#I didn't see it coming either I feel like I crawled out of my GRAVE I am a zombie

[spielzeugkaiser]

In the spirit of one of my christmas traditions (funny how that evolved) I have crawled out of my hiding spot for some christmassy prompts!

Give me a bunch of characters and I'll draw them under a mistletoe 🌿

[strawberrynightmere]

Bad Cats!!! [Yandere Andrew Graves x female reader]

Warning ⚠️: yandere tendencies, alternate universe, ruining dates, will add more latter, this is short.

A/n: to those who harassed the creator of the intentionally disturbing and grosse horror game, I wish a big ol' FUCK YOU.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

If you were honest with yourself, this was your fault. Though you shouldn't beat yourself up about it, you should be surprised by the other hand.

From either of your cats, you expected this from Ashley, but Andrew attacking your date? Makes you really think.

Your date didn't like it one bit and stormed out of your apartment. You obviously did chase after them to check if they were okay, and then got rejected in a hurtful way, too. Calling you a future cat lady who's gonna die old and alone.

To say your attraction for them instantly dropped to a -1000 was an understatement. You'd understand if they left because they were allergic or something, but insulting any cat lady and saying you were gonna die old and alone simply because you have two cats was just a jackass thing to do.

Flopping on your couch face first, you groan into the cushions in frustration. It's been so long since you had a date that went well, and a good fuck too.

"Meow."

You lift your head up to see Andrew sitting in front of you. The cat leans down and licks your face. Sitting up, you lift Andrew to your eye level.

"I should be mad at you. However, you did save me from what possibly could've been." Andrew just rubs his face on yours just for some more affection.

"Hehe! That's enough. Let's get you something to eat." Those words were like some form of a summon because Ashley appeared on your shoulder without any sound.

You went into the kitchen and poured some food into their bowls, and went to grab something for yourself from the fridge.

While sitting at the dining table, you contemplate if you should make a phone call or not.

Oh, what the hell you planned to sleep in anyway.

You immediately call your friend to tell her how it went.

"It didn't go good, did it?"

"Well gee, Nina! What do you think about how it went?!" Irritated with her instant and correct assumption, you use a sarcastic reply.

"Alright! Tell me what happened."

Much better.

"It was going well at first. I was feeling it. They were feeling it, too."

"Get to the point."

"Getting there. But when we got to my place, Andrew wasn't feeling it." You hear her laughing in amusement over the phone.

"I'm serious! He attacked them, and then they said some real out of pocket stuff to me."

She's still laughing.

"I'm sorry, Andrew? Are you sure it wasn't Ashley?"

Alright, just because they were both black cats, it didn't mean you couldn't tell the difference between them. You told her that a million times.

"If you're just gonna laugh, then I'll hang up."

"Sorry! Sorry. I just didn't expect it."

You sigh. "Whatever."

"Listen, let's talk tomorrow, I'm going to bed early."

"Alright." You hang up.

"Should've called Julia instead."

You jolt in surprise when you see Andrew sitting on the table, staring at you. "We talked about this." Actually, you talked, were either of them listening or not was a mystery. You place him on the floor and put your empty dishes in the dishwasher and decide you should call it a night and head to bed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once, Andrew was sure you were deep asleep. He changed into his human form and crawled in bed with you.

"You should've seen your face, Andy, I was so sure you were gonna claw their eyes out." Ashley, who was still in her cat form, spoke.

"Why are you still here?" Andrew whispered irritatedly.

"Oh, come on, I'm living the life of luxury. Why should I leave?" Andrew just rolled his eyes at his sister's excuse, but he knew she'd rather eat glass than admit that she got attached to you.

Deciding to ignore her, Andrew continued to cuddle up to you.

"Aww, you stiw angwy youw giwfwiend bwout someone ewse home?" Now that wasn't needed.

"Shut up."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: it wasn't that good, but it wasn't that bad.

[juelzsstuff]

Telling armin about your crush (spoiler it's him)

!sfw! idk how to write i didn't pass english class dont come at me.

you two were best friends since childhood and you've always had a crush on him even a little more than a crush and the two of you never spared any details when it came to your lives. you often hungout with jean, connie and sasha and mostly went on missions with their group. you two were talking around a camp fire to catch up after everyone had gone off to sleep, too deep in conversation to head to bed.

————————————————————

"imagine if the captain saw us up still, he'd probably make us dig each others grave" you say laughing quietly. "yeah i know but hey at least we wouldn't be dying along as a titan snack" he smiled back at the thought of you two being buried next to each other with matching headstones. A memory sparks in your mind, "omg i forgot to tell you", you turn toward him ready to spill your latest gossip, something you two did regularly. "i went out to go do my cleaning in the mess hall and i saw the hottest man i have ever seen in my entire life and okay so my first thought was holy shit, my second was the realization that i looked like i just crawled out of a pile of horse shit and i was already staring at him and yk what this man did" you pause covering your face in embarrassment. armin has a huge smile on his face waiting to hear how badly you fumbled, "what did he do?" you slide your hands off your face and turn toward him putting a hand on his leg to brace yourself from what you are about to admit "he came up to me because i'm staring still and said 'are you okay, did you come from the infirmary?' and i just made a weird noise that was supposed to be words and walked off". armin starts laughing trying to hold back, "you need serious help, there's no coming back from that y/n", you respond half laughing half fake crying "I KNOW". the laughter dies down and armin speaks up "so what did he look like?" you try to think of what he looked like and draw a blank, only remember some key points, "he had like brown hair and was sort of tall definitely shorter than you.....i guess now that i think about it, i really didn't see his face so he was probably average looking. not really my type". armin chuckles and he asks, "so what is your type then".

you think for a moment, a pang of anxiety runs through you. you've always pushed down your feelings for him and just enjoyed your friendship but tonight you might as well get a little bold. you think for a moment and look up at the starry sky, "i like smart guys yk? like the ones who aren't just a feral idiot ready to pick a fight or so full of themselves that it's annoying and weird". "blondes are okay too, my favorite actually" you say while stealing a glance at him, he's looking down at the ground and not really paying attention. so you keep talking "i've had a crush on this one guy but either he's oblivious or he's not interested so i've given up and so ive gone for the opposite type". armin looks at you intrigued, "a crush? like a serious one or like i barley saw his face and i made a weird noise one?" he says holding back a smile, his perfect teeth flashing for only a second. you nudge his shoulder and roll your eyes, "like a serious one". "can i guess who it is?", a nervous zap runs through your body and all your confidence is running out the window. armin seems to notice and is now even more excited and confident in his conclusion. he speaks with pure certainty, "it's reiner isn't it?"

your face drops and all the anxiety you had before has become straight disappointment, the only thought in your mind: omg he's an idiot. how is the smartest man in the scouts really this oblivious, you might as well have said your crushes name started with a ar and ended with a min. well maybe he knew what you were trying to say and he's giving you an out. it's too late now, time to commit or dig that grave you two were talking about earlier. you sigh and look at him in his sky blue eyes, "do you seriously not know? i'm talking about you armin" he sits there eyes wide and a blush on his cheeks, "w-what? me?" "yes who else, seriously? don't say you actually thought i was into reiner" you say sheepishly. armins heart is beating fast, he never thought you would think of him that way in a million years and all of a sudden his dreams have come true. all the years he spent listening to you talk about boys and his attempt to shove down his feelings for you and try to fall for another girl no longer mattered. all the times he got excited when you came to talk to him and no one else, every time you accidentally brushed his hand and it went straight to his soul. it now means something more than before but now his brain has basically stopped working and he might as well be dreaming. you talk again as you watch his brain short circuit "i love you armin and i always have, more than just a friend". he doesn't look at you and looks up at the camp fire with a smile and says, " i love you more than you know y/k, everything about you is so perfect. i always told myself anything you need i would be there first before anyone or.... any other guy could be. i would listen to you talk about the guys you see or liked and i would make a note in my brain of how maybe i could do the same so you'd talk about me and get that same look in your eyes". he chuckles, "one time i even tried to style my hair differently and i unbuttoned a few buttons on my uniform but the captain saw it before you could. that was the day i had to run laps till i collapsed". he smiles and hesitates before looking at you, soaking in your features in the moonlight contrasting with the dim coals of the bonfire. he speaks softly and tucks a strand of hair behind or ear, "you're so beautiful, i thought it was too good to be true". you blush and lean closer to him, the two of you like magnets. you stop inches away from his face, feeling his breath hitch and you look up at him and see his eyes closed. he's nervous, how cute, you wonder if he's ever kissed a girl before but that's better to ask after. you close the distance and his body relaxed and you melt into it with him, his hands reach up and hold your face so lightly. you've always wondered what it would be like, what he would be like and it's even better than you imagined.

[idiasmentalhealth]

GOD DAMNIT

MY HOZIER OBSESSION IS GOING TOO FAR‼️‼️‼️

I AM NOW LINKING MULTIPLE HOZIER SONGS NOT ONLY TO KURAS AND LEANDER BUT TO GRIM

SO I'M GONNA TELL YOU EXACTLY WHAT SONGS ARE REMINDING ME OF HIM BECAUSE THE BRAINROT FROM FINISHING MY FIRST PLAYTHROUGH IS VERY REAL

there's so many...

cut just so the post doesn't look too long

OBVIOUSLY THIS ONE HAS TO BE FIRST SUNSHINE.

"But whose heart would not take flight?

Betray the moon as acolyte

On first and fierce affirming sight

Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight"

"Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground

But I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down

Leave it now, I am sky-bound

If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me

We'll float away, but if we fall

I only pray, don't fall away from me"

THE WAY I HAD TO STOP MID PLAYTHROUGH TO PLAY THIS SONG ON REPEAT AND THEN CONTINUE

"My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah"

AGAIN WITH THE LIGHT

"Could this be how every day begins?

The sky set to burst

The gold and the rust

The colour erupts

You filling my cup

The sun coming up

Like I lived my whole life

Before the first light"

psychopomp... get it cuz he's... the grim reaper...

