#*snuffed ; ooc

[crownshattered]

|| Me, reading up on drow lore (specifically personality traits: Hmm, interesting... *drops it in the trash*

[ofyorkshire]

thinkin' about............... vindictive, angry, vengeful bj.

[eternalstretchofmuses]

A Tumblr art piece

[blueheartedmayor]

Good morning again.

I am warning everyone now. I have been thinking of WKM!Damien. You may (or may not) know that I said that when he became the dark being after DAMIEN, Dante lost his humanity.

Well, I've been thinking about what precisely I mean by that (since it isn't just the literal meaning of being a human) and... let's just say the criminal charges put against him were actually acts of kindness (and being framed in one instance). Be prepared for feels.

[magiclcss]

the urge to scream about kaede in her bsd verse is strong tonight folks

[liesandalibis]

oh, my kingdom for a gren ( ˘ ³˘ ) ♥

[undertheorangetree]

Snowed In

Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.

Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)

dividers by me

"They've just closed campus."

Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.

"Closed? What do you mean closed?"

"It says they had to on account of the weather."

"No, they haven't. Let me see."

He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.

She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.

"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"

He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.

She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"

She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.

Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.

The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.

There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.

Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."

He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."

Read the rest here

[acciotaitlynn]

hello!!!! can i request some sylus biker gun play if that’s something you’d be interested in writing?

❥・ IF i'm interested—lets goooo ⤷ i went pretty dark w this, if this is triggering in any way, lemme know, i'll be happy to make a softer one for u ✿ ˙ᵕ˙

⟢ sylus‣you

⟢ 18+ sexual content. unprotected sex. p in da v. gun play. knife play. degradation. public sex. triggering situations such as violence, death, mentions of assault against women, non/dubcon relationship. OOC. this has very dark themes and your mental health matters; please tread carefully ♡

⟢ 4,362 words

/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿💥Sylus was consumed by a rare fury, an intensity he hadn’t felt in ages. Somehow, you had once again found a way to ignite this volatile storm within him—a fire that blistered through his usual calm. Normally, he avoided public displays of dominance,  preferring to keep his strength subdued, but tonight, as he sat at his usual spot in the bar's dimly lit corner, he decided to abandon those restraints.

He watched you, neon lights tracing your face with hues of electric blues and reds as you shamelessly flirted with a circle of men. Your grin was playful, your eyes daring—it was a juvenile act to spark Sylus’s jealousy, a game you had played before. Ordinarily, Sylus indulged your antics—the possessive, fervent aftermath was always unforgettable. But tonight, you crossed a line. Your plea for help with the pool cue, the way their hands lingered over you, nearly pushed him over the edge… but grinding against one man’s embrace as you bent low to align your shot—that was when his patience snapped.

The bar, typically a biker's sanctuary of laughter and the nostalgic croon of the jukebox, became an unbearable den to his ears, each sound fueling his anger. Without a word, his presence expanded, his dark evol extending like shadows on the floor, seeking out the jukebox’s plug and ripping it free from the wall. Music died abruptly, leaving a stark silence in its wake. Conversations hushed as every head turned toward Sylus, drawn by the palpable storm of anger rolling off him in waves.

In this place, his true identity was a mystery, yet instinct whispered to everyone: fear him. He rose with a deliberate slowness, each move calculated and cold. As he slipped off his black leather jacket, it clung to his skin, as though absorbing the heat of his simmering anger. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and an icy fear coursed through your veins at the intensity of his gaze.  Without thinking, your body recoiled until your back pressed against the wall. Sylus had always cloaked you in kindness—a rare privilege he reserved for you, and you alone. Yet now, as you gazed into the shadows lurking in his eyes, you realized that even his love had its limits.

His voice was almost soft, yet it reverberated through the oppressively quiet room. “Out.” Just one word, spoken with such quiet authority, and the room obeyed in a heartbeat. Chairs scraped the floor, abandoned belongings and unfinished drinks littered the tables as people hurried to escape. The men you’d used to taunt Sylus scrambled to leave, even more desperate than the rest to escape his ominous presence. But with a flick of Sylus's wrist, a swirling black and red mist enveloped them, lifting them off their feet and hurling them against the wall.

The cries and dull thuds as their bodies hit the ground churned your stomach, fear threatening to consume you. The mist obediently lifted the men once more, wrenching them into chairs and holding them captive. Its tendrils coiled tighter around them with each futile struggle, suffocating their resistance until it ceased all together. Their eyes, wide with terror, found Sylus, their fear a stark mirror to your own. One, seated closest to you, succumbed fully to his dread, a dark stain spreading across his pants.

“Sylus…” you began, but his piercing glare snuffed out your words like a candle in the wind. Sylus savored the fear that encased you, the anxious bob of your throat, the intoxicating quiver in your voice. This dark fascination was unexpected, yet here he stood—painfully hard with desire at the sight. His voice, cold and commanding, addressed the men, his hand slowly curling into a fist. The air tightened around them, eliciting a symphony of gasps and choked cries before the phantom grip released, the oppressive mist disappearing as a heavy silence filled the room. “Move, and you die,” The words hung ominously in the air, the undercurrent of bloodlust evident. Though freed from Sylus’s grasp, none of the men dared to move, acutely aware that he was deathly serious.

Sylus brushed a lock of hair from your face, the gesture both tender and chilling, his eyes betraying the storm of displeasure below the surface. Without warning, his hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you forward. The men averted their gazes instantly, each finding sudden fascination in the faded memorabilia and photographs lining the walls as you stumbled in front of them. Sylus chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, his fingers trailing from your neck to your shoulder. With a harsh tug, he pulled down your dress strap. The lack of bra—something you now immensely regretted—left your breast exposed to the chill of the dim room’s air.

The men, for all their prior foolishness, had enough self preservation to keep their gazes averted. “What’s this?,” Sylus taunted, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Losing interest already? Moments ago, each of you revealed just how much you desired her. I saw it—the longing in your eyes, your arms around her as you gazed down, eager to see these very breasts.” His body enclosed you from behind, echoing the men’s earlier actions, his hand uncovering your other breast, before traveling to the hem of your dress. You fought against him, but it was futile; he lifted the fabric above your waist, fingers pushing your panties aside as he traced a path through your folds. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as Sylus’s fingers slipped through your arousal, stirring the slickness with a lewd noise.

“I know exactly what crossed your minds when you dared to lay a hand on what’s mine.” Sylus sang, his voice a cold, mocking melody. “You imagined her on that pool table, helpless beneath you, as you forced your stunted cocks into her perfect little cunt…Or am I mistaken?” His finger delved deeper, a slow, deliberate invasion, while his other hand pinched your nipple harshly. “Here’s a tip for the future—if I allow you one,” he continued with a menacing edge, “be wary of the shadows before unveiling plans to prey on unsuspecting women.” A gasp escaped your lips. You knew the men were attracted to you—a necessary part of your intricate game— but they had seemed harmless, veiled behind hearty laughter and bright smiles—nothing like the predators painted in Sylus’s words. Yet, as chairs creaked and shifted, the men squirming under Sylus’s harsh truth, nausea churned within you.

Your hair was brushed aside as Sylus traced kisses down your neck and across your shoulders. Then suddenly, you were airborne, enveloped in that swirling mist of crimson and shadow, only to be set gently on the pool table. The coarse felt prickled against your back as Sylus pinned you, hitching up your dress and slipping your panties into his pocket. Fear surged anew as you writhed against the supernatural force holding you captive. His name slipped from your lips on a terrified exhale, your body trembling as fear overtook you. He barely acknowledged you, his lips curling into a sinister smirk that promised danger.

“How amusing that you thought she was truly interested in you,” Sylus sneered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “When she walked in on my arm, my essence marking her every step—she couldn’t wait to drape herself over my motorcycle when we arrived, a plea for my cock forming on those pretty lips before I could even cut the engine.” You whimpered softly as a tendril of Sylus’s power slid down your body, playing delicately before filling you completely. It was a sensation you’d once loved, now twisted into a cruel tool to use against you. Another tendril held you open, teasing your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles as the one inside you pumped slow and deep. Your body betrayed you, responding despite your attempts to fight it, tears welling in your eyes. Just like the men, struggling only intensified the suffocating grip around you, and you quickly realized stillness was your only option. You forced yourself to relax, though the searing heat of unwanted arousal lingered ominously.

