#BE THE FIRST TO THE FEAST LET'S CHOKE ON THE PAST AND TAKE TO THE BROKEN SKIES AT LAST

[minyard-05]

[shardminds]

still alive i promise!!! wip wednesday time :)

Lucien pushed the sheet of her hair behind her ear but Feyre couldn’t look at him, couldn’t lift her eyes from the milky skin where her tattoo should be, couldn’t help but tense against the urge to curl her palms to fists. “Despite the performance with Hyburn, you’re still mated, aren’t you."

Not a question.

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[tarithenurse]

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

[yeowangies]

Heavenly

❧

PAIRING: Goku/AFAB!Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: PWP, Explicit Sexual Content, Cunnilingus. WARNINGS: Overstimulation. WORDCOUNT: 903

Summary:

Goku comes home and feasts on you.

Notes:

I wanted to write some pwp to get back on track, since I haven't really been on a good enough mood to write for a while. So have some very self indulgent pwp! Also barely proof read

Gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles might as well fall apart, you moaned breathlessly, completely exhausted at that moment. Your throat was hoarse, whimpers coming out in short, quiet gasps.

Goku had spent literal hours with his mouth in between your legs; you didn’t know exactly how many hours, but it was still daytime when he had come home to you. The mischief in his eyes was the first thing you noticed, followed by his shit eating smile when he told you how hungry he was. You should have known what kind of hunger it was at first sight. 

And you weren’t ungrateful; having a lover who thoroughly enjoyed eating you out was something that only God in all his infinite wisdom could send you. But it had been so long since he’s been kneeling on the floor, abandoning himself to your pleasure, holding you down to have you all for himself, and wasn’t he tired? 

“Goku,” You whined, hissing as his tongue dragged over your clit in rapid moves. “I need a break… Please…”

His eyes fixed on your face, licking all over your entrance before pulling away slightly.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” Goku asked, looking at you with puppy eyes, obviously trying to appeal more to you. 

And it was working extremely well, the skin around his mouth and even his nose glistening with a mix of your release and his saliva, making him much more attractive than what he already was. Your stomach twisted inside with renowned arousal, and you were damned tired but he still managed to awaken something inside you so easily, it was impossible to ever say no to him. The bastard knew it damn well, smiling at you as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, making your thighs twitch on each side of his head. 

“It-It’s not that…” You whispered, not attempting to stop him any further. 

You let out a choked out moan when Goku repeated the same action, running his hands up and down your legs before settling them on your hips, keeping you in place. As if your legs hadn’t given out some time ago already. 

Shaky gasps slipped past your lips when Goku buried his tongue inside you, pressing his entire face to your sensitive skin and digging his nose against your clit. Your body trembled despite its weariness, it felt damn good to have him so close, so enthusiastic about pleasing you. Pain mixed in, your skin throbbing for so many consequent orgasms, but it was still so fucking good.

With a shaky hand, you threaded your fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp as Goku hummed, completely lost in your taste and warmth. He slurped and moaned, hands trailing towards your chest as he swirled his tongue inside you. Every move he made sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, and the noises he made only enticed you more. 

It didn’t take long for fire to ignite in your loins. It was inevitable; you were putty in his hands, completely malleable under his ministrations, and after so many orgasms, it was easy to get to the edge. 

Nuzzling his face closer, prodding his nose against your clit with more pressure, your entire body shuddered when you came for the umpteenth time. You didn’t have it in you anymore to really moan, only letting out stuttered gasps, mouth hanging open as your body pulsed with pleasure. 

Your vision turned white for longer than usual, and you might have assumed you fainted if it wasn’t for Goku’s voice, groaning animalistically against your warm skin, and his hands gripping your breasts firmly, surely leaving bruises. 

Your brain couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds in the last hours, but you had to ask yourself how he could still go on. He must have surely been hard, achingly hard, but his hands had never left your body. He had caressed every curve and dip at first, when he had first seduced you, only to use them to keep you in place later on, caging you against the mattress as he feasted on your slick. 

Gasping for air, as if you were drowning, you weakly tugged on his hair when Goku slid his tongue over your folds, collecting every drop of your release, creating even more of a mess over your skin that spilled over the sheets. 

“Goku, please…” You begged, looking at him with hooded and glossy eyes. “I-I need a moment… I wanna taste you too…”

The eyes staring back at you were nothing like his usual cheerful ones; he was looking at you like a predator would look at its prey. 

“Maybe later.” Goku replied, smirking as he dragged his tongue slowly over your clit. “I’m still hungry.”

You panted, at a loss for words when he dived back in, indulging himself in your flavor. 

His fingers pinched your nipples when Goku slid his tongue back inside you, and you could only arch your back, closing your eyes as you let him do as he pleased. You were completely and utterly at his mercy, letting yourself be devoured by this man who had your heart, body and soul at his reach. 

And you wouldn’t want it any other way. If dying from too much pleasure was real, then it was a heavenly way to die if it was at his hands, wasn’t it?

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Can I ask for a country!reader with aph america, china and russia who used to depend on them for survival in the past because they were very poor, but now they are successful and distancing themselves? Thanks

I uh got lost on this one and it’s a long Drabble where I think I hit the mark but didn’t .

This one is kind of a long read.

Anyways I still hope you enjoy!

America 🇺🇸

Reminsing about the times you used to cling to him for everything.

You and your citizens needed food because your nation was experiencing a once-in-a-mellinnia drought?

You got it. Alfred would have prepared you and all of your people a splendid feast. He’s more than happy to provide.

Lacking clothes?

Not a problem. He’s made sure that all the clothes you require are bespoke. You look stunning & quickly made any other nation stare at you in awe whenever you attended world meetings with Alfred. Since you needed him, you did your best to prove your loyalty to him in subtle but sufficient ways. You always hung off his arm whenever meetings adjourned or before they began. You always sat next to him & voted in his favor when he did something for you. You’d become the lovely little charm he enjoyed showing on the world stage. He loved having all the strings attached to you. You were like a perfectly crafted marionette doll made just for him.

Alfred was always interested in maintaining dominance in your relationship. It was amusing to watch you attempt to break that power dynamic.

Alfred is going to allow you to cut your ties to him symbolically. He’ll allow your economy to blossom, the education sector to bloom, and you have one of the best healthcare systems. You’d figured out how to be efficient. But you had no military because you depended on him, and he couldn’t have you be too far independent from him. But to some degree, he wants you to believe that you are. He didn’t want to lose, just like England. He was better than him and felt that he’d always maintain control over you. It was obvious you couldn’t take care of yourself. You needed him. To him, your success was temporary.

The moment he sees the first string break from his precious puppet, he begins devising a plan to pin you with iron strings.

“Y/N? Why are you looking into how to structure a military? Aren’t the bases I gave you enough? But also aren’t your people kinda weak and like being with books and having intellectuals and farmers?”

“Yeah….” You began hesitantly and try to concoct a lie that would soothe his fears about being abandoned. You began to abhor the tight strings that choked the life out of your wrists. You wanted to begin to break free so that you could create a future independent of him & his contracts.

“No…actually…” Your voice was trembling now. You forced your arms outwards to the open air, waiting for the divine silver scissors to cut loose your wrists.

“I appreciate you, Alfred… I really do…but” You stare at him straight in the eyes, summoning your strength. His blue orbs had darkened with scary ghost-like shadows. Still you marched onwards.

“But I want to build myself up and be on my own.”

Alfred bit down on his own lip. Holding back his rage was difficult for him but he was desperately in love with you. He thought you would have known that it would have been your permanent place to be with him. The deal was that you were supposed to be in debt to him forever. And forever means until the end of time! Till the two of you were the last people standing in the midst of an alien war, the only ones on a desolate island. You were designed perfectly for him, but he had to let you find out just how difficult it is to be in charge of through thick & thin.

“That also means….” You place a comforting hand on his cheek to break him out of his internal fantasy of the two of you against the world. You attempt to soften the blow to his already bruised ego. A sprinkle of light briefly flashes over his eyes. You already know that what you’ve just started is going to be a major emotional endeavor.

“I can pay you back” A bright like the summer sun smile graced your face & melted some of the ice that had formed in his heart after hearing you wanted to become independent from him.

‘Y/N why do you have to do this to me? Why in hell do you want that of which is forbidden?’ He placed his hand on top of you hand that still cradled his cheek.

“Okay just let me know if I can hel-”

“NO! No… America…I’ve got to learn how to do things on my own. If I depend on you all the time I’ll never know how to do anything.”

The strings that are attached to your soul shake. Your wrists had been cut free by the silver scissors. That feeling was terrifying and magnificent.

Alfred's heart was hit with the sharp sting of a lightning bolt. What he feared was beginning to manifest into reality. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made him insanely angry and drove him mad. You never called him by his nation's name like that, at least not in a long time.

“Okay [Country Name]. We can talk later.” He politely removes your hand from his face and leaves you without giving you a hug good-bye. Alfred didn’t give you another glance before he left you alone. Once the door slammed shut that’s when his scheming began.

He will take you down like an agonizing tumor once you have your nation properly running. Alfred will allow you to stabilize because he wants to dissolve you slowly. He will document every miscalculation, bad decision, and failed proposal & use it as evidence that you should have never been allowed to be in charge of your own nation. This time his newer strings would be made of impenetrable steel.

Cartels and Mafias suddenly began to spring up in all of your major cities and spread to the suburbs. Your police departments were ineffective at solving the crime waves that were sweeping your small nation. Your government, of course, was in a panic due to the magnitude and rapid pace of these crime sprees. It only took three weeks for the chaos of the mafia wars to be taken to the quieter streets in the suburbs. There was an apparent hunt to find a drug den that had the product of at least $15 million. It was also rumored that it’s likely a scared diamond somewhere in your nation's midst.

“Oh, this is getting insane!”

You were watching the coverage of your nation's trials and tribulations on international television. America’s news outlets seemed to be particularly harsh. Deep down you were beginning to doubt whether being independent from him was the right choice.

‘Everything is getting so bad so quickly.’

You tap your fingers nervously against your desk until the fact dawns on you that: Dealing with tough issues was a part of life.

You take a deep inhale in and call a meeting with your boss, emergency response teams, & negotiators. You pop open your computer to take notes and devise a plan. You were ready for the crazy next few months with lots of caffeine and difficult conversations.

Alfred hates that you’ve become self-sufficient and can handle the major crises he’s constructed. You had cut loose your feet by now. You knew your silver scissors hungered for more. All you had left to cut was that of which was around your neck. He didn’t want to see you free.

The next thing Alfred will try to attack is your economy. Can’t run a nation on an empty bank account. As he drew up plans to make your nation sink under, there was a delicate knock at the door. He knew it was you. His heart hums fast-paced with anxiety-filled music.

‘Why won’t they be mine?’ He repeats over and over again in his mind. He swiftly flips his plan board to its other blank slate.

“Come in Y/N I know it’s you!” The door swings open to unveil his lovely puppet. You were ecstatic as you practically sprinted to him as you busted through the door. You had a white envelope with you.”

“Here you are Alfred some of what I owe you!” You gleefully hand him your payment. His heart begins to reveal that it has cracks that begin to deepen.

‘They can’t be doing this! How could they?!?! How in the fuck can they not see that they were made for me!’ Alfred didn’t want to admit he admired your determination. You really could be indepe-

Blood crept up his throat at the thought of your independence.

The check that you handed him may as well have been the sharp end of an axe. It made his blood run between ice and fire. He was angry that you desired the forbidden fruit and sad to some degree that you didn’t want him as much as he wanted you.

‘Weren’t you always supposed to stick around with the people who save you….Y/N? I’m your hero after all those decades…That means I’m supposed to own you for life dammit.’

Your hand on his shoulder will jolt him back to reality.

“Alfred, are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Yeah. Just busy and consumed with a few important things.” His eyes don’t meet yours they stay surveying the ground. He’s fighting the urge to pin you down & steal your silver scissors before they have a chance to become the ax. It means that you’d be able to sever your ties forever and be in-

“No.” He says to the frigid air-conditioned room.

“Hmm?”

“Long day Y/N and even longer month. You should go.” He shoos you away in an attempt to save face & not showcase his worse tendencies just yet. He needed you to believe that he was 100% on board with your plan to be 100% independent from him.

“Okay! I won’t linger. I’ll have another payment for you soon!” You rush off to continue with your ambitious endeavor. His heart never failed to flutter furiously whenever he was hit by your fiery determination. That’s one of the reasons he loved you and why he had to have you. He was itching to have you living with him again.

Once he see’s that you’d come a significant way in paying off your debt to him you had flourishing trade deals with larger countries that seemed to benefit your population greatly. You were doing it. The thick thread that was around your neck shook.

Alfred’s eye will twitch in reacting to the shift in power. He hated how you weren’t in his home doing more important things like cooking with him, playing video games, pigging out on pizza and watching movies. You knew how to soothe him, make him laugh, and fit perfectly between his arms.

Why did you have to break your responsibility to protect his heart?! Alfred’s inner turmoil about losing you will only increase. It will reach a boiling point where he’s going to resort to kidnapping you if you refuse to have a close permanent relationship where he can easily dominate you.

He shatters those silver scissors you possess into millions of tiny pieces. He doesn’t fail like Arthur because he is superior to that old man of his past. The iron strings will be bitterly cold & burn your skin. The steam of hate will be felt in the air as you know Alfred would never allow you to be without your strings. After all, you were all he’s ever wanted in his lonely life.

China 🇨🇳

There are many early mornings when the beauty of the Spring Blossoms takes his mind off of how his heart aches when he’s without you. With his legs crossed and his mouth inhaling deeply, his mind takes stock of the lack of noise in the background.

You weren’t there because you’d moved away.

