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eff4freddie · 2 months

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After She Left | Six

Words: 4.5k

Sarah's mom has arrived in Jackson, appearing at the gate injured and with two others in tow. You and Joel deal with the fall out the best way you can, with mixed results.

Chapter warnings: Slow burn. A heated but angsty kiss.

A/N: Thank you for your patience while I worked my way through some personal stuff. This is a shorter chapter and really just covers the immediate aftermath of Shauna's arrival in Jackson. We'll find out more about her and Joel's relationship once the dust settles.

Five | Series Masterlist | Seven

Joel had done a lot of things that had scared him over the years since the outbreak. He’d fought monsters only the most twisted of minds could dream up, had lost friends, had lost family. Had brought Ellie halfway across a dead country to eke out a life of safety. Had kissed you on the steps of the mess hall with your hair all pretty and your lips so red.

None of it was so terrifying as this moment, in Tommy’s tiny little office crammed off the back of the Town Hall, with his gut churning and his hands wringing endlessly in front of his chest.

It had been about as good of a marriage as it had been long. Thinking back on it now he could see they’d just been kids, basically. Barely out of high school, Joel working his first construction job while Shauna went to the community college, and he’d been so proud of her then, working the shift at the library in the mornings and earning all of about $4 an hour, up and reading all night. He’d loved her, he’d known that he had, and that was how he knew what she lost when she gave him Sarah, how abruptly her life changed, how the little screaming bundle of curls he loved in an instant took his wife away.

Tommy was eyeing him, he could feel the eyes of his little brother on him without even turning his head. He kept his eyes on Shauna, studying her face, tracing back the years, catching the threads of time as they slipped through his fingers. She was still pretty, but she was worn out. He supposed he was much the same.

‘The ambush, we weren’t prepared,’ one of the other men were saying, and Joel paid him little attention. Shauna was shivering, her wide brown eyes watching him as he did her, her arm held to her chest in its sling, dried blood on her collar. Almost on instinct he stepped forward and threw his jacket over her shoulders. She gave him the faintest hit of a smile.

‘You alright?’ he asked, quiet.

‘Joel…’ he heard Tommy say, and Joel knew that he was interrupting, that this was an interrogation and not a homecoming. But seeing her again was making him hear an echo of something long, long forgotten. That her eyes were so pretty. That her eyes were so like her daughter’s.

‘Can I see her?’ Shauna asked him, quiet and ignoring everyone else just as Joel was. Joel felt his brows crease, the look of confusion passing over his face.

‘We’d heard rumours of a town out here, a little bit of the real world behind a wall, but we weren’t trying to find you, I swear it,’ the second man was saying. Joel felt his stomach roll, his tongue drying out in the cavern of his mouth. Her, he realised. Shauna wanted to see her.

‘You pass by any infected?’ Tommy asked, moving into the centre of the room, trying to regain some sort of control while his big brother remained out of commission.

‘She’s…she’s…’ Joel tried to say, but couldn’t say it, not in this room and not in this moment, not with his ex-wife from twenty-five years ago wearing his jacket to keep out the cold. It didn’t make sense, the clashing of these worlds, of these times. He felt woozy with it, wondered if he needed a stiff drink or if that would just make it worse.

She was studying his face, expecting and scared and hopeful and surely she knew, surely she would have to figure it out just by the way words were failing him.

‘No infected, just the raiders,’ the second man replied.

‘You’ll have to quarantine,’ Tommy responded, and Joel could feel that he was letting things slip by him, that his brother probably needed him to back him up, needed to be a silent authority figure in the background, menacing and malevolent and just an arm’s length away from a rifle at all times.

‘We don’t even know if they’re staying,’ Maria was saying to Tommy.

‘We can’t throw ‘em out in the middle of the night. Not when it’s her,’ Tommy snapped. Joel could see Maria peering at him, at Shauna, trying to piece things together.

‘Sarah didn’t make it,’ Joel said, finally, settling on words that in no way conveyed the horror of that night, of the magnitude of it. The room around him went silent as the other inhabitants felt the weight shift, sensed a loss was in the room. Joel watched as Shauna’s face contracted into shock, then into disappointment, into sadness. Joel knew that look. Saw it most mornings in the mirror, his failure etched as it was into his skin.

‘When...?’ Shauna asked, her face turning ashen.

‘First night,’ Joel replied, not elaborating, finding himself completely unable to.

‘Oh.’ Shauna replied. She blinked, realising for the first time the rest of the room’s eyes were on her. ‘I thought when I saw you, maybe she…’

Joel shook his head, tried to shake the words loose, tried to knock them out of the air around him.

‘No,’ he said, simply. As if it would ever be that simple.

‘We’ll do whatever you need us to do, quarantine for as long as you like,’ the first man said, stepping towards Shauna, eyeing Joel carefully. Joel stared back at him, blankly.

‘I thought, sometimes, that maybe she was still out there, that maybe she was OK’ Shauna said, her eyes growing wet, finally turning her eyes to the floor. ‘It helped, sometimes, to think she was…just over the horizon.’

Joel swallowed, realising for the first time he had barely been breathing, felt the pull and ache of his chest.

‘Can’t do this now,’ he said, stepping back and turning to Tommy. ‘Can’t do this with her.’

His brother nodded, moving out of the way to give Joel a clear run at the door. Joel heard the snuffling, Shauna’s little gasps for air as he pushed the door open with his shoulder, not trusting the tremble in his hands, felt not for the first time that he had failed to keep Sarah tethered to him, to the living. Had borne witness to another loss of her, had lost her all over again.

Your first thought had been the kids, the alarms bringing prom to a crashing halt. You wanted to make some kind of stupid joke about how all proms ended in disaster one way or another, but it didn’t feel right, and instead you braced your cheeks into a smile and rounded them up in the town square, assuring them all they were still safe, that it was in hand. They had all seen Tommy and a couple of the council walk the new arrivals at gunpoint to the town hall. You weren’t sure if it was reassuring. You watched Ellie watch Joel, the way his shoulders tensed before he seemed to collapse in on himself, his little brother whispering urgently in his ear.

‘Who is that lady?’ Mika asked you, and you looked to Ellie for answers. She shrugged, and you the worry on her face.

‘It’s all in hand,’ you said, pulling Mika’s jacket tighter over his shoulders and spying his mother in the crowd. ‘Go on now, it’s past your bedtime anyway.’

‘I don’t gotta bed time,’ Mika replied, defiant to the last. You smiled, genuinely, at him.

‘I don’t believe that for a second, but lets talk about it Monday.’

You turned to Ellie. ‘Do you want to stay with me tonight?’ you asked, and she looked at you in alarm.

‘Why, is this bad?’ she asked, and you shook your head.

‘No, it’s fine, everyone is safe…it’s just that…’ you glanced over her shoulder to where the strangers had been frogmarched. ‘…that looks like it might take a while, and it’s already getting late.’

‘I can handle shit without Joel,’ Ellie huffed at you, and for a moment she looked so much like your sister you had to close your eyes, blink the memory out of them.

‘OK,’ you said, hands raised. ‘I just thought if you wanted company…listen, any time you want to come around you can, I don’t mind.’

Ellie thought for a second, following your gaze to the town hall. There wasn’t any shouting, any sounds of distress. It was likely safe, you knew that. You watched her calculate.

‘I can come by in the morning. I’ll come by to check on you,’ she offered. You felt a warmth in your chest.

‘I’d really appreciate that, thanks Ellie,’ you said. She nodded at you, happier now that her role as protector was assured.

‘Good night,’ she said. You watched as she turned back to her house, her eyes on the town hall the whole way, missing the way Dina watched after her until she disappeared out of view.

You took your hands out of your pockets to examine the tremble that you knew had nothing to do with cold. Something wasn’t sitting right, something heavy and hard on your chest, and you had to keep moving to shift it, had to keep jumping from one foot or the other to stop it settling on the bones and collapsing your sternum. She’s Sarah’s mom. You replayed it in your head over and over, heard Tommy’s voice echoing in your mind more than your own. She’s Sarah’s mom. Why did he look so shocked by that? Why did he immediately search for Joel?

You weren’t going to sleep, and you didn’t want to go home just to bounce against the walls on your own. You turned, the gate rearing up in front of you.

Billy greeted you with a grunt when you rounded the top of the ladder.

‘Not a great outfit for watching,’ he said, and you looked down at Maria’s dress, noticed a run in your stockings. You felt like you should have been cold but you weren’t, heat on your cheeks and burning in your belly.

‘Figured I might as well help out, make sure that’s all of them,’ you said.

‘I don’t wanna sleep neither,’ Billy said, turning back to the horizon.

‘What happened?’ you asked, fumbling for the old pair of binoculars, the set you preferred for its leather strap. You scanned the treeline, looking for movement in the dark.

‘Just emerged from the left,’ Billy said, motioning to the riverside. You focussed your binoculars and looked for tracks in the dirt, as if you could count the sets from this distance. ‘Come out waving, weren’t sneaking up on us. Were looking for my attention.’

‘For help?’ you asked, and Billy grunted. ‘The woman is hurt,’ you said.

‘Patrol’s going out at first light, check out that way, make sure it’s not an ambush.’

‘Trojan horse,’ you said, quietly.

‘Yeah, they’ll take a few of the horses, right enough,’ Billy said, and you smiled, privately.

��You did some good work, Billy,’ you said, turning to him and examining his side profile. You had no idea how old he was, being that the apocalypse tended to age everyone ten years in a day, but you had to guess he was in his 60s. He’d been the one to open the gate for you on that first day you’d arrived, and he’d done it without suspicion and without fanfare, and all these years you had wanted to ask him why, why he didn’t interrogate, why he didn’t hesitate, but you weren’t sure what his answer would be so you preferred instead to believe that he’d seen something in you, that you’d reminded him of a lost relative, maybe even a daughter, that he had seen in you no ill will, no thirst for destruction. That he had just liked you, without being able to say why, but that alone was enough to let you in.

‘Ah, they practically came to me,’ he said, and you knew that the compliment had made him uncomfortable. He went quiet, turning to examine the right side. ‘You ever see Tommy move that fast?’ he asked, after a while. You shook your head.

‘Scares me a little,’ you said, flexing your fingers to try and get the shakes out.

‘Mmhmm,’ Billy replied.

You heard footsteps approaching the gate, heavy and fast, but Billy had heard them first and was calling down the ladder. ‘We locked down,’ he called, his voice firm in the quiet of the night.

‘Let me out, Billy,’ Joel’s unmistakable voice grunted out, and you felt a flip in your tummy. You couldn’t see him from this angle, but you could picture him standing at the gate, one knee cocked to the side and his hands on his hips.

You watched Billy’s shoulders slump. He didn’t want to get into it, not at what had to be close to 2 in the morning and definitely not with Big Bad Joel Miller at the bottom of the ladder.

‘Can’t, council orders,’ Billy replied, swallowing. You swore you could hear Joel roll his eyes. ‘For everyone’s safety, y’understand,’ Billy went on.

‘I gotta check the perimeter, make sure…figure out if it was them.’

‘Patrol’s going out in the morning, talk to your brother about going out then.’

‘Ain’t waiting for them,’ Joel grunted. You shuffled over peer down at him, leaning over the railing to spy him without him seeing you.

‘Y’know I can’t let you-’

‘GODDAMNIT,’ Joel yelled, loud enough to knock snow off the highest peak and cause an avalanche to bury the whole sorry lot of you. ‘Let me out Billy, or I swear to God I will shoot my way out.’

‘It’s dark, Joel,’ you said, reacting with your spinal cord to the sound of his distress, stepping onto the first rung of the ladder and practically sliding your way to the ground. When you turned he was pacing, glaring at you. A wild animal, caged.

‘Don’t, not with you,’ he said, a sneered little warning that you immediately ignored.

‘It’s late, Joel, and it’s dark. You won’t see anything.’

‘I need to check the perimeter,’ he said, again, the muscles in his neck straining to contain his frustration, his fear.

‘We’re watching the treeline,’ you said, trying to appease him, and he paced again, three steps left and three steps right, both the pistol and the hair trigger.

‘Listen to me,’ he said, rounding on you with dark eyes, flinty and sharp. You saw it, then. Big Bad Joel Miller. You swallowed, willed yourself not to break his gaze. ‘There was something out there, weeks ago, you remember?’

You nodded, reminding yourself to relax your shoulders, to harden yourself to him.

‘There were tracks, within the perimeter, and I couldn’t tell how many sets…but I was damn sure there was more than one.’

You figured you just needed to keep him talking, that if he kept yelling at you at least he wasn’t trying to rip apart the gate with his teeth.

‘It was something, I fuckin’ told Gollum it was something. I don’t even know if it was them! But I gotta see, I gotta check it out.’

‘Joel, they’re patrolling first light…’ you tried, but he turned his shoulder to you, focusing back on the gate.

‘And if it wasn’t them then, who got to ‘em?’ he asked, but this time he was talking almost entirely to himself. ‘Who nearly took her? Who busted her arm?’ he said, after a long moment. You watched as the crack emerged up his middle, all of the anger starting to seep away. He turned back towards you, eyes on the ground and his brows saddled, his face nearing collapse.

‘Who is she, Joel?’ you asked, stepping in to his space to try and get him to look at you, wanting to put your arms around him, hold him close to you, tremble and shake against each other, let the friction arc bolts of lightning into the dark above your heads. He shook his head, but you took another step forward. ‘Who is Sarah?’ you asked, and gasped when his eyes snapped to you, his whole body rearing up on you like a snake leaping for its prey.

‘Not you,’ he said, and you swallowed, felt the tears welling up hot and desperate and pathetic behind your eyes. He gripped you by the biceps, almost but not quite hard enough to bruise. ‘You don’t say her name.’

You could hear your breath, high and tight, feel the pull across your throat. His eyes bore into you, and this close to him you could smell his cologne, watch his jaw tic as he gripped his fear in his teeth.

‘Joel,’ you whimpered, not scared of him, knowing in your heart he would never hurt you, but nevertheless feeling him slipping from you, watching him retract, the warmth gone in his eyes.

‘She doesn’t exist in this world, not with you,’ he said, again, and you found yourself nodding, not understanding, trying frantically to agree, to acquiesce, to pull him back from the cliff if you could only fucking see the jagged shore.

‘Who is she, Joel?,’ you asked, and he pulled you in then, one hand wrapping to press into your back so that you crashed into him, his lips soft and quivering, little whimpers catching in his throat as he kissed you, pushed his tongue to open you, let you taste it, the terror and the grief, the loss of her, the acid and the sour, the acridity at the core of him, clambering up into his throat.

He pitched his anchor, prayed it would catch somewhere in you, that you would tug on the line and reel him in, pull him ashore and wipe the seawater from his eyes.

Blood splashed over a pink and purple tee-shirt. Curls caked with blood and mud.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, reality closing back in on him, the wash of the brine gathering at your ankles. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, because he wasn’t sure what he was sorry for except for all of it, because he couldn’t feel anything except for a pervasive remorse, just that everything had changed because nothing had, because Shauna was back and he had lost Sarah all over again when she did, twenty years and this one day saddled with her ghost. Because he was going to hurt you, even though he desperately didn’t want to, because you were so warm and you burned so bright and he was going to steal it from you, tuck it away between his ribs and cauterise his wounds with it. Because it wasn’t fair on you, so soft and so pretty and so snug in his arms. Because he wanted you, and because that never led anywhere he should be going. Not for him. Never for him.

You felt his grip loosen, felt him withdraw and step back. If you kept your eyes closed you could feel the linger of his kiss, of the scratch of his beard on your cheeks. If you kept your eyes closed you could still hear him, his gasps as he kissed you, the rustle of his jacket as he moved his arm to circle your back. If you kept your eyes closed you could ignore the sound of his receding footsteps, not have to see his back retreat from you as he hurried away.

Rose was the good sister, you knew this. There were times when you would have happily snapped her neck just to keep her quiet, others when you would have razed an entire township to the ground if anyone looked at her funny. You were her protector, her older sister, and you knew the moment she arrived squawking and indignant into the world that she was your reason. Keep her safe. Keep her alive. Keep her free.

It meant that while you were off making the tough decisions, off fighting the bullies back, off coming up with lies to feed her teachers as to why she was late to class again, she was in the world sweet, and loving, and open. Crying over dead baby birds in the driveway. Throwing still-wrapped granola bars into the trash in the belief that somehow it would get to a homeless person who needed it more. Doling out second chances to boys who hurt her like her pillow wasn’t saturated to the fibres with her tears.

She was better than you, kinder. When she was gone you struggled without a reason, still did on nights like this. You used to think her gentle nature was a weakness, and the last twenty years had shown you how wrong you were. That the strength she took to bend would have broken so many others. Including you.

You lay in your bed, listening for more alarms even as the sun rose over the mountain. You didn’t need Joel. You didn’t need anyone. Had got this far on your own. Thought back to the months you spent wondering on your own, no place to go, surviving just out of habit. That it led you to Tommy in the middle of the night, then to Jackson, then to home.