His voice returned, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. “Each of you truly believed that she was captivated by you—her beguiling eyes and wicked smile led you on. Yet, you were all blind to the game she played.” Another tendril of power reached out from the ominous mist to trace your lip, tugging almost teasingly before retreating. Sylus tilted his head slightly, a calculating and almost sadistic look settling on his face as he addressed the men. “Let me show you true desire,” he purred, his tone a concoction of menace and allure as a chilly promise weaved through his voice. “You’ve shown bravery along with your stupidity tonight, so consider this a reward—a glimpse into what your heart craves. Listen as she unravels beneath my touch, her cries and pleas the only thing you’ll witness—look at her once more, and she’ll be the last sight you ever see.” His words hung heavily in the air, sending a shiver down your spine as their dark implication set in. Nearby, a man began to sob openly, the pitiful sound mingling with the acrid odor of fear and the sight of his soiled pants. The horror etched into his face mirrored your own, nausea swirling in your stomach as silent tears etched paths down your cheeks. Blinking rapidly, you tried in vain to erase the image now imprinted on your mind.

Sylus had little left to say to the quivering cowards before him—those who had once possessed the gall to go near you but now trembled beneath a stench of fear so strong it was palpable in the air. He inhaled the scent greedily, his lips curling into a predatory smile as he turned his gaze on you. The way you struggled as his fingers brushed along your jaw fed something dark inside him, your body a canvas of fear beneath his touch. You remained silent, eyes locked onto his crimson orbs, catching the fiery glow of his aether core—a mirror to the anger simmering within him.

A sliver of consciousness acknowledged the wrongness of his actions, a small voice that recoiled at the thought of causing you fear or pain… But that voice was little more than a whisper, drowned out by the pleasure coursing through him. His fingers traced your trembling form with an unsettling gentleness. His lips curved into a mocking pout as a long finger replaced the withdrawing tendrils of power inside you with a sharp, deliberate thrust. You whimpered softly, your eyes drifting to the ceiling as if seeking an escape from Sylus’s touch. The more you tried to distance yourself, the wider his grin became, punctuated by a low chuckle. “Where’s that bratty attitude now, sweetie? If I didn’t know better, I’d say those pretty tears of yours were laced with regret.” Summoning that usual fiery spirit of yours, irritation bubbled to the surface, and you met his gaze with sharp, defiant eyes. “Stop being a jerk, Sylus! Let them go, and get the hell off me!” You punctuated your demand by struggling against the force holding you down, only to be met with a cocked silver eyebrow and a deep, rumbling laugh. “There she is,” he murmured.

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled you closer, positioning your feet at the edge of the pool table. Tendrils of smoke spread your legs wide, exposing you completely. He slipped another finger inside you, maintaining a steady, rough rhythm, driving you to distraction as he leaned over you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue swept past your teeth and you responded instantly, your body arching into him. The heat of his kiss consumed you for far longer than you cared to admit, and the smirk stretching his lips at your swollen, breathless state only fueled your conflicted feelings.

Despite Sylus’s  behavior, the undeniable pull of attraction lay heavy, intertwining with the remnants of disgust. But were you truly repulsed by his behavior? You kept trying to convince yourself that you were, but your body gradually rebelled against your mind, the rising tide of arousal threatening to eclipse the fear coiling in your belly. When Sylus’s slick hand trailed from your core to wrap around your around your throat, his leather-clad knee pressing harshly against you, a groan of reluctant pleasure slipped from your lips. A fierce blush spread across your face at your body’s undeniable reaction, and something almost tender flickered in his eyes.

His knee pressed against you harder, the supple leather gliding effortlessly through your slick heat. “Don’t fight it, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating. “Embrace the thrill that quickens your pulse when fear courses through you. How could something that makes this perfect cunt so wet be shameful?” His breath, warm and tantalizing, ghosted over your ear, his lips trailing a feather-light path along your jaw and down your neck. Your hips moved of their own accord, seeking the friction that both tormented and promised to satisfy the aching need building within. Each word, each touch, each calculated grind of his knee against your core sent tremors cascading through your body, awakening a tremble that had nothing to do with fear. “That’s it,” he murmured, as his hand cradled the back of your neck, drawing you in for a fervent, chaotic kiss. He watched with a twisted delight as your eyes fluttered closed, fear gradually succumbing to ecstasy, his name escaping against your lips in breathless whisper.

You didn’t see him reach behind, a wicked grin spreading as his fingers found the cool metal of his gun. The moment its icy surface brushed against your cheek, trailing along your jaw, dread rushed back into your eyes, locking onto Sylus’s with a horrifying clarity. “Normally, I’d let my body speak for me,” he sneered, hinting at his displeasure, the tip of the gun nudging your lips apart before sliding in deeply. He watched you choke and writhe around the steel intruder, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes like a predator savoring its catch, before he pulled it out, leaving a terrible taste behind. “But this calls for a different lesson. Resist, and it’s punishment. Relinquish control, embrace the sensations, and you might discover a pleasure unlike any before.” You leaned in closer, capturing his lip with your teeth, a fierce look in your eyes as you murmured, “Screw you, asshole.” His deep, rumbling laughter only heightened the thrill running through you. Your heart raced as he traced the gun over your breast, barely grazing your nipple in maddening circles, increasing the pressure each time. Involuntarily, your body arched toward him, before you pulled back with a glare, hissing, “Real pleasure? That’d be you gone from my life.” Lies. Regret hit you hard when hurt flickered in Sylus’s gaze, only to be replaced by something more dangerous than before. The gun slid lower, chilling your skin as it grazed your sensitive clit.

His touch intensified, his kisses devouring you as the gun created filthy sounds, making you almost forget the audience to your turmoil. The sudden gunshot shattered that illusion. Sylus’s lips remained on yours as he quickly shifted, the gun firing point-blank at the man closest to you. The shock of the violence gripped the room; Sylus’s unwavering gaze remained on you as the second shot punctuated the silence, the man’s throat granting a grotesque finale to the chaos.

The air in the room was thick with tension, the silence only broken by the ragged breath of one man who began to sob openly. Your eyes darted to Sylus, disbelief blazing in your gaze. “What, kitten?" he drawled, noticing your reaction. ‘I warned them. Besides, you’re not the first woman they’ve tried to harm." With a casual indifference, he turned to the trembling men, his gun poised and ready. “Tell us, gentlemen, how many women have you assaulted at this bar alone? Speak up, or you’re next,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. The man with tears streaming down his cheeks stammered, "I don't know, t-too many to count…” Disgust twisted Sylus’s eyes, and in a heartbeat, three more shots rang out in rapid succession. Before you could fully register what had happened, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding.

Your eyes involuntarily flickered to the gore painted across the walls, men now lifeless around you. Conflicting emotions churned within you—revulsion, terror, anger—but what overpowered them all was an intense arousal. From the moment Sylus fired that first shot, desire kindled inside you, undeniable and embarrassing in its intensity. This wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed him dispatch someone. You often accompanied him on his dark dealings; becoming almost numb to the violence. The first time you saw him kill, with his boot pressing down on a victim and eyes alight with thrill, it stirred something within you. And it continued; an unsettling satisfaction creeped into you each time. You often imagined Sylus’s face, his intense gaze as his prey’s life faded, fueling your fantasies as he claimed you. The darkness of it all only further fueled your desire, binding you closer to the danger that Sylus embodied.

