chest – rising up and down with his pendant between your breasts squeezed with a corset underneath your gown.

“That is nothing for you to worry about,” Annatar whispered and moved his hand up to grab you by your chin gently.

“I am his wife. How can you expect me not to–” you began but he interrupted you with a gentle kiss.

It was a peck again and it was delicate. Perhaps it could be interpreted as platonic, too. If one was delusional enough but you were not.

For the sake of your marriage and your friendship with Annatar, you had to be, though.

It made you wonder, though, what his nature truly was like. Should not the messengers of the Valar be pure and free of such urges?

“That was inappropriate,” you commented, taking a deep breath in and looking into his eyes. You already forgot the whole thing about your husband’s state of mind.

Annatar looked confused and hurt by your comment.

“Why, my Lady? Are we not friends? What was inappropriate about a little peck on the lips?” He asked, visibly hurt. It made you feel stupid. What if it had been nothing but an innocent gesture and it was your odd fascination and attraction that had interpreted it in this sinful way?

“I… I am sorry,” you mumbled.

“Sometimes, we see what we want to see. Instead of perceiving the things the way they truly are,” Annatar pointed out and you nodded, ashamed of yourself. “I am quite surprised that a lady as noble as you would ever accuse me of such an act,” he added, making you feel even worse.

“Please, forgive me. I… I might have overreacted but it is not caused by my mistrust towards you. It is simply because of my loyalty towards my husband,” you insisted and Annatar’s face softened a little but when you nodded at him to gather your skirts and walk away, you could see he still looked pretty hurt.

Just like Annatar had asked you to, you were not taking the new necklace off. Your husband never asked about it, though, too focused on his work. Perhaps it was for the better because your mind was getting constantly plagued with thoughts that you wished not to have at all – visions of Annatar. Fantasies, dreams; whatever they were.

He had been occupying your mind ever since you had met him but it had never been so excessive and inappropriate. Each time it was happening, you could feel the beautiful necklace pulsating on your skin but at the same time you could not find the strength within you to take it off. 

It was like an obsession but it was happening against your will. But was it? Was it really?

Despite your awkward behaviour on the watchtower, Annatar had not given up on your friendship. You were spending more time with him than with Celebrimbor these days. He was a good listener and very gentle with you. The way he was staring at you was making you feel like you were the most important creature in all Middle-earth. He seemed to be very protective of you as well, constantly reaching out and initiating the physical touch. And the touch itself was soothing and delicate like everything about him.

But what pained you the most was that his work was of the same kind as your husband’s and yet – Celebrimbor did not make any effort to spend more time with you, meanwhile Annatar was your constant companion.

The constancy of his presence was making you feel embarrassed, though, because how could you laugh with him or look into his soft eyes while you knew very well that a few hours earlier you had woken up all sweaty after dreaming of his kisses and his touch lingering all over your naked body? Yet, it was a sweet torture to endure.

On that evening you did not expect Annatar to come to you because you had spent quite a long time already during the day and you knew that he was busy working inside the forge with your husband. Therefore, you opened the windows slightly, letting the cool breeze in and, alone as usual these days, you sat by the vanity table to brush your hair.

The pendant on the necklace from Annatar pulsated slightly on your naked skin as it sparkled in the moonlight. You touched it gently with your fingertips, already sensing what was coming. Another vision, another fantasy.

You had given up already on fighting them. They were the only nice thing happening to your neglected flesh lately. So, you sighed and put the brush down as you stood up and laid down on the silky and cold sheets of your bed. Your sheer nightgown pulled up to your hips and you dipped your finger between your folds, sighing at how wet you already were.

Your finger gathered the wetness and smeared it all over your bumpy and swollen clit that seemed to pulsate under your touch alongside the pendant stuck to the sweaty skin of your chest.

With your free hand you roamed under the nightgown’s fabric and squeezed your breast before rubbing circles around your perky nipples. Letting out a moan, you bucked your hips up into the cold air as your thumb was pressing the tingly spot between your legs, massaging it gently and causing your sight to get hazy.

And all you could think of was him – Annatar. You remembered how close he had been sitting to you on that day, how he had been leaning in and his hair had been tickling your face as his nose nearly brushed yours. How sweet his breath had felt upon your face and how his big and delicate hands had been holding yours. 

Gods, what would it be like to be his wife instead of your husband’s? He would never neglect you, he would never make you feel unwanted. He would worship you like a goddess, kiss every inch of your body and praise you. And imagining that was what caused you to shiver as goosebumps appeared all over your skin. 

You moved your hand from your breast to put two of your fingers inside your needy hole clenching around nothing; with your sweet juice leaking out of it after all those sinful visions. Fucking yourself with two of your curled fingers, hitting the very same spot your thumb was massaging but from the inside, was enough to make you cum with a cry muffled by the pillow. The intensity but also frustration that it had been nothing but your own touch satisfying your needs caused a few tears to stream down your cheeks.

As you laid there, trying to compose yourself and catch your breath, you heard someone knocking upon the door. You froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. However, pretending to not be inside was foolish because where else would you be at that time?

So, you stood up quickly and allowed the nightgown to fall down as you quickly fixed your hair in the mirror and walked up to the doors to open them.

At the sight of Annatar himself, you gasped and felt your cheeks heating up.

“A-Annatar… What are you doing here at this hour?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly and your chest still rising up and down fast.

“Thank Gods you are safe, my Lady,” he sighed out of relief and you furrowed your brows. “Forgive me, I had some odd sort of feeling that you were in danger. That you needed me to help you,” he explained and you only looked away at those words.

“I… I am fine,” you assured him but your voice trembled.

“Are you sure? My Lady, you seem to be feverish,” he pointed out and put the palm of his hand on your forehead. “You are burning hot,” he added and you laid your eyes upon him again.

“It is not caused by illness. Please, I am fine,” you said but he was already inside your chambers and closing the doors behind him with his foot. “Annatar, what are you doing? We should not be alone in here,” you pointed out but his eyes sparkled.

“Something tells me that you need my assistance, after all. Please, let me fix whatever is bothering you. I was sent to Eregion to help,” he insisted and you chuckled at that. He had no idea of how dirty your desires could be.

Or… did he?

He lowered his hand and pulled the sheer fabric of your nightgown up slightly to be able to touch you between your legs. When you felt his slim and cold finger brushing your still wet cunt, you gasped and moaned uncontrollably. He laughed softly at that.

“You have been pleasuring yourself, my Lady,” he pointed out. “Are you that neglected by my friend?” He asked.

“You… You have no idea,” you whispered and rutted your hips forward nearly instinctively, like an animal driven by primal urges – you had no shame and practically humped his hand while writhing slightly. You had to put your hands on his shoulders to be steady. 

“I think I do,” Annatar whispered softly and leaned in so his face was closer to yours. He curled two of his fingers and you whined when you felt them on your swollen clit, still sensitive after your first orgasm. “Please, relax, my Lady. Let me ease you, let me help…” He breathed out and you nodded while wincing out of pleasure when his fingers caught your bumpy clit between them and squeezed gently, causing you to shiver and let out a cry. “So responsive, so sensitive…” He hummed and rolled your clit between his fingers. “Gods, what beauty you are when you are writhing out of desire and pleasure. If I was your husband, I would only want to defile you over and over.”

His words were dirty and they should concern you deeply but they were only making you lose your mind even further instead. You were stripped of all of your shame now as you dug your fingers into his shoulders and bucked your hips up and down, riding his hand and moaning like a bitch in heat. Release was all that you cared about and you had a feeling already deep in your tummy that this orgasm would wash over you with intensity that you had not known in ages.

“Please…” You whimpered.

“I am not denying you, my Lady,” Annatar smiled teasingly and put more pressure onto your clit as you hissed. “You have to work for it yourself.”

“I… I need you to…” You squeezed your eyes shut but still tried to let out a coherent sentence out of your parted lips. “I need you to tell me when. Command me,” you pleaded.

Something about him was turning you into a completely submissive whore and it was a sensation brand new but also incredibly pleasurable because nothing felt better than to just submit and follow orders. Your head was empty while all that mattered was your next orgasm and Annatar’s overlooming presence.

Dark presence, you noticed that now but you did not care anymore, humping his hand like there was no tomorrow.

He seemed to like your words as he smirked. But instead of gifting you with what you were craving the most, he retreated his hand and watched your whines with satisfaction. You were dizzy and trembling, still bucking your hips into nothing as you felt your juices leaking out of your needy and greedy cunt.

“Sit down,” Annatar ordered, his voice harsher than usual and his eyes turning darker.

You obeyed him instantly, pulling your nightgown all the way up before you sat up on your bed with a big and fluffy pillow behind your back. Opening your wet and trembling legs for him, greedily requesting for his assistance felt as if you were a goddess that was about to be worshipped on an altar.

Annatar practically growled when he joined you on the bed and lowered himself to breathe in your sweet scent. You felt his breath on your hot cunt and whined at that soft stimulation as your clit twitched needily.

“This is torture…” You whined and threw your head back.

“Not nearly as much as it was a torture for me to watch you all that time and knowing you could never be mine,” Annatar confessed as he placed a few soft kisses upon your trembling thighs. “You have no idea how often I dreamt of this. Ever since I came here in my lower form that has disgusted you so much…” He teased as if he knew that at this moment your desire was too big to be picky. You would even let that commoner Halbrand between your legs to devour you. This thought alone was enough to make you whimper and buck your hips up impatiently. “Shh… Shh…” Annatar shushed you before finally licking a wet, fat stripe up your cunt, causing you to shiver and squeeze your eyes shut even tighter.

He grabbed you by your thighs and forced them open as much as he could, exposing all of your pulsating and swollen clit. However, he ignored it for now and allowed the tip of his tongue to dip in between your folds and gather your wetness with it while teasing your clenching hole. You laid your hands on top of his and squeezed his wrists out of pleasure and frustration.

And then he finally moved his tongue up and teased your clit from underneath, causing you to cuss as a shiver went down your body straight to your toes. He teased that sensitive spot a few times before placing a gentle kiss on the top of your clit and eventually sucking on it greedily, making you see nothing but hot white.

You were lost in pleasure and in all the sensations of your flesh. In fact, you had no idea where you were and what your name was. You only cared to be with Annatar and to be pleasured by him. If you had been born to be nothing but his whore, you would be happy with that for sure.

Whining and trembling with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, you could not hear your husband approaching and you certainly could not see him opening the doors slightly and freezing at the sight of Annatar pleasuring his wife with his mouth as she writhed like a common whore.

Celebrimbor stood there, petrified, not knowing what to do. The still-sane part of him was furious but some part of him was fascinated and even… honoured. Not knowing what to do, he just stood there and watched. And that was when Annatar looked up from between his wife’s legs and stared deep into Celebrimbor’s eyes while licking a fat stripe as his eyes sparkled mischievously.

You were close, so close, but he knew exactly what to do to keep you on the edge. Whenever he sucked you neary dry and felt your muscles tensing, he would let go of your clit and go back to teasing your folds slightly. But then, he decided it was time to finally give you your release as he entered two of his curled fingers deep into your cunt. Your walls clenched around them, trying to suck them in and he began to fuck you with them as quickly as he could, watching in awe how your juices were coating his hand and the most depraved sound filled your chambers.

While his two fingers fucked you mercilessly, he put his thumb over your sensitive clit and pressed on it, making you moan.

“Now,” he ordered you harshly but you could not know that he was looking into your husband’s eyes while doing so. “Ease yourself, my Lady,” he cooed to you. “Let yourself go,” he added and at that command you fell apart around his fingers while trembling and gasping for air, twisting your limbs out of pleasure. The intensity of this orgasm was so big that you kept shaking and bucking your hips up even when it was long gone.

Annatar leaned in to place one last kiss upon your swollen clit as he looked up to meet Celebrimbor’s eyes once more.

“Now, rest, my Lady, you deserve it,” he whispered and put the blanket over you before moving up to be on your level. You opened your hazy eyes to see his face and he smiled gently while caressing your hot cheek. “What a delight you are to me. Come to me next time you feel the itch, I would never neglect your desires.”

You were too tired to answer that, so you simply smiled and closed your eyes, falling asleep nearly right after that.

At the sight of you asleep, Annatar fixed his hair nonchalantly and walked out of your chambers, walking by Celebrimbor who was staring at him with widened eyes.

“What seems to be the problem, my friend?” Annatar asked him, gently, as if nothing had just happened.

“I… I don’t know what to think of that,” Celebrimbor confessed.

“You neglect her for the forge and I keep her happy for you. You can focus on your lifetime’s work and your legacy while your wife remains satisfied. Is that not perfect?” Annatar asked him as if he was accusing his friend of being ungrateful.

“Yes, but…”

“Do you doubt me, my friend?” Annatar asked him, quite harshly.

“N-no… Never,” Celebrimbor shook his head. “And it is an honour, I admit… My wife being graced with your touch… I–”

“Do not worry then,” Annatar patted his shoulder. “Focus on our craft instead and allow me to take care of the rest,” he added before walking away and leaving Celebrimbor alone with his thoughts, which were nothing but a mess.

And with his wife sleeping like a baby in their bed, with her thighs still sticky from her juices mixed with the Dark Lord’s saliva and a necklace corrupted with his thick, black blood around her neck.

Sauron smirked to himself. Oh, how he loved to fuck with their minds. Nearly as much as he loved to fuck her, he thought, as he licked his lips to be able to taste her again. How sweet.

It would nearly be a shame to get rid of her later, when the right time would come.

MASTERLIST

[voxisdaddy]

Rewritten

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

C/TW: Implied cheating/infidelity, depression

Type: Oneshot | Angst but bittersweet ending

In which even if you were meant to love Lucifer, despite everything’s that happened, you could still love another.

It was difficult existing sometimes.

You felt like you served no purpose. Like you failed the one thing you were meant to do. What was that one thing?

Betrothed to Lucifer—the favourite son of the Heavenly Father.

Things were so heavenly between the two of you at first. Lucifer, while not enthusiastic about being given a bride, quickly fell for you. And you? Well, you were made for him. Of course you loved him. Anyone who knew of you two, all agree that you two are a match made in heaven.

If only that lasted the eternity that was promised to you.