You were lonely but you were also used to it. You were forgetting the privilege loneliness was while others fought for their lives, for the safety you had enjoyed now for years. Selfishly held to your chest and then neglected the gift you had been given at the end of the world. You tossed and turned in your sheets, each side of your pillow too hot on your skin. If you had stripped off your shirt and examined your back in a mirror you wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see scorch marks where Joel had held you.

You weren’t Rose. So much of your life was proof of that.

The patrol came back the next morning reporting clear perimeters. You weren’t on the wall, but you heard the ripples of relief, felt the shift in the air as the town relaxed around you. If it was just the three of them, Shauna and the two men, and maybe they really had been just desperate and in need of help. Maybe there really was no threat. Maybe now the town could catch its breath.

You weren’t really expecting to see Ellie, assumed that she would be subsumed in the chaos of the night before, so you were genuinely surprised when she knocked on your door.

‘Promised to check in,’ she said, but she looked tired, and you wondered how much sleep she’d had, her alabaster skin already pale but ghostly now, in the warming morning light.

‘You want a coffee?’ you asked, leading her into your kitchen.

‘Blech, no fuckin’ way,’ she replied.

‘Did Joel…did you speak to Joel?’ you asked, and she half-nodded, half-shrugged.

‘He wasn’t exactly talkative,’ Ellie said, and you nodded. You had been coping on so little sleep but now suddenly with a teenager in your kitchen you felt the pull of gravity on your muscles. Your eyes stung, dry and swollen.

Ellie watched you as you hovered by the fridge. You felt like you should be fixing her something, but you were finding it impossible to. You looked in your pantry, unseeing. Eyed the apple you’d had sitting in your fruit bowl for at least the last week.

‘Not exactly talkative. That doesn’t sound like him,’ you half joked, and you watched as Ellie smiled, weakly at you.

‘I mean, it makes sense, it’s a big deal,’ she said, and you felt yourself stiffen. ‘I mean, if the mother of my dead daughter showed up unannounced I’d be…’

You didn’t notice Ellie had stopped talking, that she had come to your side to steady you, that you were swaying a little beside your kitchen counter.

‘He…daughter?’ you asked and watched as the panic spread across Ellie’s face.

‘Oh shit,’ she said, ‘he didn’t tell you.’ You shook your head. ‘He didn’t fuckin’ tell me either, if that makes you feel any better,’ she said, and it did, sort of.

‘I mean, he doesn’t have to tell me anything,’ you said, but you were barely hearing yourself, barely aware of the words even as your mouth formed them.

‘It was…the first day of the outbreak,’ Ellie went on. ‘She was 14.’

You shuddered, a chill running up your spine. ‘Oh, Ellie,’ you said, but she was waving you off.

‘Trust me, I’ve been there already, done the whole dead-daughter replacement thing. It’s not that, I don’t think.’

‘He cares about you so deeply,’ you reassured her, agreed with her, and you watched as the teenage girl in front of you nodded in understanding.

‘I know he does.’

‘He’d do anything.’

‘I know he would, I think he already has,’ she said.

You barely heard her, your brain still trying to catch up, running back over all of your conversations with him, all of the moments in the kitchen, of him cooking for you and insisting you stay to eat, of his loitering and interrupting your tutoring, of his terror for Ellie, of his need to keep his eye always on the horizon because of it.

You wanted to go to him, wrap yourself around him, tuck yourself under his chin and make him promise you it wouldn’t change things. Knew that it would never be the same, knew that your kiss last night was a goodbye, knew that you had felt it then but hadn’t wanted to admit it to yourself. That he had gripped you like his life depended on it, crashed his mouth into yours to try and hold onto a reality already slipping from his grasp.

‘Don’t think they were together when it happened,’ Ellie supplied. ‘He never talked about her.’ Your ears were ringing. You pinched your nostrils shut and blew. It didn’t lessen it. Why didn’t it lessen it? ‘I’m really sorry,’ Ellie said.

You wanted to hold his face in your hands and tell him he was a good Dad. That you saw that in him when you looked at Ellie. You wanted to turn your back on all of it, on him and Ellie and fucking Shauna, wanted to put miles and miles between you and Jackson. Wanted to be with Rose and your Mum and Dad, wanted to lift your hand to the sky and have them take it.

You realised you hadn’t said anything in a while, looking over at Ellie to realise with considerable alarm that she was comforting you, that you were the adult but that she was the one trying to keep you both on the rails.

What would Rose do? Think of that, then do the opposite.

You swallowed, standing up straight and ignoring the way the room swam.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ you announced, to the both of you, turning to the fridge and pulling out supplies to make a sandwich, the ingredients of which you would figure out any minute. ‘You hungry?’ you asked.

‘It definitely is going to be OK,’ Ellie said, eying your back with concern. You turned to her with a block of cheese and a loaf of bread in your hand, and she nodded at you in case you snapped and bludgeoned her to death with it.

‘If it helps, I think he really liked you,’ she supplied.

It didn’t.

Taglist (let me know if you want me to add you)

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fic

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angelynmoon · 1 year

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More eldritch monster Steve, because I have no self control

Part 3

They ask him what he is, well, Erica asks, loudly and quite rudely, but she is his favorite, after El.

El, who looks at him in confusion, with a little blood leaking from her nose, she, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and a man named Argyle arrived sometime early in the morning.

"Why can't I tell?" El asked, head tilting as she frowned.

Steve looked at her, "I'm a very good mimic."

"But what are you?" Will asked, "Even I don't feel the connection."

"You wouldn't." Steve tells him, "You can feel the connection Henry had to the Down Below, everything you and El feel can trace back to him and Dr. Brenner. I have a connection to the Down Below, something deeper than either of them have, because I was born there or because of how long I lived there before leaving, who knows." Steve explained, "As for what I am, I can't tell you that. I never needed a word for what I am before."

"Are there others?" Jonathan asked, which was a good question considering what Steve could do.

Steve looked away, towards the pool, "No. I am the only one like me."

Which had always been true, Steve was unique, but there had been others of his kind once.

Now, however, he was the only one left, but the children didn't need to know that, they didn't need to know that the Down Below was like it was because it was a grave yard of his kind, the vines that ran through it had once been the veins of Steve's race, that the residule life that had once ran through them allowed Henry to control them, though Steve doubted that Henry was the one really in control.

His race was dangerous, he'd always know that, ever since the moment of his first memory, but Steve was dangerous too, he was afterall the one that had killed the rest of his kin.

They'd deserved it, parasitic and destructive, they fed on others of their race if they were strong enough and ate the other creatures in the Down Below if they weren't.

Steve had been the smallest, the one that wasn't a threat, that prefered to chase Demobats and hunt Demogorgans, he had been the one least likely to be a threat.

But all things that live have a breaking point.

Steve's had been his spawn. His kind didn't need partners to spawn, just enough energy and want, and Steve had wanted so much that all he needed was a few good hunts and he had his spawn.

But his kind, like most predators, went after the weak and the young, and Steve's spawn had only him to protect them, while partners were unneeded they usually still paired to spawn, if only to make protection detail easier.

His spawn had been killed and raveged before they even really existed, and Steve, who'd only wanted a family to raise, though he hadn't had the words to understand that, had gone after those who'd taken that from him.

And small, unassuming Steve had quickly become something to fear, laying waste to his own race and leaving them to rot instead of feasting, the worst of the slaughter Steve wrought, the thing that made him more dangerous than all of his race.

Because his anger and destruction didn't come from those he kileed, but from himself, and if that was his own feeling then what would he become if he feasted on the ones he killed, who thrived on the destruction and death that his race was built upon.

No, Steve had always been different, soft, his kind had said, an easy target for an easy meal. And then Steve had proved them wrong, but it hadn't mattered, because by the time Steve's anger had faded into grief and sorrow he'd been alone, the last of his kind, surrounded by the rotting corpses of his kin, the vines left behind too frightened to reach for him, the Demogorgans too wary of the war Steve raged to come out of hiding.

And then a tiny crack had appeared, not much more than a sliver, but enough for Steve to slip through, for him to leave the Down Below and the destruction he'd done, a chance to start over in a world where he could raise his spawn to adulthood, hiding amidst the creatures of the Upper World.

But the children didn't need to know any of that, didn't need to know that their jokes of Steve being their second mom fell a little too close to home on some occasions, because they were his, weren't they, not his blood but they were his spawn just as much as the ones he'd lost because he'd fought for them, got hurt for them, fed them, protected them like a parent should, he'd threatened government officials to keep them from removing Will from Joyce's home, threatened Owens to give Hopper Jane, he'd made sure that the kids got compensated, even Susie, in the form of college funds for each and every time they saved the world from the Down Below, the knowledge he'd picked up from Mr. Harrington finally useful, he'd even gotten Murry something, a few secret conspiracies confirmed, for his assistance.

This was his family, his to protect and Steve wasn't sure what would happen if he failed, truely failed and had to bury any one of his kids, or Robin, or Eddie, who was surprisingly easy to care for, or even Eddie's uncle, who was Steve's merely because that uncle was Eddie's and Eddie was Steve's.

Eddie was Steve's, Steve frowned and looked over to where the kids and Eddie were arguing about what his Dustpans and Dinosaurs name should be. When had Eddie become his, his to protect and keep, and care for.

Steve blinked as he realize it was the moment that Eddie risked his life to protect Dustin.

Spawning was easier in pairs, afterall.

Um... hi.

I'm attempting a tag list, sorry if I forgot you, sorry I didn't tag on the second part, but I posted that before people asked to be tagged, well, I think I did.

Sorry, if I tagged you and you didn't want to be tagged.

Also, I know nothing about dustpans and dinosaurs, sorry, dungeons and dragons

@merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @starlight-archer @0o-mushroom-o0 @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta

#steddie #eldritch monster steve #upside down creature steve #i should name this au #part 3 #From the Rot

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 10 months

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Uncontrolled Instincts: Vergil x Male Reader

MINORS DNI; THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

SERIOUSLY, GO AWAY!

SUMMARY: The eldest son of Sparda has been through many trials and tribulations within his almost fifty years of life. Despite this, Vergil was still learning about the different ways his heritage could bring him to his wit's end-- how it could bring him to his knees and leave him completely and utterly at your mercy.

BEGINNING NOTES: Requested by @kasianthus on Tumblr! (Sorry this took so long--didn't know if should still stage because of that so sorry if you aren't really into DMC anymore in the like year this took lmao sorry) This legit has been sitting half-finished for months (Like this was requested way back on March 5th lmfao); so I figured I should probably finish it lmfao 🦢💧🦢 Top/Dom Vergil x Sub/Bottom Male reader Pre-established relationship Semi-mindless smut with a lil' fluff Lots of smut--like a ton. Rut (Vergil); the reader is unaware of this being a thing in devils Minor scent kink Small masturbation scene (Vergil) Mating/Breeding kink (Possessive of the reader) Biting/Blood (Bleeding?) kink: Vergil bites hard enough to draw blood (he is a devil after all) then does some kind of painful stuff--it’s not very long or anything but I figured it is important to mention. Bruising + Scratching Minor Oral (blowjob; Reader receiving.) Monster fucker stuff; dick sleeve/slit stuff, etc. Devil Trigger sex Overstimulation Knotting 💧🦢💧 >Unrealistic sizes for his Triggered dick(s)--just let me have fun. If you want actual sizes, go to Vergil’s H/C chapter. >Because of the mental state Vergil’s in, he’s a bit sappy--almost reminiscent of V--during some parts. >I used the concept art from DMC 5 as a reference for Vergil’s (regular) Devil Trigger; figured I should put that here to avoid any confusion (since it’s very different from his 3-design and semi-different than his 4-design). Dante’s 5 DT has pupils so Vergil’s does too (even though the concept art doesn’t; neither does Dante’s concept art btw).

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“That is an idiotic suggestion,” Vergil’s lip twitched as he lightly snarled, “Although I shouldn’t expect much else from you.”

“Yeah? Well, if you’re so damned smart,” Dante crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, scowling at Vergil, “Then what’s your plan.”

“I told you,” the blue devil squinted, “I can handle it alone.”

Dante slammed his hands down on his desk and shot up from his chair, “And as I have told you ,” he rounded to the front of his desk, leaning against it slightly, and stood face-to-face with his older brother, “ No, you can’t. ”

The devils stared at one another, growling while exchanging death glares. Amongst the loud snarling, however, a stressed-out sigh could be heard. Lady, who had grabbed a beer, was trying to ignore the twins' incessant bickering. She's been waiting for over an hour for Nico and Trish to swing by and pick her up and she was almost at her breaking point. Quietly, she tapped her fingers against the half-drunk bottle while grumbling to herself. A part of her felt like she was babysitting two toddlers rather than sitting at the establishment of two middle-aged devil hunters. As she raised the bottle to take a drink, a loud commotion behind her caught her attention. Slamming down the bottle, she whipped around with a venomous glare.

With hands wrapped around one another, the twins wrestled momentarily only to be cut abruptly by Vergil slamming Dante’s back through the railing and treads of the staircase. A loud strangled coughing came from Dante as one of the metal bars speared him through the chest, splattering Vergil’s face with a trace amount of blood.

“What is wrong with you two?!" Lady’s tolerance had finally run out, "I just fucking fixed yesterday's damage!” She stood from her seat, arms crossed.

Hearing her irate tone, Vergil released Dante’s neck from his grasp and stood up; not saying a word.

Dante groaned, looking up at his twin, “Lil’ help?” He stuck out his hand which Vergil used to yank Dante back to his feet.

Vergil straightened his coat, “I think I will take my leave for today-”

“Good,” Dante shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand over the gaping hole in his middle, feeling it slowly repair itself, “Can’t stand you being so pissy.”

Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “You are no better, Dante. Both of you are acting like children.”

“I am not,” Dante huffed.

Vergil glared at his brother from the corner of his eye before strutting towards the garage door, “I am leaving,” he stopped after he was slightly past Lady and turned over to his shoulder, addressing her, "Contact me only if necessary.”

With that, Vergil left The Devil May Cry.

Upon opening the front door to your shared home, Vergil instantly felt a heavy hazy heat spread throughout his limbs. He took a slow deep breath as he stood in the entryway, trying to get a hold of himself. Unhurriedly, he hung his coat and slid off his boots, mumbling to himself about his next move. He decided that a shower may ease his mind as he wandered into the cozy co-inhabited home.

The blue devil warily looked around, trying to avoid you. Eventually, he found you in the bedroom, making things difficult, since he needed to stop in there for clothing. He peered in through the door and saw that you were lying on your stomach, reading a book while softly humming. From where he was standing, he got a perfect view of your ass, only worsening his issue .

Vergil shook his head and took a deep breath trying to deter his thoughts; only after which did he realize that getting a deep whiff of your scent was perhaps the worst thing he could do at the moment. He stood with a scrunched face and closed eyes as he tried to ground himself, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming perverse thoughts eating at him, and the fiery feeling spreading to his lower half.

You turned over and sat at the edge of the bed, dangling your legs over the edge, “Hey-! You’re home early,” you flashed him a cheerful smile that quickly fell as you got nothing but silence in return, “Everything alright, Vergil?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Vergil’s eyes avoided yours and his answer was quick and emotionless.

You raised a brow at his seemingly discombobulated reaction, “You sure?”

He nodded and moved to grab some casual clothing from the dresser, “I am going to shower.”

Your brow raised further, “Okay..?”

Vergil looked over to you as if he were going to speak but closed his mouth, turned away from you, and left.

In the brief moments that your eyes met with his, you noticed the small bits of dried blood on his clothes and face. It was probably Dante’s, knowing how much the two had been fighting the past week or so; however, that didn’t make it any better nor did it ease your mind. You slid off the bed, and placed the book on the nightstand, leaving the room. Unhurriedly, you meandered down the hall as you mulled through what could have upset Vergil so much.

As of late, he's been in such a sour mood that he barely even says "Good morning" or "Good night", not to mention the lack of physical affection. He hasn't even been sleeping in the bedroom with you, "preferring” to sleep on the couch. A frown decorated your face as a wicked thought echoed in your mind, "What if he is distancing himself so he can disappear…"

You shook your head, "He'd never do that, he loves me... Right?"

With another shake of your head, you decided that you were going to talk with him once he's finished his shower.

When Vergil entered the restroom, he lazily tossed his change of clothes off to the side and turned the shower faucet as cold as he could. While the water ran, he stripped down and neatly placed his worn clothing in the hamper.

Just being in your presence had made him unbearably hard and was driving him up the wall. It seems even the Dark Slayer isn’t able to conquer his instincts, much to his vexation.

A quiet hiss left his lips as he stepped under the icy water. Vergil’s skin was beyond sweltering, being so hot that it was bothering him; a man whose body runs on average at around 120°F (49°C). The contrast between him and the nearly frozen water created a sauna-esc environment--fog quickly filling the room. As he washed his face off, he stared mindlessly at the wall. He’d never experienced something like this before; and, to be quite frank, it's exhausting. The sheer amount of emotional ups and downs was enough to make him nauseous. Not to mention that he’d been avoiding any sort of affection towards or with you for nearly a week.