You had never confessed what those moments truly stirred within you, but he had swiftly picked up on your heightened arousal after a kill. On those nights, you’d leap into his arms almost as soon as you both returned home, driven by an fervent intensity in your lovemaking. Yet, it wasn’t until he witnessed the unmistakable longing etched across your features as the shots echoed through the air that his suspicions turned into certainty. Your eyes, locked onto his, brimmed with raw desire. Despite the cold mocking tone in his voice, a new undertone of seriousness weaved through as he murmured into your ear, “Now you don’t even have to feel guilty about your role in their demise, sweetie. Their brazen idiocy in laying hands on you was just the prelude—I’ve had Mephisto watching them for months. Their fate was sealed; I recently discovered their involvement in the disappearances of multiple women and a string of assaults across the N109 Zone. They’re merely the tip of a larger conspiracy, and while I’m still unraveling it, those five are now out of the equation.” Your eyes searched his, the intense crimson gaze burning right through you. Gradually, the invisible force he’d been using to pin you down receded, dissipating into the air until you felt it’s absence. Instantly, your fingers laced in his hair, tugging harshly, drawing a deep groan that you eagerly swallowed as you devoured him completely.

Satisfaction gleamed in your eyes  as you took in the sight of his swollen, glistening lips, and you teasingly pulled the bottom one into your mouth with a playful grin. Sylus pulled back momentarily, his gaze fixed on you as the gun teased your entrance, gliding through your folds. He coated your skin in your arousal, leaving your inner thighs shimmering with sticky wetness, drawing an appreciative hum from him as beheld the sight. “That feels really good,” you murmured with a dreamy sigh, your hips moving instinctively, drawn to the chilling touch. “I know, kitten, and I’ve got something even better…” Sylus purred. As the barrel of the gun slowly  pressed into you, the intense, forbidden pleasure gripping you.

Sylus fought against his own urges, resisting the temptation to replace the weapon with his cock. He relished the transformation in you; the thrill of your fear had been intoxicating, but the raw, unfiltered bliss of your pleasure touched something deeper within him. With the gun deep inside you, he reached for the knife in his pocket, flicking it open with practiced ease. His eyes darkened, a commanding presence filling the space between you. He braced himself above you, one hand anchored on the felt. When the knife's edge began its delicate dance across your skin, your body responded immediately, arching towards the sensation. But Sylus withdrew the blade, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “Better keep still, kitten. Wouldn’t want my hand to slip,” he teased. You giggled breathlessly, embracing the return of his commanding tone. The knife continued its journey, barely grazing your skin, coaxing small beads of red that Sylus eagerly licked away. Each touch felt wrong in so many ways, yet left you utterly intoxicated with desire. The blade paused over your heart, carving something larger and far more intricate into your skin. You watched, bewildered, as Sylus worked with focused satisfaction. When he finally leaned back, admiring his creation, disbelief filled you.

You glanced down at your chest, eyes widening as you recognized the “art.” “You have got to be kidding me, Sylus.,” you said, incredulity threading your voice. His grin widened, a low, amused laugh escaping him. “Now, when a man gets a look at these perfect tits, he’ll know exactly who you belong to, and we can avoid another mess like this,” he motioned to the dead men on the floor. His cocky tone grated on your nerves, but the sight of his name etched onto your chest, complete with a tiny crow, sent a surge of raw heat through you. “Freaking ridiculous,” you muttered, your head falling back with a resigned sigh. Sylus chuckled,  tucking the knife away as his hand returned to the gun. With precise, steady movements, he pumped into you, savoring the sweet sounds of pleasure escaping your lips, all while his eyes shifted between where your body met the gun—now slick with your arousal—and your face, filled with a mix of hunger, excitement, and deep adoration.

“What pretty sounds my gun pulls from you, sweetie,” he purred, watching as you whimpered softly, tears of ecstasy brimming in your eyes. You reached for your clit, rubbing it slowly as you locked gazes with Sylus, each movement deliberate and tantalizing. His teeth grazed his lip as a soft groan escaped him, mesmerized by the agonizingly slow curl of your fingers. You pressed yourself against the gun, urging it deeper inside you, gasping as the trigger guard breached you, sending a shiver down your spine as the warming metal filled you completely. Sylus let out a quiet curse as you took control, riding his gun with unabashed abandon in search of your pleasure.

His hand gripped your breast as he observed the gun sliding in and out, a primal urge stirring within him at the sight. “Good girl, using my gun like a little slut. You’re so damn perfect for me,” he growled, capturing your face in his large hand and squeezing your cheeks, a flicker of anger returning to his gaze. “We can keep playing this little game—I do enjoy how well you fuck once it’s over—but pull another stunt like tonight, and I can assure you, it won’t end well, kitten.” Your eyes widened as the seriousness of his tone sank in. You knew you had crossed a line tonight, causing him real hurt by your actions; something evident in his reaction. So you nodded softly, reaching for his face as you drew him in for a tender kiss. Your lips formed a seductive pout as you spoke softly, “I understand I’ve been a bad girl, Sy. I deserve to be punished.” Sylus cursed under his breath, swiftly freeing his cock as it replaced the gun inside you with one forceful thrust. He huffed heavily beside your ear as he bottomed out, his body tensing slightly as he allowed your tightness to accommodate his size—much larger than the gun that had stretched you first.

The sensation of his cock filling you so completely was the most incredible thing you had experienced all night—perhaps even in all your life. However, your pout returned as you whined, “I wanted to cum on the gun.” Sylus let out a deep, genuine laugh, thrusting into your core with an unrelenting pace as you squirmed beneath him. “Too bad, kitten, because you’re going to cum all over my cock like a good little pet. Think of it as part of your penance," he murmured, cradling your head and pulling you closer, his tongue passionately dancing with yours. You gazed at him as he kissed you, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the silver hair falling in his eyes, and the look of pure bliss on his face—all for you. Just looking at how perfect he was made your orgasm draw near rapidly.

The gun once more came into play as Sylus pulled back slightly, using the metal to tease your clit. He continued tenderly cradling your head, mouths still locked in a fervent embrace as he moved within you. He brought your forehead to his as he felt your walls clench around his cock, pulsating gently. His voice turned husky as he said, “Gonna fill you up, kitten. I need to claim you completely tonight.” His words and the raw, primal tone of his voice heightened the pleasure within you. As he drew you as close as possible, slowing his hips before releasing deep inside you, his warm essence filling you entirely, your pleasure surged and erupted in intense waves, flooding your body with ecstasy unlike any you had experienced.

Sylus held you close until his heart beat steadied, while his cock softened inside you. With a playful grin, he rolled beneath you, wrapping you in a warm embrace and placing a gentle kiss to your head. “I have so much more to show you,” he teased softly, his fingers combing through your hair. You chuckled, feeling a sense of comfort as you nestled against him. “Are Luke and Kieran coming to help us sort out this mess?” you asked hopefully. Sylus nodded with a contented sigh, his earlier tension now melted into a serene calm. “I’ve sent Mephisto to bring them over; they won’t be long." Hearing the happiness in his voice, you felt at ease; a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you met his gentle smile, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender, lingering kiss. “Perfect,” you murmured, your voice holding a note of anticipation. “Let’s wrap this up quickly… because I can’t wait to see what you have to show me.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part three

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; after beckendorf does some research with silena, luke finally knows how to ask you out (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2642

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking

➻ so i immediately got hit with a ton of uni work lols (so mean for first week??) so this took a little longer than expected sorries!!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

While you were being tormented by the two boys Camp Half-Blood (or maybe your mom?) kept sending your way, Charles was following Silena around like a lost puppy, noting down whatever she could find about you in your limited personal space in the Aphrodite cabin. After several minutes of nothing promising, he was starting to feel hopeless.

“She’s not a…” Beckendorf trailed off, looking for more delicate phrasing.

“Girl in Red fan? No. I found a picture of Heath Ledger under her bunk once so I’m pretty sure she’s not harbouring any queer feelings.”

“So that’s the kind of guy she likes? Pretty guys?”

“I don’t know,” Silena said impetuously, “All I’ve ever heard her say is that she’d die before dating a guy that smokes.” Beckendorf cringed. That was an issue. Silena continued mindlessly, digging through your drawers and belongings. She pulled out your reading list, planner and a sticky note of things you were going to do when you left after summer. Finally, Silena let out a devious giggle as she dug through your top drawer. She didn’t let Beckendorf wonder for long, as she pulled out a pretty pair of lacy black underwear.