"The feeling came late

I'm still glad I met you

The memory hurts

But does me no harm

Your hand in my pocket

To keep us both warm

The poor thing in the road

Its eye still glistening

The cold wet of your nose

The Earth from a distance

See how it shines"

"Some part of me must have died

The first time that you called me baby

And some part of me came alive

The first time that you called me baby

These days I think I owe my life

To flowers that were left here by my mother

Ain't that like them, gifting life to you again

This life lived mostly underground

Unknowing either sight nor sound

'Til reaching up for sunlight

Just to be ripped out by the stem"

"When you move

I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be

When you move

I could never define all that you are to me

So move me, baby

Shake like the bough of a willow tree

You do it naturally

Move me, baby"

and last, but certainly not least,

"I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her"

[whumpshaped]

a concept just rammed into my head and i will now share it with my fellow Ambac Rotators on this blog: beck and helle species(?) switch

beck as a (relatively) new vampire

helle as a vampire hunter

no idea where this is gonna go. i just had the sudden image of human!helle pinning down a vampire 🛐

good day anon. i finally have the tentative spoons to engage w the fantasy (that ive been meaning to write for FOREVER and ur ask served as a good reminder of my goals and aspirations thank u)

masterlist

vampire hunter beck

tw vampire whumpee, dehumanisation, pet whump

Beck had been overly cautious every time he went hunting. He had to be, as a stupid little runt without anyone to protect him.

He had crawled out of his grave and into the clutches of a woman he barely recognised, only to immediately be discarded once she realised he couldn't use magic. He had begged her to leave him alive at least, promising to stay out of her way and go 'hunt' on someone else's territory; not his proudest moment, but then again, he had little to be proud of lately.

He hunted as best as he could, picking off lone passerby and muffling their cries as he drank his fill, too frantic and hungry to really care about causing pain. Then he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, terrified of drawing attention to himself. And the cycle would repeat.

Until one day, he slipped up and chose the wrong target.

Beck had never seen a hunter before, especially not so up close and personal — and now that they were straddling his waist and putting a stake to his heart, he decided he didn't fucking like them. He had his hands up on either side of his head without having to be told, completely still in an attempt to appease the hunter who had caught him.

"You're the runt," they stated, not even a hint of doubt in their voice, but Beck nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir," he breathed, very aware of the sharp point digging into his chest whenever he dared inhale.

The title wasn't a conscious choice, really. He'd had to talk his way out of quite a few confrontations before, and if there was one thing he'd learned throughout all of it, it was that manners never hurt.

The hunter looked amused, leaning down a little and inadvertently placing more of their weight on the stake. Beck tensed under them, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of his inevitable demise. "Sir? Have I gotten myself a polite little leech?"

"I can be very polite so long as I'm alive, sir," he said hastily, and they chuckled.

"Alive... as if. Don't flatter yourself. I've seen corpses that looked better than you."

Beck pressed himself even more against the ground. "You're right, sir," he squeaked. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, listen." They clicked their tongue at him, like one would to get a pet's attention, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again. "I've got a deal for you."

"A... a deal?"

Was this common? He had nothing to compare this to. Were all hunters like this?

"Only because you're so well-behaved." They pressed down on the stake a little, as a gentle reminder for Beck to keep behaving, and he was suddenly very eager to nod along. "You see, runts are pretty rare. And regular vampires... they can't really be kept. It's a one and done deal, I come in, I stake them, I get my money."

That was simple enough. Terrifying, but simple. But also– "K-kept?"

"Kept," they repeated, grin widening. "Like a dog."

Beck swallowed. He had a feeling of where this was going, and he did not like the implications. "I... I see."

"And while I'm pretty successful, as far as hunters go... This is a dangerous job. I could use a buffer."

"No," he said timidly. "Please, I can't do anything, I can't– I can barely hunt, I'm starving half the time–"

"I could do with bait, too," they interrupted, shushing Beck when they saw him open his mouth to protest. "And of course, because I deal fairly, I'd let you have some blood in exchange. Can't have a pet without feeding it."

That... That made the offer sound much better, all of a sudden. He hadn't had anything to drink in at least a week, getting by on whatever dead animal he could find in the parks at night. Drinking from roadkill. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of human blood, even though the hunter hadn't yet specified what they'd be feeding him.

"Mmm, what is it? Interested?" they taunted, and Beck couldn't resist nodding a little. He wanted someone to protect him so badly; apparently even if they were a hunter.

"What... what do I need to do, sir?" he asked as respectfully as he possibly could, already wincing when the hunter pulled out a collar from their coat pocket and threw it into his hand.

"First things first, put that on. We'll discuss the rest on the way home."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Cis Swap (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

“Are you seriously trying to make me jealous?” (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Speaking for the first time in a while, Phoebe says, “I think I will take some air.” She hears the clack of heels behind her and turns around. Dani has joined her outside.

A ficlet about regency and remembering.

chaos in bloom (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: The adventures of Dan and Phyl, ghost removal experts.

Contraband (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Dani is ridiculously pale, and Phoebe knows that’s the pot calling the kettle pale. But she’s too worried to laugh about her own dumb joke, because Dani is also shivering and has been feeling poorly almost as long as she’s been in Manchester. She’s wrapped up in a burrito of Phoebe’s brightly coloured duvet and her face frowns out at Phoebe.

A fic about sickness and hand holding.

festive (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: “You’re like...sexy Mrs. Claus,” she says, reaching out to touch, mouth hanging open.

i see you (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: Fiona sees more than Dani thinks she does.

ivy (covered in you) (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: Dani’s job now is to be guided - she is used to living in the darkness with Fiona, but for once they are headed toward the light

in the woods somewhere (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: After Dani bit Fi, Fi started to change too.

Is it serious? (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: In which Fi doesn’t have a ride home, Dani gives her one, they make out in her car, and there is just a little bit of discussion of feelings. Can be read on its own or as a sequel to my Curious songfic.

Laundry & Taxes (ao3) - serendipnpipity

Summary: In the world of yazisnotonfire and AmazingFiona, Yazi Howell still doesn't know how to do her laundry.

leaned a bit too hard (ao3) - jailedmoonshine

Summary: Growing up, Phil resented her name. She already didn't care for dresses and heels, so it was even harder convincing people she was actually a girl. As the years pass and her styles change, she decides to stop for a pint at a pub along her drive, giving her body a chance to breathe from the chill that was coming in.

Hang on... is that a nun?

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her) (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Dani is missing. She comes back, but something is different.

AKA lesbian vampire hozier songfic

our secret moments (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: It’s a little bit exhilarating, the way they’d run, actually run down the hallway and crammed their tall bodies into this tiny alcove. Fiona hadn’t even given either of them a chance to calm down or catch their breath; she had just pushed Dani against the wall with her own body and started kissing her.

pizza, fluffy towels, blankets and horror movies (ao3) - watergator (orphan_account)

Summary: phoebe likes coming home to someone warm

rain is always gonna come (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: "I don't deserve you." She doesn't mean for it to slip out, at least not in that tone of voice. It feels too raw, too real, too close to what she's been lying awake with every night for months now. (Dani and Fi and depression, early years edition.)

Red wine supernova (ao3) - Cecil_Is_Drowning

Summary: Sister Daniel met the most awesome girl she'd ever met at a concert, but small issue, she forgot to tell her Roommate before bringing this (amazing) girl home.

run away with me (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: Dee and Fi break the rules just a little bit.

sex on the beach (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: The bartender is hot, and she definitely knows it. Phoebe feels herself getting more and more resentful the farther into her second drink she gets.

Sunkissed (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phoebe isn’t a swimmer. But that somehow makes her love this all the more— the holiday quiet, the lull between legs of their world tour, the sound of the Australian jungle around them but other than that only the sound of Phoebe kicking and splashing.

A fic about playing and rationales.

taking the veil (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: Twenty-two year old YouTuber Phillippa Lester accompanies her Dad on his trip to fulfill a commission to create a piece of art for a family friend who is living a monastic life in an abbey in the south of England. Angry at her parents and lacking other plans, eighteen-year old Dan Howell tags along with her grandma on an annual, summertime trip of her own: a two week secluded religious retreat at the same abbey.

the ladyknight dan fic (ao3) - baroquens

Summary: It's 1138, and Civil War is stirring in England. In the North, rumors of a Scottish invasion have begun to spread. Dan is a knight whose disguise as a man has recently fallen to pieces. Phil is the odd daughter of a country lord. They fall in love. This is a story about some of those things.

would you tell me if you want me (ao3) - rainbowroshenpower

Summary: AOL messenger

- D: baii ttyl <3 :) Thurs 9:08 PM

Fri 11:01 AM

- P: Why don't you come visit Manchester sometime ;) |

2009 wlw phan meeting for the first time but w lesbian tension. Phil is Pippa and Dan is Lara for the twin peaks truthers.

[sarahs-secrets2]

Leaving with Somebody Else (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+ ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

A little bit of a theme here with t1975 songs and Graves haha, hope yall enjoy! I opened up my requests tab if anyone wants any Phillip X Reader drabbles :) I'm going to start posting more Phillip bits more frequently so feel free to follow to stay updated! <3

(P.S. This is a separate work from my other fic, check out my masterlist for the Sex-t1975 x Phillip Graves fic, part 2 will be out sometime this week!)

Loosely based on Somebody Else by t1975

gn! mentions of boyfriend, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Tad OOC, ANGST, swearing, alcohol, mentions of hookups, pet names, some NSFW

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Arms linked walking into a dive bar, you looked around the room taking in the smell of shitty alcohol, looking at the handsome man standing next to you as you both smiled at each other. Unbeknownst to either of you, a somewhat of a bitter ex sat at the bar watching the encounter. 

Phillip Graves threw back his bourbon motioning at the bartender for another one, it was his 3rd already, maybe the 4th, he didn't bother to count. He watched as you dragged your newest “toy” across the bar to a booth, where you both sat on the same side, something he introduced to you. 

“Phillip no way in hell are we sitting on the same side of this booth c’mon”, you laughed as you tried to push him out of the seat. Graves looked at you with a smirk, “Darling, you're gonna have to try harder to get me away from you”.

The memory was haunting, it made him sick. He had heard around the barracks you were with someone new, he didn't care to hear the rest though. It was easier for him to erase you from his memory than indulge in the what-ifs. 

Phillip and you had called it quits officially a year ago, the following 5 months consisted of late-night hookups trying to convince each other that maybe you could fix it. 

“I can't keep doing this at 4am Phil”, you were sorting through your clothes and getting dressed after crawling back to your ex, despite telling yourself that last time was the last time. 

“I don’t see the issue doll, I think we work perfectly together, c’mon let’s try it again, we’ll be better”. Despite wanting to believe him, you knew the spark was gone, and the hookups just prevented the inevitable of not seeing each other again. Phillip would never admit that the love had gone cold, it had to be you. 