It all mixed up into a hellish disaster that Vergil just wanted to end. Tired of the immense toll this was taking on him, in every way possible.

With folded arms, he stood facing the water as a small discontent grumble left his lips. He had hoped that the cold water would have killed his hard-on; however, it didn’t. Now he was just miserably standing under frigid water with a rigid cock.

Vergil let out a low growl of irritation, his face scrunching into a grimace as he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite not being one for masturbation, he decided to try and handle his urges alone. He ran his hands up his face and then slowly back down, sighing loudly. Then he turned around and leaned his forehead against the wall, the water now beating against his back; a feeling that would have most definitely troubled him if he weren’t so worked up.

His brow furrowed as he shut his eyes, placing one hand on the wall and the other around his throbbing dick. Slowly, his hand moved at the thought of what he’d do to you if only you were here harshly pinned between the wall and him.

The feeling of you squirming underneath him as he bit down on your neck. Your groans as he shoves himself inside your tight hole. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling it in ecstasy. How deep and hard he would pound your insides. Growling obscene and perverse comments into your ear and watching you react; feeling you react. Folding you as he bent your legs up as far as he could, his nails digging into your skin.

Vergil wanted nothing more than to claim you --to breed you --to leave you unable to move and full to the brim with his cum.

The blue devil’s face scrunched further with every quickening stroke, trying to reach his peak, “Ngh- ha~” A frustrated whine of a huff escaped his nose as he bit down on his lip.

Unknowingly, he started bucking his hips into his hand in pursuit of the tantalizingly close orgasm. However, try as he may, it never came; all he managed to do was work himself up even further and nearly break his fingers from how hard he was pressing against the tiles.

After what seemed like an eternity, he removed his hand from his cock and just stood there with his eyes closed. He placed his face against his bicep with a deep exasperated inhale, trying to figure out a solution that wouldn’t involve him explaining what was happening.

A soft knock at the door caused Vergil to choke on his exhale, “Vergil, you alright? You’ve been in there for over an hour…”

Although you didn’t care how long he took, it was a bit concerning when his longest shower ever was fifteen minutes . In combination with how he was earlier, you were well within your right to worry.

He felt his cock twitch at the sound of your voice as he ran his thumb across his tip, doing his best to subvert the idea of asking you to join him, “I am fine,” he straightened his posture with a small sigh, “I will be out momentarily.”

The blue devil waited to hear you walk away before he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried off and slid on his black boxer briefs and an indigo t-shirt. Then, as per usual, he went to pomade his hair but found his tin completely exhausted. Vergil balled up his hands, his nails lightly puncturing his palms in anger. In his heated departure from the shop, he had completely forgotten to pick some up before returning home. In a vain attempt at normalcy, he used the dampness from the shower to slick it back.

Then the real issue became apparent. He needed to figure out how to hide his excitement . The blue devil mulled over different ideas as he moved his jaw back and forth. It was then that he noticed he, unintentionally, grabbed a baggy set of grey sweatpants; ones that would be able to hide most of his painfully aching flesh if he wore them just right and tucked himself in a very specific way.

After a few attempts, he managed to get it right and looked at himself in the mirror; it was barely noticeable, allowing him to take a sigh of relief. As he opened the door, he was able to place where you were in the house by the sound of your heart, you were in the living room. Knowing that if he saw you he’d lose the struggle with himself, he quickly slipped into his study; which was right between the bathroom and bedroom.

The Dark Slayer quietly shut the door and turned on a desk lamp. The room wasn’t anything too elaborate or fancy; it only contained three bookshelves, a small desk, and Vergil’s favorite chair. The blue devil grabbed his current book from the desk and sat down, making the plastic ever-so-slightly creak underneath him. With the lick of his fingertips, Vergil paged through to where he had left off in the novel.

After nearly ten minutes of re-reading the same page over and over, Vergil slammed the book shut with a growl. At this point, his body was beyond burning with lust and he wanted nothing more than to soothe his pulsating cock. Moving his jaw in thought, he debated trying to relieve his itch again; however, before he could decide, a gentle knock came from the door.

“Vergil..?” your voice was barely audible.

In a panic, Vergil snapped back, “What?” He scrunched his face and pursed his lips in immediate regret at how he answered.

There was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh, “Never mind, sorry; didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you be.”

As you began to walk away, Vergil bolted up from his seat; upsetting you was the last thing he wanted to do. Opening the door as quickly as possible, he called out to you, “Wait-!”

You turned around; only a dozen or so strides away. With a brow raised in curiosity, you noted how disheveled Vergil looked: between his outfit, hair, and how overall ragged he looked you knew something was wrong. The two of you stood staring at one another for a minute or so; neither of you being sure what to say or do next.

The blue devil turned from your gaze to look down, shifting awkwardly, “I…” he stood with his lips slightly parted and shifted once more.

You took a few steps towards him, “Is something wrong, Vergil?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and tensed his shoulders, “Stay back,” although he intended it to sound commanding, it sounded more like he was pleading.

Your brow creased, “Why?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

The intense aching in his body only worsened by being near you, he scrunched his face trying to block out his insatiable yearning for you, “I can’t-” Vergil looked up from the flooring to you as he spoke softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What does that-” you shook your head, “Vergil, what is going on?” You continued to steadily and carefully approach the high-strung man.

With every step you took, his body tensed up further and further. Part of him wanted to run as far from you as possible, ashamed and afraid of his need; the other wanted nothing more than to slam you against the floor and let into his sinful primal desires. He closed his eyes and took a deep steading breath; doing neither of those things--unintentionally allowing you to get closer.

You stood only two or so strides away and were able to hear a faint growling, “My Love?” When you went to grab his hand, his eyes snapped open.

Vergil jolted backward and hit the still-open study door that was behind him… which broke it right off its hinges with a loud cracking thud. You flinched at the sudden loud noise and pulled your hand back.

He turned to his side slightly to look down at the broken door, “Fantastic…” he then turned back to you with a sigh, “Forgive me, I-”

That’s when he noticed where you were staring at his body.

You squinted and pursed your lips, doing your best to stifle a small laugh, “Is your weird mood cause of that ?” You gestured with your eyes down to his painfully obvious hard-on.

Vergil shifted his jaw and huffed out a meek answer, “It is more than that, I am afraid.”

“Care to share?” you set a hand on your hip and smirked, very much oblivious to the severity of what was going on.

The blue devil shook his head, “No-” A shiver ran up his spine as he watched you slowly and intensely eye him up, “You’re not going to like the answer.”

“Vergil, we’ve slept together quite a bit,” you gently grabbed one of his hands, “What is so different now?”

His voice was strained as he gripped your hand tightly and paused a moment for a moment before continuing, “This is out of my control.”

“What? Vergil,” you furrowed your brow in confusion, “What does that mean?”

He opened his eyes and stared at you momentarily, using his tongue to play with his teeth in thought.

“Don’t make me beg,” you lightly teased.

“Fine,” Vergil pushed you against the wall, a knee placed right between your legs, and holding both your hands off to your sides, “I want you,” he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I need to--” he paused for a moment in thought, “I need to breed you,” behind his voice you could hear a rumble, telling you how desperate he really is.

He placed small kisses along your jawline and pulled back to look you in the eyes, pleading with you to save him from this torment of self-restraint he has been going through for nearly a week now.

You raised a brow, “And how’s that any different than normal?” You gave him a suggestive sultry smirk.

He cautiously placed his lips atop yours; despite his current affliction, he wanted to make sure that he took things slow--at least, slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt you. The kisses were long, heated, and sloppy. The both of you moved your mouths together in an almost exaggerated manner, perfectly synchronized. Vergil pushed against you and a low rumble filled each of his motions; doing his best to show you how much he needs you. How much he desires you in your entirety; mind, spirit, and body. How much he wishes to consume your frail humanity and turn you into his sinful plaything.

The blue devil’s grip tightened around your wrists as he fought his urge to demolish you right here and now. The heat from his body was overwhelming. Both he and you were acutely aware of it, a very thin line of sweat adorning the two of you. Vergil pushed his leg up further between your legs, lovingly nudging your slowly growing arousal, listening to the faint groans you gave.

After a few minutes of these slow impassioned kisses, he slid his tongue into your mouth. Excitedly he explored every bit that he could. Though Vergil had tasted your sweet tongue many times before, he always had the same amount of giddiness as he did the first time. His growling had become prominent enough that you could feel it within your mouth; a new, but welcomed, feeling.

With a gentle roughness, Vergil bit at your lips and tugged on them, which you lovingly returned. A small smirk decorated his lips as he let out a happy huff against you before diving into another plethora of fiery lustful kisses. With each languid motion of his plush lips against yours, his grip tightened around your wrists; gradually losing the arousing factor and becoming painful--you weren’t even sure if he realized that he was doing it.

Breaking away from his lips for a brief moment, you let out a low hiss, “Vergil, that kind of hurts,” you squirmed against his hold.

He stood there with his forehead against yours, loosening his grip slightly. With a low husky growl of a voice, he whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, “I need more,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “Please.” His eyes met with yours, they were heavy and glazed over; he wasn’t asking you, he was begging .

“Just--” You did your best to stay calm, knowing that Vergil was far from it, “Give me a minute to get ready and I’m all yours..?”

A small displeased grumble left his lips before he bit at your lower lip, pulling it slowly, then whispered against you, “You’d best hurry,” he released his grip on your wrists, “Best not to keep me waiting,” he turned and walked towards the bedroom, leaving you in a confused light-headed daze.

Once within the bedroom, he grabbed the nearly empty lube from the side table and set it on the tabletop. Absent-mindedly, he began to tap his foot, doing his best to ignore his slowly thinning patience. Vergil was still rather uneasy about informing you about what was truly going on. The two of you had been romantically involved for many years now, but it was only within the past year that the two of you had become sexually involved. In hindsight, Vergil regrets not explaining the consequences of doing so.

The consequences of mating with a devil.

A nearly inaudible creak in the floorboards caught Vergil’s attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Instantly, the blue devil was upon you and was as close to you as possible, his lips connected with yours once again. With a startled moan, you grabbed his biceps and felt him dig his fingertips into your sides as he tried to pull you impossibly close.

Not giving you a chance to think, Vergil moved you over to the bed and had you pinned beneath him. Using one of his hands, he held both of yours above your head as he stared down at you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, thumbing over your skin slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

The blue devil’s hand drifted down your neck and to your chest, “I am sorry for this.”

“For what?” You tilted your head.

Without answering, Vergil leaned down and bit down on your neck. A sharp pain caused you to flinch and let out a low groan. He’d pierced through your skin and was working his teeth further into your flesh. It was uncommon for Vergil to make marks where others would be able to see them, but he never has drawn blood or bitten you this hard before. An uneasy feeling pricked at the edges of your mind--the unnerving feeling of being a devil’s prey.

Once Vergil felt the mark was dark enough, he leaned back up as he licked his lips and teeth clean of your blood. Your eyes met with his and Vergil had a crazed stare that sent cold shivers down your spine, it was a feral dominant look that only worsened the growing bad feeling in your gut. He moved to the other side of your neck and gave it the same treatment; puncturing your flesh deeply.

You let out a sharp moan as you felt him remove his teeth and give the new mark small loving licks. Curious as to how’d you respond, he took one of the tips of his split tongue and pushed it into one of the teeth holes. With pursed lips, your brow scrunched and you pulled away from the feeling; however, Vergil wasn’t done. He quickly placed another bite atop the same spot, moving ever-so-slightly out of line with the already there divots. The blue devil was enjoying the iron taste of the thick red substance and he wanted to taste you more; perhaps a side effect of him being the only Sparda descendant to consume human blood in mass?

With a third bite to the same spot, you finally spat out a whimper; one that wasn’t of pleasure. However, the devil didn’t notice and clenched his jaw harder at your struggling.

“Vergil, stop-!” You jerked away from him with a voice that was somewhere between angry and frightened--not a hint of enjoyment in earshot.

It took him a moment to react, removing his teeth with a low faintly animalistic huff. The blue devil leaned up and looked down at you, watching you writhe at the painful feeling, assessing the situation. A prominent red stain had adorned his lips, teeth, and surrounding skin; he looked as if he were truly attempting to eat you. A few tears pricked at the edges of your eyes which caused him to look away, almost shameful.

“Vergil?”

He released your hands and sat still, looking like a kicked puppy.

You leaned up and gently placed a hand on the side of his jaw, turning him to face you. Vergil’s eyes were glazed over and his lips slightly parted, still very obviously aroused but hesitant to continue. You ran a thumb along his lower lip, wiping blood off the stained surface. Slowly, you connected with his lips.

With a loving force, you pushed your lips hard against him and moved your hand from his jaw to the side of his neck, firmly holding him. Using your other hand, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him into you. All the while, you’d pushed your tongue into his mouth which earned a surprised muffled moan from Vergil.

His mouth tasted, unsurprisingly, of blood and was broiling hot. Vergil worked himself into your grove, moving along to the rhythm you were setting; a rarity in your relationship. You moved your hand up from his neck and interweaved your fingers with his hair, grasping the strands tightly. A small amount of pride pricked at the edges of your mind as you heard him let out a low unfiltered moan and felt him tremble under your grasp. This, however, didn’t last long.

Unwilling to remain submissive, Vergil pushed you downwards again. Mindlessly his kisses began to wander around your skin placing small kisses along your clothed shoulders and chest. In return, you gently groped at his shoulders and arms, earning a low moan from your devilish lover.

You noticed that he was still wet from his shower as you ran your hands under his shirt giving his skin a soft smooth feel. Your fingertips flattened against his pecs, kneading against him. Slowly, you made your way over to his nipples and pinched them tightly. His back arched slightly at the feeling and he let out a low breathy moan.

However, the blue devil’s hands weren’t stationary and had begun to move, drifting downwards. They rested right at the edge of your shirt for a moment as he felt you grope his chest. Then, bit by bit, he slid his hands underneath your shirt. Taking the hint, you removed your hands from him and pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

The blue devil’s slender fingers groped along your chest, seeming almost desperate to feel your body. Your hands grabbed the edge of his shirt and began to tug at it. Vergil leaned up and pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at you with slightly labored breathing.

In all his years of life, in neither Hell nor the human world, has he ever had he found another so captivating as you are. Even during times like these, times of sinful lust, you still managed to look holy to the tarnished devil; a sacred being that he’d gladly become a martyr over, someone he’d give his life up for. Despite his irritation at his current affliction, he can’t help but be glad that it is with you and that he found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

As he stared, you stared back.

A small amount of pride tugged at your heart at how you’d managed to get someone like Vergil, someone so beautiful. Your eyes focused on his partially agape kiss-swollen lips that he’d roll his tongue over moistening them every so often. His hair was down courtesy of the lack of pomade and clung to the still-wet skin of his brow, giving him a rather ragged look. Despite Dante being his twin, the two looked nothing alike in your eyes--even with the same hairstyle. Slowly your gaze traveled to his half-lidded eyes when you noticed something; his eyes were the icy glowing blue of his Devil Trigger.

You wriggled to sit upright, “You’re quite worked up, huh?” With a smile, you watched Vergil’s face become red and you placed a hand on the side of his neck, thumbing over his throat softly.

“Why do you say that?” his voice quivered a bit as he felt your hand slowly move down from his neckline to his hips.

“You’re acting… strange ,” you ran your hand close to his bulge, purposely missing it, and rested your hand on his thigh.

He gave you a half-confused half-disappointed look.

“Not that I don’t find this…” you gently rubbed his thigh, earning a stifled moan from the devil, “ aggressively dominant side of you alluring.”

“Do you?” he smirked slightly, “How strange…” Vergil leaned in and gave you small pecking kisses.

You smiled widely and spoke between kisses, “Care to share what the special occasion is?”

Vergil quietly chuckled and murmured against your lips, “In time.”

Between loud sweet pecks, you gently whispered, “Come on, please Vergil?”

Instead of answering, he gave you a long kiss; one that only broke once he felt you pushing away for air. Vergil’s fingers gently ghosted the three-times-bitten dark spot he’d left on your neck, staring with concern.

Noticing his upset attitude, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

“Does it… hurt ?” His voice was soft, with a small tinge of sadness.

“You want me to be honest?”

He nodded.

“Yes, it hurts, but-!” You made sure to cut him off, knowing damn well what he was going to say, “It’s fine and it’ll heal,” you ran soft kisses up from the hand you’d been kissing and to his shoulder, resting there for a moment, “It’s alright.”

“I am sorry for harming you,” he looked to the side, his eyes meeting with yours, “I didn’t think that I…” His voice cracked as gazed upon you with remorse.

You leaned up from his skin and looked at him with a soft smile, “Don’t worry about it, Vergil…” With a soft sigh, you leaned forward and placed a soft gentle long kiss on the underside of his jaw, “It’s flattering to know that you want me that badly, dear.”