It wasn’t the most scandalous piece of lingerie sitting in that cabin — not by far, but Beckendorf still blushed like the teenage boy he was, almost too afraid to look at the scrap of fabric.

“And, uh, what does that tell us?” He asked, eyes anywhere but the cloth.

“She wants to have sex someday, that’s what,” She said it as if it were obvious, and Beckendorf wished a hole would open up and swallow him down. He really didn’t want to be talking about your sexual desire right now.

“She might just like the colour?” He mumbled, hand running over his hair in an effort to ground him.

“You don’t buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it.” Beckendorf felt kind of guilty, he figured he probably wasn’t who you had in mind when buying black lingerie, and it was starting to feel like a serious invasion of privacy. That was only heightened when Silena pointedly avoided telling him which area was hers, saying it was ‘private’. He rationalised his actions by praying to the Gods the plan would work and everyone would get a happy ever after.

Still, Percy and Beckendorf took this research to Luke in his semi-secret spot behind the training arena, where he could drink and smoke without being worried about being caught by the younger kids or Chiron. He didn’t look exactly happy to see them, but Beckendorf thought he might just be warming up to them.

“So, what’ve you got for me?” He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Insights into a very complicated girl,” Percy said, dislike of you obvious.

“Just one question,” Beckendorf asked “Should you be drinking if you don’t have a liver?” One of his new brothers had told him the rumour that Luke had sold his liver on the black market during his quest for a pack of cigarettes and a ticket back to camp.

“She hates smokers!” Percy interrupted, hopefully before Luke could process what Beckendorf had said, and very successfully redirected his focus as Beckendorf grabbed the lit cigarette out of his hand, snuffing it out on the dirt.

“So I’m a… non-smoker now?” Luke spat the words, sounding almost disgusted with himself.

“Just for now,” Beckendorf assured him. “And one more problem — Silena said that she likes ‘pretty guys’.” A tense silence fell upon them and Charles wished that sometimes he would think before he spoke. Luke’s gaze on him was heavy and intimidating, and if Percy wasn’t there with him Beckendorf probably would have cowered and escaped.

“Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?” Luke asked, and if he had to say, Beckendorf thought his attitude right now definitely wasn’t helping his case. He and Percy shared a quick look before reassuring Luke that he absolutely was a pretty guy, they just had limited experience in deciding those labels. Satisfied, Luke glanced at the list Beckendorf handed him of all of your interests and engagements. He frowned, and both the younger boys exchanged uneasy eye contact.

“So what, I’m supposed to buy her noodles and books and sit around listening to some shitty girl power band?” He asked, dread and boredom evident in his eyes.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favourite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Beckendorf provided, disheartened by the quick shake of Luke’s head.

“I cannot be seen at Club Skunk.”

“But she’s gonna be there! She’s got tickets!” He protested, and Percy put a subtle hand on his arm.

“Dude, everyone you know is here. No one’s gonna see you at Club Skunk and think you’re less of a man or whatever. I’ll tell everyone you’re off in the woods smoking weed or something.” Luke looked at them for a long moment, seemingly considering the offer. Finally he agreed, and Beckendorf thought it may have just been to get them to go away, but he was happy enough.

Luke, having gotten over the humiliation it would be to go to Club Skunk, was more than interested at the new piece of information he’d just learned. He thought he was the only one who snuck out of camp, and he wondered how often you did it. Reasonably frequently, he guessed, since you were going to all the trouble to see a band that probably played around the state constantly. You just kept on surprising him, and though it was all a bit of an effort on his part, he had started to enjoy getting to know the parts of you that you kept hidden behind the icy exterior.

You, on the other hand, were getting really weirded out. You might’ve just been paranoid, but you were sure that the new Hephaestus kid who was friends with Percy kept staring at you. Even Percy glanced at you more than once during dinner, something you didn’t think had ever happened before — and you were not looking for attention from the camp’s golden boy, no matter how many times he’d probably saved your life by extension of his quests. Those two, coupled with Luke, whose attentions had inexplicably been focused on you for the last week, made you feel a bit like an animal on display; violently uncomfortable. As you left the meal you shot Beckendorf a nasty glare, somewhat satisfied when he jumped and averted his eyes. You shook your head in a physical attempt to clear the burdens of your thoughts. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry about any of the campers or the stupidity that flowed around the grounds.

About twenty minutes after the campfire started and the rest of the camp were safely together, you began the trek up to the Hamptons — the closest city with a venue. You waited anxiously for the bus to pick you up outside the camp lines, looking over your shoulder to ensure no one had caught you. If your adventures got around camp then Silena would absolutely tell your father as payback for being the reason she can’t date, and that was a whole new set of issues you really didn’t care to deal with. Luke, standing in the shadows watching, felt almost bad for spying on you. Almost.

You could feel your shoulders relax as you got further and further away from camp, the judgement and expectations of people you didn’t even like far behind you for the night. You’d been looking forward to this show since you got tickets with your friends during the school term, and you were determined to make it worth the pain of summer. And it really, really was. Your whole friend group had made it, making it a long awaited reunion, and the band was one you’d been following for years. You danced with all your energy, gleefully shouting lyrics and laughing loudly when you got them terribly wrong.

Luke watched this from his seat at the bar, entranced in your private bubble amongst the chaos. You were smiling — a rare sight at all at camp — but this was one he didn’t think he’d ever seen in all his years of knowing you. It wasn’t filled with pride like the ones you tried to conceal when you got a new record on the climbing wall or you finally beat Clarisse in a training match, nor was it the satisfied smirk you had when you put an egotistical camper in their place or beat up jerks like Ethan. Your smile was alight with joy; relaxed and wholehearted happiness that spread through the room and seemed infectious to anyone who passed you.

It was at that moment that Luke truly understood how you were a daughter of Aphrodite. The way the lights reflected off your hair and your eyes, the easy way you moved your body to the music, everything about you suddenly seemed perfect, and he wondered how he’d never noticed it before. Your appearance hadn’t changed drastically; your hair was loose instead of the practical up-do needed for camp, you wore a tight fitted crop top instead of the camp shirt and you might’ve had some glitter smeared around your eyes. All inconspicuous, ordinary things, yet you seemed like a brand new person. Luke decided he liked this version of you, and if this whole plan failed, at least he’d gotten a glimpse into your real world and behind the facade you hid with at camp.

He was ripped from his thoughts when he saw you make a drinking gesture to your friend, heading towards him unwittingly. He turned in his seat hurriedly, trying to act cool and unaware. You spotted him almost immediately, persona switching up as disgust crept back under your skin.

“If you’re going to ask me out again, could you just get it over with now so I can get back to enjoying my night?” You sighed, grabbing the water bottles from the bartender.

“Would you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me.” Luke gestured around, hoping his acting chops were as good as he needed. You ignored it either way.

“You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke,” You noted, curiosity getting the better of you.

“I quit. Apparently they’re bad for you.” You raised an eyebrow, almost too surprised to come up with a quip.

“You did?” You hated how genuine it sounded and turned to go, sensing him get up to follow you.

“You know, I was watching you out there before,” He yelled over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy.” In possibly the worst timing in history, the song ended and the entire club was treated to Luke’s compliment. You both flushed red, and you were unable to contain a small giggle — wildly uncharacteristic for you. Luke, to his credit, only had a mildly sheepish grin on his face, and continued to follow you across the dance floor. “Come to the Apollo party with me.” You couldn’t believe him! Here you were, miles from camp and he was still asking you out. Though, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite as infuriating as you originally thought.

“You never give up, do you?” You gave a good natured sigh, ducking under someone’s arm to get to your friends.

“Was that a yes?”

“No.”

“Was it a no?”

“No!” You let out another laugh which floated over the crowd and straight to Luke. He couldn’t contain his own grin.

“I’ll pick you up at 9:30!” He yelled back. You gave no indication of having heard him apart from a momentary glance, and he couldn’t tell if the smile was directed at him or just a byproduct of your situation. He took it either way.