Finally dressed, you walked over to Graves, who was standing by the bed. His hair tousled, with his blue eyes piercing through you. Small tears started to roll down your face as you reached a hand up to cup Phillip’s face, he knew what was coming. 

“Thank you”, is all you said as you placed a small kiss on his cheek and headed out his door for the last time.

After that night Phillip always tried to tell himself that you would come back, just like last time. Now back in the bar, he saw you with somebody else, confirming the swirl of rumors he once tried so desperately to ignore. 

Phillip knew and had come to accept that there was no love there anymore, and he told himself he had gotten over you but seeing you with somebody else made his heart pound. Thinking about you and your new boyfriend doing the things you and he used to do. The weird ownership he felt over you as if you weren't allowed to be sitting with somebody else.

Sitting in the booth with your new beau, you could feel eyes on you. Glancing up, you saw Phillip Graves sitting casually at the bar with his classic bourbon. He was probably meeting some new girl, you thought to yourself. Graves was always the most attractive man in the room, there was no doubt about that, seeing him again confirmed that. 

Your mind wandered, did he move on to? It was a tad hypocritical to feel upset that he may be waiting for somebody else as you were quite literally there with a new guy, the feeling of jealousy still plagued your mind.

“You alright babe?” the voice next to you pulling you back to reality. 

“Yeah, a bit lost in thought”, your hand grazing the bicep of the man, “ Mind getting me a drink?” 

He smiled and nodded as he stood up kissing your forehead, “I’ll get your usual”.

Graves watched the whole encounter, feeling as if he was transparent, did you see him sitting 5 feet away from you? Did you care? His empty glass clinked on the wooden bartop, this time the bartender was ready with the next one. Phillip’s eyebrows raised as a silent thank you to the man behind the bar.

“Is that any good, I can’t decide what to get,” Graves' head whipped around, was this real? The man you walked in with, now talking to him. He must've not known the history, Graves told himself, no way he would be talking to your ex if he knew otherwise. 

“It’s s’alright, gets the job done ya know”, Graves tipped the drink toward the source of his jealousy. 

“That's convinced me enough, thanks dude”, the man's hand patted Graves' shoulder as he ordered a bourbon and some drink Graves had not heard of. It hadn’t been that long and Phillip felt as if you were a stranger to him. 

Too distracted with your phone to notice the interaction being had with your current and past lovers, only looking up once you heard the glassware of the drink hit the table. “Bourbon? You hate bourbon”, confusingly looking at the stout glass your boyfriend held as he took a small sip. “The guy at the bar recommended it, it's not horrible”

“The guy as in the bartender?”

“No the dude on the stool with the blue button up”, you didn't even have to look over to figure out he was talking about Phillip, was this some tactic to get under your skin? Downing the rest of your drink, you looked up at your boyfriend in front of you. 

“Forget the bourbon, let's go home”, at this point you figured Phillip was trying to get your attention, thinking you would run back to him. Tugging at the collar of your boyfriend's shirt you pulled him in for a slow kiss, knowing Graves who was sitting 5 feet away was watching. 

Phillip finished his drink with the bartender now signaling him he had been cut off by handing him the tab that had been racked up over the night. His eyes now glued to the pair in the booth with his stomach churning, the kiss made him want to throw up. That was him at one point, and now you're intertwining your soul with somebody else. 

Graves' eyes followed you, as your boyfriend led you out of the bar as you happily trailed behind. 

You were leaving with somebody else as he sat at the bar with his empty glass and hefty tab. 

Phillip forced the down idea of the two of you together as he threw down some cash and picked up his jacket to leave the shitty bar. Skimming through his contacts and finally landing on your name, Graves deleted the contact, and the memory attached to it. It was time to get over it and find somebody else.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

This made me sad writing this omfg

[fabdante]

Reboot question:

Do you think Dante KNEW that Vergil was gonna die from that final stab in the chest at the end of their fight? Cause like. He kinda just let him go and seemed to think that he'd be fine. Like, Dante still talks to Vergil like he knows Vergil is gonna be a threat after this, so presumably Dante thought Vergil would just walk that stab to the heart off. And probably with good reason! We see Dante poking at his own heart in a bathroom once during a flashback, and presumably this is the first time Dante's ever gotten in this big of a fight before (I mean, Dante basically fought Mundus and Vergil back-to-back), so maybe he just figured Vergil would be fine?

Idk. I feel like if Vergil comes back as the new King of Hell and tells Dante Dante fucking KILLED HIM with that last stab, Dante would just be devastated and shocked, because he honestly thought Vergil would be okay after that. That Vergil would just portal back to the safe house we see them using after the Order fell, and that Vergil would have medical supplies there or something. (Unless Dante and Kat went there afterwards and found the place wrecked or unused.)

I fear this one might get long again asdfghj bare with me

First, a bit on my reading of Downfall (skip the first two paragraphs if that's not interesting asdfghj): I've always preferred the idea that what we see happening in Downfall is less like, literal for the most part and more something Vergil is imagining in his head after passing out on Eva's grave. I realize Word of God canon from Ninja Theory asserts that it like, is supposed to be taken literally but the textual canon of the game itself doesn't really lend itself one way or the other. All we have is Vergil near death passing out and then whatever Eva is (since we don't really know what Eva is) telling him that he did die at some point, though nothing to substantiate that claim beyond her word on the subject. (I tend to treat word of god canon as secondary to textual canon)

But in my reading of the game, I've always just sort of assumed Dante didn't kill Vergil and rather just almost did, something still very scary and unnerving for Dante to grapple with (also I imagine made more complicated by the fact him and Kat after the game likely don't know if Vergil is alive or dead after he left, and that speculation is enough to cause a lot of problems for both of them mentally which is something that comes up a lot in a very 'fab wrote this fan fic for fab' fic I posted, Crossroads of Catharsis and Contemplation asdfghjk)

HOWEVER, like I said, I know Ninja Theory has asserted with Word of God canon that we're supposed to take Downfall literally. So if we take Downfall literally like, Vergil does die after the fight with Dante because we are told by whatever Eva is that he died and this is sort of his own little personal afterlife hell that he needs to crawl out of.

And I am pretty sure Dante had no idea he killed him. The way both Dante and Kat (who has just begged for Vergil's life) implies to me that both thought he'd just heal like the twins do and he'd be fine. The fact Kat in particular does not seem too particularly concerned that Vergil is in dire straights. So I think at the point they're both at with the end of the game, both probably think Vergil will be ok.

I think when things begin to turn is when Vergil just...doesn't communicate with either of them. And that's when they both probably start wondering if he is actually alive or not.

Dante at the end of the game to always read to me as not entirely in control of his devil trigger, thus why it got so bad and Kat had to come over and snap him out of it. Which I definitely think would add to Dantes distress if he were to find out he actually did kill Vergil, even if Vergil got better

[sup-im-jasper]

For More Than it Seems

- Jasper Moon

I was not meant to exist.

My mother was told she couldn't have more kids --

I guess I just wanted to prove I could.

My memory is clouded --

either clouded or exactly as I remember --

full of fights and fear.

Discussions with my brother

of what we would keep at each parent's house

(should they get divorced).

My parents split more times than I remember.

My dad had been kicked out once.

He would pick me and my brother up,

take us to the mall, or to the hotel pool where he stayed

while my mom's boyfriend-of-the-month filled his space at our house.

He found a townhouse,

took his name off the rent, and planned to move.

My parents stayed together.

I come from anger.

Anger and a long line of hurt.

I embodied that anger for longer than I'd like to admit.

And eventually it turned to nothing.

COVID took away the anger --

at least most of it --

and it faded to numbness.

I started to coast through life,

just trying to stay afloat long enough to see another day,

to see things get better.

Life keeps moving --

no matter how much you want it to stop,

want it to pause.

Everybody says things get better,

and I didn't think they did for a long time.

Eventually they do.

But everytime it has, it doesn't seem to last --

the roller coaster will go downhill eventually.

Sometimes it comes in waves;

everything will be fine

until it's not.

Then everything is miserable for a bit,

and then it gets better again.

And the cycle repeats.

I like to call COVID "the void".

The lost time

in all of our lives.

COVID broke me,

but at the same time,

it built me up.

It showed me who I was --

at least the start of who I am.

It showed me how broken I'd really been.

It was the start of rebuilding me.

Well... attempting to.

I feel as though I crawled from my own grave --

a grave dug by my early-teen self.

Who knew life could be so difficult

for a 13 year old.

I had to help myself.

Fear instilled by society and my own parents

to not ask for help.

Convince myself that I'm being dramatic,

it's not as bad as I think,

people won't believe me,

other people have it worse,

anything to convince myself that I'm fine.

Everything's fine.

Dysphoria only added to the dumpster fire

called my brain.

My early teens were filled with

big feelings and not knowing how to handle them.

I'm learning how to manage.

I learn from people online

because there is no world I can imagine

in which I'd feel safe enough to tell my parents.

My queerness was forced out of me --

telling my mom I was gay was the only way I could protect myself

from telling my family I was trans.

I've tested the waters.

They don't feel very warm.

I think too much.

About everything.

But sometimes I forget

that one day

I'll be 27,

living on my own --

maybe with my brother --

away from my parents.

I'll be free.

I'll be safe.

I'll be me.

I want my story to be important enough

that I won't be forgotten when I'm gone.

I want people to know my name.

I want to be remembered,

to be worth more than I ever have before.

I want to leave an impact on this world,

leave it a little better than I found it.

I want to achieve everything I can.

Be the best person I can.

I just want to prove that I can --

that I will.

I hope people will remember me

as an important part of their life --

I hope I helped someone.

I hope someone I one day lose touch with

reaches out when we're adults

just to check in.

It's hard to imagine myself as an adult.

It feels like my whole life is confined to the now.

But I think it's really cool

how we treat every moment like it's the only thing that matters.

I hope one day I'll appreciate this moment

for more than it seems.

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

NOTES:

- written May 30 & Jun. 3-4, 2024

[tseneipgam]

"She meant depressions, for da had had them: big, massive, scudding, whopping, black-cloud, infectious, crow, raven, jackdaw, coffin-upon-coffin, catacomb-upon-catacomb, skeletons-upon-skulls-upon-bones crawling along the ground to the grave type of depressions. Ma herself didn't get depressions, didn't either, tolerate depressions and, as with lots of people here who didn't get them and didn't tolerate them, she wanted to shake those who did until they caught themselves on. Of course at that time they weren't called depressions. They were 'moods'. People got 'moods'. They were 'moody'."