When the creation of Adam and Lilith came to be, your joyous attitude to this new wonder quickly started to sour. It only worsened when you eventually found out the truth. Lucifer didn’t love you anymore. Whatever he felt for you seemed to pale in comparison to what he felt for Lilith.

Then the creation of Eve came to be. Lucifer, ever the dreamer and occasional trouble maker, meddled in that too—carving an ugly mark into heavens plans which would lead to the banishment of Lucifer and his new bride.

You had spent many nights and days sobbing over the man. How could he love another? How could he promise to love you for eternity and lie? How could he sneak off and…never formally end things with you if he no longer loved you?

Your heart ached for centuries. He betrayed you. Angels…shouldn’t be capable of that. But he had it in him to do it anyways.

Naturally you’d find a weird sort of friendship with Adam. It wasn’t long until he came to Heaven as the first human soul when you became acquainted. You could see through him—his attitude that everything’s okay. You saw that same look in your own eyes every time you looked in a mirror. Just like you he was hurt. The two people who were meant to be his forever loves were taken from him. And his sons turned out…less than ideal.

As centuries and centuries went by, things became easier. Lucifer wasn’t on your mind all the time by a certain point. Eventually the only times you’d remember him would be if you happen to overhear someone sharing the story of Lucifer—Heaven’s most famous fallen angel.

You didn’t think you’d stay single and moping forever would you? Of course not. As heaven got more populated, the more charming faces came about, each with personalities of all kind at every corner. Heaven’s never felt more lively.

Eventually you’d meet someone who found a way into your heart—intentionally or not. You didn’t know you were even capable of loving again.

You hated it.

You hated that every moment you spent with your partner, a part of you ached. You hated that every time you gazed into their eyes, you couldn’t get fully lost in them. You hated how an ‘I love you’ felt like a betrayal.

You hated Lucifer.

Even if you could fall in love again a part of you yearned for Lucifer. How could you not feel it? You were quite literally made for him. You were made to love him. You didn’t have a choice on who you could and couldn’t love when you were created. Your heart and very being was created to love Lucifer for every eternity.

“I wish I wasn’t created sometimes, your highness.”

Sera tries her best to offer you a safe space to vent. A place to let you be upset, for you to mourn, cry, be angry, and sometimes laugh;

“—and despite my wings still healing from the noodle incident, they still took me on a cloud flying date, your highness! They held onto me and never let me go!”

Seeing you fall in love again is a favourite of Sera’s.

With that comes with it’s heavy weight of guilt and anguish due to who you were made for but…you’re proving the odds to become your own person.

Even when you meet Lucifers daughter, you can’t help but feel satisfied with yourself for how strong you feel like you’ve moved on. You thought you’d never forget a single detail of Lucifer but when seeing him again through his daughter? Well, you hardly recognized her.

A part of you will always long for Lucifer—a part of you you’ve grown to hate but learn to ignore—but at least now as you say your vows to someone who actually means every single word of love and promise, you know you can love again. And no matter how hard the strings tug, your love will never waver for your new life partner.

The new partner reader meets can be anyone really. I wanted to write something to join in on the “Lucifer leaving reader for Lilith” stories that pop up every now and then, but give it a more happy ending for reader

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 8.5k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior, panic attack. Sexual themes: hematolagnia, body worship, masturbation, bite kink, olfactophilia, voyeurism.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣Chapter 2: Wolf in sheep's clothing❣

Love is a word that deserves closer consideration, halfway between the dry hypocrisy of the dictionary and its deep sacral meaning.

What a strange feeling…

Love, both virtuous and vicious, motivates us to accomplish great feats yet also triggers the commission of heinous crimes. This mysterious and inexplicable feeling interweaves its complex structure within us, becoming the most unstable, contentious, and hazardous of all human emotions.

Love is the fundamental source of all our emotions and experiences in the world, both beautiful and disgusting.

Love has a multitude of motives, including the desire for control, submission, care, seduction, lust, protection, worship, creation and, of course, destruction.

The feeling is manifold; We can call this complex emotion by different names, including passion, hatred, obsession, alienation, objectification, mania, unattainable dreams, happiness, idolatry, spiritual unity, and possibly the most poetic of all—the second half of the soul.

Humans crave love from birth until death. This desire is inherent and everlasting. As we take our first breath, we unconsciously absorb the toxic essence of love, which settles in our lungs like delicate, silky flowers.

This need is woven into the very structure of our DNA, an animal instinct that inadvertently condemns us to eternal suffering.

Love exists as a palpable entity, often obscured by human perceptions of carefree happiness and joy. It can be likened to a lurking deep-sea creature, concealing its true visage, branching and moving under the thin surface of our skin.

She is as cunning as a murderer's grin, and she is well aware of the inevitable tragic end of every story she is about to tell. Though we may be in the belief that we have had a joyful life, in reality all our actions have been under the impulse of love. For the sake of this deceptive feeling, which unites us for a moment in the ecstatic joy and privileges of angelic ugliness.

In the end, our physical bodies will serve to feed the earthworms, to house the larvae and to nourish the roots.

Never again will they gaze into each other's eyes, never again will the turquoise flame passion between them ignite, and never again will their lips meet in a voluptuousness kiss. 

Love has the power to drive us insane, to blind us, and even to lead to our demise.

And yet, in life, it is possible to miss everything but love.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

 3rd POV 

I want to fill my mouth with your name. I want to eat you whole. Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems, and a Song of Despair

“You look pathetic, San. Don't you think so? I wonder what Seonghwa would say to that?” Yeosang lazily runs his pale spidery fingers over Yoru's silky black fur, looking with contempt at the naked brunette stretched on a pile of knocked-down sheets and pillows.

The rings on his hands burn with blood, like the eyes of the Devil.

San looked blissfully relaxed and languid, like a caressing predator. His golden skin seemed to glow from within with an otherworldly glow as the translucent sunlight greedily licked his body with its soft touch.

Still, there was something vaguely animalistic, almost primitively predatory, about him, which in no way connected him with the arrogant aloofness that was inherent in the entire vampire race.

There was hot blood running through his veins, making him even more dangerous.

He was unbridled.

“I don't care what Seonghwa says, if he says a word at all in the next few centuries. Personally, I would prefer that his magnificent body continue to rest in the coffin for a very long time.” A smug smile played on his sensual lips. “And unlike you, my dear brother, I don't hide my true desires.” A slow, almost lazy glance from San's silvery eyes swept over the slender body of Yeosang sitting in the chair, lingering for a moment on the pale pink patch of soft skin on his temple.

He imagines, not without pleasure, how, with particular cruelty, he tears it from the porcelain face of his beloved brother with his long claws, leaving behind a wet, gaping wound.

San hated it. His birthmark is indisputable proof of his connection with his beautiful Rose.

The sign that binds their souls tightly into a single whole.

He should have found her first that night.

“Look at you, Sangie. You act like a coward, hiding in dark corners and wandering in her dreams. Perhaps I could understand you if your wayward antics gave her pleasure. If our Rose woke up with your name on her lips, all wet and needy, so desperate for more.

You have to ignite her passion and her desire to be loved, make her feel special, and fill her with thirst and hunger for our touch and our love. All her thoughts should belong only to us. But how did we end Yeosangie? Tell me, huh? Our Rosa has an animal terror before you. Sarang is afraid of you. Isn't that really pathetic? You know, I can smell that sweet scent of fear on her sheets.” San buried his face in the soft fabric of the silk pillow on which Sarang usually slept and took a deep, slow breath. “So damn delicious… I want to eat her whole.”

All he wanted now was to feel her from the inside, so that her scent would stay forever in his lungs, merge with his blood, be absorbed into his skin, and become an integral part of it.

God, he is prepared to worship this woman and idolize her in every conceivable way. 

She was his.

Not in some figurative or metaphorical sense, no. She was his everything. A soul that fills the shell with his dead body, blood black as night, that runs through his veins, his thoughts. Every second of his life. San couldn't tell where he ended, and she began, for you were two halves fused together into a single breathing living being.

The beginning and the end of his life

If he could know death, which was no longer possible for him, he would be happy to suffocate on that heady aroma that was spinning his head like a powerful drug. And to do so until death takes him into his arms.

How beautiful would his death be! Silk sheets, roses, and Sarang are the only true loves.

“She smells so divine, Sangie; how can you resist this temptation?” His back arched gracefully. Under the golden canvas of the skin, the jagged vertebral bones were outlined, and the flexible muscles were stretched like tight velvet ribbons. The relief of his chiseled abs pressing against the bed, his thighs rushing up, creating a perfect s-line.

He moved so smoothly. A large predatory cat, draining gross sexuality and animal dominance. A true erotic vision, fringed by the diffused glow of the lazy midday sun. The smell of her fear brought out the worst in him and made him crave to devour her heart and soul, but he couldn't do it.

“You don't know shit, San. You come here whenever you want and act like a cranky kid, pouting and expressing anger because you couldn't get her first. What a pity, because I was the one who made the connection. I can feel her; I can feel her in my veins; I don't have to act like a bitch in heat fucking her bed.” Yeosang's voice was indifferently cold, so deceptively calm, but San could clearly hear the poisonous malice in every word he said.

It looks like he hit a nerve.

“You tell me you'd never been in my place, Yeosangie?”  San grinned, and on his cheeks appeared charming dimples. “You never could lie;you always spilled everything to Seonghwa like a good puppy at the first snap of his fingers. You should ask Wooyoung to teach you some lessons if you want to play games with me. We all know exactly what you do, so didn't be shy about it, honey. Do you think you can hide from Hongjoong your little dream manipulation, constant stalking, and night visits? Or how pathetic and pathetic you look, whining and wriggling like a whore when you come in with her dirty laundry, which you hide under your pillow. Oh my God, what will Seonghwa say when he finds out? You should care. Our good boy has gone to the dark side; he's going to be so disappointed that he lost his mutt. Although you know, maybe you and Wooyoung aren't as different as I originally thought. He's just as pathetic a puppy as you are, my beautiful brother, and look how that turned out for him. Perhaps you'll be the next one to end up in a coffin. I'd change my behavior if I were you. Bad boys get punished.” There was mockery and outright bullying in his voice.

That's right, they were family; their loyalty to each other was an unbreakable blood oath, and if necessary, they would be willing to die for each other. Blood is thicker than water. But the bond they shared with Sarang was different from anything that could be explained. She wasn't a missing part; to think so would be foolish. No, she was a part of themselves, a part of their dead souls, filling their bodies with a semblance of life. Something extremely more dangerous than any possible blood bond. A bond where the lines between reality and fantasy, obsession and morality, understanding and rationality were blurred.  And that bond was the reason, why Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa were still resting in their luxurious coffins. Iron, velvet, and crystal—so completely different, so frighteningly the same.

San remembers with pleasure how good it felt to drive stakes into their black hearts. The spell would be broken with a kiss. Perfectly. He hopes their sleep will be eternal. This time, it should be different. He will be the first, yes. San will be first—not Seonghwa, not Hongjoong, not Wooyoung, but him.

That's right. Everything will be the way it should be from the beginning. After all, he was the one who started it all.

Once upon a time, Sarang belonged only to him.

“San…” Yeosang hissed menacingly, digging his bony fingers forcefully into the soft feline fur, causing Yoru to meow painfully and curl up into a ball in his lap. His fangs bared, scratching his plump lower lip, and black veins trickled in an intricate pattern down his thin neck.

The brunette laughed and rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of the pillow, covering his eyes dreamily.

The silk felt wonderful against his bare skin.

“You hiss like a kitten; will you show me your sharp little teeth?”

“You'd better watch out for your tongue, or I might rip it out.” The fierce gaze literally stabbed him. It burned and penetrated to the core of his being.

“I dare you.” The bloodied lips opened, allowing the pointed tip of his tongue to traverse the tortured, swollen flesh, licking away the blood that seeped to the surface.

“Let his lips be like rose petals - red as fresh blood.” Said the Queen Witch.

San covered his eyes and completely ignored the angry brunette. He loved to play with fire. It was his nature. If it had been Hongjoon or Mingi in Yeosan's place, he might have thought twice before poking the tiger with a stick, and of course he would never intentionally offend Seonghwa; the outcome of any of those confrontations would not have been in his favor. But this was Yeosang - airy and gentle as melting snow.

The shadows of San's long eyelashes lay in a lacy pattern on his heart-wrenching cheekbones. They were one of the most striking features of his appearance - sharp and angular - and they made his face a masterpiece. A creation skilfully crafted by the hand of a master.

Yeosang's beauty was soft and angelic, the kind of beauty one might see on the faces of the winged, plump cherubs beneath the vaulted ceilings of Gothic cathedrals. He had once admired their beauty so much, especially when he tore their flesh with his claws and tore baby, fluffy wings from their pale, soft bodies.

Such an exquisite, decadent taste.

San's beauty was of a completely different kind: vicious, dark and hypnotic. Chiseled like the eternally frozen perfection of a pagan marble god, every line of his face was sharp and deadly seductive. From the feline cut of his eyes, shimmering with silvery immortality, to the capriciously curved corners of his plump lips, always inflamed and soft, so tortured and tender from incessant biting and kissing…

San's appearance was sinful.

He was the most desirable of all nightmares, the special kind that seduces the girls of the church, then fills his bathtub with their blood and organizes orgies in the bloody pieces of their torn bodies. San was formidable and intimidating, but his aura was alluring and seductive. The terrible prospect of an inevitable end and death had never looked so appealing. Maybe he was having an affair with you, or maybe he was going to kill you. There was lust, danger, and rage. There was a delicate balance between horror and desire, as if he were the embodiment of both the horror and the charm of God. He was the man everyone secretly dreams about when they caress themselves before going to bed, in a cold, lonely bed.

He was the person who made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and who made you experience a shivering sensation of fear that would spread over all of your exposed areas.

San was undoubtedly that person. Despite the potential for his eyes to linger on your skin, his presence was desired. Exquisite wounds, reminiscent of blossoms from damaged tissue, were created by his razor-sharp canines.

Death and sex were not enough for San; he had a craving for disorder and hot sensations.

He always wanted more, whether it was blood or pleasure. He never felt satisfied.

His sole desire was Rose—just her alone.

“Do you smell that Sangie scent?” San inhaled deeply again that intoxicating divine scent, resisting the urge to savor her flavor like a dog, choking and whimpering. “Mmmm, I want her so badly. I want her whole, every fucking cell of her body. She's driving me crazy.”