Vergil pushed you back downwards, straddling your hips. His fingertips pressed into you as he eyed you up and down and, with a low dark desperate tone, he remarked, “That doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel right now.”

As he began to run his digits down your body, he leaned down and placed a very soft kiss on the tender spot. Bit by bit Vergil began to kiss down your middle, mumbling very softly against you, “ “The Fountains mingle with the river/And the rivers with the ocean,/The winds of heaven mix for ever,/With a sweet emotion;/Nothing in the world is single,/”,” he stopped right above your navel and lightly bit at the skin, staring up at you and locking with your eyes, “All things by a law devine/In one another's being mingle -/Why not I with thine?”.”

He continued until his head was between your thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw that he was already staring back at you. With hot and heavy breaths, he kissed the inside of one of your thighs all the way to your dick, then gave the other thigh the same treatment.

“Vergil-” You swallowed apprehensively, “Are you sure that you’re alright to be doing--”

“I won’t harm you,” he gave you a small smile with half-lidded eyes, “I promise,” his breath was heavy as he brushed his cheek and nose along your bulge, speaking in a quiet needy manner, “Let me taste you, please.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep up with the sudden mood change; Vergil going from overly dominant to an almost submissive pleading. Before you even answered him, his fingers were within your waistband and were pulling at the fabric, completely exposing you to him. A small moan left your lips as you felt him kiss along the insides of your thighs once more. They were slow sloppy kisses, licking and biting at the sensitive skin.

Vergil stared at you for a moment, a smirk of pride tugging at his lips from how you were watching him with bated breath. Very unhurriedly, he ran his tongue down from your tip to your balls. As he ran back up, he split his tongue apart and slid your cock between the two sides. Encouraged by your low groans, he did the same motion back down.

Carefully he took your sack into his mouth and began to lightly suck on it. Instinctively, you placed a hand in his hair and grabbed it harshly, making the blue devil moan lowly. As he released you from his mouth, he made sure to stick his tongue out and run it up your seam.

Your fingers tightened as you let out a groan and a quiet call of his name.

Returning to your shaft, he placed kisses along the underside of your dick upward. Once at the top, he licked at your slit and watched as you squirm at his motions. With a heavy breath, Vergil placed his lips around your cock and gradually took you into his mouth. His hands found purchase on your hips and he pulled you as close to him as possible, the tip of his nose touching your lower abdomen. You fully leaned up, to get a better view of him, and placed both your hands in his hair as he bobbed up and down at a moderate pace.

“Vergil~ fuck that feels good,” you groaned as he began to move faster at your words.

He smirked in response. Although he’d never admit it, he enjoys hearing you say he’s doing good; that he’s the reason you feel good. However, unlike normal, he wasn’t planning on bringing you to your peak; instead, he removed himself from your dick and stood up. The two of you shared a long heated kiss that he used to lean you back down, then he pulled back.

“Turn over,” his voice was low and gravely, palming himself at the sight before him.

With a small nod and smirk, you did as you were asked. You could hear Vergil shuffling around before feeling him rejoin you on the bed with his hands kneading against your ass. Although his motions weren’t particularly aggressive, the pressure he was using was extreme and was going to undoubtedly leave bruises. If you listened very closely, you could hear him purring behind his growling.

You let out a small laugh, “You’re quite pent up, huh?”

He momentarily paused, his hands still gripping you, “You could say that, yes,” before you could respond, you felt him dig his fingers harder into you, “May I?”

With a smile, you turned over your shoulder to him, “How cordial,” you softly laughed, “Go ahead, I’m all yours Vergil.”

Once he let go of your butt, Vergil smirked slightly at the sight of you lifting your hips up a bit. He was almost tempted to skip prepping you but he bit his lip; he can’t have you getting hurt, he needs you to be available for him. After lubing up his fingers, he slowly slid the first digit inside.

Taking a deep breath, you did your best to relax into his hand. Vergil shifted so he could kiss you while continuing to stretch you. He placed several gentle pecks along your neck and your jaw, a rather loud purr coming from deep within his chest.

As he slid a second finger inside you, he heavily laid his head on the crook of your shoulder and began to give the area small heated kisses. You let out a small moan and turned towards him, kissing the top of his head. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him let out a low happy sigh, his lips just barely hovering over your skin.

Another stifled moan came from you as he began to curl his fingers and return to kissing your neck, slightly nipping at it as he traveled along your neck and shoulder.

Quietly, as if afraid to speak, Vergil whispered between kisses, “I love you, my delicate little Lily.”

With a soft laugh, you looked at him, “That’s new-- “Lily”..?”

He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed, “Yes, I thought it appropriate. Do- do you not like it?”

“I don’t mind; just curious as to- ngh-” You groaned as you felt Vergil add a third finger.

“As to what, my love?” A cocky smug smirk tugged at his lips.

“Why did you th-think,” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, doing your best to hold back a moan, “to use it now?”

Vergil hummed in thought for a moment, making sure to keep his lips close enough to your skin that you could feel his lips vibrate--sending a shiver through you, “Because you remind me of such…” He removed his fingers and leaned up, “You are so very fragile-- so very breakable; and yet,” a chill ran up your spine as you felt Vergil run his nails from your shoulder blades down to your hips, leaving a minor scratched trail down your body, “you allow me to taint your beauty --to toy with your naive innocent humanity….”

His hands rested on your ass momentarily, letting out a low sigh, before fully removing his hands.

With a gravelly sensual tone, he continued, “Do you want to know why I want you so badly, Dearest?”

Hearing him shuffling around slightly, you nodded as a small amount of butterflies began to form in your gut.

The blue devil laid down over you, getting as close to your ear as possible, “Because you are mine-- my human plaything; do you understand?”

Against your lower back, you could feel his cock twitching and could feel how unbearably hot his skin had become. You swallowed hard, “I’m not sure I do.”

Vergil placed his forehead between your shoulder blades. He used one hand to prop himself up and the other was around his dick, stroking it slightly, as he whispered, “You are bound to me; in both heart, soul, and body .”

Without allowing you to respond, he prodded at your hole with his tip and slowly began to inch his way inside. A loud moan left your lips as you did your best to relax into him; feeling each bit of him that entered your body.

“You are my mate,” once fully seated inside you, he returned to your ear, “My one and only,” the blue devil kissed your ear, then gently bit and tugged at it, “for the rest of eternity.”

He sat back up with hands now placed on both sides of your hips. In response you picked your ass up, creating a downward dog position.

It started slow and controlled. He’d only pull out an inch or two and very carefully push himself back in, not wanting to harm you. However, these gentle motions didn’t last very long. Vergil did try his best to control himself; biting his lip, gripping onto you (unintentionally bruising you yet again), et cetera, but it didn’t work.

Vergil pulled his dick out, leaving just the very tip of it inside you, and rammed into you. It was hard enough that you jolted forward and let out a moan that was somewhere between pleased and startled. He repeated this motion but picked up the pace with each jab. Soon enough, all that could be heard throughout the house was the sound of his balls hitting your skin and your moans of bliss. Vergil wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and pulled you upwards, bringing you into a kneeling position.

Now using quick shorter thrusts he wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you flush against his body. A small amount of drool left the corner of your mouth as your vision became blurry, completely engulfed with the feeling of Vergil inside you. Mindlessly, you laid your head against the top of his shoulder which gave him plenty of room to bite and suck at your neck. One of your hands found its way to his hair, grabbing it tightly, and your other was neatly interwoven with a hand from your devilish lover. Your grip tightened on his hand as you moved your hips, doing your best to complement Vergil’s pattern.

This pose didn’t last very long. Vergil roughly shoved you back down and stood up, pulling out completely. Before you could question, you felt him harshly yank you over onto your back. Now facing upwards at the disheveled man, you got a proper view of him and you noticed several things that were just ever-so-slightly off. His teeth were much sharper and slightly thicker. A finite amount of scales had appeared on his cheekbones. The glowing icy blue eye color that you’d noticed earlier, was even more apparent and had heavily dilated pupils in the middle that were intensely trained on you.

You placed a hand on his cheek, very carefully thumbing over the black-blue scales. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed tightly, and gave your palm a long kiss, momentarily staying with lips pressed against your hand. An unintentional confused 'huh?' left your lips at how hot his breath and mouth were, he was scorching; the hottest you’ve ever felt from him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and leaned back up.

The blue devil slid off the bed and pulled you to the edge then put his tip back inside only to slam as hard as possible into your hips.

“Fuck~ Vergil,” you arched your back and wrapped your legs around his hips.

With a smirk, he repeated the action and created a pattern of extremely hard and moderately forceful thrusts that he switched between every four or five thrusts. Vergil looked down at you with a devilish smile, reveling in how undone he made you. Getting an insurmountable amount of arousing pleasure from the sounds of unintelligible gibberish moaning coming from you. The sight of your body being moved by just the force of his jabs. All he wanted to do was feel your insides even more, to reach as far as he could inside and claim every bit of you.

He grabbed your legs and pulled them up, resting them on his shoulders. The feeling of sinful pride he had only increased as he heard you call his name and saw your hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He slowed his hips for a moment, still maintaining the force of each thrust but trying to prevent himself from making a mistake and Triggering.

Vergil’s hands slid from your calves to your thighs, firmly kneading against your skin--his fingertips being imprinted into your skin with dark marks. A very distant dark part of him wanted to eat you, to bite your flesh --to mar it up --to cover you with his scent --to make sure you know exactly which devil you belong to. He licked his lips as he let out low heavy breaths from his partially opened mouth. Feeling his peak coming, he looked up at the ceiling as his thrusts became shorter and his pace picked up, moving faster than before.

Typically, he wouldn’t finish this fast but he couldn’t help himself. All he’s wanted to do for nearly a week is just fill your insides, and he was going to do just that. Vergil shifted slightly, making sure to hit your prostate with each gyration.

He let out a loud growling moan, cumming inside you. Only a few moments later did you call out with a sharp moan as you felt an intense orgasm ripping through your body.

Slowly, Vergil rode out both your orgasms. Gently, he removed your legs from his shoulders and pulled out of your body. You gazed into space for a moment before leaning up slightly to see Vergil, confused as to why he hadn’t said anything.

You audibly swallowed as you stared at him, “Y-you’re that pent up, huh?”

Vergil shamefully met your eyes. He was still hard and had scales on several other spots on his body. The thoughts of allowing himself to cut loose, to show you his inner urges without a filter made him both unfathomably terrified and overwhelmingly aroused. This was bad and he knew it, and seeing you so blissfully unaware of the danger you were in only tempted him further.

“Vergil,” you sat up fully a small grunt leaving your lips at the dull pain from being slammed so hard, “You alright?”

His lips thinned as he furrowed his brow, avoiding your gaze once more, “I am fine; however, I…” He paused, unable to finish his sentence.

“We could try it out, you know,” you gave him a meek smile as his eyes flicked to yours.

He shook his head ‘no’, “I can’t risk hurting you for something so trivial.”

“This is obviously not ‘trivial’. You never have this issue-- not to mention how different you’ve been acting,” you reached out to grab one of his hands, “What’s wrong, Vergil? You can tell me; I promise I won’t judge or get upset.”

The blue devil intently watched as you ran your thumb over his knuckles, “Fine…” He moved to sit beside you on the bed, staring straight ahead, “You know what an animal in “rut” means, correct?”

You nodded, “Yeah,” your eyes thinned as you slowly turned to him, “Vergil, you don’t mean--?”

“I should’ve told you before we…” he sighed with his shoulders tensing, “Because you and I became intimately involved, I now will go through this every spring,” he looked over to you, momentarily locking with your stare, “and you are the only one that can give me… relief .”

With a slow nod and deep breath, your eyes flicked between his hard-on and his gaze, “Guess I didn’t provide enough “relief”, huh?”

He gave you a small smile, “I’m afraid it’s not something that will be able to be soothed with only a round or two or even three, my love.”

You moved your jaw in thought and stood up. Sighing softly, you moved Vergil’s arms off to his sides and sat on his lap. You placed one hand on his chest and used the other to push a strand of hair out of his eyes, resting the hand on his cheek afterward. A loud purring emanated from his chest, vibrating your fingers, as you stared softly into his icy-blue eyes, “I love you so much Vergil; you know that?”

The blue devil smiled, “I do,” he leaned closer to you, placing his forehead against yours, speaking in a breathy whisper; his breath ghosting along your lips, “I love you as well; more than words could ever describe.”

The two of you connected lips and the hand that was on Vergil’s chest slid up to his face; allowing you to cup it between your hands. Vergil took his hands and ran them down your sides and then settled to hold your lower back as he continued to give you sloppy sweet kisses, gently pushing his mouth against you.

Cautiously, Vergil bit at your lips to ask for permission to enter your mouth; which you accepted. He let out an unintentional elated moan at the feeling of your tongue with his. His fingertips dug into your skin, pressing and kneading against you in excitement. With a lustful aggressiveness, Vergil pushed you onto your back--down onto the floor of the bedroom.

Making sure to maintain the kiss, Vergil shifted the both of you around so he could line himself up with your hole. Slowly, he slid back inside and devoured each of the divine noises that you made in response. That thought made him growl slightly; he wants to defile you over and over, to hold you for as long as you will allow him to.

Only once he was fully within you did he break off the kiss and allow you to take a deep breath. He held himself up with his arms, looking down at your breathless form. A prideful smug smile tugged at his lips as he began to move slightly, grinding himself into you. It didn't take long for him to reach a moderate pace. You reached up and ran your hands along his body, feeling each divot, each curve, each soft and hard surface; taking notes to yourself as if you hadn’t ever been allowed to touch him before. His heart was pounding so fast that you could feel it no matter where your hands were.

The blue devil’s mind was reeling. He was so engrossed in how good you feel that he hadn’t noticed how hard he was slamming into you, pushing you along the floor with each pass of his hips. His growling had returned, albeit tenfold louder and a great deal more animalistic; completely replacing his moans.

Although you know Vergil has issues with you touching his back, you were too immersed in the moment and wrapped your arms around him. One of your hands found its way to the back of Vergil’s head, threading your fingers tightly into his hair. You did your best to try and wrap your legs around him too; hoping to prevent him from shoving you along the floor any further.

He did stop for a moment, only to take the opportunity to pick you up and slam you against one of the walls of the room; knocking several things from their hanging spots. A sharp moan left your lips as you felt his nails aggressively dig into the sides of your thighs. Vergil placed his mouth at the crook of your shoulder and nipped at the skin, leaving various marks.

You let out a slight hiss as he got a little too close to one of the deeper marks from earlier; in a way to seemingly apologize, he gently licked at your neck. He then leaned back and looked at you for a moment, letting out a set of shaky breaths. Vergil connected lips with you as you slid both hands into his hair; grabbing fistfuls of the silky white strands. His kisses were aggressive, pushing your head against the wall. Your body tensed, legs tightening around him, you were getting close--and so was he.

Quick jack-rabbit thrusts replaced his previous tempo. His wandering grip continued as he slammed your hips down into his, moving your body in a harsh rhythm with his. The two of you parted lips allowing you to throw your head back--at least the best you could being against a wall--and Vergil placed kisses on your windpipe.

The blue devil placed his head on your shoulder as he focused on fucking you. It didn’t take long for him to reach nirvana, spilling himself inside you with a low sustained frustrated growl. You reached your peak as well; cumming with a low grunt and gentle groan of Vergil’s name.

He ground against you and let out gentle shuddering breaths against your neck, giving you slight goosebumps. Without removing himself, he carried you back over to the bed and laid you down. Propped upwards using his hands, he stared down at you. Vergil was breathing heavily with a hung-open mouth and had a layer of sweat on his brow. More scales had appeared and his stare was oddly blank, as if he were lost in deep thought. You watched as he used his tongue to play with one of his canines and his brow twitched into a slightly agitated state.

“Vergil?” You weakly grabbed one of his biceps, giving it a light squeeze, “Is everything okay?”

A set of quick blinks brought his eyes back into focus, accompanied by a shake of his head, “Yes, I am alright--sorry.”

After a pause, he leaned up and gradually removed himself. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling and you stared up at the ceiling for a moment before tilting up to look at the blue devil.

“Oh…” You gave him a dumbfounded stare. He was still hard, cock twitching at your surprise.

Once you looked up at Vergil’s face, you saw that he had crossed his arms with one hand over his face; mortified and ashamed of what was happening.

With an awkward laugh, you took a deep breath, “So, how many rounds do you need, again?”

Vergil’s eyes slowly met with yours as he shook his head, whispering, “I’m… unsure.”

You scrunched your mouth to the side, “What about trying to use your “Trigger”? You seem even worse off than earlier, Vergil.”

He removed his hand from his face and shot you a stern glance, “No, I can’t risk hurting you--”

“Vergil, if you keep this up, you will hurt me,” you grunted in slight pain as you sat up fully, “I can only take so much,” you laughed slightly, placing a hand on the back of your neck, “Especially with how rough you’re being.”

The blue devil thought for a moment, his tongue playing with his teeth. A part of him knew you were right, that if this continued there was a very high chance he would hurt you, and he really loved the idea of allowing himself to let go--to show you what he could really do. Still, the sheer amount of uncontrollable possibilities kept him hesitant.