Having gone to the effort of sneaking away from camp, Luke decided to stay for the remainder of the concert and grudgingly decided the band wasn’t that bad. Not his style, sure, but he could kind of see why you liked them. Besides, these drinks were easier to get than the contraband ones he had to smuggle into camp.

Tired from a night on your feet dancing and feeling your pleasant buzz slipping away, you were less than charmed seeing Luke waiting for your bus. It made sense, obviously you were going the same place, but you didn’t want him to ruin your great night by pestering you about a date.

“What are you doing here?” You asked bluntly, eagerly sitting on the misshapen little bench.

“Getting home?” He trailed off, unsure of what you were looking for. “Besides, we’re a long way from camp and it’s late. Didn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” You hated that you thought it was sweet.

“Do you not think I can take care of myself?” You picked a fight instead, unwilling to be genuine with him. Luke wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it.

“I have complete faith in you,” He laughed, “I’m making sure you don’t kill whoever bothers you.” You let out a snort of a laugh accidentally. You tried to recover,

“It’ll be you if you’re not careful.” Somehow Luke didn’t believe you.

Surprisingly, the trip was almost pleasant. Luke had already gotten what he wanted from the night and the next phase of his plan was shaping up, so he knew bringing up your impending date would only sour your mood. Instead, when he plonked himself down in the seat next to you on the bus, you talked about mundane, silly things. He asked about the friends you were with and let you talk about your life in New York, waving you off when you started to feel guilty since he was at camp all year.

“There’s this really cool record store, we go there all the time. They have this huge bulletin board on one wall where these tiny little bands put up posters for random gigs with, like, fifty people there — it’s so sick, like the 90s I guess. Maybe —” You cut yourself off but Luke knew where you were going. Maybe I could show you. You would deny it if he brought it up, but he couldn’t contain his smile either way.

You were surprised that you had so much to talk about, briefly wondering why you’d never been friends with him before, but the conversation continued all the way to the camp border, where you both knew the risk of sneaking back in meant your night together was over. Once you got into camp there’d be people all around; campers should be in bed but counsellors often patrolled for a while, and many of the non-demigod folks around camp could be up and about well into the early hours of the morning.

“So, um, I’ll see you around?” His sudden shyness was unexpectedly charming, and you found yourself giving Luke a smile — a real one that made his heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Bye, Luke.” You held eye contact for a fraction longer than necessary before disappearing into the shadows. Luke watched you go, not quite starstruck but close to it. A rustle of the trees behind him spurred him into action, but the image of you on the dance floor played on repeat behind his eyes as he lay in his bunk.

[stepinthyme]

The Red Means I Love You

Alice Wu Gulliver x Necromancer!Reader

Your girlfriend told you she'd be gone to finish some buisness, and you feel her death happen. You refuse to let her go.

Word Count: 1k

Content: second person, no use of Y/N, ressurection, kissing, fluff, blood and gore, Alice is naked but that is not the focus here. Reader is refered to as "girlfriend" at one point, but otherwise this could be read as gender neutral

A/N: If no one will feed me, I will feed MYSELF. I may cross post this to ao3 in the morning, but I needed to get this out of my head while it was all still fresh. This is very heavily inspired by Marcille's ressurection of Falin from Dungeon Meshi, but fuck it, if Billy's allowed to ressurect Tommy by putting his soul into another kid's dead body, then theres gotta be at least one other person able to do necromancy, and why not do lesbianism. Alice is probably a little ooc but I did this in like an hour, cut me some slack.

Today, running the butcher’s was very slow, predictable for the sleepy little metropolitan area of Eastview and Westview. It was run of the mill and average, what everyone in the town basically forced it to be ever since the scarlet witch scared half the people within a three mile radius.

You were just finishing the last of closing procedures and headed into your apartment above the shop, making a quick dinner and settling in for a simple night watching tv when you could feel it. The moment Alice's life was snuffed out. No, more like drained out of her, in a drawn out action. She had told you she was just going to finish some family related business, that she'd be back before the night was over. She'd be back before you knew it. Kissed you on the cheek and everything like she did when she'd head off to work.

Before you had even really processed anything else, you were already setting up the ritual, drawing out a sigil with chalk, placing candles in the appropriate places, scouring your cabinets for all the assorted offerings needed.

You and Alice had met because you were outcast witches. She had distanced herself from the craft after the death of her mother. And you were known as the disgrace of all green witchcraft. You were an odd duo, but you were happy so long as you were together. She had asked you a few times how you had earned your title, and you always laughed it off.

She was going to finally learn why you were called that very quickly.

You were grateful for your day job as a butcher, as you used magic to carry large cuts of cow and lamb, bones and all from the commerical freezer to the living room. plopping them haphazardly onto the sigil. It wasn't her body, but it would do in a pinch. You would deal with any consequences later. You lit the candles and got onto your knees, placing your hands on the sigil as you began the incantation you had done at least a dozen times. Your voice almost seemed to echo through the room as forbidden magics are called upon.

In a basement a couple miles away, death reaches out for a soul, only to see her violently yanked away from her grasp, disappearing from sight.

You continue to shout as the meat and bone fuse together, almost melting as it reformed itself into a human shape, features slowly refining itself to resemble the soul now bound to it. The last touches are added as your girlfriend, albeit covered in blood and naked, now lies in the middle of the circle. You nearly collapse, but you stare anxiously, hoping, praying, that it worked.

Alice's eyes snap open as she bolts upright, gasping for air. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding as the tears finally roll down your face and pull her into a tight hug.

“Alice! Alice, I thought I lost you, I..”

You continue to squeeze her, kissing various spots on her face, not caring about the copper taste of the blood. Alice seemed to be finally coming out of shellshock as her hands found their way to tangle in your hair. Her eyes met yours.

“Is… is this real? Am I really here?”

“Yes Alice, you’re really here, I promise. You're here. I'm here.”

Without much warning, you were pulled in for a deep kiss. If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought she hadn't seen you in months with how desperate it was. Your tongues danced with no clear rhythm as you tried to get enough of each other, only stopping when you both needed air. Alice let out a huffy laugh of disbelief.

“How did you… how did you even do this? I was dead. I saw death.”

You glance away, picking at some of the melted wax on one of the candles, suddenly conscious of what you had done, how much of an overreach it might have been.

“It's. A long story, trust me. I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore after this, I just-” Alice gently takes your hands in hers, rubbing circles with her thumbs.

“Hey, hey. It's okay. Look at me?” You meet her gaze once more, her warm eyes looking softly at you.

“It's okay. What happened was weird, yes. But I think quite literally breaking the laws of life and death is maybe the most romantic thing a girlfriend has done for me. Just don't make a habit of it, okay?” You can't help but laugh at that.

“Only if you don't make a habit of it. What even happened?” Alice paused at that.

“It’s also a long story. I’ll tell you after I get cleaned up. You should probably too, considering” she gestures to your now bloodsoaked clothes, and you nod.

“I’ll take care of the cleaning in here while you shower, and I'll meet you in the bedroom later after I get washed up. If you're still awake by then, we can exchange stories. Otherwise that can wait till morning. Alright?” She nods, placing one last kiss to your forehead before attempting to get up and then immediately falling over. You stand up, offering a hand to her.

“Need help?” She takes it, and you help pull her up, resulting in a much more successful attempt to stand than the last one.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one protecting you.” You can't help but giggle at the remark.

“Everyone needs help once and a while. The usual doting can wait for later.”

You walk with her to the bathroom to make sure she doesn't fall again before even making it to the tub, before heading back to dig through the supply closet. You pull out the cleaning supplies and head back to the living room area, and the now giant stain of blood and chalk on your floor. Necromancy is a bitch, but it's all worth it now that you have Alice back with you. Whatever happens next, the two of you can sort it out together.

[hvman-scvm]

Hear me out,,, snuffed ! 141 x snuff filmmaker ! Reader.