Sarang emitted a scent that was distinctly sharp and overpowering in its fragrance. Reminiscent of aged wine, it was infused with the bitterness of dark chocolate, the piquancy of red pepper, and the sweetness of roses. It tastes like sin and blessing at the same time. Like a slight saltiness akin to the tears she had shed, he longed to lick them off her rounded, flushed cheeks. The fruity sweetness of illicit fruit. The taste of his own blood. The metal and thick aroma of their sexual encounter. Thick as semen and honey.

San wants to have her. Wants her to love him. He desires his love to be reciprocated as fervently and passionately as he does.

His only wish is her love.

Although it is not enough for him to possess her love, he wants her to have an intense and almost sadistic affection for him—one that goes beyond what seems possible. He yearns for her to destroy him. Because he's confident in Sarang's ability to do so. He needs more. More than she could offer him, more than she could ever agree to. He is but a slave, created to worship her.

San's aim is to belong to her; he would go to any extent, even to the point of destroying the entire world, if that is what it takes to achieve that. The value of her love is immeasurable, and his objective is absolute.   She is the center of his life and the very essence of his being.   She is the haunting presence in his dreams, a seductive force that both seduces and tortures. The midnight idol of his desire, the serpent that dwells around his heart, tempts him to sin.

San craves her love so much, and that need is so painful, so all-consuming, and so twisted. If need be, he would kill her with his own hands, just to be sure that no one else would ever have her.

Sharing her with his brothers was like hellfire burning him from the inside out, but it was a paltry sacrifice he could make in exchange for her love.

This time, he won't let her go. This time, not even death would dare separate them. Saran will be his. She will be theirs. In life. In death. Forever and ever.

Soon.

It will happen so soon. San can't wait for the day when his Goddess is beneath him, in the cage of his body, sprawled on the black velvet of his bed. With his fangs deep into her sweet flesh, and she will screaming his name in a haze of ecstatic pleasure.

He would make her see stars. San will take her all the way to the doors of Heaven.

“San,” “San,” “San,” “San” over and over, until her voice completely collapses to a painful wheeze, until he absorbs every tiny sound she makes, every moan, every breath, every barely perceptible note, until all she will remember is his name.

Until Sarang whispers right into his lips, “I am yours.”

Soon.

In the meantime, San can patiently wait. He will wait as he always has, obediently and without complaint. He will be such a good boy. San will wait obediently, as he has done for centuries and centuries before. Until the time is right to pursue his desires, he will take all that he has dreamt of, and God will save the souls of those who get in his way.

Right now, he thinks he could die here — in her bed, surrounded by the lingering warmth of her body and her maddening scent. He would like nothing more than to show her all his passion and devotion and all the love he could give her.

He dreams of running his lips over her skin and tasting her until his whole face is wet and glistening with her juices. He will fuck her into oblivion until night turns to day and then drown her in tenderness, worshiping her caress-weary body as an obedient slave should.

Sometimes, he thinks it's not normal—the feelings he has for her. Such love simply cannot exist. How can someone love someone so much? Is it normal to hate the very existence of nature and the heavenly bodies for being able to see her beauty, which should belong to him alone?

However, these were only momentary musings until he regained his composure, dispelling any doubts. How could he even question his love? It felt so perfect and effortless, like breathing. How could such thoughts even enter his mind?

Her love was a life worth living.

It was destined since the dawn of time, when spirits roamed the earth, the sun was young, and the old gods had not yet vanished. She belonged to them, and they belonged to her. They sensed her first breath on their lips. He felt. 

Their love bloomed again—a blood rose.

Soon…

These fantasies drove him mad; every cell ignited with the desire to possess, awakening his animal predatory nature. The ugly nature of his genuinely depraved being.

He pictured Sarang biting into his neck and taking possession of him. She aimed at him as if he were nothing more than a thing, a toy for her amusement.

“Say my name, Sarang. Express your fondness for me and acknowledge that I am your only one. I want you to own me and claim me as yours. Say my name until it burns your lips. Again and again. Drink my blood, bite me to death; I'm nothing more than your slave, just a pathetic means of pleasure. Hit me. Hurt me, I beg you. I need it so badly. Please, my love, I am begging you to love me. Love… Love me so much until it kills me. That is what I wish for.”

His hips moved smoothly, grinding his arousal against the rumpled bedclothes. San moaned, breathlessly gasping as he found the perfect angle to satisfy his intense desire for release. He needs to cum; he couldn't leave here without cumming. He buried his face in the pillow, panting and whimpering like a wild animal possessed. His primal instincts demanded he leave his mark on her, to possess her and fuck her into oblivion until her belly bloated from the amount of cum pouring into her and her head felt light and empty.

His claws lengthened, digging into the mattress, leaving sickening jagged stripes as his hips moved uncontrollably, continuing to rub his throbbing wet cock against the silken folds of the crumpled sheets.

The sounds he made were almost heavenly.

Soft, extended moans that turned into pitiful sobs. He sounded like an angel in the throes of passion.

In his fantasies, San imagined drinking from her as long scarlet streams of her sweet blood ran down their naked bodies, staining everything red. How deeply he entered her body, seeing the imprint of his cock on her flat stomach as her neat, pointed nails plowed into his back into gaping lacerations.

His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. San needed to cum; he was on the verge of madness. The need for pleasure was more obvious than anything around him at the moment. The transparent essence of his arousal dripped down onto the sheets, sticking to his golden, wet skin with every movement of his muscled thighs.

His thoughts returned to the dark, vicious images of hot animal sex. A fine shiver ran down his entire body.

He will run his tongue along every contour of the intricate bloody lines, licking up every last drop. First, the longest neck-open and vulnerable to his insatiable mouth, then lower down the hollow between the heavy breasts, rising in time with her labored breathing. His lips would close around the hard pink nipples, scraping them with his teeth, making her squeal and gasp. Lower down her flat belly, where the flowers of his hungry kisses and hard touches bloomed. Until his tongue is between the moist puffy folds of her pussy, he runs the pointed tip along the soft silken flesh, plunging deeper into the tight hole where blood mingles with her natural sweetness. He wants to feel the velvety, wet walls of her vagina clench and quiver around his tongue.

“Sarang!” His voice was hoarse, and his hands gripped the sheets beneath him with such force that his knuckles turned white, almost tearing the skin.

He looked pornographic.

San was so lost in his fantasies that he had completely forgotten about Yeosang, who was still in this room, until he was reminded of it with a sharp, painful tug of his hair. Long, thin fingers gripped the dark, damp strands with force and tilted his head back rigidly, revealing a view of a strong neck with veins swollen from exertion and beads of sweat running down her

“Here we go, such a pathetic, stupid bitch.” Yeosang said it with mockery in his voice. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, and San could feel it on his skin as the brunet whispered in his ear. “Look at you, you're nothing more than a slut; where's your pride, San, eh? The great general of the dark army, the heartless ice prince, the ruthless Ripper, is nothing more than a drooling whore shamefully rubbing his cock against the sheets.” Yeosang's fingernails dug painfully into his scalp, tugging harder on the long silk strands the color of night.

“Yes, yes, keep calling me that.” His request sounded like a plea. All Yeosang's words made him move faster, almost in desperation.

The rhythm of his hips became erratic and uncontrollable. He was close. His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat.

“Are you imagine fucking her, Sannie, hmm? Or what would it taste like? I bet the taste will be heavenly; she's sweeter than ever in this life. Oh no, I know exactly what you're thinking.” A mocking chuckle escaped his ruby-red lips. “You want her to bite you.” Those wicked lips pressed against the frantically beating pulse point. “Right here.” Yeosang's teeth sank with force into the flushed skin of San's neck—that particular sensitive spot on his neck beneath a scattering of pale freckles.

San's eyes rolled back in pleasure, his mouth opened in a silent moan, and his hips shook with the intensity of his orgasm. Thick, hot cum splattered onto the sheets, staining them with the pale, milky liquid.

The brunet unclenched his teeth, releasing the tender skin. The bite mark was wine-red, with swollen incisor impressions and drops of black blood in the hollows. A poisonous flower, tempting to know sin.

“Sannie, look at the mess you'd made. Truly a royal fuck. I always thought it was more Mingi's style.” Finally, thin but surprisingly strong fingers let go of the silken strands, allowing San to rest his face tiredly against the pillow. His whole body relaxes after the overwhelming orgasm. The entire pillow is soaked with drool and sweat, and semen cools beneath his stomach, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He opens one eye and looks up at the vampire leaning over him with a lecherous smile.

“Would you like to join me, my beautiful brother? We still have a few hours before she gets home.” The brunet rolls onto his back to make room for Yeosang in the bed. His fingers run along the sculpted curves of his abs, scooping up the viscous, pearly liquid and sliding it into his mouth. “Mmm…” A long tongue swirled around his fingers, licking up every drop with lazy, slow pleasure.

“You're disgusting, San.” Yeosang puckered his lips in disgust, looking around at the brunette sprawled on the bed. He turned sharply on his heels and strode away from the room;  to he pick up Yoru on his way, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his arms. “Get up; we have to go. Hongjoon is calling us.”

“You're not leaving the cat?”

The brunette turned around over his shoulder, meeting his gaze with San's silver eyes.

“June misses his darling; for our little girl, it's time to come home.”

San propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the departing Yeosang. His lips stretched in a satisfied smile full of devilish anticipation.

The time had finally come.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

1st POV

"Feed me to the wolves, let them take my flesh."

“Well, I'm glad to finally meet you in a more relaxed setting, Miss Ahn. Please take a seat.” With an elegant gesture, the man motioned me to a deep leather chair in front of his desk. On the glass tabletop was a silver plaque engraved with the name “Mr. Lee Taeho”.

“Miss An” - how sad and tragic that sounds. I never wanted to try out this role. I didn't like being addressed like that, because it was always Mina, and before her, it was my grandmother, and probably my mother was addressed like that when she was alive.

But here I am, the new Miss Ahn, and unlike my predecessors, I have not sought to carry the weight of this unbearable crown. I don't need the congratulatory ribbons and the wet glitter sequins smeared across my face.

Although there was nothing in the address itself that I could call unpleasant, the tone with which it was always delivered foreshadowed the inevitable tragic ending of its own and tasted of earth and chrysanthemums.

You're bound to end up as one of them; it's not all by chance, Sarang.   Don't kid yourself.

I saw the future as a series of predetermined events, especially after Mina's death. She had the arrogance to dispose of my life as she saw fit, putting chains of obligations and secrets around my neck. I buried her in the ground, and my days became nothing more than a list of dull plans, paltry hopes, and bitter regrets, as murky as the water in the city canals through which a coffin floats. Still, I couldn't help but wonder who would be the next Miss An when I died, or would I be the one to hold that title forever?

There are never any former queens. There are only dead ones.

I could feel the blood flowing faster through my veins.

For a few moments, there was silence around us, thick and enveloping like fog. If I'd felt any hint of confidence as I walked through the tall glass doors of Silver & Black LTD, now, alone with this man, I was floundering in my social insecurity like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. I resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze of his night-dark eyes. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Lee Taeho wasn't just one of Silver & Black's most successful lawyers; he was also a devilishly handsome man.

He was built like a god. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a tight-fitting white shirt that accentuated his muscular biceps, bulging pecs, and flat stomach. The image of strength and power was completed by the perfectly tailored, tight-fitting trousers. The rolled-up sleeves revealed several tattoos on his wiry forearms—something in Latin that I couldn't make out.

His face was also striking, with angular, pointed features that would have looked strange and out of place on anyone else, but the luscious, perfectly sculpted lips made them something unimaginable and outrageously beautiful.

I felt uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. He was looking at me like I was something special, but not in a sexual or romantic way; rather, it was the look of an explorer who had found an unexpected treasure in a pile of rubbish.

“I honestly didn't expect you to have any free time in the next few months, so thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

To be honest, I knew absolutely nothing about Silver & Black until Soomin told me about them on the way here. Soo turned out to be absolutely right when she told me about them. This place was the epitome of the arrogant domination of money and power—cold, glassy, and sterile, like a morgue where the remains of all “happy stories” are taken.

I could never belong to such a place, but I could easily imagine Mina here, with her developing blood curls and the unemotional grandeur of royalty. People like my sister were part of that 'proper' society so suited to closed Sunday clubs and icy glass offices. Like all of her kind, Mina was a great predator, used to labeling people and giving them her own names and definitions. She knew exactly how to make those around her feel uncomfortable with just one look.

Some people have everything, others nothing. It's as cruel and true as the inequality of love.

I still didn't understand how Mina had so much money to afford the services of this company, but judging by how polite and “sweetly” the receptionist greeted me at the entrance, she was very much appreciated here.

Blood of my blood.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Saran.” He said that, and I looked back at him in surprise. It wasn't so much the fact that he allowed himself a familiarity that surprised me, but the way he said my name—as if it had always belonged to his lips. It was as if he'd said it over and over again until the intonation was perfect.

My heart beats fast in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was fear or something else entirely.

“We will always make time for you. If you'll allow me to be frank, I've left a few free hours each day, just in case you decide to call me. Honestly, I expected it to take a little less time on your part, but who am I to judge you, Sarang?”

“But why?” I tried to gather information and put it together in a way that wasn't absurd. I didn't want to assume anything.

“Why? Do I have to explain? Maybe I just wanted to see you; you're a beautiful girl, and I'm a great admirer of the beautiful. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the embarrassment that must have been written on my face. I could feel the heat spilling over my cheeks, turning them a painfully inflamed shade of red.

I had never been a girl with a 'cute' blush. I was more like a girl burned by the gold of the sun, pressing her cheek directly against the boiling, bubbling surface of the sun.

Taeho lightly drummed his perfectly filed nails on the glass tabletop, completely ignoring my obvious embarrassment at the situation, and continued:

“But let's say that this is due to the fact that your dear sister was a valued client of ours, whom everyone here at Silver & Black LTD sincerely appreciated. Miss Ahn was our special customer. All the staff will agree with me; your sister is impossible not to love.”

“A special client?” I interjected. Somehow, that didn't surprise me at all. Of course, it was only natural that Mina was always at the center of the universe. People followed the sound of her voice like rats behind the magical melody of the flute.