What if you don’t like it and he’s too far gone to stop?

What if he manhandles you too hard and breaks something--either something in the room or, more importantly, you?

What if he hit you against the wall or floor too hard and hurt you?

What if he bit you and couldn’t stop himself from sinking his teeth in too far?

What if you died because of him and his stupid demonic instincts?

“Vergil..?”

He flinched at your sudden closeness. You’d gotten up and were standing in front of him, concerned that he was standing silently for so long. With one hand on his bicep and the other cupping his face, you made small circles with your thumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards you, placing his forehead against yours.

The two of you shared a very sweet and emotionally soft kiss, drawing it out for quite some time.

With lips just above his, you quietly pleaded, “You can do whatever you need to, Vergil; it’ll be okay.”

Vergil swallowed hard. With one final squeeze of his arm, you let go of him. His eyes flicked all over your body as he gave it one final thought. Taking a deep breath, he nodded; he had to try it.

All he could hear was the loud pounding of his heart as he allowed himself to Trigger. Soft cornflower blue light filled the space. You smiled at the sight before you. It wasn’t very often you got to see Vergil use either of his Devil Triggers; his normal Trigger being a much rarer sight.

Under his breath, he let out a soft chuckle at your doting stare. Although he’s never told you, he finds it amusing that you’re so enamored with his devilish forms. He unfurled his wings from his sides and mindlessly stretched them outwards before bringing them back in close to his body. Pride pricked at his heart as he saw your expression of such a trivial act.

Cautiously, you approached him and reached out to touch his chest. This was the first time Vergil had allowed you to be anywhere near him while in a non-human state. His scales were hot to the touch, but not painfully more along the lines of freshly dried linen or hot asphalt. Through your fingers, you could feel a low rumble coming from within his chest.

With a slight shake, Vergil placed a hand over yours and locked eyes with you. Uneven breaths left his lips as he waited for you to say something-- anything.

You smiled softly and inched closer, placing your head on his chest, “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

A noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh left his nose, “That’s not what one should say when face-to-face with a devil.” Vergil wrapped his arms loosely around you.

“I’m not just face-to-face with “ a devil”,” you smiled wider and looked up at him, “I’m face-to-face with m-my…” you stumbled over your words as an embarrassed shade spread across your face, your confidence quickly dissipating.

“Your what?” He tilted his head in curiosity, wanting nothing more than to hear you say it.

With a voice no louder than a whisper you looked away from his eyes, “with my mate.”

He stared with parted lips before giving a small smile, “How strange to hear you say that,” Vergil leaned down to you, whispering, “Are you sure this is alright?”

Without answering, you connected your lips to his. Your hands slid up to the base of his neck on either side, gently scraping your nails on his scales as you went along. His arms tightened to pull you closer, placing one at the small of your back and the other on your ass. Slow careful kisses turned to sloppy impassioned French kisses. Vergil's tongue desperately felt the inside of your mouth, now being able to reach even further inside. You let out a surprised grunt at the feeling but were quickly distracted by a harsh groping motion against your ass.

Once you broke apart, the two of you stood staring at one another. Curious as to what he’d do, you ran your hands slowly down his torso. The heat coming from his body was unbelievable but his lower abdomen was tenfold worse. Distantly you found yourself worried if his cock would be too hot for your body to take in. As your fingers worked their way down, you took note of the texture changes between his chest, stomach, and the bright blue V that pointed to where you were headed.

Gently, you rubbed your fingertips up and down the glowing area, earning a stifled groan from Vergil. Curiously enough, you were expecting the area to feel akin to the rest of his scales--hard and rough--but were greeted by a warm velvety silk feeling. As you kneaded against him, he pulled you into another set of passionate kisses. The hand from your lower back traveled up your spine and braced the back of your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible.

Mindlessly, he leaned forward and dipped you back slightly. He broke from your mouth and kissed the corner of your mouth. Bit by bit, he kissed along your jawline, to your neck, and finally your throat. All the while, your fingers continued to their original destination. Carefully, you teased the area around his still-hidden cock and lightly ran your middle finger along his slit. Vergil’s breath hitched and he stopped his kisses, his breath washing over your skin.

A sultry smirk tugged at your mouth as you felt his tip begin to emerge. Vergil’s wings uncontrollably flexed outwards at the odd feeling, much to the blue devil’s surprise--and slight dismay. He’d never thought about trying anything even remotely sexual while like this, so the feeling of your fingers kneading against him made him feel as if he were a virgin again; feeling overwhelmed by nothing but the slightest of your touches.

You slowly ran his tip between your fore and middle fingers, feeling pre-cum dripping onto your digits. His cock was pleasantly warmer than normal, eliciting a small groan from you as you thought about him being inside you. The cum that decorated your fingers was also hotter than normal and seemed to be much thicker. The blue devil took a deep breath and shifted slightly, his wings curling around the two of you. In an almost painfully slow motion, Vergil ran his tongue along your neck, small papillae scrapping the sensitive area. He let out a shaky breath as you stroked along the sheath where his cock was, making his cock appear much faster than intended.

Before you managed to have him fully out, Vergil picked you up and placed you onto the mattress. He placed both his hands beside either side of your head, still standing, and his wings outstretched behind him. You stared up at him as a small shiver ran up your spine at the sight. Vergil’s eyes were dilated heavily and were fixated on yours. A part of you knows you should be afraid or at least apprehensive about what is happening, but you couldn’t be bothered; you were much too invested in the moment.

A wicked grin adorned his face, teeth on full display, “You really want me, don’t you?”

“And if I do?”

“Hmph,” the blue devil leaned back up and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed.

With slow long pumps, he touched himself to the sight of you. However, when you tried to lean up to see, he quickly pushed you flat.

“Did I tell you to move?” His voice was utterly layered with an overwhelming dominance.

Your gut churned and twisted as you waited with bated breath for him to ram your body, except, the blue devil knew he had to be careful with you. Although it was seen as a dominating move, Vergil laying you back was done to keep you calm. If you’d seen him fully erect, you would’ve tensed up tenfold worse and this would’ve been much more difficult than it already will be.

He grabbed the lube from the nearby table and coated his cock. Whatever excess was on his hand, he very carefully put it at your entrance--making sure his claws didn’t knick you. After a small debate, he dragged you a bit closer and put your ankles on his shoulders, aligning himself with your hole.

“Relax,” he placed a hand on your stomach, skin dipping down slightly from the tips of his claws, “Just focus on your breathing.”

You pursed your lips and stared mindlessly at the ceiling, doing just as he said and taking deep calm breaths, trying to keep yourself from tensing.

Vergil pushed his tip in, earning a gasp and deep grunting moan from you. Bit by bit, he continued to push inside, doing his best to fight the urge to slam against you. You were gripping the bed, pulling on the already decimated sheets. The size of Vergil’s cock normally is something that would make most men green with envy but the size he was working with now was nothing short of “porn star” material.

His hand that was on your gut slid up to your chest as he leaned down into you, causing him to push inside quicker than intended. Doing his best to not cut you with his claws, Vergil groped at your pecs and lightly kneaded against you. Low in his chest, he was emitting a purr that was intense enough that you could feel it through his hand.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was fully seated within you. Heavy deep lust laden breaths left your agape lips as the blue devil closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your innards snuggly squeezing around him. Vergil could feel your rapid heartbeat and could practically taste your arousal; being able to smell human pheromones just like a human can a fresh baked bread, sometimes being strong enough to give a taste to the air. It made his body ache, giving him a strong sense of pride to know that you were just as madly into him as he is you.

You placed a hand atop the charcoal-grey scaled hand on your chest, “Vergil…”

The two of you locked eyes and Vergil leaned down to you. Gently, he kissed you. It was a physical manifestation of a promise; a promise that he will take good care of you. The black and blue scaled devil tilted back upright, his fingers lightly clawing up your middle sliding to rest on each side of your hips. With slow careful--almost fearful--motion, he began to test what you thought of his devilish body. A string of low groans left your lips as you closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock. Your chest was moving in an almost exaggerated manner as Vergil slowly ramped things up. The unhurried nature of his movements allowed you to feel each rib of his cock, feeling every time one would leave and re-enter your aching hole.

In an elongated teasing manner, Vergil removed himself out to his tip and pushed back in--making sure you felt every bit of him and savored him. He closed his eyes, doing his best to keep a level head as he intently listened to the breathy moans leaving your lips.

Once more, he removed himself out to the tip; this time, however, he slammed back inside. A sharp mixed noise of a grunt, moan, and gasp came from you. His eyes opened as he repeated the action; making sure to remove himself slower than before and return twice as hard.

Your back arched at his actions, eyes focused on the ceiling above you. When you looked back at Vergil, his eyes were trained on yours with an unplaceable emotion hidden behind his gaze. His emotion became clear when he harshly pulled out and slammed his hips against you; no longer feeling the need to hold back.

With each thrust, you were pushed up on the bed and his hands would yank you back down to meet the brutal bucking of his hips. All that could be heard was the sound of his hips hitting yours and the wet squelching from the previous rounds and copious amounts of lube in your ass. Concentrating on your expression, Vergil failed to notice that his claws had sunk into your skin which anchored his grip into you. Leaning down, he placed his face in the crook of your shoulder; kissing you carefully.

After a moment, he leaned back up slightly to place his nose beside yours. You placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over the leathery skin. Your pinkie mindlessly ran along the silver spikes that formed a beard of sorts at his jawline, curious as to what it felt like. He leaned into your touch and, despite him still jackhammering away, he felt a warm sweet feeling at your overly gentle treatment of him.

“Grab onto me,” Vergil whispered, his voice thick with lust and uncharacteristically gruff.

You did as he asked, wrapping your hands around the backside of his neck. Vergil picked you up and wrapped his wings around you, pushing you tightly against him. A small hiss slipped through your lips at the feeling of your dick rubbing against Vergil’s torso. It didn’t hurt per se but it was extremely overwhelming. Your nails dug into his scales, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Seeming to notice your distress, the blue devil began to lightly lick and nip at your neck and throat. He took a long deep inhale of your scent, pressing his chest against yours, desiring to get closer to you than possible. As he exhaled, you felt his hot breath wash over you and tickle at your skin causing you to let out a restrained laugh.

With a hum, Vergil slowed slightly and took a moment to enjoy the closeness of your bodies. The feeling of your soft human skin against his scales made his gut twist. A distant hidden part of him felt an odd arousal from the idea of how fragile you were--how he could crush you instantly if he wanted; completely contradicting his main anxious mindset.

Moving your hand to his chest, you pushed him away, confusing Vergil for a moment, before you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. Lazy sloppy kisses caused him to let out a small moan, which intensified at the feeling of you repeatedly biting at his lower lip. His thrusts switched to a moderate pace as his fingertips kneaded against you. As you pulled away, he let out a disappointed huff, which was quickly replaced with a dark low gravely moan.

Despite not being able to break his hide, you leaned down and bit his neck; at a somewhat odd angle because of the horns that wrapped around to the front of his head. It is rare for Vergil to allow you to bite him, however, feeling you claim him--just as he did you--made his body ache. After a moment, you stopped and placed a soft kiss against him. You repeated the action on the other side of his neck, Once done, you trailed kisses along his neck to his throat and placed an elongated kiss against his Adam’s apple. Vergil let out a small grunt at the feeling and, when you tilted back, you were met with heavy half-lidded eyes.

The blue devil nudged you to expose your neck and placed his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing heavily, “I love you.”

Without allowing you to respond, he pushed your hips downwards and fucked into you as quickly as possible. A loud groan left your lips at the inhuman speed of Vergil’s cock and you grasped at whatever you could, causing Vergil to let out a surprised huffed moan at your unexpectedly rough touches. His claws left the new loving craters in your thighs and slid to your ass, pulling you apart.

Before you could question, your eyes went wide. The blue devil pushed his knot inside you, somewhat forcefully, as he let out a thunderous semi-whiney shaky moan. Once buried into you, his hands returned to your hips and his claws to the same holes as before.

You let out a whimpering moan as you hit another peak, feeling his cum gush inside you. He hadn’t disclosed anything about a knot or that he was going to use it inside you, but you weren’t complaining. It felt as if he’d been pent up for a year with how quickly and how much was being released.

It was both a painful and heavenly experience.

All the while, Vergil could only continue to repeat your name and whisper how much he loves you; almost as if he were begging for you to say it back, as if you weren’t already committed to him. With a soft kiss against his horn closest to your mouth, you whispered, “I love you,” which caused him to grind against you, attempting to further spear you than he had already.

Unsure what to do now you were stuck together, Vergil laid you back down and laid atop you. His wings were stretched out flat and his forearms were wrapped around your torso, across your shoulder blades. With his face directly down onto your chest, his eyes fluttered shut and he purred loudly. Although you wanted nothing to do but lie still, curiosity got the better of you, and you ran a hand along his horns which made him purr tenfold louder.

Admittedly, Vergil wanted to stay as you were, interlocked and him pinning you down; but he also wanted to patch you up. You could feel how fast his heart was beating; whether it was from fucking, cumming, or nerves was anyone’s guess. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to his breathing and purring. The two of you stayed interwoven for nearly ten minutes, Vergil shifting several times in an attempt to remove himself.

Finally, he stopped twitching. He stood back up and carefully slid out which was accompanied by an audible pop and your hips quivering. Vergil’s chest heaved as he de-triggered. Beyond tired, he returned to the same position as before and laid against your chest.

“Vergil?” Your voice was raspy and very overtly worn out.

Without moving, he spoke against your skin, “Yes, my love?”

You placed a hand in his hair, running your fingers through the utterly disheveled white strands, “How do you feel?”

He quietly laughed, “I am calm, for now; if that is what you are asking.”

With a heavy exhale you hummed a sound of relief.

“How are you feeling?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“Mhm.”

“Like I was just in a category five hurricane.”

“I’m sorry,” he placed a kiss against your breastbone, “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

Lightly, you ran your fingers down his neck to his shoulder blades, sliding up his arm, “Help me get into the bath?”

Vergil smiled, “Of course, my dear,” he shifted upwards and placed a kiss against your lips, “Anything for my mate.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Originally I had planned to also have Sin Trigger sex in this but I thought that would be a bit too much to digest from one story; plus “Bed of the Blue Devil” is entirely based on that aspect. Also between the teaser from yesterday (early this morning) and now; I found out that I have the ‘rona so… Life is really great--it’s just one thing after another, I finally wanna write and do stuff but now I’m exhausted and feel like someone beat my skull in with a sledgehammer 🦢💧🦢 Poem Quoted: “Love’s Philosophy” Percy Bysshe Shelley

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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avocado-writing · 8 months

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Ohhhh my lord I would DIE for some sort of AU where Astarion had a lover/partner before he was turned by Cazador???

And maybe he finds you visiting his grave after being freed from the tadpole or something and mentally debating whether to go to you or stay hidden bc he’s insecure about being a vampire?

Idk I’ve just been thinking about this randomly and the angst would be so goooood

Love Love Love your work Avo 💚💚💚

notes: sorry for this I swear I’ll write something happy next.

pairing: astarion x reader.

warnings: hurt, no comfort

rating: T

He dies and leaves you broken.

At least, you think he does. There is no way for him to come to you through those first few years, when Cazador keeps him imprisoned alone and half-crazed with starvation, sucking the innards out of rats until their desiccated husks are his only company. Eventually he manages to endear himself to his master enough that he is allowed out of the palace, though that is only to bring food back in the form of the unsuspecting nobles of Baldur’s Gate.

It is a miserable existence. He hates his body, hates himself, and as Cazador forces him to seduce people back, using his own beauty as bait, the soft nights he spent with you are all that keeps him sane.

Your memory is a light in the darkness of his new life.

On the fifth anniversary of his death, the first chance he has since he was turned, he cannot help but go and visit his grave. Call him maudlin, but he wonders if it has yet fallen into disrepair. As a magistrate he was hardly the most popular man in the city, and now everyone thinks he’s long gone…

He does not find it empty. He finds a sobbing figure next to the headstone.

You are just as lovely as he remembers, though your face is stained with tears. You grieve as if he died yesterday and not several years past. Your fingers carefully caress the engraving of his name, the way you used to trace them over his cheekbones, his lips.

It is a punch to the gut.

“Why did you have to leave me…” you choke, gripping the grass so hard you tear it from the ground.

He wants to hold you in his arms. To tell you that he is here, that death didn’t take him. He wants to remember what it feels like to touch you, really touch you, not just live by an echo of it in his memory.

But he can’t, because he is a monster. A creature which belongs to the night. You would not want him now, would you? You’re a thing of beating blood and soft flesh and breathed air and life. He simply cannot anchor you to this thing which he has become and drag you down too.

That would just kill him all over again.

Wordlessly, he leaves you to mourn.