"“So shiny was bad and 'too sad' was bad, and 'too joyous' was bad, which meant you had to go around not being anything; also nit thinking, least not at the top level, which was why everybody kept their private thoughts safe and sound in those recesses underneath.”

"Just as most people here chose not to say what they meant in order to protect themselves, they could also, at certain moments when they knew their mind was being read, learn to present their topmost mental level to those who were reading it whilst in the undergrowth of their consciousness, inform themselves privatelyof what their true thinking was about."

"“The sky is blue,’ came us. ‘What colour else can it be?’ Of course we knew really that the sky could be more than blue, two more, but why should any of us admit to that? I myself have never admitted it. Not even the week before when I experienced my first sunset with maybe-boyfriend did I admit it. Even then, even though there were more colours than the acceptable three in the sky – blue (the day sky), black (the night sky) and white (clouds) – that evening still I kept my mouth shut. And now the others in this class – all older than me, some as old as thirty – also weren’t admitting it. It was the convention not to admit it, not to accept detail for this type of detail would mean choice and choice would mean responsibility and what if we failed in our responsibility? Failed too, in the interrogation of the consequence of seeing more than we could cope with? Worse, what if it was nice, whatever it was, and we liked it, got used to it, were cheered up by it, came to rely upon it, only for it to go away, or be wrenched away, never to come back again? Better not to have had it in the first place was the prevailing feeling, and that was why blue was the colour for our sky to be.”

"Don't worry,' teacher then said. 'Your unease, even your temporary unhingement, dear students, in the face of this to any of my funer sunset is encouraging. It can only mean progress. It can only s of the week we mean enlightenment. Please don't think you have betrayed or the only boy ta ruined yourselves. She did more deep breathing then, hoping to h so far had bes encourage us by example into a more doughty and adventurous spirit. In the littérateurs' classroom, however, there was no sense ught up the ile of adventure, even less with the others than I think with me. At If day dreaming least I'd experienced the shock of the sky, the subversiveness end - being it of a sunset, and only a week previously, whereas from the look m, waking up of them, and regardless of age, it seemed they were struggling if that were with this encounter for the very first time. Of course the urge to panic was upon me also. I could feel it stirring in the air, as well made no ntiments, ple, also oment, ething place blue mV as sense it coming in ripples, then in wave upon wave from the Others. I think though, because l'd experienced this selfsame panic during my earlier sunset, yet had discovered that by keeping still, by not letting it overwhelm me, gradually it had subsided, this time I was accepting of it and so, after a bit of tuning in or tuning-out, and to get respite from what might have been, after all, a non-conforming, unfamiliar, restful consciousness"

"Cats are not adoring like dogs. They don't care. They can never be relied upon to shore up a human ego. They go their way, do their thing, are not subservient and will never apologise. No one has ever come across a cat apologising and if a cat did, it would patently be obvious it was not being sincere. As for dead cats - as in the deliberate killing of cats, killing them as a matter of course - I have come across that many times. The days of my child- hood was when I would come across it, during the time cats were vermin, subversive, witch-like, the left hand, bad luck, feminine - though no one ever came out and levelled the feminine except during drunkenness with the drunkenness - should violence then ensue towards some hapless female - later being blamed for the cause. Men and boys killed the cats, or at least in default of killing them, kicked them or catapulted them with stones on passing. It was one of those things that happened, so you didn't mention the occasions when you happened to come across a dead cat. As for myself, I did not kill cats, did not want to be around either, the killing of them. So conditioned was I, however, by those times, by a learned revulsion, that I feared to come across one that was living even more than seeing one that was dead. I would have dreaded the contact, would have screamed myself silly to have touched one. Lots of cats then, years ago, dead."

"They killed it because it liked them, because they couldn't cope with being liked, couldn't cope with innocence, frankness, openness, with a defencelessness and an affection and purity so pure, so affectionate, that the dog and its qualities had to be done away with. Couldn't bear it. Had to kill it. Probably they themselves would have viewed this as self-defence. And that was the trouble with the shiny people. Take a whole group of individuals who weren't shiny, maybe a whole community, a whole nation, or maybe just a statelet immersed long-term on the physical and energetic planes in the dark mental energies; conditioned too, through years of personal and communal suffering, personal and communal history, to be overladen with heaviness and grief and fear and anger - well, these people could not, not at the drop of a hat, be open to any bright shining button of a person stepping into their environment and shining upon them just like that."

"Given I was now a beyond-the-pale, reputed to read-while-walking as if sitting down; prone, according to the community, to back-to-front read- ing, starting on the last page and working back to the front page in order to pre-empt narrative surprises because I didn't like sur-prises; given I put bookmarks in books, they said, or else turned down pages not correctly where I'd left off, but slyly at misleading places so as to deceive the public for personal round-about, para-noid reasons; given I was reported to have a counting thing where I'd figure cars, lampposts and tick off landmarks whilst at the same time pretend to give directions to invisible people - all while reading-while-walking; given I didn't like pictures of people's faces on books or on record sleeves or hanging in frames on walls because I'd imagine I was being spied upon by them"

"anything - science, art, literature, linguistics, social anthropol- ogy, mathematics, politics, chemistry, the intestinal tract, unusual euphemisms, double-entry bookkeeping, the three divisions of the psyche, the Hebrew alphabet, Russian Nihilism, Asian cattle, twelfth-century Chinese porcelain, the Japanese unit-'

[ruinouss]

He was truly a breath of fresh air in the wastelands. So many people she had met remained suspicious around her and never really cared to crack a few jokes along with some skulls. And those who were willing to joke and cut up with her had little experience in combat and either changed after a few bloody fights or didn't make it out at all. But Roy could hold his own and was always willing to swap quips even in the heat of battle. And even after all he'd already been through he still seemed just as happy to give her shit as he was when they first met. In a way, it comforted her.

She smiled slightly at his comment about knowing what women liked to hear. Part of her wanted to ask if he used pickup lines like "Do you have advanced radiation poisoning? Because you're glowing!" or "Are you a suit of power armor? Because he'd like to get into you." But she remained silent. Terrible pickup lines were more her style. She couldn't recall him openly flirting with anyone they met when they were together and had come to the assumption he wasn't the flirting type.

Of course, there was no telling what happened when they weren't helping each other on a job.

"It's a shame you couldn't put him in the same grave he had you in. That would've been some real diabolical shit but I can only guess that your story really is better," she said, finding her voice strained. Tension crept into her muscles, stiffening her movements and making her feel like a puppet. Moving felt unnatural as if something else was guiding her movements as her mind desperately tried to make it appear as normal as possible. Who would have imagined asking someone for help would affect her so oddly. The rest of his words became a bit muffled as the pounding of her heart crescendoed, making it hard to hear anything but the rushing of blood. It was peculiar to find herself so hesitant to speak, even with a serious favor. Part of her could feel shame bloom in her heart. In her mind, she was a failure. She had failed to see she and her friend were being led into an ambush, failed to protect him, and failed to avenge him on her own.

It was one failure after the next and now she was crawling to Roy's doorstep to ask for his help. He didn't deserve to be brought into her mess and had already given so much to this place. Her eyes darted to the gold-plated hand and another pang of guilt pierced her heart at the thought of asking him to give even more.

"It is," her voice tinged with a soft defeat. Her eyes never met his even as she reached one hand up to pat his hand on her shoulder. She appreciated it more than he'd ever know. Faye didn't know Roy someone who cared for physical contact so even something as small as a reassuring hand on her shoulder helped ease the tension that had snaked its way into shoulders and arms. He gave her the strength she needed to breathe in deeply and exhale.

Faye's eyes closed as she exhaled and opened right after, ignited with a fire. Guilt and shame were suppressed for the time being. She would torment herself with the bottled emotions on her own. Right now, she needed to just explain. Maybe not everything, not yet.

"I have a rough idea of where he's at. As I said, he's got some kind of raider band he's been slowly buildin' up known as the Diamondbacks. Edgy I know," she rolled her eyes as she said it. Then again, most raider bands seemed to have the same energy for their names. "He and his raiders set an ambush up for me and a close friend. I barely escaped but....Varyk, my friend, didn't make it." The words felt like acid on her tongue and despite her best efforts she couldn't disguise difficulty in saying it out loud.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Roy lets out a laugh, he didn’t expect anything less from her, she was a wild card in that way, but that’s the sort of thing that made her stand out from the rest of the wastelanders he’d met. Hadn’t quite met anyone else like Faye (well besides himself in a lot of ways) and if he was being honest he’d always liked her company even if he did give her shit.

To be fair Roy gave anyone he met a hard time though at best and a hassle or some shit stirring. “Besides, you're helping a business owner in Freeside where they really need it. What could be illegal about such a good deed?” Roy gives her a little look of as much innocence as The Courier can muster up, he’s hardly such a thing after all. Then she’s sealing her lips and throwing away the key, good, Roy thinks. Not because he’d grown to be attached to some of the Robots (him noooo never???) and definitely not because he didn’t want to hurt their feelings (or anger the big man behind the…screen.) Roy snorts, robots didn’t have feelings, well except for all the ones he loved.

“Yeah, I know a thing or two about what women like to hear, what can I say.” Laughing and shaking his head Roy definitely didn’t know what would make anyone feel actually special to try and impress them. His idea of being impressed was shit like ‘could you pants a feral ghoul without being noticed …’ or ‘hey punch that deathclaw in it's BIG OL' snout’ both of which he’d been impressed by from Faye when they’d tried to do shit like that, back before the days of The Strip or the world at large got involved . Though he doesn’t really recall how well either of those things panned out, but they were both here alive and mostly intact.

“Oh you’ll love to hear it, s’my best story yet, cause people always say dig two graves or some shit for revenge but I already got pulled out of a grave so I’d say it still was pretty fucking awesome.” Revenge didn’t leave him hollow, he was already so hollowed out before then that he thinks it’s just filled him up, and after? It wasn’t any different than before. He was thankfully too busy to bother with the what comes next. Anyone who ever said revenge killed you too wasn’t someone who needed revenge.

Hearing her whistle made him feel ten shades of fancy and maybe just one shade of red. Then she touched him and while he felt the hug, a warm embrace he allowed himself, he couldn’t feel any kind of sensation on his arm. He doesn’t really miss that feeling but it never got any less jarring to watch. In a way he was living the life now wasn’t he?