Yao’s eye twitched at that awful thought. It made him sick to his stomach. He’s been through numerous wars, scandals, collapses, & centuries worth of bullshit. It’s not like he hadn’t felt betrayal but since he regarded you differently from the others. You had a certain effect on his heart, making him infatuated with you. You were like a rare gem unearthed from the Forbidden City. You were special to him, and no one else was allowed to have you. He, like Alfred, will want to maintain a calm & collected composure in front of you. Yao didn’t want you to know he hated the idea of you separating from him to become more independent. He wanted to keep you trapped in his beautifully crafted glass cage.

‘How in the hell does Y/N not love the life I meticulously crafted for them here?’ His mind wanders to all the fun outings you did together….hand-in-hand. One of the main things he enjoyed doing with you was drifting through Wangfujing snack street—the hustle and buzz of the sea of people that frequented the busy night market.

He loved being your guide & seeing your face light up when you tried something new & enjoyed it.

‘How could that not be enough for you Y/N?’

His nails scrape at his freshly pressed sage brown military uniform. The thick fabric crinkled under his frustration. He understood that having power over you would eventually make you want to escape him. He, however, was impressed with how you breached security systems and bypassed his guards.

For as long as you depended on him Yao primarily treated your relationship as he was your mentor that you were always supposed to adhere to. He always took up most of the time you had in the majority of your schedule. Yao hardly allowed you without his supervision either he or one of his guards was beside you. But what did that matter? Why should you complain? He provided for you since you’d come to him at his doorstep. You were desperate, destitute & in great need. You required his assistance & his tender love and care.

“Of course, y/n of course! Come in! You look sickly I can nurse you back to health!” Yao was ecstatic when you crawled to him in your desperate hour. It meant that he had an opportunity to ensnare you for all of your existence. That’s why he crafted that golden cage for you. It was beautiful, and that's all that should have mattered to you. Yao defended you well whether it be in the negotiation room on the world stage or even on the battlefield.

Yao had you covered. But you were still desperate to leave. It’s why the ground had tiny shards of glass that cut into him deeply.

Yao takes another deep inhale. He understood all too well that this was just a rebellious state & you’d soon be reminded of your place. All he’d have to do is retrieve & re-educate you.

Yao is going to devise ways to make your economy come to a sluggish crawl. He knows it is foolish to allow you to have a strong cultural economy which allowed your nation to expand your tourism, architecture, & education sectors. This allowed you to have time away from him so that you could develop your own ideals… a determent to his dominant control over you & your people. He wanted to keep you trapped in the delusion that you needed him for your survival.

‘The time for my sweet y/n to play this foolish game of independence has run it’s course.’

Yao’s mind blissfully wandered back to the days when he’d first found you: poor, destitute, and alone. You didn’t have any fight within you as a struggling nation. You and your people were on the verge of giving up all hope. Everyone who was a [name of your nation's people] wanted to resign themselves to being dissolved into the cold void of space, leaving behind nothing more than a chapter or two within the catalog of history.

That all changed when you caught the eye of one of the oldest empires in the world: China. He sought you out due to the fact that you were a lovely nation that sat near the sea. You had prime port spots and beautiful land whose capabilities were best suited for farming. He could take you under his wing & teach you how to utilize your available resources to it’s full capabilities. Not to squander itlike you were so foolishly doing.

He recognizes that his first huge miscalculation in maintaining control over you was allowing you to have unsupervised educational rights. You began to craft a population that valued critical thought over blindly following direction from those in charge.

Yao’s eye twitches once more. The thought of having to contend with a [country name] intellectual, professor, or anyone who’s been through your unique but effective education system meant he had….

“General Wang!” You have a response to the contract that you sent to [country name] for review.

Yao was eager to see your response to a partnership deal that was riddled with a ton of underhanded loopholes he could take advantage of if you disobeyed him. He was able to sense the hesitation in the soldier's hand. It wanted to jerk back. To keep his eyes away from the offensive sight.

“Let me guess the Magpie didn’t want to nest and make a home in its beautifully gilded cage?” No trace of surprise in his monotone voice. Within the calm, there was a silent raging anger brewing beneath his skin.

‘How fucking dare you Y/N. Using me. Don't you know once in debt you’ll always be in debt?’

It takes him a couple of decades to even acknowledge that he has feelings for you. By the time he does, he’s already rescued your nation a few times. He knew he felt differently about you just he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Yao hoped that you’d be satisfied with having the illusion of freedom. You could pick your clothes, what you ate, what outings. That was enough for a while. After all, you did come from a [country name] where there was nothing but struggle and strife and hardly enough to get by. It was easy at first to satiate your population with feasts that had high-quality and fresh food. Dim Sum day and night accompanied by the best teas and wines.

Yao LOVED showing off his knowledge of tea, whether it be a strong black tea that kicked alive all of your senses or a green tea that relaxed you to sleep and gave you lovely dreams. Crafting food and drinks was one of his specialties. He put extra passion and flare when it came to making food for you. That and he is trying to show off. He didn’t always need military power or grand spectacles to captivate. Thats what he had developed his cooking skills for. He could prove that he was more than just a political stronghold…he had a gentle side too. Yao is going to make a spectacle while he cooks. He will do back flips as he makes your pan-fried dumplings or spruces up your rice. His heart flutters with joy whenever he sees you giggle. It was like getting a strong hit of opium. You’re his addiction, and he wasn’t going to give it up. He wanted to create reasons as to why you should always be around him. So if keeping you poor was a part of the game, he was willing to do so.

He’s not an idiot or blind to how you’d be in pain from him being ruthless in trying to keep you under his thumb. So he does give you some economic leverage and allow your people to concentrate solely on art. He adored it when you created masterpieces especially when they were exclusively for him. It was easy & it wouldn’t burst the delicate bubble of reality that he wanted to keep you trapped in. It prevented the both of you for a while from thinking about the future. Yao could once again see his and your nation become tied together and be content. However, that's a double-edged sword as it does eventually lead you to crave more.

Yao is going to create a cyclical conundrum for himself: Give you microdoses of freedom that slowly show you that you can be independent and happy while fighting the urge to want to take you over and never let you be free and see you sad. He still has to worry about you seeking susbatantial answers he’s not really ready to answer (if ever). He hoped to some degree that as an immortal nation, you’d come to be infantilized forever. But he could not pause progress.

“You’re 100% right sir. Y/N & [citizen name] didn’t really want to be beholden to you anymore. The parliament has decided to vote against your proposal. They seem determined to forage their own way.”

“Dammit Y/N why do you have to be incredibly headstrong!” He springs to his feet as soon as the anger rushed through his body.

“Why do you have to be so ungrateful? Why do you show no respect? How in the world can Y/N not see that I LOVE & just want to PROTECT you!”

“Well, sir I suppose it’s time to resort to less gentle tactics to make them concede.”

“Oh, my rebellious misguided magpie. What am I going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to need a heavy dose of tough love.”

Yao snaps his finger for his soldier to come close.

“If they want to prod the dragon as it sleeps then I’ll let the people of [country name] find out how foolish that is.”

Yao is going to “peacefully” kidnap you meaning he will bribe who he can and kill whoever can’t be reasoned with money when it comes to your security detail. He’s going to make a show of it. It will start when you accidentally cut yourself with glass. It will begin at the sole of your foot. Birds will suddenly join your midst. A black and white feather will land in your small puddle of blood.

“More won’t have to be spilled Y/N if you just give in.”

Russia 🇷🇺

At first, Ivan will be lax & he won’t really acknowledge the things that you’re trying to do to separate from him. He’ll want to believe he’s downed too much vodka and cocktails. It’s nonsense. Nonsense. All of it. Since you’d been with him for so long & still in debt to him he believed that’s guarantee that you’d never leave him. At this point in his mind, he’s built the narrative that you stayed because you loved him.

“ I wish things didn’t have to be this way,” Ivan says coldly with his pipe in one hand and love letter in the other.

At the beginning of your relationship, when you and your people were down on your luck, he saw you as a feminine version of Latvia that he wanted to protect and bear hug 24/7.

“Let the loving, warm arms of Mother Russia help you.”

Ivan is eager to assist you & your impoverished people not only because he is fond of you but because you have beautiful tracks of land when it’s not being bombarded by drought and animals facing severe infection and plagues. It seemed for some reason that sunshine and prosperity had been avoiding you like finding a cure to heal your cattle.

“Hmm? Ummm…” Were the only words that you could summon. You were shocked that one of the superpowers would come over to chit-chat with you. To some degree you knew you were hardly a faint blip on most nations radar.

“Y/N you’re cute when you behave like a nervous kitten.” He placed his gloved bear paw on top of your head. When he did so you could finally take stalk of how much taller he was than you. At least a foot and a few inches. Your muscles soon tensed up and intimidation along with a host of other emotions suddenly flooded your nervous system.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I guess. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately you know?” Nervous still you began to involuntarily shake. You could tell if it was caused by your nerves or hunger. Being in his presence was intense. You bite down on your lip hoping there was at least some decent food when you got back to your room like your boss had promised. Your facade of keeping it together without collapsing seemed like an impossible task.

“Stress? What kind of stress? Tell me da? We are friends now after all aren’t we?” His pure periwinkle eyes sparkled with glitter with hints of black specks within them.

“Huh? I mean we’ve been on a few committees and have been in a few voting blocks together, but it’s …” You knew you had to be careful with your choice of words. One wrong one and you knew he could crush you in one quick motion only using his wrist.

You hardly had the energy to stand. You began to wobble. You became woozy.

“Come. Y/N. Come. You must sit sunflower. You look pale & weak.”

You were definitely going to ignore his emphasis on the word ‘weak’. You kept it as a mental note in the back of your head.

‘He’s being a bit suspicious and creepy. I wonder if he’s about to offer…’

“About to make you a kind offer you won’t forget.”

‘Is he!? No. NO. I’m definitely going loopy due to hunger.’ You were trying to concoct a response that was equal parts composed, resilient, and calm. However, that process was cut short when a grey, black, and white static filled your eyes. Rendering you incapable of seeming like a nation that had their shit together. Quite the opposite. With no response, Russia will take the lead. He placed his hand on your upper back. He took note of how your palms and fingers were spread apart wide in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your eyes were glazed over with an exhausted grey mist.

He chuckles in amusement.

‘Man, this is going to be easy.’

It took a few minutes before your haze finally lifted. However, it felt like your soul had left your body and you were just an empty husk running on fumes.

“Um, this is really a conversation for a later time…” Unable to think of ways to navigate a negotiation with a massive country like Russia. You could at least buy yourself some time and try to talk to someone for advice. You know that it seemed benevolent but had plenty of tight ropes, strings, and red lines that come attached with such a deal.

“After the meeting, we can talk it out over dinner. I can show you some of my nation's best food.” His aura brightened at the fact that you’d be more within his domain and far deeper within his influence.

Russia, at this point, is kinda like a honey trap. He learned this tactic from his friend (enemy at times) America. Knowing how to be a smooth charmer even though he tends to have an unsettling presence that has chaotic energy with a baby face. He incorporates but doesn’t copy America. Russia tends to lean on his disarming soft face to help him and instead of offering punishments first, he’s more likely to offer an insensitive with maybe a threat at the end. (This only tends to happen if he can’t see that you’re responding positively to what’s being offered.) So Russia knows how to show more restraint.

Of course, you didn’t say no to the private meeting you had with him. Your boss practically begged you to do so, along with some of your citizens and advisers.

“How can we say no? You have to Y/N! What do we have to lose at this point?”An advisor stated with urgency.

“We can figure it out as we go but we must do something! This is a sign this is it!” Another citizen piped up.

“All right, all right I’ll go.”

Ivan will introduce you to this five-point plan that he drafted. It will be showcased through Matryoshka Doll. The five stages will explain how you will become one with Mother Russia without losing your recognizable national heritage.

‘Don’t worry’ is what he’ll assure you. He’s got all the heavy lifting. Just allow him to set the pace and control everything.

Ivan won’t immediately snap you up like a Venus fly trap. He knows that he has to manage you and all of your people, constituents, and other parties. He’ll let all settle in before he begins to move any plan forward.

Ivan’s scarf had wrapped around your shoulders as he brought out a Matryoshka doll that was about the size of your thumb.

“You will receive a new one once you complete a new phase. It shows how close friends we’ve become.”

Your eyes wander down to the bright red hooded figure that is decorated with Ivy and Azalea flowers. You ran your index finger down the smooth surface. You admired the intermixing of the pastels with the primary colors. The florals seemed to string themselves together like a fence that had cursive graffiti on it. In the back of your mind, you still couldn’t help but feel that you were making a huge mistake even if on the surface, things between you and Ivan would be smooth.

“We first have to ensure that your citizens are able to eat, have proper housing, and all of their other basic needs are met. You’ll have to live with me of course.”

‘Maybe, I’m just overthinking it. After all what choice do I really have? It’s not like I’ve been able to survive to well on my own.’

Your thumb continued to rub the fresh paint. The Azalea flowers encapsulated and sustained you. They were lovely because they represented the current concealed love. The colors made you feel safe and comforting. The coolness of the wood brought goosebumps to your skin. Your immune system was trying to send warning signs but you continued to ignore them for the idea that permanent comfort wasn’t too far off. The suffering was beginning to be too much to tolerate daily.

Ivan will make sure that you’re comfortable in his house. He’ll allow you to go see your nation every 4 months or so. The rest of the time will be you learning proper Russian, the culture, history, etc.

As you began to adjust to life with him, you enjoyed not having to face hardships. It was nice not to have to worry about where your next meal was to come from or how some of your particularly vulnerable cities managed to survive with minimal resources. These questions were no longer at the forefront of your mind. You allowed the sweet side of life to dull your senses.