“Are you surprised, Sarang? Your sister has helped our firm in many ways, bringing us new clients and introducing us to the 'right' people, making our firm one of the best in Korea. She's contributed a lot to the development of Silver & Black. There was a strange note in his voice, as if between the cracks there was something terrible—a terrible secret that could change my whole life.

For some reason, I don't feel comfortable at all right now.

“I'm pleased… hmm, or rather, I'm pleased to know that my sister has done so much for you. Lately, she and I haven't really been close, and we've barely chatted. So I didn't know where she went or what kind of people she hung out with.” My words come out a little sour, and I press my lips together.

The lovely Mina, as always, is proving to be the best. I wonder if the day will come when she damn pedestal will be nothing but a pile of ruins at my feet. I thought all this time you'd been pining for roses, but instead you've been doing the right thing. What else don't I know about you, Ahn Min?

What don't I want to know about you?

''Yes, yes, she helped us a lot. Now let's get on with signing the documents, do you mind? I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary.” His words were very dry, businesslike, and in no way in keeping with the previous flirtation. Something flashed in his eyes—concern, doubt, maybe even fear—there was a tense tremor in his hands, and his whole aura changed, as if something huge and evil had turned its attention to him.

“Sure, let's get started.”

The entire process took no more than 30 minutes. I signed document after document, with occasional detached comments from Mr. Lee, which were completely at odds with his previous behavior. There was nothing special about the documents, except for one thing: Rose Hill. As best, I could make out from the extensive stack of papers, it was a small house in the style of Victorian England. It was in the ownership of a gated cottage community, the grounds of which were owned by a private company. It was all too complex and confusing to realize the meaning in the space of 30 minutes. I'll deal with it later, most likely in the company of Soomin and a couple of bottles of wine.

“Can I sell the house I inherited, Rose Hill?” I asked without lifting my head from the papers; a few more strokes and I could be out of here. The atmosphere in the office was terribly tense; my skin itched unpleasantly and tingled in places as if it no longer belonged to me.

“To my regret, I cannot help you in this matter. In all matters concerning Rose Hill, you must deal directly with the owners of the land; I will email you their contacts.” The smile he gave me was forced, and I couldn't help but wonder what had made such a difference in his change of mood.

“Okay, thank you.” I signed the last form and handed the pile of paperwork to Mr. Lee. “I'm done; hopefully everything is settled now. Can I get a copy of the documents, preferably today?”

Taeho cursorily flicked through the pages to make sure each one was signed.

 “Our administrator, Sunwoo, will give you all the documents. There is one more thing you need to get before you leave. When you leave here, go further down the corridor to the vault, and Bora will show you a locker in the storage room that belongs to your sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, my next customer is waiting, and I don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Lee.” I clumsily rose from my chair, trying to get out of this stuffy room as quickly as possible. The air felt pressurized, and I felt like I was going to start suffocating a little more. I needed to get out of here right now.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Miss Ahn. Please take care of yourself.” The look he gave me was sad—so unusually sad, like the look of a man living his last day on earth. It was as if the end had come for him before he could realize it.

His words, on the contrary, were a warning. “Take care of yourself.” What kind of lawyer wishes that to a client as a farewell? Was I in danger? Perhaps you were. Although that's true, it's worth crossing out the word “perhaps”, yes, I was in danger. Could he have known about it? Did Taeho know about the roses or the people who sent those awful flowers? Was there something he hadn't told me? A thousand questions were in my head as I walked out of his office.

Mechanically, I reach for the strands of pearls at my neck and twist them around my fingers, nervousness bubbling in my stomach. This isn't some worldwide conspiracy, Sarang. Wake up.

I think I'm becoming paranoid.

The door closes softly behind me. I'm alone in a sterile, shiny corridor.

In the distance, I hear a cheerful laugh—Soomin. She was definitely laughing. Soo is having a great time waiting for me to wrap things up. Even though she was denied my escort to Mr. Lee's office, she wasn't upset at all because the nice receptionist, Sunwoo, I think his name was, was determined not to let her get bored alone.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was charming and cute, with a sweet, heart-shaped smile that would make your teeth rot. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, Armani Prive, in a thinly stitched pinstripe. I'd say he looked like a puppy. With those big, wet, shiny eyes and the way he struck the right pose when you told him to.

Yes, that was the kind of guy I fell in love with—the kind with a good reputation and a well-paid job—the kind who makes love, not fucks. They're the ones who make sure he looks you in the eye and whispers to you about how good you're feeling when he's caressing your body.

Good boys. Obedient boys. Sugar-coated like candy.

If I fell in love with a guy like that, Soomin would break him up like a Christmas candy bar and take a bite right down the middle of him. She liked that type—kind, gentle, and submissive. There had never been a lack of male attention in her life, but for some reason, Soo had always surrounded herself with this type of boy, like colorful toys. She wasn't afraid to break them because she could always move on to the next one. They never crossed her, nodding in obedience and jumping as high as she asked. Men were no more precious to Soo than broken crystal balls, shimmering but useless.

The corridor in front of me was long and empty, with a single door at the end. The sound of heels hitting marble tiles echoed in my head, and the checkerboard pattern on the marble was jarring. For a moment, I thought the corridor was narrowing like a rabbit hole, endless and dark. I was short of air, unable to breathe, and the oxygen in my lungs was as thick and viscous as swamp sludge. I clawed at my neck with my fingernails, trying to pull off the pearl collar, but I felt myself tightening it stronger. My eyes stung from tears and mascara, and ink streaks ran down my cheeks, and somehow they felt colder than they should have.

My fingernails dug into the skin on my collarbones, scratching at it with cruelty and anger.

I needed to get away from myself. To be separate from my body and the way I felt. The nightmare awakened inside me, licking my veins, working its way inside, and gnawing into my soul. My consciousness was beyond my mind.

I hear the sound of tearing threads and thousands of pearls falling at my feet, and I fall with them. I want to go back to before it all began. Before the pain, Before the roses.

Fluorescent lights flash like the tails of nameless comets on the pearly roundness of the beads. I see stars exploding behind my eyes, painting the underside of my eyelids with intricate strokes—the constellation Gemini. Nergal. I want to remember the days when roses were just roses, not home to the ghosts of my soul.

I hear a sound—it's pearls crunching under sharp heels. Under steel heels, like the teeth of the Witch Queen. 

“Oh my God, Saran!” Someone shouts. Soomin isn't laughing anymore.

Her hands are so cold against my clammy skin. She presses my face against her chest, and the feverish beating of her heart brings me back to reality. She is my white rabbit.

Voices, voices—there are so many of them. It's a cacophony of sounds and unpleasant cracking noises. The pearls keep breaking, and I keep crying.

Someone brings me a glass of unpleasantly cold water; it runs down my throat like a liquid flame.

I finally took a breath.

“Take me home.” That's all I can say right now. I want to go home, away from the world, away from the sun, and away from the memories.

“She's having a panic attack; she needs air.”

“No! I need to go home.”

“It's OK, sweetheart. I've got you,” Soo purrs, kissing the top of my head like a little baby. She pulls me off the floor with effort, lifting me to my feet.

I look down at the checkered pattern of the marble slabs and at the scattered pearls. In some places, the white slabs are smeared with red, like lipstick smeared by a kiss. This is blood. My blood.

My legs shake like a newborn fawn as Soomin leads me away from this place. Every step was painful, almost more painful than Soo's tight grip on my forearm.   “It's okay, Sarang, we're going home.”

It's okay, Sarang.

It's okay.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“Are you sure you're feeling better?”

“Yeah, I'm fine now.” I squeezed out the shadow of a smile. Apparently it was useless; the look in her eyes remained the same: worried, with fear lurking around the edges. Fear for me.

“How long have you been having these attacks?”

“This is the first time. I guess… I don't know. Let's just say it's a consequence of trauma. I don't want to talk about it.”

“I'm so sorry.” Soo crouched on the edge of the bed, taking my hand gently. I was made of glass; she didn't want to break me or do the opposite by hurting herself on me. “It's so horrible that you have to go through all this, baby.”

“Yes, it is.” What else could I say? I could not have said a word, and everything would have been understood. The wounds under the bandage itched terribly. Long red marks stretched along my collarbones and neck. Mascara was still smeared across my face, as was the soft pink lip gloss. I looked like a mess. I was a mess.

My throat was all dry and thirsty, and my eyes were so swollen I couldn't even open them fully.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight, love? We can watch a film or something; maybe one of those stupid comedy shows Mina hated. I'll make dinner and open the wine.”

“No need; I'll be fine. Soomin, go home; you should be resting too, not babysitting me. I'm fine, really. I'm feeling better, and I'll definitely get through the night. I'll probably go straight to sleep as soon as you leave.” Much as I loved Soo, I didn't feel like seeing anyone right now.

“If you say so, Please call me in the morning as soon as you wake up, okay?”

“Of course. Be safe, Soo. Love you.” I thought I covered my eyes for only a second before I heard the click of the front door. The mark of her kiss burned on my cheek.

I don't know how many hours I sat like that—completely still, not taking my eyes off the dark landscape outside the window, which was getting brighter now that a little moonlight was seeping through the thick clouds.

I didn't want to get out of bed, drowning in pillows and blankets like a pipe dream. I felt good in my bed. I couldn't understand what exactly had changed, but I could feel the change. Even in the morning, the bed had been cold and lonely, but now the silk under my fingers was warmer and softer to the touch. Even the smell of the blankets seemed to be different, like purple lilies and musk, a scent that remotely reminded me of something very familiar but long forgotten. Could it have been Soo's perfume? No, more like the scent that Yoru always brought with her.

By the way, where did she go? She was here when I left this morning, but knowing her talent for disappearing and reappearing at will, I didn't hold out much hope of seeing her today. It would be nice to have her around now, though.

I rolled onto my side, resting my cheek against the pillow. I didn't want to sleep, but I didn't want to get out of bed either. My gaze settled on the small box that lay on the chair across from the bed. A casket from a storage locker.

After my panic attack, Soomin took it away, since I was apparently incapable of doing so. Next to it was a neat stack of papers with black paint poisonously embedded in them, listing all the possessions I now owned, including Rose Hill, but the most valuable and important thing was kept in this little silver coffin.

The metal walls of the casket shimmered like liquid silver when moonlight hit them. I was mesmerized by this otherworldly glow. Number 0711 - Miss Ahn Mina. Sometimes a lifetime can be folded like origami and placed on a velvet cushion like a collector's item.

I struggled with myself for a few more minutes before I threw back the blankets and got out of bed. My curiosity outweighed my fear. At that moment, I had to remind myself that “curiosity killed the cat,” and if I had been any smarter, I would have thrown the box to hell and never thought of it again.

The box opened silently, and I felt a chill, as if someone had dipped my heart in ice water. There weren't many things in the box—something old, something new, and something blue—all like a wedding tradition. It wasn't like Mina. She had always despised the idea of marriage; the very thought of anyone daring to claim her freedom made her sick.

It wasn't for her, and it wasn't for me.

Weddings are gorgeous, creamy bouquets of fragrant flowers that breathe in the dawn. At the end of a long journey down a narrow church aisle, a handsome prince awaits with the promise of eternal love. As if. Girls, guard your hearts, for they will eat them for breakfast. Piece by piece, like a birthday cake, until there's nothing left to keep you alive.

Then there'll be another, just as naive. And then another, and so on, endlessly. That's all love is. A streak of devil's rubies and eaten hearts.

There was no heart and no love in that box. Just one little piece of paper with torn edges and a handful of precious trinkets. Just one small puzzle piece that had fallen out of a huge and complex picture. I could recognize Mina's handwriting from a million others, but the words written on that little piece of paper were not hers. In each letter lurked something that had never belonged to Mina; her hand had scrawled those lines, but her lips had never uttered those words.

“My only love. My divine Rose, when I leave this world, I will leave you everything you could ever want. When you read this, I will be gone. Everything has been arranged; everything is ready for you. The whole world will belong to you, my love. I took care of it. On the back of this page, I have left the number of my good friend. Please give him a call; he will help you with all the things you need. He'll be waiting for you. He is the only one you can trust, Sarang. Your beloved Mina P.S. Don't forget, love is eternal.”

I flipped the sheet to the other side. The handwriting was the same but so different; the letters were sharp and crumpled, as if they were written in a hurry.

Hongjoong. I had heard that name before. I knew the taste of it on my tongue.

My fingers hurriedly dialed the number; I didn't look at the time, and, to be honest, I didn't care. I wanted to make sure that he was real and that this wasn't another one of her crazy fantasies that would lead me down a blind alley. I needed to know that Hongjoong wasn't fiction but blood and flesh, intermittent breathing, and an unevenly beating pulse.

At the other end of the phone, the long beeps were interrupted, there was a static pause for a second, and then I heard the sleepy and so welcome sound:

“Hello.”

[fyodior]

june 19th

✦ pairing: dazai x gn!reader

✦ notes: my 4th installment of blurbs for my boy's birthdays (bbb). i love him so much it hurts. let's all pretend this isn't 2 days late <3

✦ warnings: surprisingly sfw, talks of death/suicide (it's dazai), minor angst but painfully sweet at the end

✦ wc: 1k

Birthdays were hard for Dazai. The congratulations, the gifts, the cake, the smiles, only reminded him of one thing – he survived another year. A concept that was still difficult for him to grasp. It was admittedly getting easier, slowly finding things worth living for, but still hard. When he spent so much of his life, so many of his formative years, hoping for nothing but death, it’s hard for that not to be in the back of his mind.

When birthdays felt like a failure. When the number ticking up made Dazai feel like a coward. A further reminder that he hadn’t built up the guts, that he was still naïve enough to think there was something worth living for, and he just hadn’t found it yet. A spineless fool who could never practice what he preached.

The only thing that made him crack a smile when he was strongarmed into blowing out the candles of the cake that Elise demanded, was how antithetical it was to wish for death at a celebration of his birth. A paradox of his own creation.

Dazai could never really understand why anyone wanted to celebrate his birth. He couldn’t think of a single person who, for a reason outside of personal gain, would be sad if he died. Sure, Mori and much of the Port Mafia would mourn the loss of one of their most cunning executives, Odasaku would miss having a drinking buddy, and Chuuya would miss having someone to antagonize, but no one would miss him. No one would miss Osamu Dazai as an individual and a soul, for all that he is and is not.