Up in some tall tower looking down on things like some kind of High Roller, but it felt a lot like being stuck in a snowglobe sometimes, looking out at the world around you while you sat on a shelf. He’d earned it, after everything he’d been told, he just did what he had to do and yet— he’s brought back to reality. Roy chuckles a snort escaping at the joke.

“I’ll have to make sure to lose the leg then next, have you sign it after.” He jokes, though he doesn’t care to lose another limb, doesn’t think he could handle it and he’s handled a lot but that…

Roy swats her hand away, mostly in the sort of way that says he actually appreciated her words with the way his face is now two shades redder. It wasn’t often he got compliments, if any at all, didn’t rightfully know how to handle them beyond childish bullying back. Roy sticks out his tongue, scrunching up his nose petulantly. “I’m reallll charming, got you up here didn’t I?” He teases back, watching as she looks around the casino floor in the way to the elevator. For a moment The Courier had kept walking, ready to turn around and give the next wry remake about something she'd probably of laughed at before dishing it back at him, he thinks-- instead when he turns around to speak Faye's standing there. Still. "Roy tilts his head, "Cat got your tongue?" Roy had never seen a cat before but he heard they liked to steal tongue's or something... that look though, he'd seen it before; maybe not on Faye but he had so many times all the same.

'I need your help,' The words ring out, she speaks fast, nervous or maybe annoyed and LOUD. Roy's face shifts into something serious, doesn't play around or joke when someone speaks those four words. For Faye of all people to be asking him for help? She was a strong women, was one of the reasons why Roy respected her so much, on most occasions she could deal with things in a better stride than Roy, he thinks, although he'd never admit it. Faye started to speak again, and Roy gave her the stage to do so, recalling briefly her mentioning a few times in what seemed like passing now about her mission, something she too had to do. Roy hadn't been one to pry, everything had been so fast pace and sometimes violent and dangerous around them he'd never processed what she could have meant anyway. Finally Roy decides to talk, his tone deadly serious but he places a hesitant hand on his shoulder, he doesn't know what else to do, knows that maybe...maybe this is what he'd want someone else to do. "If you want him dead... I'll help you find him." He wouldn't help her kill him, no he knew what that kind of revenge meant to someone. No questions asked but he trusted her enough not to. If her gun ever wavered though, if she needed someone to help steady her hands-- he could help her pull that trigger. Somehow he didn't think she needed that kind of help though, he knows he sure as hell didn't. Fuckin' raiders. "we can track whoever this sonofabitch is that's got you here down, if that's what you want my help for."

[pikepile]

Hello friends! I recently was thinking about the inevitable and heavily hinted at death of the player character in Destiny 2, and I think I figured it out! There will be no datamined content or spoilers in this post; I will simply be using content in the game that has already been officially released by bungie. However, I will still be tagging this with the spoilers tag, because people might not want to have this spoiled.

Spoilers for Destiny 2 (season of the Lost) below this text! If you're not comfortable with spoilers, please just scroll past this post.

I believe that we (in reference to the player character) will be taken by Xivu Arath towards the end of the season of the Lost, when Mara Sov performs the ritual to de-worm Savathûn. My reasoning and evidence consists of a couple main points that I will list, along with provided context for those who need it.

Evidence chunk 1: Why I think that we'll be Taken, out of all possible ways to 'die'.

('Die' is in quotes because being Taken is reversible, and doesn't actually kill you.)

During some of the Expunge missions from season of the Splicer, there was dialogue below the radar, seemingly from either Quria (a vex mind made for processing massive amounts of data to better understand the nature of paracausality) or Savathûn (the hive god of trickery and lies, commonly referred to as the 'Witch Queen').

The dialogue:

I see you.

Crawling around my domain like insects.

This realm answers to only one master.

You are nothing.

You know nothing of power.

Thrashing around like a wounded animal.

Unaware that you are already dead.

Your failure is written in time.

I have seen your grave.

I see you.

Rent asunder...

Broken...

Taken.

There was some extra stuff that I didn't include because it wasn't relevant, but this is the main part. We can assume that whoever is saying this probably has access to vex networks that are in some way connected to the infinite forest (an incredibly powerful vex simulation engine designed to help the vex decide which timelines to pursue for their own goals), because during the season of Dawn, we are actually shown our grave during an exotic quest (which leads me into my next chunk of reasoning!).

Chunk 2: Saint-14

During the season of Dawn when we're shown our grave, we hear Saint-14 giving our eulogy during our funeral in the background. Ghost is dead and is embedded in the grave, and is completely intact, leading me to believe that he was killed by something that suppressed/drained his light- which is part of why I think we might have been taken- but back to the topic of Saint. Why is Saint-14, of all the possible people, giving our eulogy? Why not any of the other characters that people might even be more familiar with?

Because we're going to be fighting the Xivu Arath's Taken alongside him, when we're defending Mara Sov and her techeuns while she de-worms Savathûn. In one part of the eulogy, Saint says something along the lines of "And if you're still out there; come back to us, and we'll kill what killed you. Or die trying." (I'm trying to quote this from memory, so it's probably not exact)

Anyways, that's my take on the guardian's death. I encourage people to correct me on anything lore-wise that I got wrong, and any typos my sleep deprived self has made. Also, feel free to ask me for clarification on different things I touched on if need be. Any and all criticism is welcome, as long as you aren't attacking me.

[donutloverxo]

Princess

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

Based on a request. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your pussy is sore so Curtis uses your mouth.

Warnings - explicit sexual content (m/f) , age gap (reader is in her early twenties, Curtis is 34), innocent/naive reader, dub con, oral (m receiving), soft dark!Curtis, au, porn without plot.

Pairing - Curtis Everett x reader

Word count - 2k

You were jerked away when you heard the knob to your room on the snowpiercer rattling, and then being closed as his footsteps followed.

You didn't remember a lot before the train, you were just a kid when the old world came to an end. 

You saw glimpses of grass and sunlight in your dreams, you weren't sure if they were dreams or just fragments of your imagination. 

But even in your wildest dreams, you didn't imagine a bed this soft and a room this big. Big enough to fit the bed and two dressers and a large mirror. It was decadent and all you could wish for and more. 

So it should make you happy to be here. In a comfortable bed like a princess. Shouldn't it? 

It didn't. You wanted to enjoy this time while it lasted, but your gut told you that you were temporary. Just here to warm the leaders bed. 

"Curtis…" your face heating up as he studied you, his powder blue eyes twinkling in the dim light, getting rid of his coat and cap. Goosbumps erupted all over your body as you held your soft comforter upto your chest,to give you some sense of modesty and dignity even if Curtis had taken it all from you and made you a woman just weeks ago. 

You used fantasy to escape your grim reality quite often. It's easier to dream of a Prince Charming riding on a white horse to save you then to accept reality for what it is that you would've been stuck working in the greenhouse for the rest of your life… all alone. 

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he hissed, tearing the comforter away from you, holding onto your wrists to reveal your beautiful breasts to him. "You're mine now. You can't hide from me."

"I'm sorry…" you hung your head in shame, and so you wouldn't be caught peeking a glance at Curtis pulling his shirt over his head, followed by him unbuckling his belt. 

He was… beautiful. You never knew anyone could be so handsome. His shoulders wide, a light scattering of hair all over his torso, multiple scars on his body. But they only, strangely, made him more appealing to you. 

He climbed on top of the mattress, nudging your knees apart and situating himself between them. He growled as he looked at your bare sex, using two of his fingers to part your lips as you hissed in pain. 

"It's… I'm… sore," you explained when he looked up at you. 

He nodded back to you, pushing barely an inch of his forefinger inside you, he didn't want to hurt you. Your pussy was clearly swollen and overworked. If he gave into his urges he would be sure to cause you pain, and even worse, lose what little trust you have in him. 

He had suffered enough to last him seven lifetimes. He already knew he was going to hell for all that he had done. It wasn't like he could doom himself anymore by forcing you to be with him. And he deserved you. After all that he had gone through. You were his light at the end of one long and shitty tunnel. 

He pulled his hand away when he looked at your face, pinched in pain. Instead settling on fondling your breast as he thought about how to take care of his erection. 

He had taken your body four times the previous night, which was why you slept the day away. How he managed to go out and get stuff done, and be the leader was beyond you. 

"You like what you see, princess?" He taunted you when he caught you staring at his hard cock. 

The little pet name was initially what he used to mock you and how shy and delicate and innocent you were, but now he had come to cherish you. He wanted to protect you as if you were his sweet little scared princess and he was your brave knight. 

You immediately averted your eyes and started sputtering nonsense, your brain froze and you literally didn't know how to answer him. And Curtis had made it very clear that when he asked you a question you were to give him a proper, clear and honest answer. Or face grave consequences. 

"Um, yes?" Which was the truth. You had seen a few male genitals in your life, they were all… not very appealing. But it was different with Curtis. His was beautiful and intimidating at the same time. 

"Then how about," putting his leg over yours, he crawled to the top of the bed, kneeling before you with his hard, pulsating length was right in front of your face. "You make me happy."

"Oh…" you simply stared. Your friend had told you that you were 'one lucky bitch' to have a man like Curtis who spends hours pleasuring you with his mouth, his fingers, and his manhood, but never forced you to return the favor. You didn't even know how you would go about doing that. 

You had explored your own body before. Partly because of your curiosity and partly for some relief. But Curtis touched you in a way no one else could, he made you climax harder than you ever had before, you were pretty sure you passed out once from the sheer intensity of it. 

But… how does one go about doing the same with a man's special place? 

"Hm," you looked at his slit, it looked somewhat similar to your bud, you held onto his length, putting your thumb over his tip where the pearly liquid oozed out of--with which he often loved painting your whole body with, or pump you full of it and just watch it seep out of you. 

You realised how bold you were, that you should seek his permission before touching him there, you looked up to see him pleased with your actions so you decided to keep going.

You lightly pressed your thumb on his slit, making him hiss, you whipped your head up and pulled your hand away. 

"Sorry…" you sniffed, your vision becoming blurry as your eyes teared up, "I've never.. I don't know what to do. I'm sorry…" you sobbed. 

"Stop," he said softly, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

You really were such a scared little lamb. Years of pent up frustration, where he had to make do with just his hand, didn't help making you feel safe with him either. But what the hell was he supposed to do when he had such a beautiful woman next to him as he slept? 

"Just listen to me. Can you do that?" he asked, cupping your jaw as you meekly nodded. "Open your mouth as wide as you can," he told you, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb. 