The next part of Ivan’s five-point plan involves him having full jurisdiction of your military bases, ports, secret hubs, etc. He didn’t want you or your population getting into battle.

Ivan’s log-like arm was draped over you, and he introduced you to some of his seasoned commanders who’d be taking over all of your military operations. As you trailed behind him through the Russian-built base, you were in awe of the immense firepower he possessed and was lending to you. It was a not-so-subtle reminder of how much you now depended on him. It was the first time that you realized that you entered an inescapable pact that you made with Ivan. Your mind had finally registered the second doll with the Camellia flowers had been firmly sealed around you as it was tossed into the sea.

A firm squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality. Ivan’s sweet and somewhat sinister smile that adorned his pale snow face reassured you that everything would be fine so long as you were in his care.

If you want to escape him with the least emotional and economic damage and the lowest detriment to your citizens, then you really should have prevented him from setting up any kind of military infrastructure. So he now has a strategic advantage if (and or when) you try to separate from him.

As a nuclear power he of course, never let you have a program for energy much less for weapons. If you ever asked about such things ice and snow will coat the room while his face will have the everpresent smile remaining on Ivan’s face. His icicle-like ‘why’ was more than enough for you to never bring the subject up with him again.

The comfort began to feel more like constriction….suffocation. The air around you felt like you were in the vacuum of space.

The final matryoshka doll is decorated with cedar leaves (I will live for thee), Yellow Hyacinths (Jelously), Ivy (Wedded Love), and Primrose (I cannot live without you). It was handed to you right before the two of you began another tense meeting on why you’re trying to become more independent.

“I will not be without you Y/N nation of [insert most recognized attribute]”

“Hmmm?” Trying to make sure you didn’t just hear that highly possessive statement. Trying to give Ivan a chance to walk that back. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, you break it.

“Ivan, are you okay?” Your voice trembles out.

“Da Y/N….But we do have some difficult discussions to be had.” He closed his book with a loud thud, it was loud enough to make you jump in your seat a little.

At this point, it’s game over. Whatever well-thought-out plan you may have made to be independent of him may as well be strapped to a rocket being sent to the moon. If you want to be successful, you’d need another superpower backing you or extremely good socioeconomic conditions and political unrest in Russia to actually be able to win against him.

[capr1pengu1n]

So let's all pretend that we are undead

Summary: After an encounter with something you're sure wasn't human, you come to find that he can't seem to keep himself away from you

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), vampire au, so typical vampire things (vampire lore is whatever i say it is), choking, fingering, dom!Edward, power play, marking, stalker behaviour

Words: 4.6k

Notes: So after the lovely @adhdnursegoat posted her amazing vampire edward fic (which you all should read cause it's so delicious), i remembered i'd posted a vampire au fic on ao3 ages ago and never posted it on here, so here it is. I edited it so it flows better with how i write currently.

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The hairs bristle on the back of your neck as you walk your standard commute home, the physiological response a frighteningly normal part of your life for the past couple of weeks. You keep walking, one foot in front of the other as the wind lightly blows your skirt around your thighs. Out of the corners of your eyes, shadows move and twist into alleyways and darkened shop windows under the moonlight.

The feeling of being watched is something quite new to you. Of course, you were once a child cowering under the blankets at night, fear emanating from that corner of your room that was just a bit too dark, a bit too empty. However, the feeling had naturally dissipated once you reached adulthood. You grew up, realised no monsters were lurking in the shadows, or creatures hiding beneath your bed ready to feast on your ankles. At least, that's what you thought. But now, since you'd met him, you felt you were always the subject of someones intense gaze.

Thinking about the first time you met him, was it even a him? It made your head grow fuzzy and unfocused. You distinctly remembered the panic you felt after missing the last bus, the biting chill of the night air as you walked back, the tight feeling of your shoes and the planning to return them as they weren’t fitting right. The pre-occupied thoughts must have led you to take a wrong turn, but after that the memory feels wrong; like a tv full of static occasionally getting a flash of cable network. You remember a sort of warmth, a hand? Maybe, you think something must have pushed you. But what you mainly remember is the terrible ache in your neck the morning after, how groggy and light headed you'd felt. You shake your head and continue to press on, the faded memory won't help you get home after all. Although for a reason you can't quite place, the colour green won't leave your mind’s eye.

A clatter causes you to turn around, your heart jumping to your throat at the loud noise. False alarm, you watch as the empty pepsi can rolls sadly along the pavement. You get your phone out to entertain yourself until the screen flickers and the battery dies. You start to slightly panic now; you knew you’d charged it so there’s no way it should be out of power this quickly. As the streetlamps flicker too, you increase your pace. You’ve watched enough horror films to know you don't want to hang around when weird things start happening, so you maintain a quick stride, ducking through shortcuts and ignoring what you thought are footsteps behind you on multiple occasions.

“I think you dropped something.”

Before you register the question, you feel something grab your arm hard enough to have you stumbling. Your head spins around to face your attacker, ready to fight. He's tall, easily able to overpower you as you're pushed back against the wall and your face tilted up towards him. He looks…human? What an odd thing for you to think, it’s not like he can be anything else. Glasses frame his admittedly handsome face, and your eyes dart to the tailored suit that clings to him in a dark shade of green; the more you look at it, the more your mind seemingly feels fuzzy, so you opt to stare into the pools of his eyes instead.

You feel the blood pumping throughout your entire body, the nervous twitch of your fingers as your mind races. You want to run, to scream, to stay and find out what exactly the man before you wants. He smiles, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes, gazing down at you in what could only be described as fascination. “Shhh, don’t fret” he whispers, the cadence somehow putting you more at ease and making your body feel weightless.

“What- what do you want?”

He seemingly laughs at that, like the mere thought of you attempting a conversation with him was somehow amusing, but he divulges you.

“I have come to apologise; I can’t help but think I-“ he pauses, “over-exerted you last time we met.”

You go to explain that you’ve never met him before, but like a tidal wave it comes crashing back to you. It was him. He had done something, left that mark on your neck and had you deliriously waking up inside your apartment with no clue how you came to arrive there. Now, all you can visualise in your mind’s eye when you think about that night is the dark green that adorns his figure.

“Clever girl, I knew you’d remember. Although I admit I was not the most gentlemanly presence that night.”

While his words imply that he's trying to apologise, his tone carries no such weight.

“Someone as delicate as you all alone, you’re lucky it was me who found you.”

Scrambling in your mind, you manage to crawl out of the haze he seemingly has you under to demand an answer to a question that has plagued you you. What happened that night? But all he says in reply was “I was hungry.”

Before you can hope to say another word, he softly brings his hand up to your jaw, tracing down your neck until he reaches the marks he left.

“They’ve healed well” he breathes; his voice so soft you could barely hear it. “I suppose it’s too soon to drink from you again, I do want you to remain intact.”

You should be scared, should be screaming for help and fighting him off, but you aren't. You don't want to, why do you want to be his captive? While you don't understand who, or what, he is, you somehow know that he doesn't want to hurt you. Instead, all you have to contend with is the embarrassing realisation that you have been pressing your thighs together the whole time he spoke, his voice vibrating through you as his touch sends little jolts all around your body. His eyes flit down to your thighs, and your whole body seems to shift under his gaze.

“Such an eager little thing” he muses, “I wasn’t expecting such a response, but it is indeed welcome”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and when he places his hand on your thigh you can't stop yourself from rocking forward. That motion causes a real laugh from him, a noise deep and inhuman, something that in any other situation probably would have sent shocks of anxiety through you but instead sends you deeper into your own depravity. But he withdraws his hand, and takes a deliberate step back away from you. Confusion sweeps across your face, although his remains impassive.

“No, if I am to take you it will not be in an alleyway like a common whore.”

Your face flushes as the reality of what you had just been so eager for him to do sets in, you don't even know this man’s name yet you were so willing to have him touch you so intimately.

“Go home pretty girl, I’ll announce myself when the time is right”

His tone leaves no room for negotiation as he moves to walk away, not before stopping to utter “My name is Edward, since you were wondering.”

You get the sense he already knows yours, despite never giving it. You blink and he's gone, he hadn’t walked away, he was simply gone. Dissipated into thin air like a blow of smoke. So, you start to walk home yet again, body still aching and your mind reeling at the encounter you’d just had.

It's a few days until you have an encounter with him again. The hour is late, although this time thankfully you're safe in your apartment, having finished your depressing routine of re-watching your favourite show alone with a quick dinner you’d prepared. You're just starting to doze off on the sofa when the knock comes at your door. Freezing, you turn towards the door and listen again. Another knock comes, loud and imposing. You weren’t expecting visitors, so shyly you get up to look through the peephole but nobody sees to be there. Opening the door, you jump when you see him, Edward, staring at you from the hallway.

“Mind if I come in?” he inquires, and something about the way he speaks makes you want to say yes to anything.

You manage to shake that disturbing feeling but stammer out a yes and step aside for him to enter. He looks the same as when you’d saw him last, his pristine suit spotless save for a small dot of red staining the crisp white of his shirt. He walks straight into your living room, looking around in feigned curiosity while you awkwardly pick at your sleeve. What were you even meant to say to him?

“Have you been thinking of me?” he asks, and stares deeply at your shocked expression. You hadn’t expected him to say something so blunt, so you change the subject to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting you had.

“Who are you? Why are you- “

“Why am I here? My dear I thought you’d be happy, after all it was you who was so desperate for my personal attention when we last spoke was it not?” He replies, the smugness present in his tone.

You know you have no way of avoiding the inevitable, shameful memories pouring through as you recall just how horny he’d made you with just a few simple touches. Although the rationality thankfully starts to come back to you, as you still hadn’t had a clear answer as to what happened to you during that previous encounter.

“I suppose I’ll lay your suspicions to rest; I can see they’ve been plaguing you.” He starts, ignoring your shocked expression as he seemingly reached into your mind and pulled out the interrogative you’d been thinking of. “When I first laid eyes on you, the hunger I had been experienced increased tenfold, I needed to have you in my arms while I drained the blood from your neck”

Now you really are speechless, the cold tone in which he admits to such an act causes a chill to run up your spine. It was so…inhuman. You should laugh in his face at such a story, but your thoughts go hazy and you find yourself accepting his speech as fact. As he speaks, he walks closer to you, and when you crane your head to look at him, his neutral expression can't quite hide the darkness in his eyes. 

“And so, I did. I bit into you and you satiated me. It’s been a while since my prey was so happy, even through the daze of your vision.” Amusement bleeds through his cadence as he recalls the memory of you pliant in his hands, reaching up to once again trace the mark left on your neck, now nearly healed.

“What the hell are you?”

The sound of his uncanny laugh reaches your ears once more, deep and unsettling. Instead of answering, he leans closer to your neck, his hot breath brushing against the mark he left. Tense, you close your eyes and brace for pain that never comes. Instead he simply kisses the spot, causing you to shiver and making him hum in appreciation.

“Tell me you want me.” He demands, “Do that and I will have you experiencing pleasures your fragile mind cannot hope to quantify.”

You can't stop the noise that rips from your throat even if you'd have tried, and despite any self-preservation you may have, you nod sheepishly.

“I said tell me, sweet thing.”

“I want you.”

“Good choice.”

He pushes you against the wall and you await his next rough movement, but instead he kisses at your neck, leaving little marks in his wake, and making you gasp at the coldness of his lips. He holds a tight grip on your hips, keeping you still and where he wants you, so all you can do is stand there and take his teasing. You feel something sharp as he drags what you guess are his fangs along your neck down towards your collarbones, your loose shirt allowing him access as he continues to leave his mark on your fragile skin.

“Do you have any idea,” He drawls against your shoulder, “how hard it is to hold myself back from ravaging you? Ever since that night, my desires have been plagued by you.”

You try to rock against him at his words but his grip remains firm.

“To think some mortal girl could overtake my thoughts like this.” The mixture of resentment and lust was clear in his voice, pulling away to look at you before grabbing your neck with his hand. You stand there, at the complete mercy of this man, this creature who could destroy you so easily, and it scares and exhilarates you in equal measure. But those thoughts come to an end when he finally kisses you roughly. Like a symphony, everything in your body seems to sing in delight, your eyes almost rolling back as the ecstasy of his lips on yours overtakes you. Maintaining the grip on your neck, his other hand makes its way down to your hips and up under your shirt. With every trace of his ice-cold fingertips up your torso, he leaves goosebumps in his wake and your body trembles. 

“Such a gorgeous thing.” he rasps, inches away from your lips. “So eager for my touch.”

You can only nod in response and grip on to the lapels of his jacket. You have never felt such burning desire in your life; the more you look in his eyes, the more the ache between your thighs intensifies. 

“Come now, let’s continue in more comfortable surroundings.”

He pulls away and leads you to your bedroom, you're so overcome with desire you fail to notice how he knows the layout of your apartment without you telling him. Before you can ponder that, you're sprawled on your back upon your bed, with him towering over you like the apparition of a god. He traces his hand over your body before lifting your shirt slightly to fully expose you to his gaze.

“I feed your anger, and I sicken your desire to satisfy me with every look, what am I?”

It takes you a moment to process what he says, but you're in no sense to try and decipher a riddle. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind, more so wanting to tell you the answer himself, proving his intellect.

“Envy, my dear. When I look at your body it makes me long for the warmth a mortal can provide.”

“You really aren’t human, are you?” you manage to stammer out, which awards you a low laugh from him.

“No. No I am not, although it doesn’t seem to be affecting you negatively now does it? I think you like it.”

He smiles then, a wicked grin that can only be described as a predator smiling at its prey. “Is that true? What a foolish little girl you are, getting aroused at the power of another being. Someone who could tear you apart.”