He comes back every year, to that little corner of the graveyard. You still cry but as time moves on, it is less, and eventually you make it through a whole visit without shedding a tear. You wax poetic about your favourite memories of him: quiet meals spent together, days when you never left bed, private in-jokes he thinks you would have forgotten by now. He listens to you talk from the shadows.

It is the one thing he has to look forward to all year.

Then you start bringing company.

Your partner holds your hand tightly, and Astarion seethes from the darkness as you tell them about all him, about the pale elf you used to love. They listen as you fondly recount stories of your time together, and Astarion is torn: you no longer sound hurt like you once did, like the grief is a constant companion as you stumble on through life; but he is bitter. You were his. And now your hand easily links through the fingers of another.

He considers attacking you both. Biting you, trying to turn you. Killing your new paramour and having their bastard blood quench his unholy thirst.

But then you laugh, really laugh, tipping your head back in mirth at something they said, and leaning up against them. The way you used to with him.

How can a dead heart break?

He leaves.

The next year, when the two of you visit, you have matching rings on your fingers.

The year after that, you do not come to his grave at all. He wonders if you have finally forgotten about him. He tries to swallow this fact and move on, but what does he have to move on to? More misery. More loneliness. More Cazador.

The year after he finds you there, once again, and he feels the first twinge of joy in gods know how long –

“We had a baby, Astarion,” you say to the cold stone in front of you, carefully clearing off the moss which has attempted to take it over. “A little boy. He’s so precious… I know you never really liked children, but I hope you’d be pleased for me. I miss you, my darling, but I’m finally happy.”

He never visits his grave again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin x reader #My writing #Request

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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 year

Note

I would like to request "playing with your partner's hair" with Steven 🥰

I hope you love this one!!

Steven was never one to shy away from physical affection. After assuming he’d be alone his whole life, he thought of every moment of contact as a gift, as something to appreciate with his whole heart. Lucky for him, you gave out physical affection freely, a hug before work and hands held as the two of you stroll around London and cuddles all evening long.

He was in heaven.

The only problem was that he’d never, ever, in a million years, ask for physical affection even though he craves it like oxygen. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure he deserved it, deserved you, so he would accept whatever you wanted to give him with open arms but would never ask for a hug or for you to hold his hand with the fear that as soon as his desires were known, it would all disappear.

Logically, he knew that was insane, that you’d never turn him down in a million years and especially not over something like a cuddle or holding hands, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something in his brain that screamed ‘you don’t deserve nice things’ in a voice that sounds so much like the mother from Marc’s memories.

Tonight, it’s barely past dinner time on a Friday night but you and Steven are already curled up in bed, a documentary on the Loch Ness monster playing in the background. Neither of you are really paying attention, but Steven enjoys the way you giggle whenever the host says something increasingly outlandish about what the Loch Ness monster could really be.

It’s cozy and safe and everything Steven could ever want, except it had been a long, Donna-filled week at work and his head has been killing him since Monday morning. The two of you are already twined together, legs wrapped around each other and your fingers gently tracing nonsensical patterns onto his back. What Steven really wants, though, his for your fingers to gently move through his hair, to help him finally relax after the week he’d just endured.

But what you’re doing feels nice, it’s relaxing, and the thought of asking for more makes Steven feel like he’s going to throw up, his stomach in knots at the mere idea of requesting more from you, who’s so infinitely giving with your kindness and your heart and your touch. Never, ever would he ask for more from you when he already feels like he can never give back to you.

Then, it’s like you can read his mind, can see every single thought play out across his face, and your fingers begin to trail up his neck and settle into his curls. You alternate between gently massaging his head, all the tension in his body evaporating, and running your fingers through his hair, softly separating the curls and watching them spring back into place.

It’s perfect, and everything Steven could ever want, and even though he wasn’t able to ask for it, he’s able to tell you how much he appreciates it, appreciates you. You just brush off his thanks with a kiss to his forehead and an “Anytime,” and he thinks you’re telling the truth. You’d do anything for him, anytime, any place.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #500 follower extravaganza!!

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lxvebun · 1 year

Text

only in my dreams

buns notes: Forgot I had this in my drafts and I want it OUT :,)

content Scaramouche x gender neutral reader. Angst<3. Softer Scaramouche because would it be my writing if I didn't turn him soft?. Cliffhanger? English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Not completely proofread ssh

-can we be together

He tries to ignore it, the pain that spikes through his body when you look at him and he can see it in your eyes that you don't recognize him. You've long since forgotten about him, Just as he had planned, so why is he feeling like this?. How is it that without a heart, he still feels like something is splitting apart inside his chest?

He should be happy for you, this is exactly what he wanted. For you to forget about him just like everyone else. Live your life the way you always should have without him interfering. Travel Teyvat, follow the career of your dreams, and even find someone who can love you with all of their heart, something he's physically incapable of as much as he wishes he wasn't.

he did not take the possibility that his new self may want his memories back into his plan. he never planned on losing you since it would be like he never existed in your life at all. You can't lose something you don't have and that was supposed to be it. And to now just pretend that all of your once shared memories together weren't real, the stolen kisses under the moonlight, the way you so annoyingly (not really) stole his hat and ran away yelling "Catch me if you can!" With that stupidly breathtaking smile on your face...it hurts more than he lets on

But as Lesser lord Kusanali has said, some things just can't be erased.

So she taught him how to look into your dreams. While some dreams are just a bunch of incoherent pictures of things you're exposed to daily, familiar faces of friends and family pieced together to make somewhat of a story, some dreams are figments of memories deeply intertwined within your soul.

And that's how he's able to watch you now, as you sit in the sand, knees pulled to your chest, gazing over the sea. Back in a place that resembles the Inazuma shores, the one where you used to lay together to stargaze. Though the stars in this sky are way more frequent and brightly colored and the ocean is way more gentle. there are no monsters, no Nobushi, no thunder. something that doesn't quite reflect reality. A peaceful dream.

He wonders why you're dreaming of this place. It's not as if it was hidden, but people rarely, if at all visited. It was your shared happy place to wind down. A place that he showed you.

he's been present in your dreams for a bit now, you never seem to be aware of it, so he doesn't bother to try and be quiet. he's used to questioning and talking to you in your dreams and receiving no response. so he tries to not get his hopes up as you turn around to look at where he's standing.

Scaramouche feels weirdly exposed as your gaze doesn't falter and your eyes seemingly trace over every detail of him. it's as if you're truly looking at him and maybe it's just wishful thinking but he swears he sees a glimpse of recognition in your eyes

And then you break the silence

"Do I know you?" You asked as you stand up from your place on the ground, dusting the imaginary sand off your clothes.

Who would have thought that such peaceful dreams could shift into cruel nightmares in just a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-" he manages to croak out despite the way his voice is trying to break. "I didn't know you could see me, y/- he cuts himself off. swallowing the ache of your name in his throat and biting back the tears threatening to spill. Just as he begins to open his mouth to finish his answer, you speak again.

"You look familiar"

Thank you for reading angels! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #wanderer x gender neutral reader #genshin angst #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x you

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thesharktanksdriver · 9 days

Text

Dicentra D. Boa

Content warning going in: implied rape, human trafficking, slavery, implied sexual assault, implied Sa of children, and massacres. It’s not talked in length or in detail but it is alluded to due to the Boa sisters backstory and Dicentra’s conception. I wanted to be sure to give a warning just in case because of the nature of these topics. If any of these themes are triggering please skip past the section labeled “Josephine” and go to “childhood” instead

Also sorry if she’s cringe or Mary sue but she’s my little blorbo and I love her. Writing her is also my excuse to write (and rewrite) about Boa Hancock because I think she’s underrated and I think her character could’ve been handled better by oda (this is in regards to her liking Luffy which is really weird since she’s a grown adult who fell in love with a 17 year old after being victimized through a decent portion of her life by adults)

General information

Name: Dicentra D. Boa.

Following after the flower naming convention of the Amazon lily, Dicentra is the scientific name of the bleeding heart flower. Her name was chosen by Hancock since dicentra’s birth mother didn’t know what to choose

The D. Is gained to her by her birth mother Josephine D. Etheus. Though Dicentra is apart of “the will of D” she has no idea about it due to the fact Boa swore to Josephine that no traces from her would connect back to Dicentra.

Age: 13

Dicentra was born a few hours before the mass breakout of Mary geoise when Hancock was 16.

Race: half-lunarian

Dicentra’s motherJosephine was a full lunarian captured in the massacre of her people. Despite Saturns extermination efforts a few celestial dragons wanted a lunarian as apart of their collection and were able to accomplish this secretly

Being only half lunarain attributes to her white hair and darker toned skin. But along with this it also acts as a reason as to why her wings are so small and why she doesn’t have an eternal spark.

She can’t create fire because of this, but she could control already lit flames if she needed to. But she has not found this out yet

(Fun fact is that whenever in a room with some type of fire, she subconsciously pulls that flame slightly towards herself. Kinda like how sunflowers face the sun, flames direct themselves towards her)

Personality: curious, sometimes oblivious, good hearted, optimistic, overly eager and a bit chaotic

As a young sheltered girl Dicentra is naturally curious of the world and just about anything she can get her hands on. She enjoys soaking in all of the knowledge of the great world beyond the Amazon lily, whilst also secretly yearning to see it for herself.

Another side effect of her sheltered upbringing is the fact she’s very oblivious to things. Whether that be wandering into a bad situation due to curiosity of something that caught her eye or just being unaware of concepts like men not being hideous monsters that’ll kill her (Hancock taught her this lol). Despite her being oblivious to these environmental concerns she’s actually very observant of others emotions when needed.

Unlike her mother’s cold and dominating facade Dicentra is very openly warm to those around her. She often times is found conversing with others around her, joyfully asking about things and recounting new stuff she discovered.

Along with this she can be very eager about whatever catches her eye. Leading her to blindly and stubbornly pursue it even at her own detriment (much to her mother’s and Nightshade concern). This has lead to her acting without foresight and acting on the first thing that entered her mind which can have varied results…like biting someone’s hand

Interests and hobbies: journaling, exploration, drawing, dance and song

Once more due to her interest in the world beyond the Amazon lily Dicentra has taken to journaling all she’s learned. When her mother brings her gifts from far off places she enjoys documenting everything she can about it. Of all subjects she loves writing about the most she enjoys exotic Fish, birds and gemstones the most.

Due to her journaling she ends up exploring places quite a bit. From the city of her home to the jungles and mountains she’ll explore. Some of it from blind interest and from plain eager stubbornness

Something gained from her journaling is her hobby of drawing. Though years of practice she’s gotten decent at drawing, though it’s less out of passion and moreso just for proper documentation.

Her real hobbies are that of song and dance. As a princess Dicentra had taken up many hobbies but the two that stuck with her are dancing and song. She enjoys dancing since it’s an active activity and picking up new instruments to learn and play.

She’s particularly fond of the Erhu (I’m taking in some Chinese inspiration due to the Chinese influence of the Amazon lily)

Habits and quirks: Manners, stiff posture, back issues, lack of shoes, playing with her hands, love of berries/fruits and tendency to put others before her

Dicentra as princess (though that title is moreso just a title since the Amazon lily leadership is based on strength rather than bloodline) she was educated to have proper manners. While she’s a tough and tumble kind of girl she still implores these manners in most social situations until she finds something interesting and throws manners to the wind.

Due to these manners she can sometimes also have a stiff posture in mix with her back pains. Hiding her wings is a hassle for her so binding them along with keeping a certain posture as to be sure their hidden is important. When around those she trusts she lets up a bit and is more relaxed but that’s if they know of her wings. If not she keeps up the posture to be sure they won’t be found

As stated above she gets quite a lot of back pain and jolts of discomfort due to her hiding her wings. It’s an unfortunate thing she has to deal with, something all the boa sisters feels guilty about but know it’s for Dicentra’s best interest in the end.

Despite being taught manners Dicentra can’t stand wearing closed toe shoes. She doesn’t mind sandals but she loves being barefoot much to her mother’s ire. Dicentra loves the feeling of grass and sand beneath her feet.

A nervous quirk she has is that she plays with her hands quite a bit.

Also is a giant sweet tooth for things but especially loves Berries, Fruits and her favourite food of peach buns with a custard filling. It’s definitely due to the D trait.

Another tendency she has is for her to value others above herself. As princess though it’s more of a title she believes that her mom and the Amazon lily comes first. She’ll put down or put away her own feelings and ambitions if it means she can’t help others. It’s the reason as to why she stayed in the Amazon instead of exploring like she wanted, why she asks questions about the outside world and sees glimpses of it through stories and objects instead of pursing it herself.

Relationships: Hancock, Marigold, Sandersonia, Nightshade, Rayleigh and Shakuyaku, Gloriosa, Salome and Ouroboros

Hancock: Dicentra has a very strong relationship with her mom and looks up to her as her hero (for various reasons). She loves her mom deeply for both her kindness and dedication to protecting the Amazon lily. She knows deep down her mom is a lot more tender than she lets on but puts up a front to protect everyone else (and herself). Even though dicentra wishes to explore the world she follows her mom’s rules of staying in the Amazon Lily knowing there has to be some reason as to why her mom is so insistent on it. Along with this she follows her mom’s rules of hiding her back and binding her wings even if it’s uncomfortable (something Boa wishes she didn’t have to make Dicentra do but does it out of necessity). Her favourite activity with her mom is having her mom brush her hair

Marigold: Dicentra loves her aunt Marigold but is sometimes a little bit intimidated by her. Granted she knows her aunt would never do anything bad but Marigold is sometimes too stoic for Dicentra to read which makes her nervous she’s doing something wrong. Unbeknownst to her Marigold very much loves her but gets worried of messing up and internally panics because she overestimated herself. Dicentra’s favourite memory with Marigold is when she taught her how to make flower crowns

Sandersonia: Dicentra loves hanging out with her Aunt Sandersonia. Unlike with Marigold Sandersonia is more in tune with her emotions so Dicentra is able to read her better and therefore know if she’s bothering her. If Sandersonia isn’t busy with something she’ll often tag along with Dicentra’s exploring of the Amazon lily and play games together. Dicentra’s favorite thing to do with Sandersonia is petting her aunts zoan tail

Nightshade (another oc): Nightshade is Dicentra’s sworn guard and protector assigned by Hancock herself. Dicentra sees Nighshade as her closest companion and as a big sister to her. Though Nightshade sometimes gets frustrated at Dicentra throwing caution to the wind and running off she knows that Nightshade doesn’t typically get legitimately mad unless something really bad happened. Nightshade beside the Boa sisters is the only one who knows of Dicentra’s wings and origins, something the bodyguard takes in the upmost seriousness. Dicentra knows Nightshade isn’t her original name but hasn’t pushed about the subject. Her favourite thing to do with Nightshade is playing hide and seek.

Rayleigh and Shakuyaku: dicentra knows very little about these two but does hold them in high regard hearing they helped her mom and aunts. The most funny thing about this though is that she has no idea Rayleigh is a male (boa taught her men were ugly evil creatures lol) . She’s never met them but she hopes to one day do so.

Gloriosa: dicentra sometimes sneaks out to see the former empress of the Amazon despite being a “traitor” to learn more about the outside world. Though she doesn’t like how her mom and Gloriosa don’t get along well Dicentra holds respect for Gloriosa.

Salome and Ouroboros: Dicentra adores Salome and all the snakes of the Amazon. Her fight or flight instinct of bite first ask questions later was somewhat developed due to watching Salome when she was younger. Dicentra has a snake of the same species as Salome named Ouroboros, aptly named for its penchant for…eating its tail all the time. No one has any idea why boros does this but Dicentra loves her beloved snake even if all it does is act as a necklace for her half the time. Half the time people don’t notice they’re alive if not for their occasional blinking. She loves petting the scales of Salome and Ouroboros, absolutely loves the texture

(Meme break before getting to serious stuff. Nightshade is also included here)

Backstory

Prologue: Josephine

Dicentra’s birth mother Josephine was a lunarian born on the red line and raised with her people. She lived atop the red line in peace for many years, she was particularly gifted in being a graceful flyer amongst others her age but lacked control of her flames. Despite the peace at a young age she could tell something was coming somehow, she had a sixth sense for that thing (observation Haki). Eventually when her people were massacred to build Mary Geoise atop her ancestral home she was taken by a celestial dragon who wanted one of her kind as “apart of his collection” even though that wasn’t technically allowed. This all happened when she was 15.

For Years Josephine was kept in a cell, wings broken and unable to conjure flames even if she tried due to being underfed and weak. She’d spent so long being toyed with and abused with no relief but an empty cell to return to when she was finished being “useful”. Eventually though she got cellmate in the form of the young Boa sisters. For the first time in years Josephine felt something as she stared at the young girls, mirror showing her how much of a shell of her former self she was. She used to be young and free, used to be afraid and now she had felt nothing in years. And staring into the fearful tear stained eyes of these girls she swore to herself they wouldn’t end up like her. Broken and empty.