So why was it worth celebrating his life – the opposite of his death?

You were the first person Dazai ever met who actually cherished him for who he was, and not what he could provide. His life meant something, meant everything to you, and was more than worthy of celebration.

The first to look him in the eyes and tell him you would be sad if he died.

“You are so much more than a Port Mafia executive, or a Detective Agency detective – you’re so much more than No Longer Human, and even more than my partner,” you whispered to him one night. “You, are Osamu Dazai. A soul unlike any other, and a soul just as worthy of existing and being loved.”

Of course, he never really quite believed you – and you didn’t much expect him to, either. Not with how this life had treated him. He spent his whole life being told his worth extended only as far as what he could do, never who he could be.

Even when you spent hours gently unwrapping every single bandage that adorned his fragile skin, and kissed every single scar that marred his body, Dazai still didn’t quite comprehend. Not even when you helped him wrap fresh ones, each sealed with a kiss, assuring him that he didn’t have to hide but you would always support his comfort. But that was okay. You didn’t love just to receive love. You loved because he was worth it.

So when his birthday came around, the first of which the two of you would be spending together, you were very intentional with plans. You wanted to make him feel loved and cherished and worthy, but not push him past his limit – or make it feel artificial. It couldn’t feel like it was just going through the motions and playing out the stereotypes of a birthday. It needed to be suited to Dazai, so that he could see that it was on purpose.  

Just a typical weekday, you turned off his alarm and woke him with a gentle kiss, whispering a sweet “happy birthday, my love” against his lips. Not even Dazai could fight the way his lips curled into a smile. You washed his hair in the shower and rewrapped his bandages for him, and he even let you apply a few swipes of mascara on his fluttery eyelashes, telling him it was so he could look extra pretty for his special day.

Sending him off to work with a perfectly crafted latte and a flurry of I love you’s, you sat down on the balcony with a paper and pen to write his birthday letter – his only gift, aside from the exorbitantly priced bottle of sake you bought to pair with dinner.

Dear Osamu, it began.

I am a lovesick fool. Your heart has corrupted me in the most irreversible way possible, and your soul has eternally entangled itself with mine. You blind me with your kindness, your passion, and your devotion. I have more love for you than there are stars in the sky, and you are worthy of every atom.

It is only when the ink of your pen starts to run dry that, three pages later, you decide to conclude the letter.

Happy birthday, my one true love. You matter. The letters were lacking in opacity but enriched with love.

And when Dazai finally arrived home, telling stories that likely were not supposed to grace the ears of non-Agency employees, you surprised him with a simple, yet very deliberate dinner. Crab and sake – just what he liked. The laughs got louder as glasses were poured, and tears collected at the corners of his eyes as he read through your letter. You matter, he mouthed silently as he read the line.

And for the first time in his entire life, an inkling of a sliver of a thought entered his mind, that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

[ibelieveinvillainsupremacy]

Oooooh!! I have an idea! How about a pitch black x reader where (Y/N) is totally Gen Z, so nothing really scares them and it drives Pitch INSANE.

Reader is so desensitized that anything Pitch tries to pull they just brush it off or think it’s funny!

Omg first request on my AU <33

Of course! Sounds so cool ^^

(After a lot of time i start writing again qwq)

Before starting, here's a little context on this AU:

I was inspired by @seaslugfanclub Disney Villains/ y/n park assistant concept, I thought something.

What if there was another company (generic name supposedly) that to go against this incredible idea of the Disney Parks to make the Villains turn into actual people decided to do the same thing with non- Disney Villains as well?

And this other y/n had to take care of them, because they are also very chaotic without a lead of some kind...

my most recent post includes way more villains i got obsessed with, so check out the list if you want to request me some asks!

Now, let's go <33

The Disney Parks had made such a smart move on making their bad guys come to life, so their most brilliant rival decided to do same thing.

But how to make their choice not sound like a copy of their rivals?

Easy.

Let's include multiple animated universes and let them come to life together!

Unfortunately for Y/N, the park attendant that has to reunite them all together and "take care" of their actions,

(no kids or human was harmed in this, writer of this confirms! at least not yet),

that wasn't an easy job. Not at all.

Don't get this wrong, the newest addition to the park really enjoyed villains of all kind (and despite not being accepted by the other park) she gladly wanted to work at this new one. Yeah, wanted.

Because the poor human didn't know tha chaos that was about to happen.

One of the villains that was a pain in the ass to tolerate was the lord of nightmares himself.

Now, normally one would be a little bit, at least for a moment, scared of what that man had in mind.

Well, let's just say that Y/N was one of those incredible (and so incredibly frustrating) humans that wasn't scared of the tricks and literal creatures Pitch could materialize out of nowhere.

Spiders? No, the park assistant wouldn't even look at them.

Clowns? You'll get a laugh and a few looks that seem to say "Not today, big guy"

Anything that the obscure could think about would never work.

"After months in your company, I'm still not sure on the reason why you are even able of seeing me, without any profound and maniacal fear in that head of yours."

Oh. That day you were literally head in the clouds, well not fully. You were trying to separate Rasputin and Rothbart (those bickering old-) that were for the thousand time arguing on who was the most powerful, had the coolest song, which one was almost going to be part of Disney (let's just think that he didn't succeed). And who had to help that mess? Guess.

So now you had another problem to fix. A big one.

You knew that he was a little disappointed from that look on his ashen face, so you had to fix that.

"Well, I actually am afraid of things, Pitch, but if I actually start panicking at any nightmare creation of yours, this park would be absolutely turned to dust. And I don't know where you'll go without me, and my frustrating emotionless face."

The villain then gave a small nod in your direction.

"Can you at least be scared next time? Just a little bit?"

"Would that make you happy?"

"I think so."

"Then alright big guy. I'll show you my terrified face, promise."

"I can't wait to see it."

[marvelmusing]

A Courtship of Shadows

Pairing: Fae King!Aleksander x Fem!Reader

Summary: After centuries of seclusion, Aleksander is ready to form an alliance with the humans of West Ravka. The human king will be easy enough to manipulate, though his royal advisor appears to be more than Aleksander anticipated.

Word Count: 1.6K

My Masterlist

“She is infuriating.”

Ivan watches his king pace back and forth beside the fireplace in the royal study, firelight dancing over his features as his brows draw together. As the king’s most trusted advisor, Ivan knows to remain quiet as his ruler vents his frustrations. Especially since he knows exactly who has him so riled up.

For centuries, East Ravka has been a safe haven for the Fae-folk, protected by the wall of shadow that shielded them from the rest of the world. Humans from Fjerda, Shu Han, and West Ravka often ventured into the darkness, only to be driven out by the volcra – fierce creatures that would only answer to their master.

Just over a year ago, the Fae king had decided it was time to witness for himself how humanity had changed, parting the Fold and creating a small path for his travelling party to journey into West Ravka safely.

When the volcra and the shadow barrier had been created, Fae were hunted for their gifts, held captive to be tortured, killed, or enslaved. The Fae king had wanted to see if they had changed.

The Fae kingdom was thriving with freedoms never allowed before, but there is always opportunity for improvement. If there is one thing the Fae king cares about above all else, it is the people he has ruled over ever since the creation of the Shadow Fold.

Ivan finds the human king rather unremarkable, and he’s certain his king feels the same. The humans don’t suffer for it, but the man lacks any sort of drive or ambition. After one conversation with him, Ivan had thought his king would abandon his thoughts of an alliance with the humans.

Then he had met you.

A royal advisor that possesses everything the king lacks. Even Ivan will admit that you are intelligent and quick witted, you clearly care for your people, and you had never looked down upon the Fae. Though it is evident you don’t trust them. Fedoyr, ever the optimist, had argued that you didn’t seem to trust anyone.

Ivan knows that his king isn’t above manipulation to get what he wants. From what they have seen of your influence at Court, to have you in his debt would be to own the human king himself. Though it appears you are not as easy to trap as the Fae king had initially hoped.     

“She doesn’t accept gifts until she knows they are given freely.”

He runs a hand through his hair before he stops at the small table beside his armchair. There’s the clink of glass as he removes the stopper on the decanter of wine, then the dark liquid flows into a short crystal glass.

“She won’t eat or drink anything I offer.”

The king swallows down a mouthful of liquid, nose wrinkling at the strength. He looks down into the glass, sighing as he sits down.

“Almost every human I’ve ever met responds with thanks after a compliment, but of course she doesn’t.” He scoffs lightly, taking another drink.

For a moment, Ivan thinks he hears amusement in his king’s voice, though he pushes that thought away quickly.

“She never accepts my invitation to dance. Even at a human function, where the music holds no power over her.”

The king runs a hand over his face, smoothing across his neatly trimmed facial hair.

“She never lies to me, though I can hear the way her truths bend into clever little remarks to distract me.”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly as he stares down at the rug beneath his feet.

“She gives me a new name to call her by every time we meet, with this teasing smile, as if this is all just a game to her.” That prompts Ivan into speaking up,

“You think she suspects something of you?”

“Perhaps,” the king muses distantly.

Then he appears to realise that Ivan is still standing by the desk where they had been discussing plans for a trade route, until the topic of conversation had somehow shifted to the king’s opinion of you. He nods towards his advisor, saying quietly,

“I think that will be all for tonight, Ivan.”

»»---------------------►

Aleksander is so very tired. Being away from the Fae kingdom always drains him but the company, particularly at these balls, has him longing to lie alone in a field until the sky grows dark and the stars reveal themselves.

He stifles a yawn, briefly wondering when the last time was that he had a relaxed morning where he could remain in bed until whenever he wished to rise.

A group of young men and women flock around him, unable to resist the allure of the unknown and fantastical. He captivates them all easily enough, securing an almost unending chorus of ‘thank you, your highness’ in a coy response to his charms.

Humans really should teach their children about the dangers of the Fae. He isn’t intending on invoking any of these young nobles into his service, but he could, with the power they all hand to him unknowingly.

Politely, he excuses himself from them and makes his way around the room, noticing that the Kaelish ambassador had finally found another poor soul to listen to his ramblings, meaning that you are alone.

He appears beside you, stepping closer as he reaches behind you to pick up a goblet of wine. You bow lightly, inclining your head as you greet him. His own words are spoken into the crook of your neck.

“What name have you selected to offer me tonight, my lady?”

Momentarily, your eyes meet.

“You may call me Blossom.”

“Feeling inspired by the turning of the season?”

A small smile flickers at the corner of your lips.

“Spring has always been one of my favourite times of the year.”

As you watch people gathering to the centre of the ballroom, glittering dresses twirling as princesses and noble ladies are swept up by doting suitors, you don’t notice his gaze as he admires you.

“Might I say you look rather lovely this evening.”

“That’s kind of you to say, your highness.”

Whilst your knowledge of Fae-folk might be vexing at times, and detrimental towards his plan for the human throne, Aleksander finds it refreshing. His smirk widens as you turn to meet his gaze, no doubt curious as to why he hasn’t provided a response like usual.

As his lips part to give you a retort, there’s the sound of a small commotion at the side of the ballroom. The two of you watch as people gather around to get a glimpse of whatever has happened.

When Aleksander sees you roll your eyes lightly he frowns, and you duck your head down, tilting it towards his to inform him.

“It appears a lady has swooned rather tactically into Prince Rudolph’s arms.”

The corner of his mouth twitches in distaste. This isn’t the first swoon Aleksander has observed in the human court though he is no more impressed than the first time. The Fae Court, for all its rules and laws, is infamously brutal. A display of weakness, and dishonesty, such as swooning would gain a lady nothing but indifference.

“If someone were to swoon in my court there would be very few that would consider them a suitable partner.”

“That’s my sister.”

Aleksander’s eyes widen as they bounce between you and the woman currently being fanned down by the Prince.

“I meant no offense. I-”

The soft sound of your laughter stops him from fumbling through any more of his apology. As you look over towards your sister, your smile fades.

“Mother will be pleased. At least one of us turned out how she wanted.”

Aleksander has never known you to mention your family before. Of course, he knows of each and every member and their position in the human court. That your father was a viscount before a riding accident left your mother a widow when you and your sister were young. He knows you have a cousin that will inherit your father’s title when he comes of age.

“She thinks I was a changeling child.”

He tilts his head towards you at your admission. The idea of changelings is rather outdated, something humans of the past had used to scaremonger their peers, because the Fae were considered evil creatures that would kidnap society’s most vulnerable and innocent.

“We don’t actually do that.”

The corner of your mouth twists as you remark teasingly,

“What? Steal children?”

He nods with a tiny smile as he observes the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes. Had you hoped to be a changeling? Did you want to be like him? Aleksander has a feeling that you would thrive in the Fae kingdom.

“It’s just a fable,” he says softly.

Looking down, you nod in resignation.

“I thought so.” Then amusement sparkles in your eyes as you look back up at him. “After all, there’s only one person who can cross the Fold safely, and I can’t imagine you smuggling armfuls of babies in your leisure time.”  

Aleksander laughs. The sound turns a few heads and you look rather bashful at the realisation that you had made the fearsome Fae king - the infamous Darkling - laugh.

“I actually use a cart pulled by volcra.”

As the jest leaves his lips, you gape at him with amusement and surprised delight dancing in your eyes. Then you bite down on your lip momentarily, before succumbing to your own bout of laughter. Aleksander loves hearing you laugh. When your laughter fades and the two of you go quiet he decides to add,

“Kaminsky’s parents were human.” When you frown he elaborates, “My second in command, his parents were both mortal humans. His brothers were human too.”

He can see you holding your breath as you look at him, eyes wide with longing and hope and fear. Your voice wavers as you whisper,

“What are you trying to say to me?”

“That you do not have to be born of the Fae to be one of us.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

»»---------------------►

[bump1nthen1ght]

Do the Crime, Pay the Time (M!Reader x M!Undead Knight)

Pairing: Male!Artist!Reader x Male!Undead Knight

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Misunderstandings

Warnings: Extremely Dubious Consent, No preparation

Word Count: 2254 words

Summary: All you had wanted was to paint, to decorate these abandoned ruins with your art. But it seems your presence is unwanted at these ‘abandoned’ ruins.