As he says the words, static jolts through your body making you let out a whimper and push against nothing. You look at him and he revels in your reaction, before the same sensation wracks through you. It's like you've had the air sucked from your lungs, you gasp and writhe as he commands your body without even touching you. But it isn't enough.

“Please- “

“Hm? Is there something you want my dear?”

After the third time he sends electric through seemingly your soul, you relent; you beg for him to touch you, to hurt you, to give you anything other than the blissful torture he was subjecting you to.

“If you insist.” is all he remarks callously before getting on the bed with you, ripping your underwear off with a hidden strength and pushing your skirt up, before lowering himself until he's eye level with your dripping cunt. The lewd position makes you embarrassed, but when he licks a stripe up you, your thoughts turn to mush and your head falls back. He repeats the motion before focusing on your clit, sucking while he grips onto your thighs. You can feel the bruises forming under his fingertips as he continues to please you with his mouth. Such divine pleasure coming from a creature shrouded in malevolent power makes the sensations so visceral, so intense. Bringing a hand to his hair, you attempt to shift your hips upward to feel more of his tongue but he keeps you firmly pressed into the mattress.

“You taste delightful.” He states against you, the vibration pleasantly shooting up your body. He continues to lick circles around your clit, and you gasp when you feel one of his fingers teasing your entrance. “Ask for more and I’ll give it to you, in abundance.”

So, you do. You beg for more in a way you didn’t think possible from you, sounding so desperate to your own ears. Looking down at him, you see the sadistic glint in his eyes at the way you sound, it's clear he was reveling in the power he has over you.

Luckily, he divulges your request, pushing a finger inside you; the coldness of it makes you whine and once again you attempt to shift under his grip. He ignores you, moving in and out until he feels you're ready enough for him to add a second one. All the while he continues to lavish your clit with his tongue, giving you an ecstasy that leaves your body ignited with lust. You need more, you can't take anymore. It's too much and not enough all at once.

Your pitiful cries seem to spur him on, thrusting his fingers a bit faster and crooking them just right to have your eyes rolling back into your skull. Over and over again, he has you at his mercy and you adore every second. To think you’d found out this man, this thing wasn’t human and in the same encounter offered yourself and your body willingly to him scared and excited you in one single warped wave of pleasure. He starts to gently suck on your clit once again, his fingers thrusting faster and rougher into your soaked cunt. You know it won't be long before you come undone beneath him, the prediction coming true as you feel it build inside you. Just like before he seems to once again enter your mind and know what you're thinking.

“Are you close already? My my how desperate you truly are, do you want to cum?”

You nod eagerly; your vision hazy as something seems to overtake your brain like a blanket atop a candle. You hear him speak again, but not just through your ears but through your mind.

“Submit to me, become mine and I will grant you the pleasure you crave.”

There's no other option, you have to say yes and you know you want nothing more. So you offer yourself to him fully, claiming to be his, watching as he seemingly comes alive; his fingers moving impossibly quick and something like colour appearing on his cheeks.

“Then cum.”

With his permission you let go, crying out his name as fireworks seemingly explode in your entire body. Squeezing your eyes shut, you can't control the frenzied movement of your body as it thrusts up into him. His grip on your thigh had loosened, allowing you to ride out your frantic pleasure as it seemingly lasts for an eternity. When you finally come back down from the heavens you're breathing sharply, opening your eyes to see Edward rising slightly from his position. You barely have time to think before he leans forward and bites your inner thigh. A sharp pain rushes through you as you look down in shock, seeing him lap up the blood that trickles from the wound; your thigh now has the exact same mark which was on your neck and despite both your morality and post-orgasm haze, your cunt throbs at the sight of him drinking up your blood.

“It seems I couldn’t control myself.” He states matter-of-factly, wiping a trace of blood from his lips with his finger. He then looks at you with an expression you can't read, before leaning over you and placing the finger in your mouth. Without thinking you suck the bloodied finger clean, staring at his eyes which darkened at your actions.

“Good girl.”

It had been the only time thus far that he’d praised your actions, which leads to you flushing and turning your head away. He brings you back to facing him with a hand on your jaw.

“You’re so easy to read, I hardly need to comb through your mind to know what you’re thinking.”

You stare at him, unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings. You settle on asking him how he can read your mind, which results in him smirking slightly.

“Reading your mind? What a simplistic way to put it. But I suppose if that’s the language it takes for you to understand, yes people like me can do that with ease.”

You feel a little embarrassed at the condescending way he speaks to you, although it isn't long before you forget all about it when you feel him push you so you're on your back once again. You look up at him, before he captures your lips in a fierce kiss once again. Each time he does this, it always strikes you just how cold his skin is to the touch.

“Now,” he starts, “I will take you properly, hm?”

You're a little shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you nod regardless. As he gets you in position, that same clouding of your mind happens as it had earlier; the weight of something pressing on your thoughts, making you feel so desperate for his attention, his touch, his anything.

With a gasp from your lips, you feel him enter you, a whine escaping your lips at the sensation. Grabbing on to his shoulders, you feel the air be drawn from your lungs as he pulls out and thrusts into you harshly. 

“You feel…divine” he manages to say into your ear, before his thrusts become slower. He traces his hand down your body, grabbing at your tits before growling slightly and ripping your top completely off; you’d been so caught up in what happened you’d forgot you were still wearing it. With every slow thrust you almost feel your sanity slipping away more and more, your fingernails digging in more and more to his shoulders.

“How does it feel? To have a…creature so superior to you inside you? He whispers, the pride in his voice suffocating. Despite his narcissism, you can't help but whine and tell him how good everything feels, not quite being able to articulate the pleasure he was giving you through more than just his physical touch. 

He begins to speed up after your admission, grabbing at your hip and waist before stroking his hand up and wrapping it around your throat; not squeezing but simply holding. You have no doubt that even though he was fucking you, he still posed a danger to you, and as you looked into his cold eyes you could see that that was the point. He delights in the control he has, that he could just as soon kill you than he could make you cum. And more importantly, he knows you like it.

You feel your eyes roll back slightly as he continues his pace, the slight noises of pleasure from his lips make your cunt throb more. He doesn't seem to get tired or over-exert himself, instead maintaining whatever rhythm he desires.

“Such a…greedy thing” he states, his thrusts getting faster, “You truly are a vision, what a pretty pet I seem to have found.”

You shudder at his words; your fingers having moved to drag your nails down his back as he adjusts his head near your ear to whisper into. The pleasure, the sensation, it's overwhelming. You shift your hips, the angle causing him to hit that spot inside you that has your mind reeling. All you can do is nod and release noises from your mouth that upon reflection you’re sure can't have come from you, they're so…desperate.

“And I’ll be sure to make you into such a good pet for me…all mine to use.” It was clear he meant what he said, his hand tightening on your throat. You can't help but moan at his words, the chill of his body pressing against yours mixing to create a euphoria in your head. Over and over, he thrusts into you, getting deliberately rougher as you two get closer and closer.

It was then you feel something you can't describe, an oppressive feeling throughout your entire body that simmers just below your skin. You don't know how, but you know it's him causing you to experience the strange sensation.

“Do you feel it? The control I have over you?” His grip tightens on your neck even more, causing you to struggle for breath. The feeling in your body swirls and fills every pore, every inch of you. You have never experienced anything like this in your life, the sheer ecstasy and torture of being at this monster’s mercy, inside and out.

“What fun I shall have with you, your mind cannot hope to quantify the things I am able to do to you, and I will do all of them.”

You aren't sure whether it's his rough pace, his harsh words or the fact that whatever he's doing to your mind decided it was time, but you cum loudly and frantically. The waves of pleasure crash into you; you feel as though if it wasn’t for his form pressed so close, you'd fall through the mattress and into nothingness. The world seems blurry and disjointed, your nails digging in to his back so harshly you're sure in the back of your mind you're leaving marks. Strained breaths claw their way up your throat as you feel his grip loosen, his thrusts never faltering for a moment. Overwhelmed, the feeling of him pounding into you while you're still so sensitive causes you to whine pitifully, but all you can do was lay there and let him use your body. The drag of his cock pulling out and pushing back in to you hurt so good, you almost don't want it to end despite the overstimulation. You aren't sure how long it takes, or even if you cum again from the sheer amount of pleasure your body was receiving but you feel him cum inside you, rambling about how you belonged to him as he rides out his own high. 

All that you can hear in the room is your loud laboured breathing, as the weight of his body on you was now gone. You look up at him, seeing him adjust his clothes like he’d simply done something mundane, not fucked you within an inch of your life. He glances over at you, at how pitiful you looked; half naked and sweaty, thoroughly satiated and he smirks a little. Within a moment he reaches over and strokes your cheek slightly, the intimacy surprising you. He brushes some hair out of your face, his fingers slightly shaking before standing up.

“Rest, your fragile body needs it.” His tone sounds distant, but there was a hint in his face that he wants to say something else but refrains.

“Will I see you again?”

Your question makes him smile slightly, walking towards your bedroom door but stopping before he left.

“Would you like that?” 

The way he asks makes you think he's experiencing surprise, as if the thought of you wanting to interact with him again was somehow unusual. You nod your head.

 “Then yes…I’m sure you will.”

He leaves without saying another word, leaving you still sprawled out on your bed, your mind racing. With slightly shaky limbs, you adjust yourself and wrap the blanket around your trembling form, exhaustion settling into your bones. The next morning, you're ready to write the encounter off as a wildly inappropriate dream until you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, still naked. Marks. Lots of them. All over your neck, with what looked to be fingerprints adorning the side. And as you gazed at the massacre of your skin, soft fingertips gently running over the blotched marks, you can't help but smile.

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

[desire4ella]

𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🍰 : Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎀 : 18+ themes, Sloppy makeout session , Spit play , Choking , Daddy kink ( that should be it )

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 🍰 : 1,267

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 🎀 : You and your cherry lipgloss rlly gon make Jey act up . He can’t stop looking at your lips and imagining all the nasty things he could do to you .

It was over with from the moment you walked your sexy ass into the living room , i meannn…. cmon now you should’ve have known what was gonna happen when you decided to wear that cherry lipgloss , knowing that it makes your lips look so juicy and suckable . But oh well if only you could turn back time and warn yourself . To be fair you shouldn’t be complaining cause you already knew Jey would fuck that ass up .

𝐀𝐧 𝟏𝐡𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫

“ Baeee , have you seen that new lipgloss that i recently bought ?” You shouted from upstairs in your shared bedroom . He paused the show and replied “ Nah i ain’t seen it bae , maybe check your makeup purse ”. You grumbled in frustration after searching for this damn lip gloss for the past 15 minutes. “ Ok thank you baby ” you turned around and sulkily went back to doing whatever you were doing .

“ This show goofy as hellll ” Jey laughed as he watched some girl on the screen trip and fall down the stairs because she was racing to meet her boyfriend downstairs. He heard light footsteps coming down the stairs but couldn’t be asked to take his eyes of from the screen “ Bae have you found-” It was all going in slow motion for him , his heart started racing like it was the first time he met you . “ Babe you ok ? ” You asked bewildered by him zoning out that fast . He couldn’t understand on why this lip gloss had such grasp on him , maybe it was the way it glistened on your plump lips or the way he could imagine him kissing you and your mouth tasting like the whole fruit market.

Snapping back into reality he took a deep breath and respond “ come over bae , i wanna try sumn ”. Looking at him quizzically you pursed your lips and strode towards him . You were about to take a seat next to him when his colossal hands reached and placed you right onto his lap . Letting out a squeal from his sudden action you turned to face him in confusion but all you was met with was a pair of plump lips sucking on your mouth . Giving in you allowed it to happen and warped your hands around his neck deepening the kiss and swirling your tongue around his mouth . Temporarily pulling away he said “ Shit ma , look how you got me actin ” not even letting you process what he said he dove right back in and started sucking your lips like a child would to there mothers breast .

Finally being able to snap out of this trance that he got you in , you pushed him away gently “ What has gotten into you baby? “ you asked as you studied his face . He took and deep breathe and looked you up and down slowly “ Do you not see how you look mama ? ” he leaned in next to your ear and held onto your hips tightly “ A whole snack that i could feast upon , and you want me to just sit and let you walk past ? nahh see you got me fucked up ”. You let out a giggle as you finally realised why he was acting so rabid . Grinding your hips teasingly on his now already hard clothed dick you whispered to him “ So this is why you were acting like a bitch in heat huh ? ” you said teasingly as you continued to grind on him , watching his facial expressions change into pleasure. “ All because of a little lipgloss you wanna act like you ain’t just ate my pussy an hr ago , if you were still hungry you could’ve just said that daddy ” smiling in satisfaction when he groaned and braced his head back into the sofa.

“ Well if i had known that lip gloss would have such an affect on me- , matter fact why am i even explaining? turn yo ass around ” his eyes piercing into yours as he breathed heavy and ragged from the intense make out session you just had . Turning around you took of your panties and flung it somewhere across the room , normally you would’ve took your time to tease him but the way he acting got you feeling some typa way so you had to speed it up a lil . “ You wanted to act like a lil attention seeker , now i’m finna give it to you ” scrunching your eyebrows you turned your head around and said “ how am i acting like an attention seeker when you-”silencing you he gave your ass a hard slap “ Ion wanna hear no back talk when i speak , ya understand ? “ after not get a response from you he grunted and used his legs to spread yours and began to harshly rub your already swollen clit “ i SAID do you understand ? ” looking at your already shaking form begging and babbling nonsense. “ Oooo yes daddy i understand ” you moaned out quickly forgetting about the attitude you had .

Using his hand he let a string of saliva drop into his two fingers and rubbed your pussy until it was fully coated and glistened, he prodded his two long and thick fingers into your slick pussy and started to finger fuck you roughly until all you heard was your pussy squelching around his digits . “ Fuckkkk daddy please-ee moree ” you hiccuped already feeling your orgasm quickly approaching . Grabbing your neck from behind with his other hand he leaned in and said “ you really wanna cum baby ?” looking up at him you nodded your head fast . “ well to bad ” he slipped his fingers out you and let go of your neck .