In that cell in the span of months turned to years Josephine would do her best to protect the sisters. Though she could not always protect them she was able to lessen their suffering. She cared for them, began to see them as her own just as they began to see her as a mother in this hell. Through her wings were broken she’d use them as blankets for them in the damp cold of the cell. Josephine would share the little food she had with them. She’d also tell them stories of her people who once proudly flew the skies, sang in hushed tones the songs passed on from generation to generation. Hell had at least become bareable

Eventually much to her own fear and horror Josephine became pregnant. It at some point was bound to happen but all the same it horrified her for the fact she knew her child would be killed. A bastard to celestial dragon was purged for the fact of “tainting” their holy blood, and that was just for normal cases. She was a lunarian, the people they purged and were still actively being hunting down from how that devil gloated about “owning such a rare species”. She had to hid this and hope for the best, and that’s what she did with the help of the Boa sisters.

Somehow hiding her pregnancy was a task in of itself but it had been somehow done, but with that came the actual delivery. Weak and Malnourished as she already was without proper medical care in a dark cell wasn’t a good mix. She’s left at deaths doorstep clinging barely to life after the deed was said and done. The only upside to it all was she felt that sixth sense again, things were changing and her daughters would be free. Before letting herself rest she makes the girls promise to never tell her daughter of her heritage, to protect her and love her as she loved them. Tearfully the girls agree, Hancock vowing she’d raise Dicentra as her own. With how Josephine falls asleep the girls believe her to be dead, and in a way she is…but not fully yet

The mass escape of slaves happens and her daughters flee, through this all Josephine laid on deaths door in her cell. She was ok with dying, had for so long dreamt of such a thing, but anger had let her from not dying quite yet. Half dead and powered only by the knowledge she’d die Josephine gets up. Broken wings crack and move, the pain so blinding it became numb. She had to protect her daughters, had to erase all trace of them here lest a trail is somehow left. And despite never knowing to master her flames she ignites because she herself is the kindling. The already aflame Mary geoise is lit with newer more intense fire that burned to the fire. Josephine burns with mother’s rage and a single wish. Cleanse her homeland with flame just as it was meant to be oh so long ago.

Josephine kills her tormentor and bastard of a man who’s father to her daughter, watches the flames bath him in agony as she holds his face in burning hands. Scarlet eyes glaring down at him as everything burned, her once small flickering flame behind her neck so intense and big it hurt to look at and consumed the background. Flesh melts and blood sizzles in her palms. Josephine dies kneeling on the red earth of her home, staring up to the smouldering sky with broken wings and an outstretched hand to the heavens she so loved. Her scream echoes out among flickering flames and chaos, echoes and reverberates into the sky before turning to nothingness. She burns so intensely that nothing of herself and twenty feet surrounding her body is left besides ash, soot and a trail of bloody feathers littering the ground just outside the crater as her scream of agony faded.

Chapter 1: Childhood from the eyes of a mother

Dicentra grows up on a lie just as everyone else of the Amazon lily does. From the time she could walk and speak she’s told of how her mother and aunts slayed a fierce-some gorgon that had killed her birth mother which led to her being adopted. That gorgon cursed her mom, aunts and herself with a curse bared on their backs. For her mom and her aunts it’s an odd symbol and for Dicentra it’s her wings. But all the same Dicentra knows that her mom is her hero (and though that story is a lie it’s still true she’s her hero) and the young princess stared at her mother in awe and such innocence. It’s something that eats Hancock up inside, that she’s lying to her daughter about everything. Of her wings, her lineage and birth mother and yet she made that vow and she won’t go back in it.

All this leads to though is Hancock being fiercely protective of her daughter, not just for the fact of her blood but because she wants better for Dicentra. She wants her daughter to live happy not plagued by the burden and shame that she and her sisters suffers daily. The memories, the pain, the loss of it all. She wants Dicentra to live the life Hancock wished she had, of never being ripped away from a safe and loving home to be hurt over and over again. It’s why she keeps a close eye on her, especially in the early years where everything is still fresh in her mind of the escape. Perhaps she’s a tad overbearing at times but knowing her daughter is happy and safe within the walls of her nation is all that matters. But as time progresses she does become more lenient towards letting Dicentra do things on her own with the only condition being a bodyguard accompanying her.

At 6 Dicentra has Nightshade assigned as her personal bodyguard and protector. Before then it was randomly assigned guards or Salome who took over watching over the already curious and slightly mischievous young girl. Much to Hancock’s displeasure her daughter takes to running off into the jungles of the Amazon but at the same time she can’t help but be happy her daughter takes her freedom in such strive and not forgranted. Dicentra talks of all range of things she came across once she comes home, from rocks she found to bird feathers pressed in pages. Nightshade with now wild tangled hair standing beside Dicentra posed and proper even with a few leaves and sticks lodged in once straight black hair.

By 7 Hancock decides to have Dicentra be taught proper manners and help her find some hobbies that aren’t just running off into the brush. It’s there that Dicentra finds her talent in Dance and playing instruments, she specifically likes playing the Erhu traditionally played in the Amazon lily. It’s a hobby especially Hancock enjoys because it quickly becomes a source of calm when old memories plague her mind. Perhaps a lifetime ago she would’ve picked up the instrument as well, but now she resides herself to listening to old tunes that would play before that fateful day on a ship leaving home. Whilst she listens she holds her daughter, time seems to slip away and for once all is well for those minutes playing song.

At 9 Dicentra begins to do more things around the Amazon lily. Knowing the jungles area and documenting the plants she finds ends up being useful to apothecaries and doctors on the island. Along with this she starts to also help in delivering things and having a hand in public events. It’s here that she begins to realize what being a princess means even if it’s more a title than anything. To the Amazon lily her mom is cold and respected, the citizens of the island fear and love her and Hancock knows this. They don’t see her compassion behind closed doors but Dicentra does. If her mom is the cold and cool leader that in secret cared, then Dicentra would be a sliver in that door for others to see that kindness. She tells the truth, that her mom asked her to try and find ways to help the other kuja women. As princess the women of the island love her and she notices she means something to everyone there. For the women of the island Dicentra is their kind princess in contrast to their lovely but cruel empress, to Hancock Dicentra is what little hope is left in the world.

At 10 the young princess starts asking Hancock more about the outside world and it leaves the empress silently terrified. They aren’t bad questions, moreso just innocent ones of if places she’d been to were like home. But to Hancock they signify the end. She knew from the moment her bright eyed daughter began to run before learning to walk, began looking out to the sea on the horizon and climbed to the tops of the snake statues overlooking the entire tribe she’d one day be curious enough to leave. That this island would become too small to satisfy her need to see and experience the world. A selfish part of her wished that the luxuries she spoiled her with and the nights in which she’d hug her close whilst promising she’d always be safe here would disway her, but Hancock always knew because of the spark in her eyes that she’d one day leave. It terrifies her and yet she knows one day she’ll have to because she can’t take away Dicentra’s freedom just as hers had been taken. But for now she was safe, leaving was in the future but now she was safe in her arms.

By 11 Dicentra waits by the docks as Hancock sets off to yet another warlord meeting that would go nowhere. Hancock when her daughter was younger would leave her with Sandersonia as she and Marigold would set off into the ocean. But Hancock decides that this time her daughter was old enough to last a few days on her own (despite how terror still grips her heart). Nightshade swears she’ll look after the young girl and none of the Boa’s doubt that. Not when the ex-assassin turned bodyguard has the same look Hancock does when the young girl does something as simple as gifting a flower. It’s a look of wanting to protect something so desperately because it was one of the last pieces of kindness in their world. None of the Boa sisters trust easily, especially not Hancock, and especially if it came to her daughter. But Hancock trusted Nightshade, and that was a feat in of itself. And so Hancock sets off on her ship, trusting her beloved daughter to her bodyguard and ex-empress of the Amazon. Though it’s only for a few days Dicentra helps keep things afloat alongside Gloriosa.

Chapter 2: where the story begins

By 13 Dicentra knows the Amazon lily like the back of her hand. She knows every trail, bend of the river and cove there’s to find in the lush landscape populated by snaking vines and flowers. Pollen coats the air in sweet smells as the distinct smell of rain coming sets in for the young princess and her shadow. But the Rowling black clouds did little to dismay the young girl, if anything it only made her more excited as she quickened her pace and hopped over twisting roots. Having a storm in the calm belt was a rare occurrence, the lack of wind and still waters kept for a stagnant environment but once in awhile a storm would drift from the grand line and breeze briefly through the still water and die off. It made for decent rainfall and any occasional change in weather from the hot climate was always something welcome to the young girl. Nightshade would agree in that retrospect, from the few moments she talked of times past was she talked of a place described as an eternal flowering spring, not cold but not yet summer (though apparently a northern area had snow). So Dicentra raced to the many hidden beaches and coves of the Amazon lily.

its towering cliffs her beloved home had many secret coves beside the main waterway into the heart of the city. Many laid forgotten to time, old boats used generations ago laying still in soft sand that crunched beneath her feet. Typically there was no tide at these hidden beaches and coves, just stagnant water lifting at a certain level against the sand. No white foam decorating its edges like lace if not for the storm stirring the waves. She can’t help but giggle at the sensation, even if her stockings got wet in the ordeal. A few feet away nightshade stood as the wind blew past, still and silent yet eased by now dropping of rain on warm skin.

The rain is cool and refreshing, trailing down and leaving hair damp.

But calm only lasts a moment.

Typically when a storm blew through the calm belt it was mild at worst and calm rain at its least. It was almost always that way with nothing to keep feeding its trajectory as it fizzled out and died.

But sometimes depending on how large the storm was prior it could survive long enough to be just as powerful as it was in the grand line.

One second Dicentra is standing at the waters edge basking in the cool rain, the other second she’s dragged in by once cerulean blue waves that became crashing cold darkness. The void encompasses the entirety of her as she’s choked from air and the cold grasping at her bones. Instinct sets in immediately but the shock of near icey waves and pulling current tossing her like a rag doll make it impossible to do so. Helplessly she floats in near darkness as storm clouds blocked out sun and made the waters a chilling void. The image of complete utter darkness as she reaches blindly engraved itself in her mind. Never once has she felt such a fear of the dark. When she was younger she hadn’t feared it, rather was intrigued to explore it instead. But now it grips and drags her down down, down into is abyss.

But then a hand appears from the dark, Nightshade.

Twitchy and icey fingers grasp the stronger hand that then pulls.

She lands on the old rickety boat with a thud and immediately sea water streams out in pained coughs. Wind blows wildly tussling hair as waves crash against the edges of the boat. She can barely see over wet hair clinging to her face but she feels Nightshade hold her for dear life and above the yelling waves her protector screams to hold onto her with all she can.

Dicentra does as says and feels a colossal pain hit her before a once friendly darkness consumes her vision.

Chapter 3: turning point

Waking up is typically a calming routine for Dicentra. If mom wasn’t on a warlord meeting she’d brush sit down with her and her mom would brush her hair. It was a daily tradition, on in which her mother would hum quietly and gently comb through her hair. Sometimes she’d check to see if the pink dye of her hair was loosing its pigment, if so she’d ask if she wanted to leave it natural or dye it once more. Dicentra always opted to dye it again. Crushed up flowers mixed with imported hair products then used to stain once lily White hair again. That was their tradition together alongside at night having mom look at her wings and care for them. Apologizing as she helped her wings molt or placing a soothing cream on the sore hurting appendages. So waking up one morning with sunlight streaming on her face on linen instead of the familiar feeling of silk is odd. Not bad but it doesn’t make sense for a few moments as her sleep plagued brain thought through what had happened.

She remembered a storm, darkness gripping her, coughing up slat water that burned her lungs and then clutching Nightshade for dear life.

Nightshade!

Despite her body feeling like wet bricks Dicentra finds herself dragging herself from the small bed she was laid on. Blindly she reaches out expecting to find her closest companion besides her family. Instead though she meets something else instead.

Nightshade was a lithe person. beautifully strong despite her lack of visible muscles. She used to ask her shadow of a bodyguard how she was able to be so strong without being as muscular as aunty Marigold. The quiet woman would simply hum, saying something about she isn’t strong but has good instincts and reflexes. Point being in all of this the arm she grabbed wasn’t that of Nightshade, it was muscular

“Oh yoi? You’re awake finally.” The voice is weirdly deep and as her eyes adjust Dicentra is faced with someone crouching down to her level. Blue eyes stare at her from behind glasses….this was a weird looking woman.

This is where things would come into motion

I’ll leave it at this for now. But rest assured she has more story

#one piece #one piece boa hancock #boa hancock #oc #Dicentra D Boa #one piece marigold #one piece Sandersonia #boa sandersonia #boa marigold #platonic

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mdhwrites · 28 days

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Was Boscha Mistreated In S3?

TL:DR Boscha is actually one of the best written parts of S3, mostly because she actually has some efficiency to how she was written. This does not mean the writing succeeds in its goals because the misguided priorities and management of S3 of TOH is why this isn't some sort of praise. It is the ALMOST success in three specials that I think are objectively a complete failure of writing.

@hinobodyishere wanted a follow up to their previous ask about Boscha and I at first dismissed and deleted it, partially due to misinterpretation. That since we did get Boscha in S3, how was she handled? Was she given respect in regards to the trauma foisted upon her?

Well... Yeah actually. For the most part she is. They genuinely tried to give her a sympathetic character arc and their fumbling of it didn't have to do with disrespect, it had to do with one of the DUMBEST decisions of all of S3 I think. Not one that breaks themes just... Why would you do this? I have NO explanation for why the choice while I can at least tell you a concept for why other things were done.

But let's start with the good and that's that in a season that has some of the absolute least efficient storytelling I have EVER seen, especially in terms of wrapping shit up, Boscha keeps her biggest strength as a character and that is weirdly subtlety and in turn efficiency. Anyone who loves Boscha can probably back me up on this that so many of her weird quirks as a character come from small choices. I've talked in the past about how Amity is the ONLY person she never is mean or cruel to, even once Amity abandons her and that shows how subservient she was to Amity, not the other way around like most people portray it. This also coincides with her response to Luz coming to die. "Wow, you're a really good friend." And that implies she genuinely does understand friendship and loyalty and from what we can tell, she may be mean to even those around her but she is ALWAYS loyal and faithful to those she cares about. She knows what being a good friend is.

I bring this up not just to praise Boscha but also to lead into her trauma. We are explicitly shown her losing essentially her last two friends. Any trace of what her past was is GONE because of the Collector (your reminder that the Collector is a fucking monster btw). She is the last of her friend group. The last one still carrying the torch for what she thought reality was before Amity kicked her to the curb out of nowhere. Skara presumably did the same to be a part of the Entrails. Her reality is already fracturing and it was her own failure this time to protect them that led them to die. She is all that exists of the Banshees anymore. This is reinforced by how Miki manipulates her. She threatens Boscha with being in danger. With being vulnerable, something she's not used to because she always saw herself as Queen Bee and either sharing a throne with Amity or by herself. She is desperately holding onto what little she has left.

Willow's scene next is... Up and down to put it mildly. It is mostly to dogpile on the already heavy and EXTREMELY forced shit they're doing with Willow. A reminder: No one is asking fuck all of Willow this episode, few EVER have, and yet 'Dependable Willow' comes out of fucking nowhere. So while Boscha talking about the weight of responsibility is actually good for her, it is in line with the rest of Boscha's feeling that she's pressured to keep walls up against the world, it's not really anything new and it has little to do with her current trauma. At best, it helps explain why she's leading Hexside because she's the one who actually will take responsibility.

Then we get to the scene I mostly LOVE. Yes, I am a Lumischa shipper but I don't like it for the unrequited love angle. Like I said before, Boscha has lost EVERYTHING. She has lost way more than any of our 'trauma' victims amongst the Hexside crew. Even Hunter was never alone like she has been for MONTHS after having to watch TWO of her friends die instead of just one like Hunter did. The closest he ever got was the time between Hollow Mind and Labyrinth Runners which was like what? A week? It is genuinely incredible how shitty Boscha's life has been the entire time since the Collector showed up. Miki isn't even really a friend. She feeds into Boscha's fears and paranoia. She is actively trying to pull out the most damaged and worst parts of Boscha, essentially using her PTSD against her, for again, MONTHS.

So here is her chance to get SOMETHING back. To reverse the original sin that shattered her world. Finally, the Blight mentality that she must have at least gotten some of from Amity that she's lived her life with can come back. Amity can come back. That's why she's desperate and pleading with her. Then-

"Boscha, you're hurting me!"

I... There is something about the delivery of that line that makes my skin crawl in a way I can't 100% justify. It's not even out of character. It's her last chance after all so she'll go pretty far to keep Amity there. It's just... Not many characters physically hurt each other and Boscha doing it here comes across, especially after the faux confession, like a needy ex getting ready to assault their old lover. For an episode that is essentially trying to redeem Boscha, I don't think it's a good choice. She's been villainous enough already, you didn't need to go that extra step but that may just be me.

But, writing wise, this scene is correct. It is her darkest hour. The moment that forces her to self reflect and choose a path. Is she a Banshee, or is she a slave? Does she stand proud like she always has but now for the right reasons or does she cower in villainy?