Oh. It made sense. He puts his mouth on you so you should be able to do so on him as well. You opened your mouth with an 'ah', panicking just a bit when he put his hand around your throat, but he hushed you and asked you to relax. Since your body, mind and soul really did belong to him now, you immediately calmed down, knowing that he won't hurt you. Not too much anyway. 

He pushed his length in your mouth. The taste wasn't at all what you expected. Not that you were sure what it would be like anyway. It tasted creamy and salty at the same time. You coughed and sputtered around him, your spit trailing down your chin. You thought that the mess would make him angry but then you recalled how much he enjoys the mess he makes of you. 

He stopped when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat on his palm, "Good girl," he cooed, stroking your need. "Look up here," he ordered as you looked at him through your big doe eyes, "Keep looking at me okay?"

You didn't know if you were expected to give a verbal answer, because you couldn't… Not with a mouthful of Curtis. So you nodded the best you could. 

"Hands on your thighs," he said as you put your hands on your bare thighs with the palms up. "Right now just sit there… just like that," he rasped as he pulled his hips back before bucking them forward, "And look pretty. Fuck… that mouth of yours… and it's all mine to do whatever I want with…"

He was making love to your mouth, just as he did between your legs. 

You did as you were told, sitting and taking his assault on your mouth and throat. His ejaculate, your tears and your saliva drooling all over your lap. He was making love to your mouth, just as he did between your legs. 

You could feel slick running down the side of your leg, not wanting to ruin the pristine white sheets and to create some much needed friction you closed your legs together. 

He stopped his hips, the tip of his cock still in your mouth as he saw you squirming. "Touch yourself." He said. 

Your eyes widened as you realised what he meant. You couldn't risk pulling him out of your mouth to protest. You were too embarrassed to do that in front of him as well. 

"That's an order," he growled as he fucked in to your warm mouth, making you choke around him, pushing him closer to his release. 

A shaky hand made its way to your core, past your pubic hair and between your thighs. You tried to emulate how Curtis touched you. 

First he touched your thighs and kissed them all over. Then your ass and then he'd tease around your lips, torturing you for what would feel like forever before touching you where you most needed him. 

You gathered your intimate juices, spreading them around your vulva before rolling your pearl between your fingers, moaning around his length. 

"That's it, princess… come on, come with me," he groaned, slowly fucking into your mouth, holding off his release so he could watch you fall apart as he came in your mouth, one hand tangled up in your hair and another pinching and twisting your nipples. 

Soon you were whimpering, you tried to tell him that you were close. Thankfully he seemed to understand as he picked up the pace. Fucking into your mouth till you could feel streaks of his release on the back of your throat. 

You held onto his thigh so you could sit upright as your orgasm washed over you. Your nails digging into his skin as you screamed around his length. 

"Swallow it all," he commanded as you gulped down all that you could. 

You took in some much needed oxygen as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth, your chest heaving as he laid down beside you and pulled you into his body.

He thought you'd want to sleep after. Since you were so swollen and tired. He'd have to take it easy on you from now on. Maybe use your mouth every now and then to give your pussy a rest. 

But then… 

Were you grinding against his cock? 

He propped your chin up so he could look at your face, the most innocent look on it. 

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Um… are you done?" you asked, tracing a scar on his chest. 

"You want something, princess?" he asked, pinching your buttock as you yelped. 

"I was thinking… we could make love? It doesn't feel right not to. You know?"

"Right, of course, princess. Since you asked so nicely." He smirked as he climbed on top of you. 

Taglist -

Permanent: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @thehumanistsdiary @navybrat817 @la-cey @captainsdolly @bluemusickid @zaddychris @the-wayward-robot @aikeia @kidney9-9 @notyourtypicalrose @selfcarecap @miraclesoflove @saiyanprincessswanie @gotnofucks @efferuse @americasass91 @coffeebooksandfandom @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @sweeterthanthis @cloudystevie @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @tenaciousperfectionunknown @labella420 @golden-ariess @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @starbooty

Chris Evans characters: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @angrythingstarlight @goldenfightergir @dangerouslovefanfic @melchills-j @xserenax-13

[alchemistbee]

Back in your Arms

「Five Hargreeves x reader」

Ask: Could you write a Five reader fic where y/n gets kidnapped by the Swedes and Five saves them. Thx

Words: 2556

Warnings: mentions of blood and torture. Kidnapping. Season two spoilers.

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve ever got requested. I hope I did it justice. I hope you enjoy! I know I took long to publish it, I apologize, school is kicking my ass. Sorry for grammatical errors. Enjoy!

[gif from @thisgameissonintendo ]

After having attended the horrific light brunch with the Hargreeves family, they were all feeling far more worse than when they had arrived. Five had explained to Sir Hargreaves each of their powers, Vanya had exploded a bowl of fruits, Allison rumored Diego, Diego got a very non-friendly slap of reality, Klaus seemed to have a seizure mid-dinner and Lurther confronted their father by ripping his shirt off in front of everyone.

In your opinion, it could have gone a lot better, but it could have also gone a lot worse.

Unlike the other siblings, Five had stayed behind and you had figured that it would be better to wait for him in the lobby. He was having a conversation with his father, whom he hadn't seen for over fifty years, he bet his ass you were going to wait for him. Especially after the horrible way he had spoken to the rest, you would be there for Five if he needed to. What you didn't know by then was that Five was trying to see if his father could tell him how to go back to 2019, one that didn't evolve making a deal with The Handler. Which, may I add, he hadn’t told anyone about, not even to you.

You waited patiently for Five, your back leaned against the wall while your arms intertwined in front of your chest. You counted the minutes that passed, not that you were in a hurry, but to hopefully make it seem like the time was passing faster. After almost twenty-seven minutes, the elevator emitted that one ‘bing’ it did whenever the doors were about to slide open. As you expected, it was Five, who now had his hands shoved inside his pockets and seemed quite puzzled. You asked him if he was okay, but Five only dismissed your question to tell you to go ahead of him to Elliott’s place. Apparently, there was something he needed to take care of, something he wasn't willing to explain to you just yet.

He knew that if he did tell you, you would either try to stop him or not let him do it on his own. Five didn’t want to drag you into Commission business. He found that not telling you of the plan all together was the easiest way to keep you from being in Commission's eyes, more than currently at least.

You nodded suspiciously towards Five, but did not push the subject any further. Maybe he just needed some time to let everything sink in, and it's not like you nor him considered the walk back to Morty’s dangerous. You could take care of yourself pretty well. You parted ways with Five, and walked back to Morty’s where you saw Elliott himself was just arriving too. He smiled kindly upon seeing you, to which you returned with a smile of your own. You had to be honest, you had grown to like Elliott more than expected. He was like that one cousin in the family, and you enjoyed hearing his rambles about any conspiracy he could think of. He truly was a sweetheart.

You followed Elliott up the stairs to his place, he carried a paper bag in hand, calmly telling you the things he brought back from the supermarket. You listened thoughtfully. Once inside. Elliott flickered the lights on and to both of your surprise, a cat sat in the middle in the kitchen. Elliott looked confused, but figured the cat must have somehow climbed in “Hey buddy, how did you get up here?”

He approached the kitchen casually, where he sat the bag down and looked at the cat as it meowed to him. You couldn’t help to feel your skin crawl. The nagging feeling of people watching you being present “Elliot?-” You turned your head to look behind you, swearing you had seen something lurking in the shadows. You averted your gaze back to him, now watching as he pulled out a tiny can of food for the cat and asked if it was hungry. You walked to the kitchen window, the one that let you view outside in case anyone was suspiciously close to the building. You saw nothing, but that was because you didn't know that they were already inside.

Your head snapped back to Elliot the moment a loud sound came from the living room, there you saw that one of the tall assassins had punched Elliott right on the side of his face. You felt your heart accelerate, and moved quickly to help him until you felt someone pull you up, stopping your tracks to help the man. The other assassin got a hold of you, if it hadn't been for your small body, you could have stopped the leader from hurting Elliott any further.

You saw the man try to scramble from his gun, but the other man was quicker to lift him up by the throat, asking the whereabouts of Diego. Upon receiving no answer, the man punched Elliott twice, this time letting his body fall harshly on the floor while blood dripped down his nose.

“Elliott!” You struggled under the second man’s hold. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight. The siblings were not even back and there was no way for you to contact them when the phone was this far “We don't know where Diego is! Leave him alone! He has nothing to do with this!” you pleaded loudly. The leader only shifted his gaze at you, studying the way your eyes flushed with fear. He was trying to figure out whether you were the one the woman had referred to not killing, you were merely a teen after all. Yet, not killing you didn't mean they could not use you for information.

After that little stare down happened, making you hope that maybe the men would not use Elliot as their little puppet..You were gravely mistaking. The man dragged Elliott through the living room, knocking over a lamp and breaking it before pinning him into the dentist chair violently. He kept asking for Diego, and Elliott is only able to answer with a “I d-dont know” while you keep battling for the second man to let go of you. At this point, you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you noticed him take the forceps, priding Elliott's mouth open and sticking them into his mouth.

“NO!” you cried out “ELLIOTT!”

Elliott’s screams filled the building alongside your pleas and cries, but as much as you told the men that none of you knew where Diego was, that didn't seem to make them stop. Not until Elliott’s body was drained from life entirely, the blood from his body splattered all across the floor and body. You couldn’t help the soft cries leaving your lips, calling his name out ever so softly in hopes of him still being alive but that’s when you felt a sharp pain come from the back of your head. The world turned black and your body fell not too far from Elliott’s chair after the second man got tired of holding you.

The brothers could use you. They could use you to lure Diego, the man they believed responsible for the murder of their younger brother.

The next day, after Diego and Lurther find Elliott’s body, they try to figure out who did this to Elliott. Diego believes it's the feds, but Lurther claims that was no work of feds but of a psychopath. Believing the words written below are a name, they search through the phone book until discovering the phone number linked to whom they believe is responsible for Elliott’s death; They phone the number up.

Five jumped into the building, quickly noticing the blood painted words on the floor, making him hurry up the stairs to meet Elliot’s body. He can feel a lump forming in his throat as he approaches it. There were clear signs of torture, there was something stuck into his left eye. Five couldn’t help to feel guilty. He liked Elliot, he was a good man, he had helped them and welcomed his siblings in without the slightest complaint. He had become one of them, and for that, his life paid the price.