“ now since you wanna give people attitude you can take yourself somewhere else ” He picked you up and placed you beside him and turned the volume up . Looking up at him shocked at the fact that he thought this shit was ok to do , you spoke up “ Now Jey you know damn well this shit isn’t fair , c’mere and gimme that big daddy dick ” attempting to rub the growing bulge under his boxers he flung your hands of him and gave you a stern look “ don’t make me have to repeat myself, i hate to have to extend me giving you no dick for another two days ” turning back to the tv he laughed a little at the thought of you being all hot and bothered by a little rubbing .

Kissing your teeth you stood up and grabbed your panties “ but it’s a problem when i do it ? nigga fuck you ” you muttered under your breath while stomping up the stairs . Slightly turning his head he looked up at you with a smug grin “ Hmm what was that ? i couldn’t quiet hear with all that mumbling you was doing ” reaching the top of the stairs you turned around and gave him the middle finger and entered your shared room . Snickering he turned of the tv and got up to go into your bedroom knowing damn well he was only bluffing cause he need your pussy fr .

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : Thank y’all for reading this , ik it took long to post . My bad 🙇🏾‍♀️.

[doll3tt33]

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in…

(kai anderson x gn!reader)

Summary: Kai found himself watching that terrible 90s sitcom you loved ever so dearly. However, a series of uncomfortable emotions came up, along with haunting memories of you from that fateful night. (Yes this is a fanfic, not an ai bot this time)

Warnings: semi-descriptive violence, strangulation (just that, so nothing too hardcore), death, angst for daysssss

Kai sat alone on his living room couch, the whole house plunged into darkness. The only light came from the flickering television, its pale glow washing over his motionless form, doing little to brighten the heavy shadows blanketing the room. His gaze remained fixed on this horribly cheesy 90s sitcom playing before him, but no mirth touched his hollow eyes. It wasn’t just any ordinary awful ol’ sitcom—it was your favorite, a show you'd watch religiously and always swear by. Well, used to swear by... since the light and laughter have now gone from his life, snuffed out in a blinding moment of rage by his own hands.

A light furrow settled onto Kai’s brows as the sitcom’s canned laughter erupted, grating on his frayed nerves. He was two episodes deep, yet he failed to see the appeal when the laugh track cued every half a minute at each terrible excuse of a joke. He wasn’t even sure why he was watching this. He’d always brush off your requests to watch together, so why now? After pushing you away for so long. Why subject himself to this when you’re already gone for good? His eyes lifted and caught sight of the clock, its face stirring memories better left buried, eliciting a weary sigh from him—it was 7:01 pm, when everything had changed in ways even his guilt-laden thoughts could not grasp. Yet, it didn’t matter anyways—the indentation where her body once curled beside him spoke volumes left unsaid, a ghostly echo of her presence was far louder than any crappy sitcom ever could be.

As he stared into the empty spaces she left, memories long buried began to stir—memories of that night just one week past. That first poisonous seed was planted by one of his cultists when whispers of betrayal at 7:01 pm reached his ears, feeding him lies that you were a mole during this entirety. From hearing that alone, a cluster of emotions plagued his mind as though it was a virulent host taking over, fueled by some nameless hurt. Sickly paranoia took root in an instant, anger and an undeniable hint of hurt twisted within, invading his senses, feasting upon every rational thought left. Visions of lies and disloyalty swarmed his mind, utterly consumed by the ardent flames of his bitter rage as his hands that once clung to love now curdled to vengeance, with them wrapped around your throat, his grip growing stronger with each bellow he let out.

At 7:02, air felt like the most precious commodity as your lungs burned for relief. Each sob and croak of plea choked out fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the torrent of thoughts consuming Kai, with the remaining cultists showing only cold indifference to your struggle. To Kai, you were the one thing—the only person capable of unmaking all he built, rendering the cult that defined his existence meaningless. You were his greatest weakness and his deepest love all at once, yet he could not risk allowing it to unravel what he had wrought. Not even for you. Now, you were no longer the light who touched his stony heart—only a traitor responsible for imagined betrayals. Your attempts to fight back were futile, only compelling his hands to curl tighter and tighter, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Veins bulged starkly against his skin as you bucked helplessly in their clutch. Each struggle spurred only the demand pulsing in his blood: destroy what dared defy.

7:03 pm. Your face had lost its vibrant color, your skin paling as oxygen fled your thrashing form. When you strained to speak, only dribbles of spit emerged through your closing throat. With weakening strength, you raked your nails down his arms, yet your struggles became feeble, futile flailings. Tears blurred your vision as you silently pleaded for mercy, to make him see the truth—that you were no traitor but the one who had held his heart. One final time, you desperately searched his gaze for that one fragment of hope, of love remembered. Just a speck. But shadows had long swallowed any glint of warmth. All that glared back was a crimson fury, vengeance given form, as the darkness deep within now held full sway.

7:04 pm, and awareness began to fray at the seams, thoughts scattering beyond your grasp. Unconsciousness swiftly pulled you into its soundless depths, and you were now limp as a discarded doll. All that remained was a shell devoid of warmth—the body of one that Kai's twisted soul had cherished. A few beats of silence passed as madness loosened its hold, fingers uncurling from bruised flesh and blooms of brutalized skin. He had done it. He had actually done it. You, one of the few people capable of thawing frozen ruins within, were now gone for good.

Kai shook off memories clinging like cobwebs, trying to shift his focus back onto your favorite sitcom, finding bits and pieces, the faint remnants of you existing within the pastime that you’d never shut up about. Yet, it wasn’t the same anymore. It could never be. His gaze lingered on the vacant cushions as loneliness crept in, the empty space beside him mocked with finality. You alone had been a vessel for all the beautifully simple things possible, for him to feel what he thought was long dead—happiness, sadness, hurt, anger, and maybe... just maybe... that small spark of hope that kept him a tiny bit more human, now forever diminished.

𝜗𝜚 author’s note:

Sorry for not adding any dialogue like whatsoever 😭😭. I tried to come up with something but it came out so cringe and I just couldn’t kenensmwk. Oh and SORRY IF THIS IS NOT HOW STRANGULATION WORKS LMAO. I forgot to do my research and I’m not sure how long it takes until someone dies ((why do I have a feeling it actually doesn’t take that long 💀

Anywayss WHOO- first fic ever guys! I’m a lil’ bit insecure cuz I’m constantly like “am I doing this right?” But then I remember It’s literally just writing and I need to shut my stoopid thoughts up-

[scary-grace]

Expiation (Chapter 2) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter 2

You accompany Sir Tomura to the feast in his honor, drawing as many stares as he does, and you wonder if that wasn’t his purpose all along. But the stares for you contain worry, or pity, as if they fear you’ve been coerced to his side, while the stares he receives are the same stares as always. Disgust from some. Hatred from others. And always, always terror.

At the doorway to the great hall, Sir Tomura adds another offense to his long list of crimes against propriety. As the herald, a bard with a gift for language and music and mostly volume, announces Sir Tomura and guest, Sir Tomura reaches out and takes your hand.

Lords offer ladies their arms, always – or lords their arms, if they prefer men, and ladies who prefer women offer their ladies their arms in turn. Holding hands is intimate, done at betrothals and weddings and thereafter in the privacy of one’s own chambers. It’s never done in public. Your face goes up in flames, and the assembled nobles gasp, but Sir Tomura steps forward without flinching. There’s nothing for you to do but stumble after him.

No one expected him to bring a guest, so a chair and a place setting must be hastily assembled for you, and you settle in at Sir Tomura’s side at the high table, amidst the king and his councilors and their consorts, none of whom were planning to share their evening with a servant. King Izuku, to his credit, makes the valiant first effort at including you, although he does it by way of Sir Tomura. “Will you introduce us to your companion?”

Sir Tomura shrugs. “I would if I knew her name.”

You realize you’ve never spoken it to him. Likely no one else has shared it, either, because he speaks to no one else, and you failed to introduce yourself when you arrived at his chambers. Sir Katsuki scoffs. “You’re unfamiliar with the ways of chivalry. Among civilized men we learn the names of servants before we bed them.”

“Civilized people. There are women among us,” Lord Tenya corrects at once. “And not all of us bed servants.”

You’ve heard that. Lord Tenya is said to be stiff-necked and a little boring, but he holds the values of chivalry and courtly love in high esteem, in spite of the fact that you’ve never seen him court anybody. “Let him talk,” Sir Tomura says. He lifts his wineglass, inspects it, and takes a sip. You cringe at the breach in manners – no one is supposed to eat or drink before the king does. “If he wishes to make a fool of himself by raising his bedroom habits at dinner, that’s his affair. I had thought we were among civilized people. Am I incorrect?”

Sir Katsuki makes a scathing sound. You see King Izuku’s eyes widen, and from her seat at the king’s side, Sir Ochako speaks up. To you. “What is your name, and whose lands do you hail from?”

You share your name, stammering slightly. “I hail from the borderlands, my Lady. I am not sure who rules over them.”

An awkward silence falls. “No one rules them,” Sir Tomura says. He takes another sip of wine, and across the table, the king hurriedly does the same, releasing everyone else from their obligation to abstain. “They belong to warlords – the Hassaikai clan, if I’m not mistaken. How long ago did you cede your kingdom’s borders?”

King Izuku chokes on a second sip of wine. Lord Tenya glares at Sir Tomura. “It’s impolite to discuss council business at mealtime.”

“Then what do you discuss, if not anything that matters?”

You’re still holding Sir Tomura’s hand, because he hasn’t let go of yours, and you tighten your grip on instinct, the same way you’d squeeze the hand of a friend who was speaking out of turn. Sir Tomura startles, and Lord Shoto, who has yet to speak, breaks the silence. “Is that why you left?” he asks you. “Because of the warlords?”

Lord Tenya sputters that this isn’t appropriate conversation, either, but it occurs to you that this is an opportunity you’ll never have again. You always assumed that the rulers of the High Kingdom made decisions purely on what was good and just, that if they truly abandoned the borderlands, it was done for a purpose, but now you aren’t so sure. “Yes, my Lord,” you say. “The young head of the Hassaikai clan imprisons those with magic to use in his alchemic experiments. I fled so I would not meet such a fate.”

The king and his councilors exchange startled glances. “You are mistaken,” the king’s spymaster says. You shiver; until Sir Tomura arrived, Aizawa was the most feared man in the castle. “Alchemy is forbidden in the High Kingdom.”

“The borderlands aren’t in the High Kingdom,” Sir Tomura points out. He still hasn’t released your hand. “The lot of you made sure of that.”

The silence that falls is agonizing in its awkwardness. The king’s herald, finished announcing the guests at last, slips into his seat at the spymaster’s side and into his unofficial role as court jester. “You all forget yourselves. The maid’s the only one here using her manners! Shame on you, my lords and ladies – what a terrible welcome you’ve provided to the savior of the High Kingdom.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Neither can Sir Tomura. “I’m a bard, first and foremost,” the herald continues, “and you’ve put me in a bind, your Lordship the White Death, sir. How am I supposed to sing of your heroic deeds when no one has told me the tale?”

Sir Tomura looks irritated. “What heroic deeds do you think I’ve committed?”

“You cast the Enemy’s severed head down at the king’s feet,” the herald says. “I’m assuming it didn’t just fall off.”

You snicker before you can stop yourself, then clamp your hands over your mouth in horror, pulling free of Sir Tomura’s hand in the bargain. But the herald winks at you. “Not only does she mind her manners, she has a sense of humor,” he proclaims. “Congratulations, Sir Tomura. You have excellent taste in guests.”

Sir Tomura ignores him, choosing instead to drink more wine, but you’re able to observe that the mood at the king’s table has lightened somewhat. You remember, suddenly, that the king’s herald and his spymaster were both born commoners, just like you. It makes you feel ever so slightly more comfortable at Sir Tomura’s side. You aren’t the first commoner the knights and nobles of the High Kingdom have encountered – and if the herald is anything to go by, you’re far from the most impertinent.

The food at the feast is fantastic. You’ve heard that one of the cooks in the kitchen has magic, and you can almost taste it. You eat sparingly, hoping against hope that you won’t be ruined for ordinary fare from now on. Beside you, Sir Tomura ignores his plate. Although you’re his companion for the evening, you’re still a maid, and you’re meant to serve. “Is the food not to your liking, my Lord?”

“I have no appetite.”

He’s too thin. You noticed it when you caught him changing his shirt – his muscles lie too close to the skin, his collarbones and ribs too prominent. Does he intend to starve? “Your cutlery is unused. Perhaps if you try it –”

“I’m not a child,” Sir Tomura interrupts. “Be silent.”

The sharpness of the command startles you, but you don’t let it show. Sir Tomura is acting as a noble should, and you should encourage it. You return your attention to your own plate. A few moments later, there’s a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision, followed by the scrape of a knife and fork against Sir Tomura’s plate. You don’t comment, but you don’t hide your smile, either.

There’s music and dancing, as there always is at a feast, and every lord and knight seeks a dance with someone. No one asks Sir Tomura. Someone asks you, though – King Izuku, and you nearly pass out from sheer shock. Even then, you know your manners. You turn to Sir Tomura for permission. “May I dance with the king, my Lord?”

“I don’t own you.” Sir Tomura doesn’t look up from his now partially-empty plate.