Massive CW 4 general things you'd expect of a snuff film. Dark content ahead. (No r//pe or s/a) Maybe OOC ?

Price is the first one you planned 2 get rid of; he'd bring you less money anyways considering he's older than most of yr other victims. But man, was he fun. He put up one hell of a fight, cursing and fighting against the restraints.

It made you laugh.

You didn't bother too much with him, knowing tht the film you'll make out of him won't b as high demand as yr other ones. But you still made sure 2 have yr fun. You knew he was a captain, and the superiority you felt after you finally caught him and bound him 2 the metal chair was unmatched.

The tape was a mere 22 minutes 37 seconds of content; after a while he just.. stopped fighting back. He was clearly exhausted, and he knew it wld result in nothing but more of yr mean laughter. It was the shortest tape you've evr made. No fun in it if yr victim isn't giving you reactions.

So you quickly put an end to his life and painted the walls with his brain matter.

Then there was Soap, he was even more fun than his beloved captain. W his constant cursing at you laced in a thick Scottish accent, and his pretty blue eyes glaring daggers at the camera tht you pointed 2wards him B4 setting it on its stand, grabbing his face and making sure he looks directly 2wards it.

But soon his demeanor began 2 break. It may have taken a few hours of torture, but it was so worth it.

He begun crying freely at the pain, he's faced a lot of it in his career; bullet wounds, stab wounds, blunt force- if you can name it, he's experienced it at least once. But none of it compares 2 this, 2 the pain you've been inflicting on him the past few hours.

A day of on-off torture was all it took 4 you 2 get bored. He was getting weak n tired, slipping in an out of consciousness. He simply wasn't fun anymore.

So his life was ended w a slash 2 the throat. His vacant eyes staring blankly at the still running camera.

And Ghost, oh boy. He barely reacted, barely flinching when you cut his mask w yr knife n ripped it off his face. He was quite the looker, you can't lie. He barely reacted 2 yr torture; refusing 2 give you the satisfaction. But you were determined, n you weren't gna stop until you hear a sob.

All tht came frm him were grunts and hisses, no matter what kind of torture you inflicted on his big, scarred body. He just wanted this 2 b over w, hoping you'd get bored n end his life so tht he doesn't have 2 endure any of his pain anymore. Both the pain you were causing and the pain tht came w being Simon Riley.

But after 7 hours, after you took a break n he barely regained consciousness, you finally got what you want. You had slammed down the hammer in2 his thigh, determined 2 break the one bones thts hardest 2 break. Thts when he finally yelped in pain. More noises kept spilling out of his throat as you slammed the hammer over n over again against his thigh in hopes of breaking his femur.

You had kept him 4 a week, made 3 tapes of him, and currently filming his 4th- and last- one. You had used the same gammer you attempted 2 break his femur w, n bashed his head in until it was mush.

Then there was yr little snuff prince, as you had lovingly nicknamed him, Gaz. He refused 2 look at you, nor the camera. Just kept his head down the whole time. His eyes were so pretty as you lifted his head 2 look at you. What you weren't expecting, however, was 4 him 2 spit right on yr face.

You loved it. Loved his reactions. Loved how pretty he was.

You knew he was going 2 help you make a high demand film. How cld any1 resist seeing a man as pretty as him get tortured within an inch of his life ?

You made multiple films of him, he was yr only victim tht lasted this long. But good things must come 2 an end.

His fate was hanging. He was too weak 2 fight you as you put the noose arnd his neck. You adored the coughing n gasping tht left him as he was lifted in the air, his legs kicking blindly B4 tensing and eventually going limp. You watched w glee as the life slowly left his eyes, n made sure the camera was close enough 2 pick up on tht.

[theealbatross]

love is the most twisted curse of all (shadow trio headcannon)

Plot | How the Shadow Trio expresses their love and the price they willingly pay for it.

Tags: |dark-ish, unhealthy friendships/relationships, platonic (or not depends on your interpretation), codependency, manipulation, aged up, implied crimes, implied murder, slytherins can't love normally, implied seb x mc if u squint, traumatized!slytherins can't accept healthy love, seb and mc are dark wizards, auror!sebastian, my opinion only, might be ooc

[A/N: Photos (except two) are not mine! This is something short I wrote because i can't get it out of my head lol]

Ominis Gaunt: The Heir

. Ominis loves by doing what is necessary.

. A perfect Slytherin through and through, Ominis (whether he is aware or not) lives the closest truth to the Slytherin motto. Anything that is 'his' is protected at any and all cost.

. There is no heaven high enough he won't reach or a hell low enough that he won't crawl in if it meant saving the people dearest to him.

. Like the perfect slytherin heir Ominis is akin to a snake, his morality slithering and bending to fit his narrative. His bones creak, skin stretching as he wraps himself around his loved ones until they are untouchable.

. He is aware of his flaws but he is not so honorable to fix it. He knows the real world -- the darker side of the wizarding world's high society, one that his companions aren't too familiar with -- and he will move hell and high water to protect them from it in the shadows.

. Dark Spells being used a bit too closely in where Sebastian is stationed? It must be those damned dark wizards, Minister. Isn't Auror Sallow so gallant in facing those pests?

. Poacher corpses leading a trail to you? Surely, such stains of the wizarding world wouldn't be missed. The Hero of Hogwarts did us all a favor, it would be a shame to condemn such heroics.

. Suspicious rumors following his friends? Not while he was at the top of high society, manipulating reputations and snuffing out nonbelievers. Any tongue that rises against them will be cut.

. He is a Gaunt, and as much as he loathes the dark history behind his name -- he knows how to wield its power. He is the only one who can properly wield it and it is a sword he is willing to use -- if necessary.

Sebastian Sallow: The Prodigy

. Sebastian loves by monopolizing.

. As a boy who lost too much at such a young age, his entire world surrounds the few people he considers his own. And if you are one of his people know his whole world will surround you.

. He has to have access and knowledge of his loved ones at all times. In-depth, illegal, background checks on all people his pretty witch associates herself with? Fair game, it's for your safety, darling. Charmed pieces of jewelry that lets him know of your location at all times? Christmas and birthday gifts from him to you, wear it at all times or he'll charm it so it never gets removed. A ring that will transport Ominis to his side at the first sign of danger? Ominis you are far too important a person to put your life on mere Aurors hands, I'll handle it.

. Normal people would be put off but after all the things the three of you have been through, putting your lives and safety in Sebastian's hands is the best course of action. It is for your own good, after all.

. Sebastian is fully aware he has unfortunately been cursed with having brilliant friends with bounties in their heads in the underworld. Therefore, the best course of action would be the one to rule it.

. Living a double life as the honorable Head Auror and a dark wizard was not for the weak but Sebastian has always been used to compartmentalizing different faces for different facets of his life. A brilliant student, a delinquent, a doting brother, a traitor, a partner in crime, a merciless murderer. He'll wear any and all masks and become the monster he is required to be if it meant he got to keep you.

. Sebastian doesn't have a lot of people he loves so he will not ask for forgiveness in how he protects those that is willing to be loved by him. They're his -- his to love, his to protect, his to consume.

. And he'll let all the curses and corpses pile up into a mountain of sins before he'll lose anyone ever again.

MC: The Hero

. She loves through devotion.

. Once you consider them as a friend they can do no wrong in your eyes and if they do commit mistakes you will dig the deepest pit to bury it in with your own bare hands.

. Being told you were special, you were different, you were powerful at a very early age fractured your reality. The world is your oyster, it will be whatever you deem it to become.

. For what is power if you can't even help those you love the most?

. Do you want me to take care of 'it', Omi? You know I hate it when you strain yourself with politics. Someone tried to take Sebastian to court for excessive violence? Who is it? Are you going to handle it or should I? Why can't they just let him be?

. You will follow them blindly at whatever corner of the earth they are calling from. Anything that has to do with them is a priority of the highest order as far as you are concerned-- so much so that people have to go to Ominis and Sebastian first to convince them to convince you to help.

.There is no such thing as a good or bad anymore -- you will stand on whatever side they are on, and the rest of the world can decide if they want to stand with you or against you.