Five followed the voices of Lurther and Diego through the kitchen, taking off his blue and blood dripped jacked as he heard the brothers threaten someone over the phone for killing one of them “Hey! It's Öga för Öga, idiots. Swedish for ‘an for en eye’. It means The swedes killed Elliott '' He didn't want to think how the missions went after his run; It was clear Diego and Lurther shared one brain cell.

“Wrong number, have a lovely day” Diego hanged the call, looking at Five and easily spotting the blood on his clothes “Uh, you got some blood on your clothes”

“A lot actually”, Diego added as Five pushed by them, entered the bathroom and turned the sink handle to let the water flow down. He grabbed a white towel, carefully washing the blood off of him as best as he could “I found a way home”

“What? How?”

“All the details are irrelevant but i made a deal to get back to our timeline”

“What about doomsday? And the 2019 apocalypse”

“won't happen. Everything will be back to normal” Five remarked exasperated “All right? No more questions. We gotta go. We have to find the other and get back in 77 minutes. Luther, you get Allison, Diego go get Klaus, I'll get Vanya, Y/N-“ he stopped his pacing all suddenly, eyes roaming the room and back to his younger siblings “Wait—Where’s Y/N?”

Five’s eyes widened as realization suddenly hit him and his siblings. He saw you last night, you were supposed to be here, why weren’t you here?

“They stayed after the brunch, we thought they were with you…” Diego, Five and Lurther shared a look, all of them now realizing that you had been taken by the men who killed Elliott.

“Dammit!” Five exclaimed angrily. He had just gotten a way back home, and you...You had been taken. How was he supposed to find you in such little time? He didn’t even know where to start.

“Calm down. Okay—We’ll find them—“ Diego started while Five started to pace around, muttering words under his breath “This was so simple. So simple!” He turned his head to look at them “I am going to go find Y/N, and get Vanya. We meet here as planned, this is our only chance to go back” Five raised his finger at them both before started to walk to the stairs, but stopped abruptly when he Diego spoke up once more

“You expect us to not help you—“ before Diego could finish his sentence, Five jumped from the small distance to right in front of his brother, raising his fingers with a threatening look “If you don’t do this, I swear I’ll kill you myself” he said more sternly “there's not enough time for all of us to go in a search, I’ll tell Vanya to meet up here. If i don't make it in time just go back home, I’ll manage a way back”

“How are you planning on finding them?” Was what Diego last said before Five teleported out of the building.

You woke up with a sharp breath. Your head was pounding and when you opened your eyes, you were welcomed with nothing but a blindfold on your eyes. You tried moving your arms. But soon found out they were tied down to your back while your ankles were tied against the legs of a chair “Shit” you muttered hoarsely, your throat was still dry from the crying. What the hell happened? Where were you?—

That’s when it hit you

“HELP! SOMEONE!” You tried to scream as loudly as you could, but considering the silence in wherever you were, you knew no one was coming to your aid. Strangely, the smell was like cat fur, and that was confirmed when you heard the several meows and the cat passing it’s tail over your leg.

How in the world were you going to get out of here now?

Five jumped all over town trying to find any clues, even the smallest, of your whereabouts. Even though he didn’t show it, he was extremely anxious and worried for your self being. He feared what the Swedes could be doing to you, or worst, what they had already done. The images of Elliott kept flashing back to him, and something in his stomach made him believe that if he didn’t hurry up, he would find you the same way.

He didn’t know whether it was luck or simple fate, but as he walked through the town he spotted the familiar milk truck that had followed them around for some instances. It was parked in front of an apartment, a quite small one, and Five knew that you should have been there. He kept looking down at his watch, counting the minutes they had left before having to go back to 2019.

They still had twenty minutes. He still had time, it was enough to save you and go back. At least he hoped so.

He watched The Swedes get in the truck, and without thinking it twice, teleported himself inside the cat filled apartment. His blue eyes roamed the place all over, scanning it for any trace of you until he heard a few knocks coming from a nearby closet. He didn’t waste time on pulling the door open.

Five’s eyes fell on you, and instinctively, you started to try and kick thinking that The Swedes were back again “Y/N!-Its me!-Y/N” he crouched down to your level, scanning your body for any signs of torture or harm. He sighed sharply, relieved to see that The Swedes hasn’t gotten their way with you. Gently, he reached out to pull your blindfold off. It broke him to see you like this.

Your eyes weren’t shining like they used to. They were completely flushed by pain, regret and fear “F-Five” you muttered softly, finding it hard to believe he had actually found you. You felt the ropes become loose on your legs and wrists, and the moment you had the chance, your body fell against Five’s. He held you firmly, worried that maybe you weren’t as okay as he thought you were. He was only relieved to have you back on his arms again, the place where he could make sure of your safety.

“F-Five—Elliott—I couldn’t s-save him” You started, tears stinging your eyes as you remembered what The Swedes did to the man “I c-couldn’t—“your shoulders shook alongside your small sobs.

“I know...It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have left you” Five said softly, his arms slowly wrapping around you, hoping that would comfort you in the slightest “We have to go...I found a way back, but we need to go now or we’ll be stuck here forever” He pulled you up the ground, his thump caressing your tear stained cheeks while his free hand took a gentle hold of yours.

“You w-what? How?” You blinked twice, sniffing softly “Five, what did you do?”

“I’ll explain on the way...Let’s go home”

[urlocalmapache]

Bloody Tears

Twisted Wonderland x Castlevania AU 

Trigger warning: basically death

Important! English is not my mother language! I’m sorry if you find some grammatical or spelling errors!

————————

Whenever they saw Deuce, they tried to remain calm and strong, but it was getting harder and harder. Their heart wouldn't take it much longer, they knew that very well.

—Thank you for everything you do for me, Yuu…—Deuce told them weakly, bedridden and wrapped in blankets. He was so sick he couldn't even stand up, he was just a shadow of the Deuce that Yuu loved and missed so much, his skin pale as paper and his eyes glassy—. I'm sorry to be a burden to you.

—You aren’t a burden, you're my best friend —They told him with a slight smile, holding back the tears they so desperately wanted to let out. It broke their soul to pieces to see him like this. Yuu remembered Deuce so strong and full of life, and they would give anything to go back to those times —You'll get better, you'll see, and when you do, you'll cook for me for a whole month —They teased and gave him a bitter laugh, but it was so false, that it didn't take long for it to melt into thin air.

—I will, I will —he replied as he coughed.

—Now eat a little, you need it —They said, passing Deuce a bowl of "soup", just the same poor and insipid food as always: potatoes boiled in water with a little salt. As for them, for the last few weeks, his meals consisted of leftover potato skins.

Ever since Deuce got sick, their expenses had skyrocketed. Apart from working in the orchard, Yuu had gotten a job helping the village baker, but no matter how many jobs they took on, the money was never enough.

—You come home from working all day, just to take care of me… —Deuce murmured with sadness in his eyes— I'm really sorry, Yuu.

—It’s fine, it's not your fault you got sick —They answered, biting their lower lip to keep it from trembling, and fighting the familiar sensation of a painful lump forming in his throat. —. Besides, I do all of this because I want to.

They placed the palm of their hand on Deuce’s forehead, gently ruffling his hair.

The fever had risen even higher.

They were going to crack, but they weren’t going to do it in front of Deuce.

—I'll go get something, I'll be right back —They blurted out as an excuse before hurrying out of the room.

After leaving, they closed the door carefully, walked out of the house, took a deep breath, and interrupting the silence of the night, they broke down in tears. They fell to the ground crying desperately, feeling the serene cold of the night make his skin crawl and the damp earth dirty his hands.

They couldn't keep losing their friends. They would never forgive themself for not being able to help Ace when he fell gravely ill, the guilt would haunt them forever and keep them from sleeping at night. Despite all their efforts, despite all their attempts, they couldn't stop Ace from dying a few months ago.

And now, the exact same story was repeating itself with Deuce.

Again, the same helplessness, the same desperation, the same self-hatred for being unable to do anything.

They were a mere human, they weren’t even a hunter. They were short and weak, they didn't have any kind of influence or power, and they didn't have the slightest trace of magic either.

Were they perhaps condemned to see them die without being able to do anything? They cursed themself for being so, so utterly useless.

And while everyone in their small town was sickening and dying like animals, the church just turned a blind eye, and talked about their God. It made them so angry to see the reverends and monsignors hidden and completely oblivious to the situation, sheltered behind the luxurious walls and precious stained-glass windows of their cathedrals, dressed in their stunning suits and wearing expensive jewelry.

Every time they heard them talk about God, every time their eyes met with theirs briefly during sermons, they felt like throwing up. Every time they heard them speak of compassion and love, their intestines twisted in disgust.

They clenched their fists in anger, nails digging into the flesh and drawing blood.

And there, with the moon as witness, they decided.

They wouldn't let anyone else die, not while their heart was still beating in their chest.

They were fed up with misery.

—Yuu, what you’re saying it's suicide and sheer madness —Riddle told him without any tact—. You have lost your mind, you aren’t thinking clearly.

—I've made my decision, nothing you say can make me change my mind —They answered firmly.

They were ready to go.

They were wearing the best coat they had, their rustic rain boots, a tattered scarf, and a bag with a bottle of water, a lighter, and a map in it, as well as the compass they had stolen from Azul Ashengrotto, knowing that the Leech twins would come for them.

—Yuu, please reconsider —Trey asked with concern—. I know the situation is desperate, but we can't lose you too.

—Trey's right —Riddle insisted. He took Yuu's hands in his and looked them straight in the eye—. Yuu, no one who has ever gone into that forest has come back to tell the tale, besides, no one knows exactly where-

—If no one has returned, then I will be the first to do so.

—No! —Riddle slammed his fists on the table, making the empty plates and cups jump and rattle slightly, his patience wearing thin—. You will just die like an idiot! Stop being so childish! —He exclaimed with a red face— Do you think it doesn't hurt me to see Deuce like this?! Do you think that the impotence isn’t killing me?! —He took a deep breath in a miserable attempt to calm himself—. Yuu, I totally understand how you feel! But I'm not about to let you kill yourself for trying to be the hero!

Yuu took a deep breath, looking away. They knew it wouldn't be easy to break the news to them, and in fact, they would have preferred to lie to them.

—Yuu…—Trey spoke in a calmer, softer voice, just like an older brother. He placed his hands on their shoulders comfortingly— What does Deuce think of all this?

They hesitated before answering.