You accept the king’s offer, and King Izuku leads you onto the dance floor, he in his finery, you in a maid’s uniform. You put on a clean one before you joined Sir Tomura again. As poor and plain as it is, it’s the finest thing you own. The dance is simple, and old – so old that the borderlands were more than nominally part of the kingdom when it was first popularized. The steps come easily to you, which is a good thing, because King Izuku doesn’t just want to dance. He wants to talk.

“Is it true?” he asks, just under the musicians’ melodies. “What Sir Tomura said of the borderlands?”

You nod. King Izuku’s face, normally open and ready to rejoice at the slightest provocation, falls. It’s a long fall, and something about it bothers you. “I asked my spymaster, and he said you arrived here when you were thirteen,” he says. You nod again. “Why so young?”

“So old, your Majesty,” you say. He blinks. “My father and mother concealed my magic. When it was revealed, my family and the others who had helped me conceal it fled. Only I passed through the Forest Perilous unharmed.”

King Izuku looks even unhappier than before. “Are there others from the borderlands in the castle?” he asks, and once more, you nod. “I would speak to them. If the information you and Sir Tomura have provided is true, then we must intervene. This has gone on for far too long.”

You know what Sir Tomura would say to that, even having spent less than a day in his company: It has gone on because the High Kingdom has allowed it to go on. You keep your silence, keep your head bowed, and King Izuku speaks again as he guides you through a slow spin. “As for the matter of Sir Tomura,” he says, and your shoulders stiffen, “I was surprised to see him attend the feast at all, let alone with a companion. As you may know, we have had – there has been some difficulty in, er, making him feel welcome.”

He doesn’t feel welcome because he isn’t welcome, and he and everyone else knows it. You keep your silence, and King Izuku continues, more uncertainly than you’ve ever heard him speak. Then again, he’s never spoken to you before today. “If you were willing –” King Izuku starts, then cringes. “I don’t know the, er, the nature of your contact with him today –”

“My virtue is intact.”

“Oh. Good.” The king is so red in the face that steam might as well be pouring from his ears. “In that case, perhaps it’s not appropriate to ask this of you.”

As if your virtue matters to anyone but yourself. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“Sir Tomura will need someone to attend him on a more permanent basis. Ordinarily this would be a squire – failing that, a manservant,” King Izuku says. “But many have refused the role, and of those who have not done so immediately, he seems to hold less hatred for you than the rest. It is not usual, but if you were willing to take on the task –”

He’s looking at you hopefully, as though you might fill in the answer for him, let him completely off the hook. You won’t. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“The kingdom would be grateful if you continued to serve Sir Tomura,” King Izuku says. “There is honor in serving a knight.”

You remember what Sir Tomura said to you this afternoon: It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet. You know, too, what King Izuku is doing – offering you as a sacrifice to Sir Tomura, in the hopes that the White Death will be satisfied with you and cease to trouble everyone else. “Is this an order, your Majesty?”

King Izuku looks desperately uncomfortable. The two of you have frozen in the middle of the dance floor, as a new song starts and everyone else pivots around you. You wait for him to say it, to sweep the problem of the White Death away under your skirt. You’re an acceptable sacrifice. Just like the borderlands you grew up in were, for the sake of peace in the kingdom. “I don’t wish for it to be an order,” the king says. “But –”

“I will attend him.” You make the decision quickly, both to preserve the illusion that you had a choice and to avoid any risk that Sir Tomura will hear that you were forced to keep company with him on a regular basis. “It would be my honor.”

“Oh,” King Izuku says, relieved. “Good.”

He leads you off the dance floor, the other dancers moving seamlessly out of his path, and delivers you back to the high table where Sir Tomura sits alone. Everyone else seems to have evacuated the premises. “I have good news,” King Izuku says to Sir Tomura, who’s staring at nothing, again. “Your companion for the evening has agreed to attend you for the entirety of your stay in the kingdom.”

Sir Tomura looks up, surprised. Then his face hardens. “Did she agree, or did you compel her?”

“She agreed,” King Izuku says at once. “She said it would be her honor.”

To King Izuku’s eyes, Sir Tomura’s expression doesn’t change. You can tell by how quickly he makes his excuses, abandoning the high table just like the rest. But you perceive the shift, that same flash of interest you’ve seen a few times now. “Sit down,” he says, and you do. “It would be your honor?”

“Yes, my Lord.” You suppose there’s honor in completing a task that no one else dares to – and more than that, honor in serving the man who spared the kingdom, regardless of the means by which he spared it. “It is not usual. If you would prefer a male servant –”

“If I must have a servant, I prefer one who is not so obviously repulsed by me.” Sir Tomura drains his glass of wine. “If that is you, so be it.”

“It’s me,” you say. Sir Tomura takes your glass of wine, which you’ve barely touched, and drains it, too. “My Lord?”

“I’m tired of this,” he says abruptly. “Show me the way back to my room.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Sir Tomura stays upright for most of the walk to his room, but when the alcohol strikes him at last, it strikes hard. You’re not unused to escorting drunken nobles back to their rooms and helping them prepare for bed, always poised to flee if the nobles in question decide they require company for the night. Sir Tomura, unlike the other nobles, has no nightclothes to change into and no paint or ornaments to remove from his skin and hair. He strips off his shirt so quickly that it tears, pulls off his boots, and falls onto the bed in his breeches and nothing else.

He recoils upright instantly. You see the scarcely healed skin over the cursed wound on his chest strain, nearly crack. “What are these?”

“The bedclothes?” you ask, puzzled. “I put them on earlier. You watched me.”

He runs his hand over them, disconcerted. “This isn’t wool.”

“It’s silk,” you say. “It’s meant to feel that way.”

The High Kingdom’s weavers produce more than tapestries. Typically when a new noble arrives, a fresh set of sheets is woven for them, but no one took such pains for the White Death, so you scavenged scraps of unused silk and pieced them by hand with your small magic, adding more and more until you had a full set of sheets for Sir Tomura’s bed. You meant to make a canopy, too, but then Hakamada caught you and chased you out. Sir Tomura considers the sheets as one might regard a snake about to strike before warily folding back the covers.

He recoils again when his head hits the pillow. You’ve never seen someone look so ill at ease with even this pale shadow of luxury in all your life.

He’s ill at ease, but tired, too. You can see it. “Is there anything else you require, my Lord?”

“No.”

“Then I will return at dawn,” you say, and curtsy. “Sleep well, my Lord.”

He doesn’t answer. When you look back again, he’s staring up at the ceiling, eyes open but blank. You need to find a canopy tomorrow. A canopy, and a pane of glass for the window, and more than one set of clothing – and doubtless dozens of other things you won’t think of until their absence makes itself conspicuously known. There’s much for you to do in order to ensure that your Lord is treated just as well as the others in the High Kingdom, who have done far fewer terrible deeds but not nearly as much good as the White Death did when he slew the Enemy and spared the world.

You lift Sir Tomura’s shirt from the end of the bed, noting the tear at the shoulder. Your magic is good for this much, at least. You run your finger along one edge of the tear and draw the fabric back together, doing everything to match the color of the join to the rest of the shirt. You’re unsuccessful, as usual. Still, it’s likely that Sir Tomura’s hair will hide the mark the next time he wears the shirt, and even if it doesn’t, silver isn’t the worst color one could choose.

You lay the shirt out on the end of the bed and fold it neatly. Then you turn to go, leaving your Lord to sleep his first night in a room that’s not quite so empty as before.

You return to Sir Tomura’s room bright and early, only to discover that he’s barely slept and in the full throes of a hangover. His terrible mood is the closest you’ve seen him get to the rage he’s famous for, but you’ve heard and seen Sir Katsuki do and say far worse. “What is it?” your Lord snaps at you, after you’ve brought him a cup of water and he’s taken a few sips. “What do they want now?”

“The king has called an emergency meeting of his council.”

“So?”

“My Lord, you sit on the king’s council,” you remind him. The exasperation that descends over Sir Tomura’s features could almost make you laugh. “I believe it concerns the borderlands.”

Sir Tomura rubs his eyes, and you notice the scar that runs over his right eye for the first time. For a moment, you think he’ll heed the summons. Then he lies back down. “No.”

“My Lord, the king takes his council meeting very seriously,” you caution. “If you don’t appear, Sir Ejiro will be sent to retrieve you.”

“To retrieve me?”

“I once saw him throw Sir Katsuki over his shoulder and carry him to the council chambers by force.” You watch as Sir Tomura’s eyes widen. “I imagine my Lord would like to avoid that.”

“If King Izuku imagines that any of his minions could retrieve me to somewhere I don’t wish to be, he’s lost his mind.” Sir Tomura eases his way to a seated position, grimacing the entire way. “When is it?”

“On the hour.” You add a timepiece to your mental list of items you need to procure for Sir Tomura’s room. “With your permission, my Lord, I’ll bring something for you to eat.”

“And another shirt,” Sir Tomura says. “This one is –”

He trails off as he picks up last night’s shirt off the end of the bed. “I mended it,” you say. “I’ll return shortly.”

You curtsy, then duck out of the room, hurrying to the kitchens. They’re busy when you arrive, courtesy of the maids and squires of the nobles who, like Sir Tomura, indulged enough at the feast last night to sleep through breakfast. You survey the choices available, dismayed. You should have paid more attention to what Sir Tomura ate last night, rather than simply being pleased that he ate at all.

News of your new assignment has already spread to your fellow servants. “I heard the White Death asked for you specifically,” Lord Denki’s squire Minoru says. “Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Lady Tsuyu’s maid Setsuna says. “It was the king who asked, wasn’t it?”

“The king asked?” Neito, who squires for anyone who’s yet to choose a squire of their own, is aghast. “What on earth did you do?”

“Nothing,” you say. “What I was asked. Nothing more.”

“You said it was an honor,” Lord Shoto’s squire says. You glare at him, and Hanta lifts his hands in supplication. “How could you say anything else with the White Death breathing down your neck?”

“He wasn’t there,” you say. No one is listening to you. Your fellows want to know what it was like to dance with the king, or else they want to know how you managed not to faint or vomit from the sheer horror of holding Shigaraki Tomura’s hand. Once the conversation shifts into speculation, it no longer needs you. You gather a few food items at random and hurry back to the deserted wing, hoping Sir Tomura will have put on a shirt and sobered up by the time you arrive.

He has, just enough. He doesn’t know where the council meets, so you escort him, walking a few steps ahead while he chokes down his breakfast. At the council chambers, he steps through the door without a word to you, and you’re on your way before it swings shut behind him. You don’t know how long the council meeting will run – given the issue rumored to be at hand, it could run for some time – and you need to accomplish as much as possible before Sir Tomura returns.

New clothes will take the longest. You catch up to Hakamada as he returns from breakfast for a short conversation, one which neither of you enjoy very much. He insists that he cannot make anything for Sir Tomura until Sir Tomura selects colors and a coat of arms, and you insist that Sir Tomura needs clothing first and foremost. The person who wanders into the midst of the conversation silences you both at once.

Hakamada bows low at the waist, while you drop to your knees, forehead to the flagstones. “Your Grace.”

“Please rise,” the old king, Toshinori, says. Hakamada straightens; you risk a glance upwards. “I heard raised voices. What was under discussion?”

“New clothes for the White Death –”

“For Sir Tomura,” you correct.

“Which cannot be made until he chooses colors and a coat of arms!”

“Is that all?” the former king asks. Hakamada nods. “There are many existing coats of arms, and many colors to go with them, that are no longer bound to a lineage. We three shall choose one for Sir Tomura.”

You feel as though you shouldn’t be part of such an important decision, but you’re certain that Sir Tomura won’t care one way or the other. You follow the former king’s command to rise, and follow he and the tailor to the castle library. Hakamada is much more comfortable in the king’s presence than you are. Comfortable enough to speak. “Your Grace, should you not be at the council meeting?”

“The decisions to be made belong to young Izuku and his council, not to me.” The old king lifts a heavy book down from a high shelf, his arms shaking. “Here. These are the houses which have died out. Today we shall bring one back to life.”

Some of the devices and names in the book are easily recognizable, described and mentioned many times in the High Kingdom’s histories. Others are completely unfamiliar to you. The old king turns past page after page, then stops at one. “Shimura,” he says aloud. “Yes. This is the one.”

“Your Grace,” Hakamada says, startled or scandalized. “That name –”

“Is past due to be revived,” the old king says. He turns the book towards you. “Will this suit your lord?”

You study the device sketched in the book. It’s a grey background, ringed in red at the edges, with the blue shadow of a solitary tower at the center. It clearly means something to Hakamada, something he doesn’t approve of, but to your uneducated eyes, there’s nothing particularly offensive about it. And you know that Sir Tomura cares little for such things. You nod, and old king Toshinori smiles.

He was famous for his smile when he ruled, how bright and wide and fearless it was, but now his face is gaunt and angular, his eyes sunken, proof that his temporary victory in the battle against the Enemy did not cost him nothing. Your former kings and queens may have failed, as Sir Tomura said. But as you said in response, they tried, and to your mind, that counts for something.

Hakamada departs at once, mumbling about work to be done; while he would obfuscate and deny you, he would never dream of refusing the old king. The old king turns to you, and you sink into a curtsy. “Rise,” he instructs, and you do. “You have much to do today, do you not?”

“Yes, your Grace. If you will give me leave to go.”

“Where to next?”

You wish you had written out your list rather than trying to hold it in your mind. “A timepiece for my Lord’s room.”

“Ah, yes. Come with me,” the old king says. “I’ll assist you in choosing one.”

You meant to simply look through the room where broken objects are kept, searching for one that you could repair to look like new, but the old king leads you through the palace to the place where – “Fear not,” the old king says hastily. “Mirai is far more than a soothsayer.”

“And hardly that, these days.” The king’s fortuneteller has been reincarnated under many names, but he’s carried the name Nighteye in each life. “I am good for little more than crafting these days. Come inside. I have been expecting you.”