. There will be no such thing as a consequence if you had anything to say about it. And you had the final say about everything.

. All will always be well for you and everyone you love. You will make sure of it.

.You are special, after all.

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

[danosrosegarden]

heart for brains - karl heisenberg x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ turbulent feelings, a good mix of fluff and angst, somnophilia, penetrative sex (genitals of reader not specified)}

{word count ♡ ~700}

{author's note ♡ this piece was originally going to be this year's kinktober day five, but i just couldn't wait! i'm new to the resident evil fandom, so if this is horrifyingly ooc or "he would not fucking say that" in any way, please avert your eyes and pretend you saw nothing. enjoy!}

♡ a bizarre flurry of emotions fluttered through your veins each time you looked at him. it was unfamiliar territory, whatever it was you two had going on. you were both navigating without compasses. the thick, sugary-sweet warmth of another body laying in bed next to him was something karl never thought he'd want. the comforting wrap of arms around your shoulders was something you never thought you'd need.

♡ but it was all a far, confusing cry from picturesque. you spent hours at the end of most days trying to piece together the shards of broken glass scattered around the frame.

♡ sometimes you raised your voices. sometimes you went to bed with any gently glowing, good memories snuffed out by the scorching hot anger you felt pulsating through your body. yet still, more times than you'd like to admit, you felt pools of tears glistening like dirty, shameful rivers in your eyes. goddamnit, why did you care like you did? if you were to be dancing this dizzying, aching tango with any other man, you would have ruled a long time ago that he just wasn't worth it. what made heisenberg so fucking special?

♡ the good moments did exist. you thought of them with a skipping heart and soft smile. how deeply those moments moved you. those moments where he'd let you run your nimble fingers through his hair. those moments where you'd let him sew tender kisses onto your neck. you knew it didn't come easy for either of you.

♡ you should understand something crystal clearly: it wasn't that he didn't care for you, too. karl reran the tapes in his head constantly, in fact: your sparkling sunshine smile. your wild, unbridled laugh. the slow, honeyed drone of your quiet singing voice that he secretly listened in on when you thought he was out. he truly didn't want to lose what he had, but it was just easier to push you away when the blackened claws of the lonesome past held a suffocating grip on his heart.

♡ it would be difficult not to think of...certain other moments as well. the moments of desperate grabbing and blazing hot desire. chaotic passion, reckless love. was it actually love? the word grabbed hold of your throat and pushed with might. it was entirely overwhelming, and you preferred not to think of it. emotions make you weak.

♡ sex was best served after marinating in your wrath for awhile after another pointless argument. that's really what they all were...pointless. you couldn't even remember what you were angry at him for as you felt the warm appetite shimmer between your legs.

♡ it crossed your mind every once in awhile, what something slow might be like. something soft and malleable like clay, something where the walls fell down and all those hidden feelings bubbled to the surface and spilled over.

♡ and it happens, one night where you wake in the inky dark of midnight to hear soft sighs spilling from his lips where he laid next to you. you could feel him shifting, could hear the rustle of his hand on the fabric of his trousers.

♡ "you could've woken me up."

♡ you feel his body jump. "didn't know you were awake. sorry." his rasped, half-hearted mumble gives you a chuckle.

♡ your emotions make you weak. you can't seem to bring yourself to care about that when he takes you up on your offer and slips inside of you, hands wrapped around your chest. "back to bed, sweet thing," he whispers.

♡ maybe you were weak. maybe you did crave to let your heart override it all. god, it felt good to let yourself tumble down the silk-soft staircase of unconsciousness as the hot, tingling knot coiled itself tighter and tighter in your gut with each gentle thrust. drowsy with sleep, drunk off the feeling of the mild stretch and warm breath on your neck.

♡ there'd be the days that upset you. sour snapshot memories that you'd look back on with a pit in your stomach. but you love him. you think of the bright days and you're sure of it.

[jesterwriting]

hi hi i saw your requests are open! can i request something fluffy or angsty maybe a little spicy with law, where you tell him that “all i want is you” fem reader or gn reader i don’t mind! thank you🩷

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, jealous!law, you're both kinda tipsy, making out to heartfelt conversation, complimenting law because he needs it, probably ooc

word count: .9k words

note: i dont know why, but this gave me so much trouble to write it was crazy. literally gator wrestled these words in a pile of mud. i got death rolled. but i'm happy with the results and i hope you are too anon <33 thank you so much for the request! :3

playlist: science/visions by chvrches

Law kissed you like you were about to disappear.

Hungry lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone where he nipped and sucked at your sensitive flesh. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him closer. His hands were cold as they slid up your ribcage, you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled from your lips.

Asshole. He wouldn’t think it was very funny if you tickled him mid-makeout. To keep from jamming your hands under his armpits in retribution, you busied yourself by pressing kisses to whatever part of Law your lips could reach. He groaned when you nipped at the shell of his ear, grinding his crotch against yours.

If you knew getting Law jealous would result in something so steamy, you’d do it more often. While you didn’t classify your conversation with that friendly bar patron as flirting, judging by Law’s insistence to mark every inch of skin he could find, he certainly did. You threw your head back and moaned when his teeth met the junction where your neck and shoulder met, soothing the bite with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Jeez, what’s gotten into you,” You managed to say between gasps. “Are you trying to eat me alive?”

He didn’t look up. Not a chuckle, not a glance, not even a smirk. After leaving your throat thoroughly bruised, Law moved onto your chest.

“I’ll get to that later,” He finally answered.

There was something off about Law. He refused to meet your eyes, completely single minded in his quest of turning you into a giant bruise. It wasn’t until his hands cupped your face did you notice that they were trembling. You wasted no time prying Law from your stomach, forcing him to meet your eyes. Whatever you expected, nothing prepared you for the split second glimmer of unease before it was promptly snuffed out by a glare.

“Woah, calm down, Law, you’re acting funny.”

He snorted and sat back on his heels. There was the scent of alcohol on his breath, and while you knew you indulged as well, he wouldn’t come back smelling of it from your lips alone. “Not as funny as that guy at the bar.”

Okay, he was really jealous.

“It wasn’t like that, he was telling me about the history of the town.”

Law rolled his eyes. “You were all over him.” Before the instinctual ‘was not’ was able to leave your mouth, he looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His next words were barely audible, grumbled just under his breath. “You never laugh like that when you’re with me.”

Oh.

This went a little deeper than petty jealousy.

Pulling your shirt down, you sat up to meet Law’s stare. He seemed to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, teeth clenched so tight you could see the tendons in his jaw jump. You patted the space next to you on his bed. “Sit down, we should talk.”

Stubborn as always, Law stayed standing. “I should get going, I have work to get done before morning.”

He turned on his heel, and before he was able to exit the room, your arm shot out to grab him. Law didn’t pull away from you, only let out a heavy sigh as your thumb traced tender circles onto the inside of his wrist.

“All I want is you, you know that, right?” When he didn’t respond, you tugged him closer. Law only budged because he wanted to. No one alive could make him do what he didn’t want to do. So as he slowly made his way to the bed, boots heavy against the floor, and sat down beside you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You took his tattooed hand in your own, gently playing with his fingers. Law still wouldn’t look at you, gaze fixed stubbornly at the far wall. “Come on, you have to know that.”

The silence was deafening. In a desperate attempt to fill it, you nudged Law with a half-hearted smile. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“Not like that.”

That wasn’t good. You trailed your fingers along his arms where they met at his face. Tugging on his chin to manually force him to look at you, you spoke your next words earnestly. “I love you, Law. Not some rando at the bar. Yeah, maybe he made me laugh a little, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you. I love your dry wit. I love your intelligence. I love how you care for everyone on this ship before anything else. You’re a good person and a good doctor, I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

You must have gotten through to him because the tips of his ears were tinged pink. With a relieved smile, you placed a small peck to the corner of his lips. They twitched upwards, though you could tell Law tried to stifle it and keep his displeased expression.

“You can stop now,” He said, face two shades darker than usual.

“Oh, I’m just getting started.”