—He does not know… —They finally blurted out—. I lied to him, told him that I had gotten a job out of town, and that I would be away for a few days... If I told him the truth, he would never let me go.

—Yuu, if Deuce finds out about the decision you've made behind his back, he's going to die, he's not going to be able to take it.

—I'm not here to have this conversation, Trey —They said curtly—. I'm not here to ask what you think about this, I'm not here to ask for your advice, I'm just here to make you both promise, that if anything happens to me, you’ll take care of Deuce in my place.

—And how are we supposed to explain to him that you decided to do something so stupid?! Have you thought about it?! —Riddle asked standing up— You are going to kill him!

But Yuu turned a deaf ear and walked towards the door.

—Yuu! Yuu! Don’t ignore me! —Riddle yelled at them desperately, but he couldn't even make Yuu turn to look in his direction—. Yuu! Listen to me! Please don’t go! —They heard Riddle, and felt him cling tightly to their hand, holding them back for a few seconds—. Please… —he begged— Don't leave me too... Please...

—I’m sorry… I really do, Riddle.

They unlinked their fingers. They didn't look back, for they knew that if they did, they would completely fall apart.

—Goodbye, Riddle. Goodbye, Trey. See you soon.

And without further ado, with only the moon as company and a heart blinded in determination, they set out on his journey, losing themself in the blackness of the night.

[thewolfswriting]

The Dangers Of A Demon Chapter 3

Pairings: Demon Alpha!Dean x Katarina Morgan (Omega OC)

Word count: 2,009

Chapter Warnings: Profanity, Scent Marking, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Dub-con, Non-consensual claiming 18+ content just don’t read if you’re under the age of 18

Taglist: @charmed-asylum

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

With a snarl, Dean kicked the cabin door open so hard it bounced off the wall. Even though he told the Omega to shut up, she still screamed at him the whole way back. He kicked the door shut behind him before throwing her to the floor with a thud. With tears flowing down her face she crawled backward until her back pressed against the nightstand. The fear grew more within her when he picked up the knife from the floor.

"Did you really think you could fucking escape?! He yelled while taking a fistful of her hair and pointing the knife at her face "Where the hell do you think you were going?!"

"I was trying to get away from you!" She all but yelled eyeballing the sharp object that's uncomfortably close to her face.

"You're not going anywhere until I decide when I'm gonna kill you. Understand?!"

She sobbed "Y-yes."

"Good. Now, get back up on that fucking bed and stay there." He pointed towards the bed with the knife still in hand.

Not wanting to piss him off even more she didn't hesitate to do what she was told. His eyes had even stayed black the whole time.

Keeping his eyes on her Dean growled at the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. She let out a sigh of relief once his attention wasn't directed towards her, but to the person he was currently on the phone with.

"What do you want Crowley?" Dean barked into the phone.

"Is it done?"

"I'm working on it."

"It's been 3 days Dean. You never drag out a kill. Get it done or I'll send someone who will."

"The job will get done but on my terms. Send anyone else and they'll be dead too!" Dean yelled the last sentence before hanging up not giving Crowley the chance to answer. If Crowley knew what was good for him, he would take what Dean said seriously.

"Who was that?" Katarina asked in a hushed tone like she was afraid he'd yell at her for asking.

At this point, the demon didn't care she heard the whole conversation "Don't worry about it."

---

"We still haven't found her sheriff." One of the deputies said with a tone of sympathy.

He had to be careful to not give it away that he's looking for Katarina and because of that, only two of his deputies know she's missing. The only evidence they found was her footprints in the snow that led to her mother's grave. But Dean was careful to make sure nothing else of hers was left behind the night he took her.

"Keep looking. I want my daughter found safe and alive." Sheriff Morgan sighed. So nobody grew suspicious he had to hide the fact he knows who has his Omega of a daughter. Even worse, he's hiding that those three Omega's that were missing are now dead. All for the sake of an attempt to keep his daughter safe

"I'll find you. I promise." He muttered while gazing at the picture of his daughter on his desk.

---

Dean returned to the cabin carrying a few logs of wood before he sat down on the stool to start a fire in the fireplace. Not one word did Dean had said to her since the situation that took place earlier that evening. Every time she heard the swing of Dean's ax hit the wood, she flinched thinking if he would kill her that way.

Katarina's shivering soon calmed down once the heat of the fire finally warmed the cabin. She buried her face against the blanket as she hugged it closer to her body and made a sound she's never made before. Realizing she just purred she sniffed the blanket. That's when it hit her. The blanket, the entire bed smells like Dean. She hoped with everything in her the Alpha across the room didn't hear the noise she once again just made. To her, that would be embarrassing given she's never had an Alpha touch her let alone have a heat yet. She only hoped having an Alpha this close to her wouldn't trigger her heat.

Relaxing enough she closed her eyes, finally falling asleep only minutes after.

---

It was hours later when she awoke covered in a sheet of her own sweat. She looked at the fireplace which was still burning. She removed her jacket from her shoulders and three the blanket off, thinking maybe she got too hot from the heat of the fire and all the other layers on her. But then she smelled it, her own scent thick in the air of the cabin. Then she felt it, a cramp in her lower belly striking through her. Oh, no. So much for hoping.

"You're in heat."

She jumped as Dean pulled her closer to him. Gripping her jaw he holds her head in place as he, with golden eyes ran his nose along the side of her neck and let his hands roam either side of her body "Y-you knew this would h-happen." She went stiff as he pressed his hips forward against her ass and could feel the hardness of his cock straining against the demon fabric of his jeans.

He chuckled at her words while bringing his hand to the front of her jeans and popped the button and sliding two fingers in the waistband. The arousal pooled in her panties as soon as his fingers came in contact against hot, slick flesh. She bit her lip to keep any type of noise in from the fingers on her virgin cunt.

"Oh, you're damn right I did." His eyes flashed golden "And from the way you smell right now, I'm guessing you've never had an Alpha touch you or even have a knot in you. Now, that's gonna change."

The only response he got was a whimper of pain as another cramp shot through her. She knew this day would come, she knew what to expect, but she didn't expect was her heat to come like this. Triggered by a demon who happens to be an Alpha.

"Gonna make you feel good, Omega."

Dean flipped her on her back and ripped her shirt over her head before claiming her mouth with his. He took the liberty of palming her breasts through her plain white bra before taking it in his hands and ripping it from her chest. The demon was quick to capture her wrists in his hands to prevent her from covering herself.

While squeezing her breasts in his hands his eyes divert to her chest "Fuck, these tits are perfect, 'mega." His thumbs grazed across her aching nipples "Fit just right in my hands."

The Omega closed her eyes as he then smoothed a hand down her stomach to drag her jeans and panties down her legs. Holding her breath he pried her legs open while laying down on his stomach and slinging her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes snapped open once she felt the stubble on his face drag along her inner thigh and his breath ghosting over her mound and his tongue swiping up her slit.

"What are you doing?" She tried to close her legs around Dean's head.

"What's it look like 'mega?" He chuckled against her "Your cunt is just begging to be touched."

The shade of red that washed over her face was just a confirmation of his statement. It didn't matter how much Katarina wanted to deny it, her pussy was drenched from her arousal.

The tip of his nose nudged her clit as his tongue delved between her folds and brushed against her opening. Shame washed over her when her hips involuntarily bucked against his face and whimpered in pleasure. Not once had she ever thought about having an Alpha's face between her legs.

Dean was moaning against her sex and her face turned a deeper shade of red when he pulled back and moaned things like "your taste is intoxicating". But he always leaned back in and continued his actions.

Two rough fingers circled her tight entrance. It was almost like Dean could read her thoughts about protesting as he snaked a hand up her body and wrapped it around her throat as a warning "Come on 'mega" He licked her clit once "Open up for me." Twice.

Finally, he slid his two thick digits inside her. In an attempt to open her up more, he scissored them inside her, earning a gasp from the slight stretch.

"Oh, fuck." The Omega whimpered as Dean curled his fingers at the spot deep inside her.

"Yeah, there we go." He mumbled before continuing his assault on her clit.

It wasn't long until she became a writhing, screaming mess, her orgasm flooding through her body.

"Dean, please stop." She whimpered as he continued to finger and lick her through her orgasm.

Pulling away from her, Dean sat up on his knees and flipped her over on her stomach "Face down, ass up. Now."

It was out of pure Omega instinct that she did what she was told and she hated herself for it because she knew what was coming. She tried to crawl away as Dean removed his clothes but he only grabbed her hips and pulled her back into place before positioning himself behind her.

Before she could turn her head to look behind her he shoved her face to the mattress "It's better you don't see this 'mega." He rutted between her folds and spread her slick over his cock.

She fisted the blanket with tears in her eyes as the head of his cock pushes against her quivering heat and that's when he felt the resistance. She didn't say a word. The only sound she made was a whimper of horror as he struggled to push the first inch inside her and beads of sweat started to form on his skin.

"Please wait! Dean, I can't. It hurts!" She wailed at him when he rutted in another two inches. She felt like he was splitting her in two.

He was starting to lose patience with her "Oh, I know it does. But you're gonna take my cock like the submissive Omega you are. You wanna know what happens if you don't?" He snarled at her.

"You'll hurt me?"

"That is right. Now shut the hell up and take it like a good little Omega!"

The hands that gripped her hips tightened to keep her still as he attempted to again push forward but stilled his movement when her walls gripped him. At that moment his patience might as well just disintegrated. Snarling he slammed himself completely inside her. The glass-shattering scream from Katarina's throat echoed throughout the cabin but was soon silenced the moment Dean leaned over and clamped a hand over her mouth.

By testing her he rocked his hips forward, eliciting a whimper of pain from the girl. Slightly he pulled out only to slam himself back into her. She sobbed into the blanket with each drag of his cock against her. At first, he went slow, but with each time she involuntarily clenched his thrusts became faster and harder.

She wondered how bad it would've gone if she had fought him on it. But then again, she didn't have to wonder. Even though he hurt her anyway, it could've been worse.

"Gonna knot you little 'mega." His voice was suddenly deeper.

The words she just heard didn't fully register until she felt it at the base of him and her eyes grew wide. His knot was starting to swell. As he still pounded into her he dragged her up against his chest. He pulled back only to snap his hips forward and with one hard thrust, he forced his knot inside her. As thick ropes of cum filled her womb he licked a line from her shoulder to her neck before sinking his teeth deep in her neck.

"My Omega." Was the last thing she heard before closing her eyes.