Your stomach lurches. “You have?”

“Of course. The White Death’s rooms are missing many items, and a conscientious servant would naturally seek them out.” Nighteye beckons you inside, and the king steps through the archway into his workshop. You follow him. “Here. This will serve.”

The timepiece he holds out is the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen, let alone touched – all silver and mother-of-pearl and pure white sand in its spun-glass chambers. You’ve seen larger timepieces when you’ve cleaned other nobles’ rooms, but none like this. “It will turn naturally with the passing of each hour. You will not need to adjust it.” Nighteye gestures for you to take it, and you hesitate. “If it’s my magic you fear, child, you need not do so. It has forsaken me.”

The old king clucks his tongue. “That is untrue.”

“My prophecies have never faltered,” Nighteye snaps at him. “For one to fail so catastrophically –”

“It did not fail,” King Toshinori says mildly. “A mighty kingdom was indeed brought to ruin. We had simply expected it to be ours.”

You had a similar thought. It eases your mind somewhat to hear it echoed by the old king, but you still don’t want to touch Nighteye. You’ve heard too many tales of those who touched him going mad from what they learned, collapsing under the weight of a fate they couldn’t imagine. Whatever your future is, you’d rather it remained a mystery. “Very wise,” Nighteye comments. He hands the timepiece to the old king instead, who does not flinch when their fingers brush. “Although perhaps unnecessary. Whatever purpose brought you to Castle Ultra, it seems you’ve uncovered it.”

You don’t know what he means by that, and you’re more than happy to leave him to his work. You’d like to leave the old king to whatever work occupies his days, but King Toshinori accompanies you from errand to errand, until your arms are full and you can’t carry any more. He looks you up and down, mild concern on his face. “May I assist you?”

“No, your Grace.” You’ve heard rumors of the old king’s fragile health, and seen blood trickling from the corner of his mouth on occasion. “Your Grace?”

“Yes, child?”

“Why – um – Sir Tomura –” You’re embarrassingly incoherent, sounding not at all like someone with a right to ask questions of the old king. “Why would you assist me with him? Everyone else –”

“Everyone else is young,” King Toshinori says softly. “I have no great age, but I was a grown man before King Izuku’s eldest councilors had left their cradles, and I remember well the terrible threat the Enemy posed. I faced him at the height of his powers, believing I would do anything to destroy him. But when the time came, there was one step I refused to take, one boundary I did not cross. Do you know what it was?”

“Dark magic.”

“Indeed,” the old king says. “I weighed the corruption of my own soul against the fate of my kingdom and decided in favor of myself. That is why One For All broke in my hands. It can be wielded only by one who is pure – not of heart, but of purpose, bent on a single goal.”

He smiles sadly. Even his gentlest smiles have the look of a death’s-head grin. “Your young Sir Tomura did what I dared not. Regardless of his reason, he bore the curse that should have befallen one of us. It is unpopular to say, perhaps, but I believe he deserves a warmer welcome than he has been given.”

You feel an unexpected surge of gratitude for the old king. Although you’re certain Sir Tomura will have little patience for it, there’s something reassuring in the knowledge that someone else sees what you see, approaches the matter of Sir Tomura in the same way as you do. You curtsy, as best you can with your arms full, and the old king nods. “Run along, child. I imagine you wish to complete your work before King Izuku’s council meeting concludes.”

Yes, you would. You would like for Sir Tomura to have a habitable space to return to, today. You curtsy again for the king and hurry off to the deserted wing of the palace once more.

When you arrive, the door stands open, and there’s someone inside. You asked her to be here, but you told her not to go in until you got there, on the off chance that Sir Tomura would be back already – and you should have known that Mei wouldn’t listen. She looks up at the sound of your footsteps. “Tell him to bring that breastplate down to the smithy. The damage can be repaired.”

“He doesn’t want it repaired,” you say.

“Then steal it when his back is turned and bring it yourself,” Mei says impatiently. “A knight needs a suit of armor, and an armorer. The name of the White Death’s favored smith will go down in history alongside his own, and my craftsmanship is equal to this task.”

She taps her knuckles against the ruined breastplate, then turns to you. “The fixtures in the bathing chamber are functional. The basin itself will need mending, but you can do that. What else is there?”

“The window,” you say. Mei nods brusquely. “Thank you.”

You set the items you collected down on the end of Sir Tomura’s unmade bed – something else to attend to before he returns – and help Mei replace the windowpane. She uses her magic to size the sheet of glass appropriately, while you use yours to seal the edges to the stone frame, tightly enough to keep out both chill and heat. “The White Death,” Mei muses. “Is he as terrible as the legends describe? They say he utters dark spells as easily as he breathes.”

“I’ve heard him say no spells,” you say. “But I have known him for only a day.”

Only a day. It feels but shorter and longer, somehow – the life you expected to lead yesterday morning has twisted beyond recognition, into a shape you never could have guessed. “He is said to be wrathful, too. I have not seen it.”

“You’ve yet to give him a reason, then,” Mei says. “A man isn’t given an epithet like the White Death unless he’s earned it.”

You suppose that’s true. You disbelieve none of the tales you’ve heard of the atrocities your Lord committed, and you think he’d be more likely to exaggerate them than to play them down if you were to ask. Yet at the same time there’s a hollowness to him, a sense that the rage and disdain are shallow, a sense that whatever animated him before is fading away with nothing to take its place. Sir Tomura is a monster, to be sure. Sir Tomura seems more lost to you than anyone you’ve ever met.

“Still,” Mei says, rapping her knuckles against the window and casting a charm to keep the glass forever clean, “when he’s looking to repair his armor, mention my name. He’ll find no one better.”

Mei wasn’t responsible for reforging One For All, but she crafted the wristguards and reinforced boots King Izuku wears into battle, all of them laced with strengthening spells and protective charms. Her magic is expressive, creative, resistant to her control or anyone else’s. Sir Tomura’s shattered breastplate is the sort of challenge she enjoys. You promise her you’ll direct him her way in the unlikely event that he changes his mind, and she leaves, leaving you to the remainder of your tasks.

Making the bed, hanging the canopy and curtains, clearing the last cobwebs out of the corners of the room, arranging the timepiece and the few decorations you’ve procured. You even saw the weavers about a tapestry, but they looked at you as though you were out of your mind. Sir Tomura has done only one great deed amidst a lifetime of horrors, they reminded you, and the tale of that deed has yet to be told. We cannot depict a story that no one knows.

Tapestries will wait. Today you must fix whatever was done to the basin in the bathing chamber. Mei said your magic was up to the task, but you’re not so sure. The cracks in the basin are narrow but numerous, and you start in an arbitrary spot, running your fingers over each edge and filling the space between them. You try to mend with white, with marble just like the rest of the basin’s, but what flows from the tips of your fingers is gold.

The sight of it startles you. You’ve mended with silver, copper, steel, cloth, stone, and wood before, but never gold. It’s a fluke, or so you think, until the next crack you trace mends golden, too. For a moment you’re transfixed by the sight of it. It’s pretty. Prettier than anything you’ve made has a right to be. Too pretty to stare at for long. You get back to work, wondering how long your magic will let you mend things this way. It’ll certainly go back to normal soon.

It lasts long enough to mend the entire basin, and long enough for you to turn your attention to some of the cosmetic flaws in the floor of the bathing chamber. You’re just putting the finishing touches on a long, spindling crack near the door when someone shouts your name. Shouts it once, and keeps shouting, until you get to your feet and hurry out into Sir Tomura’s chamber proper to investigate. “What is it?”

Itsuka, Lady Momo’s squire, stands in the doorway, out of breath and close to panic. “It’s the White Death,” she says, and your stomach clenches. “Sir Katsuki’s challenged him to a duel.”

[spookiesmausoleum]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

I've been listening to the album nonstop so I wanted to put together some starters based on Vessel's lyrical talent - it's going to be a long one. Feel free to mix and match and add context around the quotes! Please remember to specify muse for multis and change pronouns as needed.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃

"I come as a blade, a sacred guardian, so keep me sharp and test my worth in blood."

"I'd turn my walls to gold to bring you home again."

"We act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake."

"You've got me in a chokehold."

"Even if it hurts me, even if I can't sleep, show me the way."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

"I've got a river running right into you - I've got a blood trail, red in the blue."

"Something you say or something you do is a taste of the Divine."

"You've got my body, flesh and bone; the sky above, the Earth below."

"Raise me up again, take me past the edge - I want to see the other side."

"Oh, and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on."

"'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man."

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄

"You won't ever have to talk about it, you'll never wanna talk about it."

"You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet."

"Never mind the death threats, parting at the door; we'd rather be six feet under than be lonely."

"You only drink the water when you think it's holy."

"You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave."

"You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need - But I am."

𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀

"Well, my love is an animal call; cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls."

"These days I'm a circuit board: integrated hardware you cannot afford."

"Well, my past is a holy book - Between the pain and the way you look, I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook."

"Oh and I am done dancing to alarm bells; no wonder my ears are still ringing."

"I am done fighting off change."

𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄

"You have become the voice in my head."

"My life is torn, my bones, they bleed - My metaphors fall short in the end."

"Are you in pain like I am?"

"Will we remain stuck in the throat of Gods? Will the pain stop if we go deeper?"

"I want to go where nobody else will ever go."

"Follow me between the jaws of fate."

"I want to have you to myself for once."

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

"I know what you want from me."

"You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception … Setting you free; so you'll take what you want and leave."

"Who made you like this?"

"Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?"

"Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy. Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen."

"Won't you come and dance in the dark with me?"

"Show me what you are, I am desperate to know."

"Be the first to the feast, let's choke on the past."

"And I know what you want from me … You want the same as me."

"You make me wish I could disappear."

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?

"I caught you reading by the sunrise; you wandered from the path through the silence of the hillside."

"Are you really okay?"

"I saw it in your eyes; cutting deeper than the scars could run."

"I want to help you but I don't know how."

"I cannot fix your wounds this time."

"I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine."

"Please don't hurt yourself again."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

"Why are you never real?"

"I know that you will disappear just as I awake."

"Somewhere in the past, something was between you and I, my dear."

"No matter what I do this scar will never fade."

"I make the most of the turning tide."

"Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time you turn up in the reveries of my mind."

"The shifting states you follow me through are unrevealed."

"Just let me go or take me with you."

𝐃𝐘𝐖𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐌

"Do you pull at the chains? Or do you push into constant aching?"

"Do you wish that you loved me?"

"Is there something you give that you will never receive in return?"

"Why are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?"

"Can you ever forgive yourself?"

"I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could."

"My reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should."

"Maybe it's not that you conceal your feelings, it's just that they just don't exist"

"Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people?"

"Is it better to just not feel?"

"I've tried so hard to fix it all, but nothing seems to help, but I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

"Smile back at me, please."

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

"I almost became just a stoic statue, fit for nobody."

"The vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me."

"Just like the rain you cast the dust into nothing, and wash out the salt from my hands."

"Touch me again."

"Will you cleanse me with pleasure?"

"I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent."

"I'm tangled in your trance and I'm certain that you've got your hooks in me."

"I know that I am what I am; the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb."

"Maybe it's all just a game."

"When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name."

"Rain down on me."

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍

"I see you drifting past the fog, but no one told you where to go."

"We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans, but no one told me not to breathe."

"My, my, those eyes like fire - I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre."

"I'm a waking Hell and the Gods grow tired."

"Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire."

"Take me back to Eden."

"I need you to see me for what I have become."

"we've no idea what we've got until we lose it. And no amount of love will keep it around if we don't choose it."

"I don't know what's got its teeth in me but I'm about to bite back in anger."

"No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence."

𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐃

"I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning and a heavy head that won't stop turning."

"Give me one last ride on a sunset sky lane."

"I can feel the walls around me closing in."

"I hope to God you don't know this feeling."

"Yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry; a parallel I would lay my life on."

"If your wings won't find you Heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone."

"I need to leave this part of me behind."

"Do you still believe that nothing else matters?"

"For me: It's still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies that we used to lay beneath."

"We tangle endlessly like lovers entwined."

"You will not be mine."

"The Night Belongs to You."

[chaosvelvox]

bite me: vampire! reader x hwang yeji

cw: mentions of choking, blood, monsterfucking

tags: choking, blood, monsterfucking, vampire reader

yeji grew up with the idea that vampires are these hot, sparkling, beings that can control their thirst for blood. having watched vampire diaries and twilight; she got fixated with that thought and had hoped for a vampire to come sweep her off her feet and bite her. 

it’s not that the idea of vampires in the modern world are far fetched but – doing everything she could to be appetizing to vampires isn’t going to make her an automatic target. yeji has since been dreaming of becoming a vampire that she decides to walk around seoul forest in hopes of possibly bumping into one.

half of the time she speculates one of her classmates to be one but turns out they’re just pale.

during her late night walk around seoul forest, a bit tipsy having to come from a party hosted by her friend, yeonjun, she wasn’t expecting to bump into someone. looking at your figure as you hang by a tree upside down like a bat, she expected you to be a vampire but not the specific type she’s looking for.

to her, you seemed playful, hanging upside down and staring at her. maybe you weren’t a vampire and just enjoyed climbing trees in the middle of the night.