Request: i have an idea for a request,,

how bout an Undead Male Knight x Male Graffiti Artist

The Graffiti artist would wander into some ruins away from the city to paint a mural, unknowing of its origins and get caught by the Undead Knight…

Maybe some punishment for trespassing on the ruined kingdoms property,,? 🥹

You should have known this place was too good to be true.

You had stumbled upon it wandering one day, shocked that the crumbling ruins weren't kept behind a “KEEP OUT - PRIVATE PROPERTY” sign. That wouldn’t have stopped you, of course, but the fact the large complex was seemingly abandoned made it all the more interesting.

Most of the ceiling had caved in, remnants of flying buttress and great arches overgrown with moss and water damage. Some remains of stained glass lay shattered on the ground, brushed into the corners by the wind or wandering animals.

But what takes your attention is the surprisingly intact wall, clean of debris and dust. It’s perfect for a mural, and on first site the painting is already forming in your head.

You head home to pack up supplies and pray it stays unsigned by the next day. Your arms shake from all your equipment - a ladder, cans, some brushes and paints - and you mentally cheer once you see the clear wall left intact.

The high of uninhibited artistic creation must dull your senses, because you do not hear the crunching of rusted armor or the dragging of long-slept limbs. No, it’s not until you’re being choke slammed into your easel that you realize this place was very much inhabited.

“Speak your name, intruder.” 

Your attacker’s voice is low, tense and full of authority. Your nails scramble at the armored hand holding you up, trying to pry them off your throat.

I need to breathe to speak, you psycho!

You try to scream with your eyes, feeling your vision go spotty.

All you can see of your assailant is a glowing green eye, trembling like an open flame out from their dark helm. The light from it hints at something underneath, bleach white like bone, but it must be from the lack of oxygen to your brain. Surely he isn’t-

The man loosens his hold on your jugular, blood rushing back in as you suck in a deep breath. You slowly regain your faculties, and your eyes begin to adjust in the low light of the morning.

“I didn’t realize-”

The arm pushes you further against the wall, raising you so your legs dangle like a ragdoll.

“I asked for your name, not an excuse.”

The voice says, no less angry than before. A filtered beam of sunlight comes through one of the stained glass windows, and you see another glimpse of his face. 

Your brain hasn't deceived you. It was bone, a stripped clean skull right underneath a fiery green eye. But it was only one half, the other side being that of a shockingly handsome knight, sharp cheekbones and a smatter of freckles. His more human eyes are the same acid-green as the other, but doesn’t burn or glow the same way.

“___! My name is ____!” You gasp, hands still desperately trying to rip away his fingers.

The knight hums, eyes rolling down your form. It’s just some painter's overalls and a t-shirt, surely different from the thieves and nobles he is more familiar with.

“Why do you trespass on this place that is not your own?” He commands, holding you up with minimal effort. The bulk underneath his armor must not be just for show, especially with the large greatsword he wields on his back.

“I didn’t know someone was here! I just wanted-” You choke, feeling the palm of his armor digging into your jaw. You tap it furiously, and the knight must deem you harmless enough to set you down on the ground without a fight.

You drop to your butt, hands clutching what is surely your bruised throat. 

“I just wanted to paint.” You urge, trying your best to seem innocent and non-threatening. This dude seems to have a hair-trigger temper.

The human eye appraises you again, the knight humming with burgeoning thoughts.

“I see.” The bared teeth of his skull clink together as his mouth grits, brow half-furrowing as he thinks on what to do with you. You eye that massive sword, brain going for the worst.

“Listen, I can go right now. I won’t tell anyone about this place, and once again I am so sorry-”

A palm is in your face, the other creasing the growing knot in the knight's brow. He seems less angry now, more frustrated. The bared teeth clink together.

He keeps his thoughts to himself as he stews, seemingly having a mini argument in his head.

“I see you are not a thief, nor do you seem to have…” Both eyes roll down your outfit again, taking stock in your lack of weapons or tools, “...nefarious intentions. But nonetheless you have disturbed this holy place, and for that my cursed commands I punish you.”

You grab your throat, instincts somehow believing your hand could stop that sword from separating your head from the rest of your body. 

But the knight just sighs, arms not going for his great sheath, and instead kneels before you.

The gauntlet is cold against your flushed cheek, the knight's hand nearly the size of your face as he tilts your jaw to him. His face has fallen back to flat, contemplative and in control.

The human iris feels hot as it looks down the column of your neck, eyes your heaving chest, still full with nervous breaths. You think you see it sweeping lower, lower, before darting back. 

“I suppose I can provide punishment in an alternative way to the convention.” The knight grips your jaw, yanking you forward.

His glowing eye is hard to look away from. You feel like a moth, drawn in by the flickering emerald spits in his eye. Your heart thuds in your ears, wondering if you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime

And then the bastard kisses you.

Well, half-kisses you. The lips he has are soft and plump, conveying a lot of experience with one smooth motion. The bone is a little more jarring, jagged teeth crashing against yours, yet making the same movements as the lips. 

All in all though, not the worst kiss you’ve ever had.

The knight pulls away, no breath being lost on his end as a string of saliva connects your wet lips. Both eyes burn with something familiar,and he flicks a tongue across his half-lip.

“Yes, I think this will do perfectly.”

Before you can clarify, the knight meets you in another steaming kiss. It's quicker than the last, lips traveling down your neck and sucking hickies into the flesh. The knight seems particularly enraptured by your pulse, lingering and nipping at the pumping blood.

Ok, I guess this is happening.

You don’t really have a place to complain, as it seems your options are this or grave bodily harm. But even so, the flight-or-fight, survival monkey part of your brain tries to see the bright side. The bright side being that this guy isn’t too bad looking, and seems to be a very affectionate lover.

“U-uh mister knight-” You stutter out, brain beginning to bounce back from the shock of the last five minutes, “-what may I call you?”

“Sir Arthur.”

“Okay, Sir Arthur.” Your voice becomes breathily as Sir Arthur’s hands drift down your coveralls, deftly undoing your straps and yanking your pants loose around the waist. A metal hand caresses under your leg, groping the bottom of your thigh before reaching the fat of your ass, where it pushes and kneads like it was bread dough. Your body's instinctive reaction is to lurch forward, unintentionally grinding your crotch against his. There's muffled growls against your skin, and those gauntlets are back to yanking off your pants and underwear.

The castle floors send goosebumps down your bare legs, Arthur’s armor feeling ixy as he throws them over his thighs. The steel sends a jolt through you, your hips canting backwards as your cock feels the cold steel. But Sir Arthur’s grip is strong, his forearm keeping your power back in place. His hips swivel, groaning as he paws at your ass.

Does he even have a-

Your sarcastic question is answered with a couple pull of straps and the clank of armor falling to the ground. Something hot, heavy, and sticky thwaps against your stomach, brushing against your cock.

Sir Artur is still lost in kissing your shoulder, leaving several hickeys behind, and you feel comfortable letting your eyes drift downward. Unsurprisingly, his inhuman cock is as green as his eye, though luckily not on fire. No, in fact the ghost-cock seems to ooze a neon fluid, not dissimilar from cheap ectoplasm effects in movies.

Well, I guess we don’t need lube.

Your thoughts take a turn as you're suddenly thrown on your back, ankles still hooked around his back as Sir Arthur pins you to the ground. He’s pulled away from your neck, now focused on pushing your thighs back to your chest.

“Too long I have been without touch. This heat-” Sir Arthur’s chest rumbles with a purr, the flaming eye pulsing, “-it’s addictive.”

A warm head pushes against your entrance and you thank whoever’s up there for that spooky slime he has going on, because wow this man was packing.

Sir Arthur takes his time sinking inside of you, savoring every second of stretching you open. His armor clinks together as his body shutters, head thrown back in a moan.

“By the gods.” He swears in a dead language as he reaches his hilt, green drool seeping out of his skull jaw. A keening whine comes for your chest, your cock twitching as the tapered head grazes against your prostate. 

The first thrust is tentative, but Sir Arthur seems encouraged by the yelp which explodes between your bitten lips. The nex thrust is slightly faster, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down your spine. Your toes curl behind his back, a drunken haze making your nerve ends tingle.

Sir Arthur’s armor trembles again, but it seems he’s found the rhythm he needs, and begins fuckign to you with a feevent desperation. Trails of slime connect your ass cheeks to his crotch as he thrusts down and into you, raspy breaths leaking from between his ribs. 

Beads of precum bubble at your tip, cock aching for a single touch. Your balls twitch and tighten with each of his guided humps, all targeted perfectly at your sensitive spot. Bubbles of blood come from your worried bottom lip, and your needy moans echo across the destroyed ruins of the castle.

A part of you prays no one else stumbles upon this site and overhears your debauchery, sees you spread wide open for this hulking beast of a corpse. This knight who is far too good at fucking, whose cock deserves to have a dildo modeled after it. With a slime function, of course.

Heavy balls slap against your ass, cold trails of Sir Arthur’s ooze dripping down your ass crack and onto the floor. An armored thumb presses down on your lower lip, prodding you to open your mouth. With a brain too cock-drunk to fight your jaw opens easily, the taste of polished metal on your tongue.

“Suck, whore.” Sir Arthur commands, voice dripping with desire. Your tongue wraps around each groove and sucks, your cheeks hollowing as Sir Arthur groans at the sight. The tears bubbling at the corners of your eyes, the mating press, it all drives him wild. The position of knight suits him well if all it takes is a little power to make him horny.

He’s not a particularly loud lover, Sir Arthur. Most of the noises is slapping skin and clinking armor, only some low grunts and curses joining the cacophony as fucks you with more and more fervor. But it’s the way his fiery eye begins to ignite, the way he bites his half lip enough to draw sickly green blood, and the tightness of his balls which tell you he’s close.

“I’m going to fill you to the brim.” Sir Arthur punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust against your prostate, spots dotting your vision. “You will leak of me for days, trespasser. I will make sure of it.”

You feel your own orgasm brewing in your stomach, cock weeping as your balls grow tight. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“F-fuck.” Sir Arthur draws out his vowel as he ends with several harried thrusts, hilted deep inside when he finally climaxes. What feels like a gallon of oozing, green-tinted cum fills you up, bursting from between the seams of your connection and spurting into the floor. He was right, you will be leaking him for days. Your own orgasms comes just as dramatically, mouth open inna breathless scream as you finish all over your stomach,

You don’t quite remember him leaving you, only the gaping emptiness left behind. It's taking a bit for your consciousness to reboot, to remember where you are. But there’s the sensation of cold against your skin, a wet rag rubbing down your sore entrance and across your stomach. A dull heat radiates through metal, massaging your thighs and neck as you’re laid on your back.

True warmth comes in the form of a heavy blanket, and your eyes flutter close under its softness. 

“Rest your eyes, artist.” Sir Arthur whispers. “I will escort you back when you awake.”

Your last thoughts are vague, somewhat remembering the various paints you brought with you, and the pain they’ll be to carry home unemptied.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Progenitor

Pairing(s): Jasper Hale x Vampire!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings: platonic Alice x Jasper, magic wielding vampire, no nahuel, alice can't see renesmee's future

Words:6,000+

"Tell me another story, cowboy." You impishly grin over to the man laying next to you. Your mate.

Really, there was no need for a bed in your room considering you never used it for actual sleep. That was beyond the both of you.

Jasper's smile is dashing against the flicker of your candles. His fingers are dancing over your shoulder and down your arm. "For someone who has lived for thousands of years, I'd figure you'd heard better stories."

You roll your eyes, kissing the plane of his chest. "This is the first time I've cared about the main character in those stories." It was true. Never had you cared about anyone as much as you did for Jasper. You just had to wait several centuries to meet the right one.

Through those years you'd taken many companions as well as turned many good friends and students. Even the oldest known vampires of the Volturi originate from your fangs. One would be lucky enough to boast that they were made by you. That meant something great in the known vampire community. Some even whispered that you were one of the first vampires in creation. You never spoke of your own origins. You told Jasper those were the dark ages of your life and were still not ready to go back to that time.

And for you to be even slightly interested in a young one like Jasper constantly confounds him. You ate up everything he told you, titillated by battle after battle that he won for Maria. Hanging on his every word with a sort of wide eyed innocence that was rare for their kind.

That's what he remembers (and misses) most about you. As much as the both of you loved one another, you couldn't stay in one place for too long. Jasper understood though both of you wish to see one another more often. As powerful as you were, it was something that neither of you could risk. Other vampires could sniff you out within moments. Not to mention you hadn't always necessarily been a nice vampire. One out of ten vampires was said to have a beef with you. It wasn't your safety that had you constantly roaming the world, it was the safety of the human world around you. Any city you were in could be preyed upon immediately by stray vamps who followed your scent.

Distance would never dampen the love you have for each other.

"I understand if you don't want to come-" Jasper has his phone pressed up against his ear and shoulder as he's shoving papers and folders into his backpack and other items he may need on his journey to South America. There were a few covens there that hey hoped to enlist as help.

"Oh hush Jasper. Of course I'll be there. Both Bella and Renesmee are family. I'll make up for lost time." His stomach warms when he can hear the smile on your lips through the phone speaker "And I think once Caius sees me, he'll convince the others to back down."

That's what the Cullens were banking on with asking you to come and defend your adoptive niece. After all, you were the progenitor of many of the vampires in existence today. Some way or another, they all were sired from your venom. Including Caius. He's been the most doting of your acolytes even if it did tend to cause a rift with the other two leaders of the Volturi. Marcus in particular since you'd defeated him several times throughout the centuries.

Off to the side of the room, Alice rolls her eyes. "See, I told you she'd be down!" She grabs Jasper's phone, monopolizing the call now. "He was worried that he'd be imposing too much on you. I told him that of course you'd help!"

Your laugh on the other end rings loud in his ears as he watches Alice cradle the phone to the side of her face. "You know how he is. My gentleman cowboy." Alice really did enjoy when the both of you ganged up on Jasper to embarrass him. It was delicious to watch him get flustered for once.

Having enough, Jasper snatches back his phone. "Alice and I are heading out soon. I don't know how long we'll be. . ."

"Don't worry. I have my house key. Relax, Jaz. Everything will be okay." If only the one power you did possess was Jasper's ability to control other's emotions, you would use it to calm him. "You two be careful and look out for one another. I'll be there."