The rest of the night was spent with you singing Law’s praises that he consistently waved off, pretending like you couldn’t tell he liked it. Every so often, you would place a chaste kiss to the back of his hand or to his cheek, a sharp contrast to the hungry mouth that was on your mere minutes earlier. If Law really wanted you to stop, you would. All he had to do was say it.

Three hours passed with Law in your arms, and not once did the word ‘stop’ leave his lips.

[mischieffae]

Elskhuga { Loki x gn! angst ficlet }

Summary: After thrusted into the storm of battle, Loki and his gang of trustees reach the outskirts of Svartalfheim in order to recuperate and tend to the wounded. His lover included, the Prince must find the strength to not fall into despair.

Pairing: Loki x gn!character ( I wrote this in third person, and kept the gn love interest vague so you can either insert your own oc or read like a reader insert. )

Warnings: Angst, all the feels, blood, wounds, near death experience, pre-established relationship. This might be a tad ooc but listen, I need protective Loki ok?

The soot of Svartalfheim's lands and blood of their enemies stained the company's clothing, a mere reminder of what had previously transpired not too long ago. For days the warriors of Asgard fought mindlessly against the Dark Elves on their domain. The Aesir feared their lust for darkness and disruption to the natural order would become reality. But under Heimdall's watchful eye and by command of Odin, the two princelings and their companions lead Asgard's small army as a tactic of intimidation.

A mere foolish encounter, which they soon later discovered.

Faint breaths and the rustlings of leather echoed in the small cave's mouth, the darkness that dwelled there snuffed out by the fire's red glow. Sif and the Warrior's Three (Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun) huddled around its warmth, occasionally rubbing their hands together as their breaths fogged all around them. Thor, son of Odin, nestled by one of their wounded companions tucked in loose furs. There was a heaviness within the air as he spoke softly towards his left.

"I fear their wounds have worsened overnight, brother."

Loki, son of Laufeyson clenched his jaw from his confession. The wounded who laid before him was a keeper of his heart. Now heavily breathing with a sheen of sweat, but once held such beauty and youth in their face. He shouldn't have brought them here, on this perilous mission but they had insisted on not leaving Loki's side.

The two of them had known each other since childhood, often accompanying one another while Thor rough housed with Sif and the Warriors. There was a long history of adoration, longing, and a feeling of love within the both of them that could never be washed away by the tide of time.

And to have them risk their life in a meaningless show of power ignited a flame within the trickster's chest that he wanted to unleash.

"There must be something...." Venom leaked from his pale lips, his slender hands reaching outward to grasp upon his lover's arms in a tight embrace for comfort. "We cannot just let them die under our command."

The raise in Loki's voice made the warrior's look upward from the fire's glow, hesitance on their faces before he continued.

"Volstagg knew fully well that they were within enemy range! If I had just not turned my back for one second this barbaric group of imbeciles would have noticed the enemy's arrow flying in their direction!"

His voice choked on the last syllable in his rant, tears threatening to fall down his hollow cheeks.

"Now now, do not blame others for your incompetence of witnessing a mere arrow, silvertongue. The fault is not our own", raised Fandral's voice. He knew he had struck a nerve, but they were all on edge seeing their companion fade away on the floor below.

"Enough...", Thor's voice echoed softly against the cave's walls, beginning to feel a coil of tension about ready to explode.

"Is that what you would call it? A mere arrow? Will you repeat your foolish words while standing at their pyre? Or shall you save it before I behead your ill-favored head from your mere shoulders?"

"ENOUGH!" Thunder crackled from outside their retreat, their silence loud as they gathered themselves. Loki knelt beside the wounded companion with a defeated sigh, the fire's crackling the only noise heard until a soft voice spoke.

"We are all weary and worried for our friend. Please, let us not continue the onslaught within our own company." Sif released a short huff with a bent of her head, her eyes glistening with thought. "We must keep trying, perhaps the poison had subsided from Loki's magic. If we keep-"

"There is nothing left to do, lady warrior." Agitation sounded from the trickster's voice, a trembling huff escaping him before bringing his attention back towards his lover's pale features. He lifted a shaking hand to ghost along their soft cheek, pausing a finger on their parted lip. "We will be lucky if they survive the night."

------

Memories of earlier that day flashed in his mind, the sounds of metal in the air as they treaded along Svartalfheim's wasteland. A small band of Asgard's soldiers accompanied them to a deserted inland of open land. A place where they would negotiate and come to terms with some intimidation tactics. Loki's silver tongue, however, would not land its mark.

The Elves thrusted themselves upon the group without any warning, swords clashing against swords with a might of defiance. Many would fall, the stench of blood filling the air as Thor's mighty swings clashed against skull and bone. Sif's sword and shield danced with the enemies weapons, Volstagg's heavy axe not falling too far behind. Fandral and Hogun would soon find their swords claiming many lives with a stain of gore.

Loki would occasionally protect his partner with a finesse of his trickster motions, throwing dagger upon dagger to land their marks. He turned his back against his partner's own, giving trust to the Warrior's as he continued to use Aesir magic to confuse his opponent.

But trust, comes with a cost.

He felt a sudden jolt of the other's body against his back and a sharp cry, his heart clenching in fear as he quickly turned around. They were all unaware of the silent archer on their left, hidden in the shadows behind decaying rock. The arrow had pierced his lover's chest, merely missing their heart as they fell to the ground with a pained groan. The tip of the arrow had been poisoned, their body soon paralyzed from its instant effectiveness.

Loki screamed in pure rage, conjuring himself to appear in front of the attacker with a flicker of emerald cloud. Before the Elf could react, the trickster plunged a dagger within his throat with a vengeful scream, driving that blade deeper and deeper with each forceful thrust of pure hate. He kept the attack, the body before him long gone as it slumped to the dirt below but he continued on. Again, again, his breath releasing in short spurts with tears in his eyes. All sense of control left him as red coated his fingers and arms, specks of it's essence spitting on his angered face.

"Loki!!! Loki enough!!!" Thor quickly ran to his brother's aid, the battle ceased around them as he grasped the other's arm to cease his assault. "Enough, please...enough.."

A pained sob escaped past Loki's lips as he slowed his movements, the dagger continuing to plunge into the body's frame with grotesque noises. It was Thor's hand upon him that brought him back to reality, his eyes widening in realization before dashing towards his partner's side.

They were alive, but barely hanging on the edge. The poison already beginning to pump through their veins. A small smile spread on their lips, hands lifting to graze along the princeling's blood soaked cheek.

"Loki -...." It was all they could muster, the only thing he heard before they fell into darkness.

-------

The shade of green enveloped the cave as Loki continued to release his magic within his lover's chest, the group around him fallen asleep with the gentle sound of enchantment. He couldn't give up, his body begging for slumber but his mind determined to soothe the poison within them. Thor too was still awake, calling to Heimdall to open the Bifrost but to no avail. After many attempts, Odinson returned to their retreat and placed a heavy hand upon his aching shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dear brother. My words do not reach him....I-"

Loki furrowed his brows in concentration, silencing him with a hush of his voice. "I will make sure he hears an earful from me later, but for now, leave me..."

Thor couldn't help but form a sad smile on his face, his fingers gripping a bit before moving away.

He couldn't give up....couldn't stop...

-------

The soft glow of morning's sun hidden behind dark clouds illuminated against stone walls, a gentle shade of green still forming on the trickster's hands against his partner's chest. He had fallen asleep upright, his sorcery never ceasing their purpose even when the mind was resting. The others were still in slumber around a dying fire, the gentle crackling of embers filling his ears.

There was a soft touch upon his hand, fingers brushing along his knuckles in a ghostly manner. His body jolted slightly from the touch, eyes fluttering open before gazing upon a reassuring smile.

They will be ok, they will be ok...

Tagged: @thefairywithboots @oswildin @eleniblue @aiislinnn @thewasandshouldbeking @stilleobjection

I hope it's ok if I tag you guys as well! ♥️ @lokisgoodgirl, @sarahscribbles, @loki-cees-all