“aren’t you quite a fascinating little thing.” maybe it was yeji’s tipsiness that’s playing tricks on her as she notices the way your eyes changed from black to red. in a blink of an eye, you’re already standing in front of her.

maybe it’s the alcohol as she observes your figure, a few inches taller than her, a built figure, skin pale as a ghost, with your red eyes; she doesn’t know whether to believe it or not. smiling at her showing your perfect white teeth - you weren’t a vampire. until you show your fangs to her, that's when she slowly backs away.

this would have been a dream come true but here she is, running away from you with a smile on your face as you stop her in every turn she does. a stupid idea of running away when she knows that vampires have super speed and super strength that even when backed up into a tree with you two inches apart she still believed she could run away.

looking at you closer, as your hand slowly wraps around her neck, ready to suck the living life out of her. yeji couldn’t think straight as she focuses on the way you tighten your hold on her neck or how you’re holding her waist that she feels her stomach twisting, an ache in her core, and a moan slipping past her.

immediately covering her mouth as she looks at you embarrassed and you’re there standing processing what you heard as your hand is still around her neck and one around her waist. wanting to test things out, you pulled harshly on her hair and all you could hear was the most melodious sound in the world. slowly letting your hand run past her hair and grabbing it harshly at the back, fully exposing yeji’s neck, and fangs out – you can’t seem to focus.

“hngg - harder…” pinching the bridge of your nose as you look at her and her flushed out face as she tries to search for some sort of contact from you.

“i have yet to feast and all i’m hearing from you are these – sounds.” letting the hand around her neck go, and pulling her hair harshly as your fangs slowly pierces her neck. the first drop of human blood you had in a while and all you could hear are moans and whines from the girl you just stumbled upon to who is tipsy.

if she weren’t tipsy, she would have run away and thought of a possible way to escape you but she’s just taking everything you’re doing to her as if she’s your personal blood bag. letting her hands roam around your body, one running through your hair and grabbing onto it as you continue to drink her blood. her cunt looking for some friction, with your knee right in between her thighs – she started grinding on you. moaning in your ear and as you finally let go satisfied with the amount of blood you had drank from her. yeji looks at you with such a fucked out state with her mouth agape, a bit of blood dripping from her neck and grinding faster on your knee.

being a bit high on the blood, looking at her and not knowing her name but hearing her thoughts just telling you to fuck her right there and then – how could you resist it.

pulling her hair back as she squirms and stops from grinding, looking at you darkly in a fucked out state with the alcohol still kicking. she looks so pretty that you just want to ruin her, letting your other hand lift up her top and her body shivers from your cold hands as you pin her and place pressure onto her cunt using your knee and she loses it. wrapped around your finger as she squirms under you, letting your mouth do the work as you suck on her hardened nipple while you pinch and fondle with the other.

“p-please…” yeji underestimated how strong you’d be as you lift her up a bit so that her chest would be directly right in your face as her hands hold onto your hair slightly pulling you away as you switch between sucking and biting her nipple. she couldn’t do anything while you’re on top of her as she wraps her legs around your waist and pushes her cunt onto your face as you let go of her nipple with fangs still out and a smile on your face as you admire how swollen one of her boobs are.

“you’re one freaky human.”

“mhmm… i need you, please… please-”

yeji has been losing track of everything happening as you rip her tights that have been drenched by her own cunt as you lift her up and place her legs around your head. she’s like a drug from how she reacts to the way she moves her body, you haven’t met anyone who is like this in a while. maybe keeping her a pet wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[sleepiesttoken]

i was clearly extremely bored so i made a list: sleep token lyrics involving teeth, eating, consuming, swallowing etc. because vessel has a violent oral fixation

under the cut cause it’s kinda long

“you taste like new flesh” - jericho

“dripping from the open mouth, i’ll show you” / “make her eat the tape in the bathroom mirror” - nazareth

“you’ve got diamonds for teeth, my love so take a bite of me” / “but i know you’ve got a taste so just take a bite of me” / “so take a bite, i want to… take a bite” - the offering

“i wanna taste you better” -give

“no more teeth to bite with” - gods

“believe, that though we never eat, we still know how to feed” / “sugar, i’ve developed a taste for you now” / “sugar, i’ve got a taste for you now” - sugar

“show me those pretty white jaws” - jaws

“it’s easier to try not to eat” - atlantic

“sink, sink your teeth, split my skin, no just make me bleed” - hypnosis

“i asked and you answered, but you eat your words in frame” - descending

“as you breathe me out, i drink you in” - telomeres

“when the mouth of infinity, buries its teeth in me, i’ll smile through the agony for you” - high water

“and i’d give anything to borrow your indifference, i’d drink you in” / “to swallow my desire and choke on it” - missing limbs

“the taste of the divine” - the summoning

“between teeth on a broken jaw, following the blood trail, frothing at the maw” - aqua regia

“will we remain stuck in the throat of gods?” / “so let’s get swallowed whole” / follow me between the jaws of fate” - vore

“past what might be eating from the inside, darling” / “be the first to feast, let’s choke on the past” - ascensionism

“and there is something eating me alive, i don’t know what it is” - dywtylm

“come now, bite through these wires” / “grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire” / well, yeah, i spit blood when i wake up, sink porcelain stained, choking up brain matter and make-up” / “and i don’t know what’s got its teeth in me, but i’m about to bite back in anger” - take me back to eden

there’s certainly more but these just scream the loudest

[deus-ex-arcana]

Hi. Jayvik song again. Half algorithm half diety perfect enemy let's choke on the past and take to the broken skies at last etcetc you get the picture. Lyrics under the cut

[Intro] Well, I know what you want from me You want someone to be Your reflection, your bitter deception Setting you free So you take what you want and leave

[Verse 1] Who made you like this? Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language? Synapses snap back in blissful anguish Tell me you met me in past lives, past life Past what might be eating me from the inside, darling Half algorithm, half deity Glitches in the code or gaps in a strange dream Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen

[Verse 2] Won't you come and dance in the dark with me? Show me what you are, I am desperate to know Nobody better than the perfect enemy Digital demons make the night feel heavenly Make it real 'Cause anything's better than the way I feel right now I can offer you a blacklit paradise Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky See Sleep Token Live Get tickets as low as $16 You might also like Take Me Back to Eden Sleep Token The Summoning Sleep Token Rain Sleep Token [Verse 3] Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails, with One eye on the door, other eye on a rail Other other eye following a scarlet trail And the last few drops from the Holy Grail, now Rose gold chains, ripped lace, cut glass Blood stains on the collar means just don't ask Be the first to the feast Let's choke on the past and Take to the broken skies at last

[Bridge] (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) (Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky) Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky

[Breakdown] You're gonna watch me ascend

[Verse 4] And I know what you want from me You want the same as me My redemption, eternal ascension Setting me free So I'll take what I want then leave [Outro] You make me wish I could disappear, no You make me wish I could disappear

[sugar-softies]

Once, long ago, a young dragon crash landed in a storm.

They landed in a farmer’s field, tearing up a row of crops with their slender but dense body. A loss like this could understandably enrage a poor farmer trying to make ends meet during a time of high royal tax and poor weather, but when the farmer’s son found the dragon he was more concerned than anything.

“Here, you can spend the night in the barn.” The young peasant led the dragon to a bed of hay and offered them a baked potato. “Stay as long as you need.”

“You are very kind…”

Stay the dragon did. With a sprained wing and the weather still raging, it was better to stay put and rest.

As they rested, the dragon and the peasant swapped stories, told jokes, and grew closer. So close, that when it was time for the dragon to leave, they both found themselves reluctant.

Sad as they were, the dragon had to go. They needed far more food to sustain such a large powerful body, and the farmers needed all of their crops without any to spare.

So, the farmer’s son gifted the dragon with a farewell gift: a necklace made of elegantly braided rope. It was very loose, dangling down past the dragon’s chest, but it was a lovely gift.

Years passed, and the king grew more corrupt and demanding. Eventually, the farmer sent his son to go and find somewhere else to live, unable to support a family under such fierce taxation. He told his son he hoped he found a land of plenty of peace, and sent him on his way.

The peasant wandered for some time, eventually taking shelter in a cave when a storm passed by.

At first, the peasant assumed the growling he heard echoing in the cave was just the growling of his sunken belly, but after awhile he started to follow the sound deeper into the cave.

To his surprise, he found a whole kingdom of dragons living within.

At first, his presence was received with suspicion, but after a few of them got his scent they realized he had a dragon’s blessing on him, and decided to bring him to their ruler.

The peasant gulped nervously as he was brought into a large part of the cave full of gold and precious gems, but his fear turned to shock and awe when he saw the ruler of all dragonkind.

It was barely recognizable as a dragon, a mound of fat rising and falling with breath, a collection of rotund circles and ovals jammed together in a roughly draconic shape. That was shocking enough, but what really surprised the peasant was the dragon’s throat.

There was an apron of fat draping over a section of neck that had been constricted somehow, and when the dragon ruler saw him coming, they smiled and lifted that apron of fat to reveal a lovely if not aged braided rope necklace fitting tightly there, somehow not choking them.

“You’ve done so well for yourself!” The peasant kicked his legs as he sat on the ledge of the large stone slab that was the dragon’s throne. “I mean… really well.” He blushed as he studied their overfed form.

The dragon laughed. “I have, and I’m glad you’re here to do well too. I’ve always wanted to thank you for your kindness, friend.” The dragon used a nearly fat obscured claw to lift the peasant’s shirt, examining his visible ribs with sadness. “You will be a prince in my kingdom, your every whim will be tended to. This, I promise.”

The peasant’s heart skipped a beat.

“Here, let me get this spot for you, it looks like you might have trouble reaching.” He shyly scratched under one of the fat folds, giggling when it elicited a content purr.

The peasant lived happily in the dragon kingdom, at first politely refusing most of the excess thrust upon him, but soon enough learning it was okay to accept the gifts and feasts the dragons wished him to have. So he accepted more, and more, and more, learning quickly how his friend had grown so large.

They never had to hunt or farm for themselves, food was brought to them in large amounts and they ate out of boredom more than hunger. It was an amazing experience to forget what hunger felt like after being hungry his whole life, and so the peasant’s body began to swell outwards and grow plump just like his friend.

“Nnn-! Nnnnnn…” the peasant struggled on his back, attempting over and over to sit up until he flopped back out of breath and panting. “I can’t- can’t get- I can’t-” he wheezed and then laughed. “I can’t get up…”

“I haven’t gotten up in years.” The dragon ruler shrugged with a smile. “Just have another bite and relax.” The dragon draped a lovely gold necklace over the triple chin where their friend’s neck used to be, then forced another bite of spicy sauce drenched meat into his mouth. “You deserve a life of relaxation, my dear friend.”

[pinkcherryblossomphonecase]

Sugar Crash

(Cooper eats too much candy on Halloween when he was still apart of XY)

Tags: @myluckymoon @oscarsgallery @justsigma-bsd @kijimha @city-of-c0rpses @deeply-moonstruck @doakarma

Never in my life have I ever had to beg for candy. But I was so desperate for some. Normal food and meals were already a privilege to have, but candy, sweets, desserts, was impossible to ever have. If I ever wanted anything remotely sweet, I had to be on good behavior for the entire week, just to earn a single slice of cake or a scoop of ice cream. It was a little reward system to keep me in line.

The only problem was it was the day of Halloween, and unfortunately, I wasn't on my best behavior that week due to an incident earlier during the week. So that means I wasn't allowed to have any candy or sugar as a reward. Normally, I would be fine with this light punishment, but something about Halloween always made me sugar crazy. Like a spell or trance has me in choke hold, and I need to consume candy or else it would be the end of the world for me.

And here I was, quite literally begging on my knees in front of Master X. He was busy doing some paperwork. At first, he looked amused that I would go to the extremes of begging for a few pieces of candy. But after a while, I think I annoyed him enough, or he got bored as he let out, scoffed with a sigh.

"Cooper, stop it. I have work to do, and you're distracting me. Keep this up, and I won't give you any sweets for a month." He harshly stated, mildly annoyed.

"But master you don't understand! I need candy right now! This is a once a year day where my body loses control and goes insane if I don't consume sugar." I plead.

Master rolled his eyes, his hand reaching for the drawer to take out the duck tape he keeps in there to shut me up. "You're not possessed, Cooper. Now quit it."

I reached for his hand and tried to stop him. "Please, just for one day. All I want is some lollipops and chocolates. I'll stop complaining if you let me have this one privilege."

"We don't even have any c-"

"Liar! I saw a whole bag you kept hidden for the others in the closet while I was putting away your laundry!" I yelled in desperation. Normally, I wouldn't dare step out of line like this ever. But I promise you, it was the desperation for candy that drives me this mad. I truly do lose control over myself on this one day.

Master was about to slap me and shut me up with the tape, but I looked at him with pleading eyes. I was determined to win this fight. A bit too stubborn. After staring at me for a while, he gives an annoyed groan.

"Fine. You can have some. Just don't eat the whole damn bag and no sugar for a month afterwards." He scoffed.

I practically bounced and beamed with joy. "YAY! :D THANK YOU MASTER!" I gave a quick hug before running off to get the bag.

Oh what joys it was to rip open the bag and dig around for the good candies. Butterfingers, Tootsies Rolls, Dumbdums, Airheads. It was a dream come true as I munched and feasted on the sugar like it was a fine dine meal.

Master X shouldn't have left me unsupervised. Someone should have kept an eye on me and stopped me. Because I ate and ate like there was no tomorrow. Before I knew it, the entire bag was empty, and I was reaching in for nothing.nothing.

That's when the crash hit and everything just shut down, leaving me on the floor.

I should have been back to doing my chores. But here I was, laying on the floor of the living room, clenching my stomach as I groaned in pain. It's like a train just suddenly hit me and everything in my system has shut down. Talk about sugar overload.

Other members walked by and pasted me, not giving a crap about my suffering. They all gave me a weird look, silently scolding me for eating the entire bag of candy.

Even master came by, but he just shook his head. "I told you not to eat the whole bag. Now, you must face the consequences of your actions. Enjoy your sugar crash. No more sweets for you for an entire month."

"So worth it, though...." I mumbling on the floor, passing out right there. I probably slept there for the night with a bucket besides me. Still worth it in the end.