God did he want to kiss you. To take you in his arms and let you reassure him in that way only you could. "Yes, ma'am. I love you."

"I love you too." Your voice lowers to a warm whisper.

When the call ends, Jasper stares at his black home screen. He takes a deep breath and shoves it inside his back pocket. Missing you wasn't going to aid him in any way at the moment.

In the background he vaguely makes out Alice's excited chatter, excitement raised her octave.

"I can't wait for Bella and Renesmee to meet her!"

"They're going to adore her."

"Don't you think Jasper?"

"Jasper?"

She actually had to reach out to him and give a small nudge with her index and middle finger. His head whips to her, finally catching his attention.

"Sorry." He mutters having heard none of Alice's rambling.

"You heard her. Why are you so worried? You know that she won't let anything bad happen. The Volturi would be stupid to initiate a fight with her here." She sets aside her own bag she'd been working on and crosses her arms in front of her chest. "We have to pull out our big gun."

"I hate of thinking of her like that. She's been everyone's big gun for centuries." Jasper just sighs and sits down on the edge of the couch, fingers digging into the upholstery. Esme won't be happy when she finds small nail marks in it.

Alice eyes him for a moment before pointing out "You know she'd do a lot more for you if you let her. To her, this is small peanuts." A new thought abruplty comes to her mind as she changes the subject. "You remembered to get those documents for Bella, right?"

In reply, his eyes dart to the manila envelope that lay on his desk. Alice's gaze follows to where Jasper's eyes had fallen. The envelope he'd obtained from J. Jenks. It was to be used under the worst case scenario.

"I hope Bella doesn't have to use it." He admits, hauling his backpack over his shoulders.

Try as she might, Alice couldn't force a vision that involved the outcome of the Volturi's visit. Couldn't even see Jasper's mate. But Alice trusted you, more than any other member of the Cullen coven. She knew you'd pull through, even without the use of her powers, she knew you would not let your family be threatened, even if you had yet to meet the two newest members.

You were forced to miss the wedding of Edward and Bella due to. . . circumstances. Regardless, you had sent them a present accompanied by a letter of congratulations. What better way to meet your sister-in-law and niece than by intervening on their behalf and chasing off the Volturi?

When you'd hung up from talking to Jasper and Alice, you tap the phone against your chin in thought. The room you'd been renting out was lit only by moonlight from outside. This way of living did get awfully lonely. You spoke to your family as often as you could. Visiting every five years at the very least. Thus was the solitary life of an ancient. You'd forgotten much of your early life, couldn't remember if you'd ever been human. There's a slim chance at that. The furthest back you could remember was a world of darkness and other screeching creatures. A small recollection that you'd once had inhuman body. But it felt like a dream, maybe another life completely.

In your long, long life, never did you have anything resembling a family. You were always alone with blood filled thoughts and the feeling you got when you shattered pathetic armies of men.

You changed accordingly as the world evolved as well. The forming of countries. The fall of them. From huts to skyscrapers. You found it almost appallingly easy to get victims if you were already assimilated into their society. They would have no clue of the real monster you were. Not until it was too late.

Then on a whim and also after hearing the bloodshed going on in the states, you met Maria and Jasper. She was pleading her case for revenge against the Volturi and had felt your presence in the vicinity. You'd heard that your scent was unmistakeable.

When you asked Jasper what your scent smelled like, he'd tried his best. "It's the essence of power, my love. There's a deep, heady richness to it. As if it has been steeped in the secrets of the universe. A haunting presence that clings to one's senses."

What would that even smell like? You'd wondered. When you sniffed your arm, all you smelled was the faint kiss of juniper berries.

Maria proposed the take down of the Volturi and how easily it could be done with you. She hadn't anticipated your hesitation. While you didn't agree with the massive coven, you would never go out of your way to meddle with their business. After all, Caius was your fledgling. The very first. Of course you'd be sentimental over him. Sharing your venom was not something to take lightly, at least that's what you thought.

And you doubted Maria's ability of warfare compared to the trio that ruled the Volturi. Her army of newborns was impressive without a doubt, but she was still young herself. You, Marcus, Caius and Aro were overwhelmingly more experienced.

Jasper was just an infant compared to the millenia you've lived or even the hundreds of years Maria may have been alive during. Yet he makes you feel. . . entirely new. Makes you feel something you'd never felt even toward another vampire.

Having never experienced it before, even you knew what it was you were feeling: love. Love at first sight. Quite pathetic but, alas, you have no control over your own emotions. Annoying, but you let yourself fall into it. Titillated by everything you felt when around Jasper Whitlock. Never had you felt so alive. Each kiss, each caress sent flames across your skin. You never knew how dead you'd really been. While you had the face and body of youth, you don't recall a moment where you felt like how you looked now.

You met him during a time where even Jasper was feeling depressed about his immortal life. He was tired of living the way Maria did. Nothing satisfied him. Until he saw you. It was like his heart started beating (but of course that was impossible). Even if she wanted to, Maria didn't fight against it when Jasper told her he was leaving her coven to be with you.

He's been the only one to see the magic you could do without it being stemmed from violence. Real, arcane magic. You'd briefly mentioned the wars you'd been able to win. The amount of people you'd slain. That didn't deter him. That didn't define you.

This is the one battle you would win for love.

Everyone was gathered in the near blinding snow capped surroundings. All except for you. Wolves and the Cullens on one side, black clad Volturi on the other. No one dares to make the first move. All looked to the coven leader, Carlisle, to do the greetings.

He looks to his adopted granddaughter, his family that he built and would do anything to protect. Renesmee beams up at him with apprehensive, big eyes.

Carlisle moves forward, his feet leaving prints in the snow. Aro's skin would have made him blend easily in the blurring snow were it not for his red eyes and black attire. His immortal, handsome face smiles when Aro greets Carlisle.

"Aro, Iet us discuss things as we used to. In a civilized manner." Proposes Carlisle. Hopefully he can take up enough time until you show up.

A dark brow raises on Aro's face. "Fair words, Carlisle. But a little out of place, given the battalion you've assembled against us." His eyes move from Carlisle and scan to behind him where several vampire covens and a pack of wolves wait for the signal to take action.

"I can promise you, that was never my intent. No laws have been broken." True, though the wolves may be a sticky subject to broach. Aro appeared more concerned about the little girl whose eyes bore into the Volturi leader.

Caius' lips curls in disdain. "We see the child. Do not treat us as fools."

"She is not an immortal." Carlisle counters, his arm opening wide to gesture to the Cullens' own army. "These witnesses can attest to that. Or you can look. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks."

While it hadn't been a particularly sunny day, everyone on the frozen field found themselves abruptly bathed in darkness. Above, the clouds had darkened and congregated thickly together. Still, they were able to make out a black shadow among the clouds. Many are left guessing but only Caius and Jasper knew what (or who) it was. Caius' eyes sparkle in veneration as he intently watches his creator break past the clouds with large bat-like wings. You must appear as some twisted angel the way you slowly descend to the ground, landing next to Carlisle.

His smile is bright and screaming relief. "Sorry I'm late." You apologize first to Carlisle.

Jasper catches the flick of your eyes toward him and finally he feels his face release from tension. He takes one step before Alice stops him. While everyone is happy to see you, this was a dangerous environment right now. If Jasper were to suddenly move and go to you, the Volturi might mistake it as an aggressive attack. Best to stay still and watch you take care of everything.

Renesmee grips her mother's leg. Her touch sends her thoughts straight to Bella. "Is she my aunt?"

Bella gapes in shock as your wings appear to shrink until they recoil and disappear completely. Edward had told her you were. . . quite old. Older than any other vampire out there. and that you possessed powers beyond her comprehension.

Stiffly she nods her head at Renesmee.

"Better late than never. It's good to see you." Carlisle pats you on the shoulder.

Before you'd landed, you'd already registered both sides of the battle. You counted how many each had, reveling in the marvel of the massive wolves that stood alongside the covens on the Cullens' side. And you'd seen the girl that was your niece. A unique thing she was. Even from high up in the sky you could see her veins filled with blood coursing inside of her. She was more human than vampire.

The breathy whisper of your name has you turning around to finally look at the Volturi's side. Despite Aro being leader, it was Caius who had called out to you. He always did have a beautifully bright smile whenever he gazed at you. Utterly devoted to his mistress.

You hadn't seen him for near three hundred years. His duties to the Volturi clashed with your values. There was no ill will between either of you though. "Caius. How unfortunate we have to see one another under these circumstances."

"So you know what's going on." Aro tensely holds a grin when he speaks to you. Like you were a ticking time bomb that had to be dealt with carefully. Behind him you didn't miss Marcus who shoots you a glare. He's tasted defeat by you before. It rose up once more in his mouth, bitter.

You casually nod. "I do. The very instant I saw the child, even I knew her to be of mix blood. Can you not smell the blood circulating in her?" Throwing them a condescending smile you continue "But if you truly need proof that she is not an immortal, then read her thoughts."

That had been the Cullen's plans all along. To have Renesmee explain for herself through her thoughts and memories.

Bella didn't like the idea of Renesmee going up to the Volturi by herself. Even worse was the thought that Aro had to actually touch her in order to read her mind. You could smell her apprehension and turn your back on the Volturi to go over to the Cullen's end. You take note of the Romanian vampires shying away from you. You give the members of your family quick embraces before you're brought to where Bella has a protective hand on Renesmee's shoulder. On the girl's other side was a massive rust furred wolf that snarls at you.

You carefully go down to your knees so you could properly address her. "Hi Renesmee. It's nice to finally meet you." Your voice is soft, expression gentle that didn't bely the deadly predator that you could be. Introducing yourself, Renesmee smiles at you; reaching her hand out so that she can introduce herself in her own way. You let her small hand fall upon your cheek and you're pulled into her thoughts.

Happiness.

Curiosity.

Nervousness.

She was aware all of this was her fault. That if the Volturi didn't believe her, so many people she cared about would be killed.

Covering her hand with your larger one, you give her your promise. She smiles knowing it to be true. You drop her hand and stand back up to look at Bella. "Would it be alright if I walk her over?"

Of course you knew that even though you were a Cullen, you were still a stranger. Ridiculous that she was expected to trust you with her child.

But Renesmee touches Bella's hand now. Renesmee trusts you. Bella chews on her bottom lips before relenting. She turns to the wolf. "You should probably stay here, Jake."

Fearlessly, Renesmee walks hand in hand with you to the other end. "Your wings are pretty." The child's thoughts ring in your head.

You tenderly smile at her. "Thank you. Once this is done, I'll take you flying if you want."

Murmurs ripple through the members and witnesses of the Volturi once you present Renesmee to Aro, your protective hand still holding onto Renesmee's. "Well Aro, you want a firsthand recount to her creation. Here she is. Renesmee, why don't you show Aro what you showed me."

Impressed by her fearlessness when Renesmee offers him a smile. Her voice is small but doesn't squeak. "Hello, Aro." Aro offers her his hand but instead Renesmee motions for him to crouch down so she could touch his cheek. The moment her fingers lay against the white flesh, you notice Aro's eyes grow distant.

Then he starts to delightfully. "Magnifico! Half mortal, half immortal. Conceived and carried by this newborn while she was still human." You'd never seen such a sparkle in his red eyes as he now takes in Renesmee for who she truly is. Not a monster that they had feared but just a special little girl.

Behind him though, there were unsatisfied grimaces and wary, darting eyes. This has you inching closer to your niece.

"It's unheard of!" Caius shrieks.

"There are many strange things in this world, Caius. You should know that by now." You patiently tell him. He relaxes at your words, happy enough that his mistress doesn't seem too bothered by this advancement. "Creatures of the deep. Those that lurk in shadows much like us." You momentarily inhale the air, smelling the wolves. "And those who are not what they seem."

While Caius is all too ready to accept the defeat and have the army stand down, Marcus snaps his fingers with the only instruction of "Bring the informer forward."

Ah yes, Irina. You'd met her once, maybe twice. Her expression is dour. If it were possible, she looked even more pale. She didn't have the golden eyes like those on a vegetarian diet. They were pitch black showing that she'd refrained from eating. Irina doesn't meet your gaze, she keeps her eyes gawking at Renesmee before she trains them down to her feet.

Confused by the tension she was feeling from Irina's guilty features, Renesmee sidles up to you; her hands gripping at your warm yarn coat that was just for looks.

"Is that the child you saw?" Marcus inquires.

Her nerves are impossible to conceal in her voice. "I'm not sure. . ."

"That's enough, Marcus. Renesmee's parentage has been cleared." You snap partially to save Irina any further embarrassment. Aro shoots you a look that tells you he didn't appreciate you undermining his authority. "None of your precious laws have been broken here."

Irina's fretful eyes do not lighten up. She knew the mistake she made. While you were more lenient nowadays, the Volturi would not appreciate being made a fool of like this. You could hear the small feet of Jane move as she anticipates the command from her leaders to get rid of Irina. You're fast to correct her with a hiss and baring your teeth. They weren't razor straight like the vampires of today. Your cuspids and lateral incisors were elongated and extremely sharp. Jane's eyes widen in alarm and she teeters on her next step before returning to her brother's side with a scornful glare. As much as she wished, her powers had no affect on you. Maybe in another thousand years Jane would be strong enough to subjugate you with her power. But until then she was but a baby.

Boldly you move toward Irina. While the other Volturi members twitch to move against you, one glare from you was enough to freeze them. Fury simmering in his gaze as he doesn't take his eyes off of you. Gently you take her by the arm. She shoots the Volturi scared looks but ultimately is pulled by you to Carlisle. Before removing your hand from her though, you force her to look you in the eyes.

"You will repent for what you have done. Beg forgiveness from the Cullens." Your whisper is a low one, but harshly hissed as you say it to her. "And remember this, Irina, if you pull a stunt like this again or anything that would betray the Cullens there is no place on this planet for you to hide. I'll give you the most excruciating death that I haven't dealt to anyone in a millennia."

Her throat bobs nervously, unable to rip her gaze from you out of fear. She stiffly nods, understanding that you'd have your eye on her for the rest of her immortal life. Carlisle gets her behind him.