And we don't get a proper climax. Then again, neither did the episode.

We're going on a tangent but bear with me because it sets up what I think needed to happen. See, Boscha showing up and promising to kick Kikimora's ass off screen is... Bad. It's not a climax, it's instead tepid and weak, complete with, in the SECOND TO LAST EPISODE, "Don't think we're square" or whatever the fuck Willow says to Boscha. Why? Why are you STILL kicking narrative cans down the lane instead of actually giving any fucking resolutions? It's so indicative of the entire problem of S3 just having no fucking clue, nor interest, in wrapping anything up or giving any sort of real satisfaction to narrative plot points IT CREATES.

Worse yet is tying this around Kikimora of all people! I actually don't hate her as a character but like Boscha, the minute Belos is dead, her utility is over. Her dramatic weight has been gone for over half a season because ever since Falls and Follies, she's been a gag character. Yet, she's canonically beaten our main characters as many times as Belos has and unlike Belos, the main cast has never beaten her themselves, especially in a fair fight if you want to count Hunter's fight against her while she's drugged as a win against her. This is a character who is going to get the same reaction Luz gave: "You again? REALLY!?" because like... Why? Of all the characters to bring back, why bring back Kikimora as a final antagonist? I actually do have explanations for that, it's part of why S3 could never have been good even with a longer version of itself, but different blog.

No, it is the fact that despite bringing her back, despite giving her another objective win against our heroes... She isn't beat. We actually don't even know if Hexside succeeds in beating her. In this adventure show, the villain could have just peaced the fuck out and kept doing whatever she wanted instead of getting her ass beat and giving us a real action scene, something that is sorely lacking in For the Future. It makes no sense narratively, by genre convention, or thematically. And don't claim they ran out of time because that means they kept Kikimora through however many drafts it takes to make an episode and somehow decided to never write in how to actually give a climax to this episode that isn't just Camila and Luz talking about a subject that ANY villain could inspire by kicking Luz's ass.

So. What should have been here?

My suggestion is a roughly three minute trick, maybe less. I'm not asking for a lot of time, you can probably get it from not bothering to show Belos during the main portion of the episode and let him showing up at the Collector's Castle be his whole appearance because the foreshadowing of Caleb leads to literally nothing. In this fight scene though, we'll get our redemption.

Luz is lost and they're still struggling against Kikimora. Suddenly, Kikimora gasps and fires past them. Her shot shows scattered stone and smoke... And Belos walks through it. He smirks at Kiki and asks, "Ah, I see you're still as impulsive as ever." Kiki fires again as Belos gets past Hunter who is seperating the others from Belos. They all see a stone pillar rise at the last second and explode. Amity sees Belos wink at her while hidden by the smoke and looks across the way. Emira winks back at her.

Belos waves a hand and from the Earth, an abomination of rock, dirt and plant begins to rise. He speaks again but we don't look at Belos, we see Emira with Barkus next to her down a potion, her eyes glow with oracle magic and she speaks through that, channeling Belos more purely than she could otherwise. Kikimora screams at him that he's dead and starts to pummel the abomination when a screech sounds from above. Viney drops a potion from Puddles and it crashes into Kikimora's cockpit. From it, tentacles comes out, trying to grab Kikimora but instead knocking her out of it. She falls. The ground zooms close. She shuts her single eye to brace for impact.

It doesn't come.

She opens her eye. She is met by three.

Boscha keeps her face close and her voice low as she says, "You tried to silence me. You tried to take the last thing a Banshee has to her. The thing that anyone who knew our team, knew my friends, would be familiar with. The only thing that'd confuse them is that it's not a nerd in my hand but a little snake. I for one welcome the change." Boscha's face is lit up and you can see fire dancing in her eyes as she says, "Now, like a Banshee, let me hear you SCREAM!"

And Kikimora's scream scatters the birds as a pillar of flame erupts. We don't see the body, to keep it ambiguous and for pacing. Instead, Viney shows up to give a bit of healing and tell them they can go, we've got this. Then everyone leaves and joins back up with Luz to be kidnapped by the Collector.

In this version, we get a real climax and an actual send off to Hexside. Besides Skara, who could be shown coordinating things for a moment, we get a send off of all the named characters we know. I didn't mention Matt but his construction magic is there. So is illusions. So is a lot of types of magic working together, you know, like the show says is better, to pull this off. True unity between more characters than we get in the FINALE. And then a final moment for Boscha to make it clear she's still her but she knows who deserves her rage now rather than using it simply to stay on top.

It is A resolution to the core plot of the episode. You know, that thing that never happened, instead we got the SECOND resolution of Luz's character arc and that was it. Even if people might have still called it filler, it would at least have served as not just a cameo for Hexside but a curtain call for it that also highlights the changes to the kids there that Luz introduced. It would have SOME sort of point besides being there for Willow/Huntlow fans and a very forced "I want to be understood" that only makes sense from a meta perspective and makes Luz look like an over demanding bitch in canon.

But we didn't get anything like that. Why? ...I don't fucking know. I use a lot of words to try to explain shit but I've got nothing for you. The best I can is that it's because the writers felt obligated to include Hexside but no one actually cared about it or its characters and I just don't know why you would write that way, not when you had so much else to wrap up.

But for wrapping up this blog: Boscha continues to be one of the most weirdly nuanced characters of all of TOH and I kind of have to assume at this point it was entirely on accident. If attention would have ruined her, I would rather they disrespect her and let her stand tall as the time the broken clock was right. See you next tale.

======+++++======

This is your reminder that at chapter 28, Boscha hijacked my over 300k word behemoth, with over 100 chapters, and essentially became the main character of a story that was supposed to be Lumischa. I LOVE writing this bitch and have thought way too much about her.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#boscha #the owl house #toh #the owl house criticism #toh critical

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maleyanderecafe · 9 months

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The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince (Webcomic)

Created by: Jang namu/Hagwa

Genre: Isekai

This one took me a while to read, but The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince, or I Became the Wife of the Monstrous Crown Prince is genuinely very sweet. Most of it takes place when the two male leads are children and only goes into a big time jump around Chapter 70. The male lead is the yandere in this one, though like I said, considering that he's mostly fairly young, he's much more of the clingy and protective type. There is another yandere that also appears in one of the flashbacks that the main character, Athena has. As of writing this, there are about 80 chapters with the story moving into it's third season fairly soon.

The story starts out with Athena isekaing after waking up in a lake, with her husband, Blake, worried sick over her. After waking up, she immediately goes to find Blake, who seems extremely scared of going near her as he is cursed. Athena, who seems to not care, comforts him and promises to be by his side, which leads to Blake getting very attached to her. Athena promises that his curse will be broken by the age 18, knowing that her sister, Diana will be the one who breaks it. Through this, Athena slowly starts to help with Blake's diet, fires the one in charge as he is embezzling money and thinks about ways to prevent future deaths. While doing all of this, she ends up meeting Richard, a guy that the original Athena had a crush on. Current Athena takes a dislike to him because of the fact that later on he causes both Blake and his father to die, and ends up rejecting him. Blake ends up defending Athena when he tries to strike back, and Athena ends up comforting Blake afterwards when Richard calls him a monster. Athena silently proclaims that she will stay with Blake until Diana is able to undo the curse, to at which point she will have to leave him. We find that Richard seemed like he was originally going to use Athena as a way to take over the kingdom and displace Blake, but since that failed, he has to find another way to go around it. Eventually, Athena ends up meeting Blake's dad, the crown prince to talk about why she ended up firing the one in charge, with this leading him to accept her as his daughter in law. The crown prince sends a spy named Unhan to watch over Blake and Athena as due to the curse he cannot touch or get near Blake without being affected by his curse. As the story goes on, Unhan slowly starts to fall in love with Athena, and we also learn just how much the crown prince cares for his son. Athena gets nightmares about her previous life, with Blake comforting her as she had an abusive father. This time when meeting her father though, she's able to stand up for herself, being able to push him away as he knows that he's trying to use her to take over the crown. The crown prince ends up adopting her (well in the, I will house you kind of way, not actually adopting her) and building her a garden after he sees the abuse that her father gives her. She also learns to dance at the ball, though promises to only have her first dance with Blake.

She ends up making friends with Diana at the ball and introducing her to Blake while she tries to find a way to stop Blake's curse. Blake and Diana end up fighting over who likes Athena more. Athena spends more and more time learning how to break Blake's curse, tracing back the entire thing to a kingdom that fell due to the Goddess of Light. Blake and Diana end up training together, with Diana vowing to get stronger to protect Athena in the future. Diana gets abused by her father as he doesn't want her to learn how to become a knight, and forces her to spy on Athena, else he marries her off. This of course, never comes to fruition as Diana ends up telling Athena what their father is up to. This leads to Blake talking with Athena's father about what happens, and threatening him by showing off what his curse can really do (which burns the father). Diana ends up going to military school (more or less) and Athena ends up meeting Richard again, who is mourning over the death of someone. Knowing that this is where Richard turns to the dark side, Athena tries to give him words of reassurance in hopes that he doesn't go down that path. Blake finds out that Unhan is still following them and confronts him about it, and not too soon after, Athena finds out about him as well.

With this and the crown prince's permission, Athena travels to the cursed kingdom where Blake's curse originated from. There she reads the tablets there to find out more information on the curse as well as some of the memories of the people who were involved. She ends up following some creatures deeper into the castle (with Unhan's help), finding out that the curse actually originated a lot later than what was previously thought, before having to go back. When Athena comes back, she finds that Blake has collapsed due to the curse. Athena is able to stay by him until he gets better, before the two mend a kind of rift that the two had. We also get to see Unhan's younger brother, Baekhan, who is chosen by the god of light and her vessel. Baekhan makes a deal with Athena, stating that he can translate some of the old language that she saw if she can convince Unhan to come back with him to the capital. She succeeds of course, and Baekhan ends up accidentally causing Athena to see memories, finding out that she does have the power of light, the very power that should break Blake's curse. The crown prince has some cute moments with both Blake and Athena after he says goodbye to Unhan. Athena ends up going to the ball, where part of the coup against Blake is revealed, with the crowned prince jailing one of Richard's uncles. Blake's curse disappears the day after with Athena realizing that she doesn't want to let go of Blake that easily. This ends the coup with Richard's family, as Blake is no longer in danger of dying from it (as the curse often kills them before they reach adulthood). Around this time the door of darkness (that's what it's called) from the cursed country opens, with the crown prince going after it. Athena ends up going as well to try to prevent him from dying (as in the story that is where he originally died). Before that though, we see that the curse comes back to Blake for a bit, with Athena realizing that the markings are actually a cry for help from the Goddess of Light herself. She ends up being sucked inside of the door and views the memories of the past.

In the past a girl named Liontel and the goddess of light, Serpania were friends, with Liontel learning how to use light from her. Liontel was in love with Lakshoul, basically the last reincarnation of Blake but with black hair, while Serpania was in love with Phillip, basically the last reincarnation of Richard but with white hair. Ser decides that she will marry Phillip, and promises to transfer all of her powers to him so that she can become human. At this time Liontel and Lakshoul were going to get married too and Liontel ends up talking to Phillip about their weddings. Phillip seems jealous of Liontel's wedding, and when Liontel tells him to try to stop Serpania from transferring her powers, he gets angry. This ends up with Serpania feeling betrayed by Liontel and running away with Phillip, ending with Liontel's wedding being cancelled by a terrible plague. Liontel and Lakshoul stay behind to try to find a cure for the plague, but Lakshoul ends up getting cursed instead before dying. At this point, Phillip suddenly shows up to bring light to the kingdom and become it's king, along with Ser. Phillip ends up throwing Ser aside as she has no more powers, and tries to marry Liontel, revealing that he was just using Ser to gain her powers and end up with Liontel. Liontel finds out that Ser knew that Phillip liked Liontel, but ended up playing along in hopes that he would love her back. Ser reveals that after Phillip took her powers, he used it to spread the plague around. Phillip ends up imprisoning Liontel in the castle for many years, with Ser giving her hope that she will take back the powers from Phillip to set her free. However, what happens instead is that the castle goes on fire, and Phillip ends up revealing that he was the one who likely started the fire and sacrificed Ser. After being imprisoned, Liontel finds out that Phillip lied on the stone to state that Lakshoul was the one who caused the plagues and did nothing about it. Liontel learns that Ser is using the cursed markings as a cry for help, however, Phillip ends up killing the child that has it before Liontel can do anything about it. After viewing all of these memories, Athena ends up coming back to the body of Ser after seven years. Ser, who is angered and bitter, believes that Blake would never love Athena for who she is and the two end up swapping bodies, with Athena in Ser's body and unable to talk or write to Blake. Blake, who has grown up, seems to recognize that it's Athena in Ser's body, however, Athena tries to deny it, as Ser's body will die in about 100 days and she believes that the ending with Diana is still inevitable. Ser tries to get Athena to kill Blake to show that their love is worthless, but she refuses. The last couple of chapters so far show that Ser is trying to trick Blake within Athena's body.

Because the series spends a lot of time with the two as children, we get to see more of their cute encounters and their eventual growth of romance, which I personally think is very nice. I'm pretty biased towards cute characters, so this something that was up my lane. The entire story feels very circular with it's way of writing, and I think it's nice that it's able to develop such a backstory with its world, specifically on the concept of curses and the Goddess of Light. Just as the story starts talking about the two, so does near the end Athena has to experience the same thing, and so does Athena show kindness to Blake while he's suffering with said illness, so does Blake show back the same kindness to Athena, even when he's not sure it's even her. There's also the loop of Athena being so sure to let go of Blake to be with Diana so that it will break the curse, coming to terms with the fact that she indeed wants to stay and then attempting to make Blake stay with Diana because that's how the original story was and that her body will not last long enough to make it worth it. A lot of people will probably simp over the crowned prince, but he is honestly a good dad and we can see where Blake gets his kindness from in the first place. There are some parts that kind of held my suspension of disbelief like when Athena very coincidentally finds Korean food in an otherwise European isekai type of story, or that Richard kind of was just overthrown really easily, but overall, I think that the story did a good job with it's pacing and characters, even if I did kind of wish we got to see Diana more because her arc of becoming a knight seemed pretty interesting. Ser is probably going to get a happy ending despite the (frankly) terrible things that she's done, both either on purpose or out of naivety, which is kind of a bummer cuz it's a dick move to stick your friend into a body that will not only die in a 100 days but cannot communicate to her one love while also stealing your friends body to try to seduce said love.

There are technically two yanderes in the story, Blake, our main male lead and Phillip, the one who caused all of the problems in the past with Liontel. Starting with Blake, he gets very attached to Athena pretty early one due to his isolation and everyone treating him like a monster. I'm a big sucker for the "scared of interaction because I think I'm a monster" kind of thing and them being told that they're not a monster and in turn they get attached type of scenario so it was really cute watching Blake having to go through this. Plus, he's just kind of adorable like that, and I wish his personality would have been the same when he grew up, but alas, that's never how it goes. Blake as a lot of MLs of this type are, generally is pretty tame- he's mostly very clingy towards Athena, gets jealous when she gets near other guys (namely Phillip and Unhan) and can be protective when need be, like when he was able to harm Athena's dad for abusing her. He also gets pettily jealous like with Diana or when he believes that she's danced with someone other than him when she goes to the ball for the first time. Like I said though, he's pretty light for a yandere, not even really attacking anyone who didn't deserve it, like Athena's dad. He is pretty sweet, even when he gets older, still having that more protective side as we saw when he was younger.

Phillip on the other hand is on the completely different end of the spectrum. A lot of his moves on dating Ser and even having a family and kids are more on him gaining power so he can be with Liontel, since he honestly seemed pretty indifferent because he's only ever really loved Liontel, despite her already loving and being engaged to Lakshoul. He's incredibly manipulative, not only tricking Ser into taking her powers and using them to cause the plague that destroyed his country (and Lakshoul), but also ultimately blaming the entire thing on Lakshoul in the tablets that he writes for his death. He pretty much only comes back after Lakshoul dies in the vain hope that Liontel will stay with him, and when that doesn't work, he ends up imprisoning her inside of the castle until he's forced to burn it down and trap her best friend thorough sacrifice. Things only really go worse from there as he kills a child that has the screaming begging of Ser trying to be freed as well as any other person that has the curse on them, eventually, succumbing to the curse itself. All because he wanted to be with Liontel. If that isn't a dark and tragic yandere, I don't really know what is. He is a very good villain yandere though, I will give it that since he pretty much single handedly caused the downfall of the entire kingdom just so he could be with Liontel and caused future generations to still inherit this curse while still somehow ending up being the hero based on the inscriptions.

Overall, I actually did enjoy this webcomic. I feel like this one was kind of more biased than usual just because I really like Blake as a male lead (which is something that doesn't normally happen for me) and because I actually did find the entire lore of the cursed town with Phillip, Liontel and Ser compelling as it's something that's spilled into the current story as well. If you are interested in this story, please give it a try.

#The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince #I Became the Wife of the Monstrous Crown Prince #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #ongoing #webcomic

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