Seeing that she was secured, you move on to your next point of business. "Irina has made a mistake, that is true, but no harm has been done. Whatever damage she's done was more so toward our family's trust in her. That is something we, as a family, will deal with." You nudge Renesmee towards Carlisle and motion with your head for the two of them to return to the Cullen's side of the field. Renesmee tugs a bit in resistance, not wanting to leave you. You pat her on the head as she passes to go with Carlisle. You don't take your eyes off of Aro.

Aro hates how he finds himself flinching a little bit when you consciously oppress him with your superior aura. All of the black clothed figures behind him shiver as well. "We don't know what she will become. The child is sweet and innocent right now. But she is the first known hybrid in creation. We don't know what will happen unless Alice has seen it."

Alice steps up. "It's hard to see the future of Renesmee. Even I cannot see." She'd tried many times to the point of giving herself a raging headache. The girl's fate was too intertwined with the wolves.

Her failure encourages Aro in his argument, you could see his mouth forming a smile that didn't meet his eery, scarlet eyes.

"Then I shall watch over her." The falling of Aro's face is priceless. "Who better to take care of an unknown variable than her very own aunt?" This was to be a discussion with her parents after the Volturi left. But you honestly thought that Renesmee traveling with you was the best option right now. At least until you're certain that she really would do no harm to humans. And she was the first interesting thing to happen to you since you met Jasper.

"You would make her a sanguinovite?" Caius breathes out, eyes jerking from you to Renesmee. Caius and Renesmee would be considered bonded via you as Caius was your apprentice by blood.

"I do."

Caius' shoulders slump. He was forbidden from causing harm against Renesmee.

But that didn't stop Aro or Marcus.

"Let us confer. We will use the facts that we have gathered." Wanting to keep some semblance of authority, Aro doesn't wait to hear your reply as he turns his back to you. At least Caius had enough piety to give you a quick bow before following the other two. Their wives linger behind them with guards encircling around them. Athenodora, Caius' wife, offers you a fleeting smile before whipping her head back at the tug of Sulpicia.

Sighing at the petulant child that Aro was, you walk back to your family who was anxiously waiting. The Denali coven are more concerned with making sure Irina was okay as they fret around her. You catch Tanya scolding her sister with a watery, relieved voice.

Jasper comes up to you and immediately you let go of your big bad vampire facade and melt into his embrace. You cling to him, fingers bunching up the back of his shirt. You allow the soothing of his power to wash over you. "I'm sorry I was late."

He chuckles against the crown of your head, pressing his lips against your temple. "It doesn't matter. You're here." His arms tighten around you.

"I missed you dearly." You whisper against his chest.

"And I you." His nose nuzzles against my face, coaxing a kiss from me.

He'd barely pressed his lips against mine before Edward is clearing his throat. Reminding you and Jasper to keep it cool as there was a child staring at you with large eyes.

Seeing that she has your attention, Renesmee immediately asks "Do you think it worked? Will they go now?"

"They'd be foolish not to." You smile at her.

"Hey, about what you said-" Edward starts but you were already ready to be confronted about the claim you made over Renesmee.

"I know. I should have talked it over with you first and gotten your permission. I'm sorry about that. But it was the only thing I could think to say to prevent violence." You explain.

Bella hooks her arm through Edward's and leans in to him, listening. She was still wary around you. Your scent probably didn't help either. It tend to aggravate other vampires.

Edward sighs, patting Bella's hand softly. "Thank you, by the way. For everything you're doing. I. . . We'll talk about Renesmee being your sanguinovite later. Would you really?"

"Of course I would. I know I haven't been around, but that doesn't mean I love my family any less. You and the rest of the Cullens have been my first and only family. When I married Jasper, I vowed to protect him. Then when we joined you and Carlisle, I promised to defend all that were in our coven for we are all family now." Family. . . Family had never meant anything to you before them. Really, they could tell you to annihilate any coven that threatened them and you would do so without hesitation. They didn't know the extent you would go to assure their security.

He swallows back the emotions that were surfacing across his pale features. "We are all family." Edward whispers, a choke in his tone.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I REFUSE TO BE PART OF THIS!!"

Caius' voice was ear piercing across the frozen expanse of the land. It draws everyone's attention to the opposing side.

That didn't bode well.

Edward hisses something that you don't catch. You're already stomping over to the halfway mark that both had used before.

Don't be fucking stupid Aro. Don't do it. Your mind screams out. If only Aro had the telepathy that Edward did. Don't make me hurt all of you.

A few yards away, Caius and Athenodora are running to you but he's being hounded by fast, Volturi guards.

"CAIUS!!!" Voice booming and ice underneath you shattering completely, you feel your wings shoot from your back and take to the air.

Your ears ring by the velocity you shoot across to get to your first vampire creation. Veins running searingly hot, your eyes glow with an intensity that matches the strength of your magic. It shook the trees that surrounded the glade, shaking the ice until there were splintering cracks surfacing and splitting the ice as you summoned your magic that had defeated many armies before.

The ice around Caius sharply pierces upward, piercing the Volturi guards that were trying to capture him and Athenodora. Dozens of jagged icicles arise from the ground to form a barrier against them.

Through the opening above the barricade, you swoop down and grab Caius and Athenodora. When bolting back into the sky above you could see that your actions had surprised both sides. No one moved an inch for a moment. Not until Aro starts shouting, condemning you as a apostate. That's when the spell cast on both sides was broken and all hell broke loose.

Not wanting to stop, you drop both of them off as close to the Cullen's side as possible. Caius knew he'd have to get out of there the moment his feet hit the ground. It wasn't safe for them here. Not anymore.

Performing a swift u-turn, you're faster than the Cullen horde advancing on the Volturi.

A twitch of your fingers was all you needed to summon half of your power. You call forth the creatures feared by wraiths. The shadows twisted and turned, forming monstrous specters that rose from the ground. Both sides come to a crashing halt at the creatures that were clawing their way from the earth. They glomp on to the nearest Volturi member, their touch much like Jane's power to cause immediate pain. Howls and shrieks erupt from the Volturis, enough to keep the Cullen side at bay. They watch with horrified awe.

Your magic has always been an ancient and violent one. Primal and raw.

A long dead language flows past your lips. The syllables were not ones humans could pronounce. Wraiths grab not just Aro, but the others who possessed special powers that have aided the Volturi in their quest for domination. They're brought forth to you. None are able to use their unique abilities. Not under your suffocating aura that rendered them immobile.

I should have done this a long time ago. You think to yourself. But you're Caius was involved with them. That was really why you kept your opinions about the Volturi to yourself. But now they were an immediate threat to those you care about.

All of them are lined up in front of you, the others being held back by their own wraith captors.

You stare them down ruthlessly, you could feel your form shifting a little to resemble even a sliver of your original form. The rest of your teeth sharpen and form into fine points. Talons larger than any predatory bird out there replace your small, human fingers.

"I was hoping you'd be wiser than this, children." Your voice isn't your's. It belongs to a dark god from a time before humanity was as civilized as it was.

You can taste Aro and Marcus' fear. Tangy but enjoyable to your palate. A taste you miss. You extend your clawed hand toward the Volturi leaders, curved claws glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. One by one, you focus your attention on those that were pushed down to their knees. Each one had used their power to benefit the Volturi. To cast terror among those who refused to bend to their will.

Jane is snarling at you, trying her best to use her pain waves against you but she was as powerless as her brother beside her. Demetri, Renata, even Chelsea were all present.

You rip their powers from them, strip their core of what made them special. Their bodies jerk from your magic penetrating them. Many struggle to no avail. Like pulling an anchor from the depths of the sea, you give a good tug with your claws. Spheres of light that were the embodiment of their abilities. Weakly, Aro attempts to reach for his as it floats from his chest toward you.

Collecting them all, you fuse them together with more ancient words until their combined abilities were formed into an ornate necklace.

You stare at them, useless husks of what they once were. "Do you still wish to continue with your attack?"

They're panting from the pain of a part of themselves being ripped out of them. The other members who were standing in as mere witnesses are already scurrying, getting out of their before your mercy ran out.

"You-" Aro hisses out, clutching at his abdomen.

Teasingly you dangle the necklace in front of all of them. "I suggest all of you go back to your lair. There is no way any of you are getting your powers back any time soon. Trust me, this is me showing kindness that none of you deserve. Let this be a firm reminder to you, that all members of my family are off limits. Know your place."

Aro and Marcus seethe but know the threat behind your words. They were lucky to be leaving with their lives intact.

"Be gone." You growl. "I don't want to have to deal with you again. And if Caius does decide to return to your guild for whatever reason, you are to treat him with nothing but polite civility."

If his looks could actually kill, you were sure Aro would have smite you down in that instant. Alas, he's as weak as any normal vampire now.

"For me?" Renesmee smiles, bewitched by the necklace you offer her.

Everyone was back at the Cullen residence. Some of the other covens, seeing that the conflict was over, went back to their individual countries. The Denali coven were all congregated upstairs while the Cullens were in the living room.

"Who better to have their powers than you?" You place it in her small palms. "You can be the one to decide whether the Volturi are worthy enough to have their powers back."

"That's amazing." Bella breathes, admiring the necklace gifted to her daughter. "All their powers are in there?"

You nod. "Yup. It's a spell I picked up from the Mycenaeans. A little after I'd turned Caius. A fate worse than death for many vampires. As long as you have this, I don't think they'll be causing you any problems. Protect it and keep it safe, Renesmee."

She looks up at you, a worshipper gazing up at their god. "I will."

Standing up, you turn to your mate. "Shall we retire?"

Jasper had been patiently waiting all day to have some alone time with you. Now that the chaos was subsiding, it was the perfect opportunity.

He eagerly takes your hand, making Alice giggle, and the both of you bolt up the stairs to where Jasper's room was. Well, it was your shared room honestly. There were many of your possessions there. Paintings, little bobbles/souvenirs, an authentic Persian rug that you won from a sultan. A lot of your clothes were still hung or folded neatly in the wardrobe.

His pupils are blown out when he looks at you, a black dime cradled in a blanket of gold. "You never cease to amaze me." Hands on either side of your face, he kisses you deeply to further show his devotion. Between kisses, he gasps out praise for your strength, for the power that flowed in you.

You squeal out a giggle, something your enemies would gawk at. You always felt so young when Jasper gathered you up in his arms to transfer you to the bed.

Jasper hovers over you, his blonde hair dangling on either side of his face.

You grin. "Come here, cowboy."

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Sacred beings (pt.1)

Albert Wesker X fem! Reader

Summary: She was a creation of his, supposed to have died during the difficult process, she was labeled as dead, but she managed to escape and now he's the one to hunt her down...

[before you read I’d like to inform you that this fanfic is going to have up to 30 parts. It’s not based on the main storyline of Resident evil so please don’t get mad after reading this, I warned you beforehand. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and let me know if you would want more!]

It was late in the evening in the headquarters of Umbrella corporation. The scientists have been switching their positions, some leaving for the day and others coming to take over their place for the night, yet the number has visibly lessened. There were a few that refused to leave most of the time, but those are the fools that sold their souls for the experiments that'd make every normal human's stomach twist in disgust.

Y/N, the one who's been stripped off her name, who already forgot who she's been before being dragged to this hell of a place, before all she could hear were her own screams of agony followed by a terrifying echo in the hallway. She was special. She was labeled as fragile goods, meant to be tested carefully, by the best of the best and only most trusted scientists were allowed to break inside her comfort space to observe her, like an exotic animal locked in a cage. The fact that she's been there for so long alone made her special, the fact that she survived most cruel experiments, until one...

"Test subject 087 has escaped!" The voice is nothing but a mere echo through the empty hallways, all painted in cold colors to match the laboratory interior. There were guns, many of them, as heavily armored men have entered. "Close all the exits, no one is allowed to leave the building." The voice continues, it's emotionless, calm, too much for any human being. As the speakers tremble with each word, the employees make sure to obey, staying in the same positions they've been in. Of course, they wouldn't want to get into any trouble, knowing how cruel Umbrella's politics can be.

The young woman, in her late twenties, was sneaking around the place, hiding behind every other corner in hopes that the exit is close. This was either run or die situation, there was nothing else she could do, although her weakened body tried to resist every single move she made. There were no shoes covering her bare feet and each step onto the cold floor sent shivers down her spine. She moved quickly and quietly, like a fox even though her head was spinning and her vision blurry. The cameras in every corner were obvious, so she only made sure to hide her face in high hopes of them not recognizing her. She barely had a few minutes to disappear before they run at her with guns and shields to get rid off another thing they created. No, she couldn't let it be that way. She wanted to live, she craved it, the feeling of being alive, free.

In one room, where a man named Oswell Earl Spencer has been occupied by the newest reports made by his subordinates until now, was already a plan to be made. He's been a clever man, that is for sure, determined to reach his goals at all cost, no matter the losses nor pain caused to the innocent.

"Send for him," he'd order one of the guards. He didn't even need to say the name out loud, it was his obvious favorite, his greatest creation that was capable of handling such a situation. "He's responsible for her. Tell him to catch her." He adds, tapping a finger on the surface of his desk impatiently. He jerks his head towards the door, to make the other man hurry and make the order clear. A dead meat has escaped, an experiment that was supposed to be far from alive, on the other side even. Yes, she was pronounced dead just early this morning and yet, when the sun came down and the darkness took over the world, that's when she seemed to have been resurrected and miraculously brought back to life. It was one of the very few failures of the feared and respected Albert Wesker, the one who was infected himself and who was supposed to make that woman the same, perhaps even better, however he was almost sure of that she would not survive the virus, not when it wasn't fully developed, he thought that when he saw her in the morning, it was the last time. He's seen her take her last breath, seen her eyes wide open with nothing but emptiness in them, not even the fear she used to possess was there. The virus didn't even create a 'superior' form of her body, no changes to be seen at all. It was just... nothing. The devastating truth hit him like a bus, he was not meant to disappoint again... His failure was something that enraged him, way more than the life that was lost. He's the best of the best, so why did he fail again? He spent the rest of the day turning his usually peaceful office upside down, searching for any type of clue on what he did wrong. But now that she's disappeared, there's hope, there's hope that she might be a worthy person, someone in whom lies the future as much as in him.

Wesker is quick to jump to his feet when he hears the order, his eyes widening in hope. He's going to find her... He's going to hunt her down and bring her back, no matter what...

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